The People we Meet on the Road

Today I woke up at 7:10 and was out the door at 8:40 ready to hammer out a four hour ride at the upper end of my zone two. Just a few miles past my parents' condo, I ran into Barry, this 40-50ish year old rider that I rode with for a bit yesterday.
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To quickly give you some context, the route I have been riding for the past 9 or so days, and the only route safe enough to ride even with the white-capped folks swerving and cutting people off, is a highway called A1A or Ocean Boulevard. This state road runs along the Atlantic ocean connecting many of the main beaches of South Florida. At first it was an unfamiliar rush for the winter to be off of the trainer and outside, but riding back and forth on the same state road for hours upon hours and days upon days gets old; you get the picture.

As you can imagine, I see many of the same cyclists daily. Some of the people I try to avoid because of sketchy riding, but it was comforting to see Barry at the start of the long day. We rode for a while, probably an hour, with him out in front at times and me just off and to the right of his wheel taking the wind.
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At one point when we rode side by side, he said, "You have the body of a cyclist." I said thanks, a little flattered, continuing to tell him that I plan to go as far as I can go on this two wheeled machine. "Just don't get burnt out," he responded as an old wise cyclist often does. "When I was a few years older than you, I raced professionally," he aired with a non-shalant voice.

"Wow, that is so cool, what team did you ride for," I rattled off almost before he could finish. "I rode for the Coors Light team that also was sponsored by ???? [Exon maybe]. You may not know some of the riders that I rode with, but one was Chris Carmichael. Later on I rode against Lemond too, when he was a junior. I saw him on his way up as he saw me on my way down. I stopped when I was 27 because I wasn't going to be selected for a European team since I was getting older and just getting my legs." he stated.

"Huh, that is great man, did you race in Europe at all?" drilling him with another question. "Yea I did a few races. I excelled in the hills. I weighed about 140 at that time. You look like you would do well in the hills. What do you weigh, 135?" he asked. Answering with a bit of disbelief of his raw accuracy, "Yea, 137 the last time I checked. I don't really know what type of riding I'm good at yet. This season should tell me," I rambled out trying to somehow compare myself to the ex-pro masked by an older, businessman like body.

"Yea, racing for the few years that I did was fun. I didn't have any money, but I had all of the gear I needed. I didn't care about the money. At 28, I went back to law school. And now look at what divorces will do to ya," he professed, laughing as he visibly eyed his body up and down. I laughed and gasped in disbelief as we pedaled onward into the sea sprung head-wind.

He told me his name was something like Barry Stetna. I don't know how to spell his last name, but if anyone has heard of him or knows of him, write me back. I'd like to figure out who this cool old dude is (by the way, if it comforts you, I don't think 40-50 years is an old age).

Now sitting with some espresso, I'm pleased that the day went better than I expected considering the repeated route of Florida. With an added 77 miles under my legs, I can only hope that I make it through the rest of the short but full training week. I never imagined the mental and physical strength that goes into serious cycling--hopefully these attributes will come with time.