Your story about beating the young whippersnapper reminded me of myself as a university senior. I was cycling in Santa Monica CA with a couple of other 20-somethings I had encountered along the way when a guy with a white goatee and a white Mercier flew past us on San Vicente Bl. One of my newfound friends challenged, "Are you going to let an old guy like that pass you?" Replying, "I'm not," I took off and caught up with the old guy, who immediately complimented me: "You keep a good pace," to which I replied, "That's supposed to be my line." We quickly became good friends and cycling buddies, and he convinced me to train with him for the upcoming double century, something I had never thought I would attempt myself. (I did a double metric -- 200km -- the year before with my cousin, and it completely drained me. Going more than 50 percent farther was out of the question.) My 12:18 double century with him and one of my college pals remains my one big athletic achievement.