Showing posts with label middle age. Show all posts
Showing posts with label middle age. Show all posts

02 July 2023

Midlife Or Middle Age?

 This blog is called "Midlife Cycling."

The reason for that is that as long as I don't know when I'm going to die, I'm in the middle of my life.

That, of course, isn't necessarily the same thing as being in middle age.


At least I know this:  There's no way to escape being in midlife.  As for middle age--well, perhaps one could outride it--if, of course, one could ride as fast as one did in one's youth!

15 July 2015

Post #1500: Does Midlife Have To End?



This is post #1500 of Midlife Cycling.  


When I started this blog, I had no idea of how long it would run or how many posts I’d write—or, for that matter, on which aspects of cycling and my experiences as a cyclist I would focus.


I’m not sure that I’ve focused anything in particular, save for cycling.  I’ve written about whatever strikes my fancy.  In a few cases, it didn’t have much to do with bicycles or bicycling.  Nobody’s complained about anything I’ve done, so I guess I shouldn’t worry.

(Speaking of which:  I’ve published all of the comments I’ve received, except for the ones that are obviously spam or that were filtered and I somehow managed to miss.)



Last month, this blog had another milestone:  five years online.  Time really does march—or roll, or spin—onward.  That fact has made me think about the title of this blog:  Midlife Cycling.  When I posted for the first time, I was what most people would consider “middle-aged”.   I would not resist such a label:  Because of changes in myself, and the world around me, I knew I was past my youth, at least in some senses. And, a few days ago, I was reminded that I am getting closer to what the US and most Western (or Westernized) cultures consider a “senior citizen”.


 On the other hand, because of those changes in myself, I was beginning some aspects of my life all over again.  That was as true of my cycling as anything else:  I knew that I wasn’t going to be the lycra-clad racer (or wannabe) I was earlier in my life.  Then again, I knew that, in some way, I never was that person, at least in spirit.  Sure, I trained and gained the admiration and respect of some of my old riding partners—and a few racing rivals.  But, as much as I love cycling, it was never the only thing in my life.  When I did Tour de France climbs in the Alps and Pyrenees, I was as proud of my ability to talk to local people in their language as I was of making the climbs.


Also, I tried to maintain a classic aesthetic—or a modern adaptation of it—as bicycle technology evolved.  I am not a pedant who wants her bikes to look just like the ones made in 1950 or some other time before she was born.  At the same time, I always wanted my bikes to be pretty—and I don’t consider the Darth Vader shapes or cartoonish graphics of too many parts and bikes made today.  



In other words, I have always been in the process of becoming, as a cyclist and in other areas of my life.  I guess that’s as it should be in the middle of one’s life:  Contrary to received wisdom, I don’t think “middle age” is a time for settling or an interlude between youth and old age.  I think that if you’re in the middle of anything, something is rubbing off on you or you are rubbing it off.  You are then not in a cycle of decay or decline.



That makes me think of something someone—a psychologist, I think—said:  You’re always middle-aged because, as long as you don’t know when your life is going to end, you’re in the middle of it.  So, perhaps, as long as I’m riding or writing, I will reach other milestones on this blog, and in my life, without having to change the title of this blog. 

13 June 2014

Now I'm The "Older Woman" Riding A Bike


Time was (How many posts have I started with that phrase?) back in the day (Or that?) when I could develop love interests only with people who were older than me.  Or, at least, I couldn’t get involved with people who were younger than I was.


Anyway, I was describing my old dilemma, if you will, to a friend.  She sighed knowingly.  “I understand how you feel,” she said.  “The young ones look good.  But finding one with whom you have much in common is difficult.”


“Forget that,” I retorted.  “I’m getting to an age where there are fewer and fewer people who are older than I am.”


She laughed.  “And, you know, when you look for men who are available and don’t have baggage, the pool shrinks even more,” she added.


I didn’t tell her that I wouldn’t limit my prospects to men.  If I can find a woman close to my age with whom I’m compatible, I could make the rest of it work, I think.


Why am I talking about these things?  Well, I found myself thinking about my concept of “older” the other day while riding home.  What triggered such a rumination?  







While riding to work, I saw two women who, from all appearances, were in the later stages of middle age. (No, they're not the ones in the photo!) One rode a Cannondale road bike with dropped bars; the other pushed pedals on a Specialized hybrid or flat-bar road bike.  Both looked as if they were dressed from the Terry catalogue.  

 Then, during my bike ride home, I saw a woman who seemed a few years older than the two women I encountered earlier.  She could have been a poster child for the AARP.  Her scarf very stylishly swirled a pastel paisley between her neck and breasts; her pants and blouse were tailored but un-self-conscious.  She was navigating the streets on what looked like a French mixte of some sort:  I couldn’t see the brand, but I knew it wasn’t Peugeot, Motobecane, Gitane, Ficelle or any of the other Gallic marques I know.


Later, as I dismounted my bike in front of my place, I saw a woman riding an English three-speed down my street.  That itself was not as remarkable as that she was, apparently, older than the other women I saw by at least a decade.  What’s more, she looked as if she’d been living in the neighborhood all of her life.  If that is part of her story, she is probably Greek or Italian (She looked the part) and, most likely, the wife of a blue-collar or middle-class worker.


Time was  (There’s that phrase again!), not so long ago, when a woman like her would not have been on a bicycle.  Nor would her husband or any other member of her family old enough to drive.  For that matter, I would not have seen women like the others I mentioned.  




As I’ve mentioned in other posts, when I was in my late twenties and thirties, I could ride the whole length of Vernon Boulevard, near where I live now, cross the Pulaski Bridge and ride down Kent Avenue and further along the Brooklyn side of the East River and New York Bay without seeing another cyclist.  Back then, most of the neighborhoods were blue-collar or lower middle-class, except for some then-low-income areas of Williamsburg and Sunset Park.  The culture of those places was much like that of the neighborhoods in which I grew up:  You simply didn’t ride a bicycle if you were old enough to drive a car, whether or not you actually drove one.
 

Furthermore, those rare adult cyclists I encountered were all male.  Most were close to my age; occasionally, I’d pass one who were older than my parents.  Usually, such an older male cyclist was an immigrant who never gave up the habit, so to speak, after settling in the New World.  But I never saw a female cyclist unless I rode into a neighborhood like Brooklyn Heights or the Upper East Side or out of the city into a suburban enclave.  The few I saw weren’t commuting or running errands; perhaps they were riding for fitness, but most likely, just to decompress.  


It was rarer yet to see “older” women ride.  Of course, at that time, my elders were in their late thirties or older.  I recall two simply because they were so unusual:  One, who was probably in her forties, wore a Chanel suit and slingbacks while riding a women’s Colnago--to this day, the only one of those bikes I've ever seen.  The other rode with my bike club; she was about the same age I am now.  Even more interestingly, her husband didn’t ride.


I’m her now, minus the husband.  That is to say, I’m an “older” woman, at least in the way I used to define it.  Although I like it, I often wish I could have begun my gender transition at an earlier age so I could have lived more of my life as a woman.  Then again, given the conditions of the time, would I have grown up to be that woman I so admired on our club rides?  Or the one I saw on the Colnago?  Or one of those women “of a certain age” I used to see riding to marketplaces, to parks, to stores and offices—sometimes to their jobs—when I was living in Europe?

02 June 2010

Welcome To Mid-Life Cycling



Hello!


Some of you may have been following my first blog, Transwoman Times.  If you have, you know that one of my greatest passions--and one of the few constants--in my life has been bicycling.  


After a layoff and a couple of false starts, I am starting the first cycling season of my new life.  I have talked to and written to a number of female cyclists, all of whom have given me excellent advice, and encouragement--not only to ride, but to start a blog about my cycling.


I realized that such a blog might well be unique. For one thing, there isn't another blog by, and about the experiences of, a transsexual cyclist.  But, even more important, even with all of the blogs that are now being written by female cyclists (which include Lovely Bicycle, Biking in Heels and Girls and Bicycles), the vast majority of what I've read about cycling has been written by males, and describes their experiences.  I've enjoyed much of that writing, but I guess that my future expereinces as a cyclist will differ, in at least some ways, from theirs.  Also, much of what I've read has been written by and for younger cyclists.  Again, I have no problem with that.  But I also know that there are other cyclists of a certain age, shall we say.  All of you younger cyclists ain't gettin' any younger, as they used to say in my old neighborhood.  So you may be interested to see what it might be like to age "in the saddle."


I still haven't decided what the blog will include.  Of course, I'll talk about rides, past and present.  And I'll probably talk about my cycling equipment, especially as my life changes have caused me to change some of the parts and accessories I use.  I'll most likely ruminate and offer lots of two-bit philosophy, as I am wont to do.  That means I'll probably also talk about what I read, wear and eat--and the things as well as living beings I love.  In my life, they have all been intertwined in one way or another with my cycling--and writing.  So has, in one way or another, everything else I'll talk about in this blog.


So...whatever your age and gender, and however you cycled to them--or if you came to them by other means!--I hope you'll read and enjoy this blog, and bring your friends to it!