I FELT JUST LIKE MY BREAKFAST MATES: DESTROYED, BUT NOT DEAD.
They came solo or in pairs. Gray. Worn. Moving slow, with canes in tow.
There was something special going on here. Each one was cheerful, smiling bright. Happy to be alive, to be out moving about... to be at Denny's.
My day, like their lives had aged me.
I rolled out of bed early, but showed up late. Dropped off the back on the way to the "start". Things began nice enough, then turned to hell on the A Loop. The kids kept on hammering, gathered up the Bs and left us.
Our group of "A-" riders went from 7 to 6 to 5 to 4 to 3 to 2. I was 3. After a 50mph downhill I latched on to a decent group of Bs with two of my former A- riders. Soon, I was ejected on the corkscrew.
I limped home with my tail firmly between my seat stays. Live to fight another day, as my dad liked to say.
Maybe we weren't destroyed at all,
Seizing another day,
Happy for one more
trip to Denny's.
(I destroyed the Ultimate Omelette)