Meridian Magazine

25 May 2018

Jan Ullrich and Lance Armstrong?

My dad is 10396 days older than me, or 28 years 5.5. months. he has almost always been concerned enough about his health that I don't know of a time he didn't exercise consistently, until maybe the last 10 years or so. At one time he was nearly fanatic about weightlifting and also occasionally cycled to work.

We moved back to California in 1989 and the next July the Orange Stake had a fun run event on the 4th of July. I had done one or two of these in the past and had fun. But, I was not in any shape to run. So, I suggested to my dad that we do it on our bikes and do the 3 mile course twice just to make it a minor challenge.

The start/stop was at the school that is now called the Prentice School at the corner of Esplanade and Fairhaven in Santa Ana. We went counter clockwise up Esplanade turned left on La Veta then Yorba back to Fairhaven and to the school. There is a little rise going up Esplanade.

I wasn't having any trouble leading my dad and fully expected to beat him. The second time going up that little rise on Esplanade I attacked a little and spent some energy. No problem.

My problem arose as I approached the four way stop at La Veta and Prospect. I was going fast and then saw a car. They might have had ?police? or other people trying to keep the intersection clear for the "event." But, the car didn't give me any defference and I had to slow way down, almost to a stop.

Meanwhile, the timing was much better for my dad who was coming up fast from behind, and he was able to just blow through the intersection at full speed. Now, I had little in reserve from the previous "climb" and had to accelerate again to get up to speed. I wasn't doing well. I had about 2 miles to catch him. But, I never did. Maybe I can say that with the circumstances he was encouraged to ride even faster and keep me behind. I fully expect that without the car interference I would have won. But, I didn't. So, once upon a time my 60 year old dad beat his 32 year old son in a bike race.

(And I'm no piker. I once came in fifth in a race of 715 people.)

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