Originally Posted by ascherer

I'm extraordinarily fortunate to be enjoying my 47th consecutive season. I'm closing in on 63, ride recreationally on weekends and commute to work in Manhattan maybe half the time in-season if the weather agrees with me. I'm NOT a racer, never was and don't feel competitive. I tell myself I can just take it easy and noodle my way to work and home, but instead I push myself...not to beat out the person in front of me, just to the point where my exertion level feels "right", some kind of groove. Maybe it's a New York City thing.

My commuting bike is a 1966 Raleigh Sports 3-speed that's mostly stock, save for a larger cog to give me a bit lower low. Between the bike, a lock, a few tools and my work stuff I've got 50 pounds to push. Despite that I'm fast off the line (it's that bigger cog), and then I chug along at my happy pace. Today I did just that from a red light on Central Park West, leaving a few other folks behind including a young fellow on a single-speed with a spoked rear wheel. It took him about 15 blocks to catch me, and that was because I was stopped for a red light that he went through. 7 or 8 blocks later I caught him and we got stopped at another light. He grinned at me and said, "You've got some legs, man!" I thanked him, and told him I practice a lot. Then I left him behind again...it felt good.