About three years ago, Maria told me that running so many marathons had made me pretty thin and she said I was looking “wimpy”. I decided to join a gym in Salisbury, MA called Latitudes.  I joined for two reasons: they had an indoor track and they opened at 5:00 AM.  I could get there at 5:00 AM, get in a workout with the weight machines, run some laps and still get to the office by 6:30 AM.

As you can imagine there is not a whole bunch of socializing going on at 5:00 in the morning. So, I pretty much went a few years without having a conversation with anyone in the gym.  Then one day “Boots” noticed one of my marathon shirts and started asking questions.  I told him about the fifty states and he told me about some of his achievements in his “younger” days.

Now to back up a little bit…while the gym opens at 5:00 AM, the line starts to form at the door at 4:50 AM while everyone waits for the young girl who works there to open the doors at exactly 5:00 AM (Geneva sets their clocks by this girl). Well, Boots is always at the front of the line, seven days a week.

Boots swims one day, works out the next day on the gym floor, and walks three miles a day. He used to ride his bike all the time, but does that now more in Florida when he is there for the winter.  After a few months I finally got up the nerve to ask Boots how old he was.  He introduced me to his son who he was talking to at the time and he told me he was 68 and that his father was 92.

Over the last year Boots has had some challenges with his health and one day he came over to tell me that his children had ganged up on him and told him that they did not think it was a good idea for him to ride his bike in Florida anymore since his wife would no longer go to Florida because she did not want to fly. They had contacted a local bike shop down there and purchased a “tricycle” and had them set it all up for him.  He was so proud that all his children had gone out of their way to do this for him, but was not so sure about the “trike”.  I told him it was a great idea and “so much safer”, and that he should be happy his children were looking out for him.

I am not sure how many of you know, but on Christmas Eve I was enjoying the 80 degree and sunny weather in Florida when I decided to go for a nice long beach run.  Instead of running to the beach that is a mile and a half from the house, I decided to bike there.  Since there is no way to lock my helmet to the bike at the beach, I did not wear my helmet or my bike shoes.  After my run I jumped on my bike and started a quick ride home to get ready for Christmas Eve dinner at our friend Geri’s house.  Geri is a great cook and after a long run, my mind is on food.

I got through the security gate, got up to speed on the bike, got into my tuck with the aero bars, and reached down for my water bottle. The bottle stuck was in the rack.  I pulled harder, and that motion pulled the bike to the right, and I went up over the curb…and crashed.

Maria and I spent the afternoon at the hospital as I was being stitched and x-rayed…and finally went home about 5:30. Yes, we still went to dinner at Geri’s.

So, move forward to after New Year’s, and I am back at the gym in Salisbury. I have pretty much healed and just have a few telltale signs that I had an episode.  Boots’ son comes up to tell me that his dad had gone down to Naples and the first thing he did after he put his luggage in his apartment was go over to the bike shop.

He looked it all over, drove it around the parking lot and went back in the bikes shop and asked if he could use the phone to make a call. He called his son and told him that he did not want the “trike” and wanted to swap it for a beach bike.  His son tried to talk him into keeping the trike, but Boots told him he would not use it because it was too hard to turn and “slow”.

“Boots” got the beach bike and loves it.  For the first week he road it every day for 8 miles round trip.  Then he decided to go on a longer ride for 12 miles.  He stopped at his turn around point and got a drink at the store and when he went to get on his bike to go back his leg got caught on the cross bar and he fell.

Boots is healing well.

When I went home that night I told Maria the story about Boots and his bike and her response was:

“I want to know the phone number of the bike shop so I can buy Boots’ trike…for you.”

So, my next writing will be “Bike Safety”…