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Dear HIT Professional,
I think I'm pretty fit for 52. I wasn't for a long time, but in early 2025 I made the decision to lose some weight and I've kept it off. I go to the gym almost every day to either lift weights or do some cardio. I watch what I eat.
So when my wife and I went away last week for our 20th anniversary to a lakeside resort, I was ready for the many activities we were going to do – namely, using the paddle boats on the lake, hiking on trails, navigating rock scrambles and riding bikes.
All this activity seemed a good balance with the outsized eating I planned to do. I was on vacation, after all.
So when we were about to start the guided mountain trail bike tour, I was physically ready. I'd show the other old geezers a thing or two. Interestingly, there were no other geezers. In fact, there was no one at all. There was me, my wife, and the 20-something guide. A bit of a sparse crowd but nothing to worry about.
And then we started. It didn't take more than 10 minutes for me to realize that this was going to be one intense ride. I could handle it, but just barely. As we continued to climb, I couldn't help but start with the jibes.
"Hey, buddy, are we going to the top?"
"Are we at the eagles' nest yet?"
My wife knew what I was thinking and started laughing. (She is a hypercompetitive sprint triathlete in her free time, so she was fine.) Our guide, however, found my comments more a reason for concern than amusement. We had talked previously about whether the bike I was using (borrowed from my 15-year-old) was big enough for me. He thought it was not ideal. Thus, when I was complaining and he offered to let me use his bike, it was not so out of line. Though it was strange because our bikes were the same size.
My wife, impressed with the ease with which he was handling the ride, started making inquiries.
"How do you train?"
"I don't really," he said.
"What kind of bike do you have?"
"I don't own one," he said.
"How do you keep up your bike fitness?"
"I took a lifeguarding class once, and that was hard."
None of this made sense to her.
So we continued the grueling 45-minute ride. After my initial comments, I held my tongue. But the last half mile that took us back to the departure point was Sherpa-like territory. My tank was about out of gas, and it was taking all I had to finish – standing up, pedaling hard, breathing harder. I looked up at our guide and he was casually serpentining back and forth across the trail with only one hand gripping the handlebars. I had to say something.
"Dude, I have to tell you. You are some kind of athletic freak. If you put the slightest effort into training, you'd be winning races left and right. You'd have sponsors in a minute," I said, being honestly complimentary.
Then, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, my wife asked:
"Is that an e-bike?"
To which he replied, "Yeah."
What followed was five minutes of laughing and good-natured ribbing, the main gist of which was: "Why didn't you tell us?!?!?!" Obviously, all our commentary during the ride indicated we were impressed with what we believed were his God-given gifts.
Now, before you think we're complete idiots, I had never seen an e-bike like that before – there was no obvious external battery. This bike had a slim frame. There was a built-in light that looked different, but the recognition of what it truly was never clicked.
What did click was this – we had a great time all weekend, took a ton of pictures and had a few of those perfect moments you think you'll remember. But out of all those 72 hours, I think most of them will fade. Except, of course, the big reveal from our Lance Armstrong of the mountain.
Have a tremendous week,
Anthony
Find all my columns here.
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