Yesterday my 12yo casually suggested that we bike to the nearest hill; it was raining almost continuously the last couple of days, giving me real Norway vibes, but just that afternoon it was supposed to be dry for a few hours. OK I said wearily, lets go but don’t go fast because your papa is old and tired.
I didn’t really mean that of course; expecting – as always – to have a fairly easy ride.
Now, I am exercising, still, fairly regularly, and compared to an average ~40year old I consider myself to be in a good shape.
I should rethink that now. Catching up for the most part was not very pleasant; I did found my rhythm literally at the very last ascent and waited for the child, breathing hard and drenched in sweat.
“So thats about it” I thought, “One more year and it will become tricky”.
