Tell me why have there been so many recent studies with the same conclusion… when you reach a certain age its all down hill from there. With this mounting evidence the back end of the Boomer generation must really be freaking out. I am actually glad to have been oblivious to all of this until quite recently. At least now it is too late for me to worry about getting old(er).
I figure these article writers are either my contemporaries beginning to feel their own mortality, or in my more paranoid moments they are members of Generation X wanting to finally knock the Boomers off their perch. The previous notwithstanding, I am not overlooking the possibility that these articles are written by kids just out of journalism school wanting to be valued for their mental fitness, if not for mental maturity.
The latest installment of scientific scare tactics to be reveled in print media is what we in the human resources field refer to as age discrimination. The Associated Press article I read this week in The Desert Sun explains, “How fast you can move depends on how speedily the brain cells fire off commands to muscles. Fast firing depends on good insulation for your brain’s wiring.” The article goes on to state that myelin (the nerve insulation material) starts at age 40 to be used up faster than it can be replaced. The result is that the less protected (or unprotected) nerve transmits commands at a much slower rate.
The article advises that it is difficult to be a world-class athlete after 40, given this loss of myelin. Healthy myelin is good thick insulation tightly wound around nerve fibers. After production loses pace with the need for replacement our frayed nerves are just not as efficient. If I bought into all of this scientific gobbledygook it would go a long way toward explaining my performance last Friday night (Halloween) on the road with the Desert Stahlight Ridazz.
Well, I said I would catch you up on my bicycling misadventures, so here it is… I met the troop of riders shortly before 7:30 p.m. They were a typical cross section of 20-something & up, greater Palm Springs residents. I understand the number of participants typically peaks at about 30 riders.
As we started out together we rode down Palm Canyon Drive for a while, before turning on to a side street. I must confess that I am a sidewalk/bike path kind of guy, but we were a large enough group (and had a chase car) so we could mix it up with street traffic. People sitting outside at my favorite Starbucks waved as we went by, as did others surprised to see a bicycle group riding at night.
We peddled steadily for about 4 miles to a new Chipotle Mexican Grill on East Palm Canyon Drive. The ride leaders had arranged for free burritos for the whole troop. (There went my low fat diet, but it tasted great.) After squatting and gobbling, shucking and jiving with our fellow ridazz for all too brief a moment, we did the return trip on a slightly different route.
It wasn’t until the last two blocks before reaching our original starting point, riding up a slight incline that my myelin wore so thin that my brain wasn’t telling my muscles what to do (or at least wasn’t telling them fast enough). It was like being in one of those slow motion scenes from a movie or TV program. That’s when I very unceremoniously fell into last place, quickly followed by the chase car roaring past me.
Tired, slightly chafed and humbled, I pulled into the parking lot where the others were standing, to find the ride debriefing in progress. It seems we made it back to the starting point in less time than it took to ride to the restaurant (that is everyone but moi).
As we congratulated ourselves for giving the ride our all and started to disburse, it hit me. The only way I was going to get home that night was on the bike (running late I had been dropped off with the bike via station wagon). Letting out a small wince I rememberd the first part of the next leg of my journey home would be up hill on Indian Canyon Drive, before reaching the residential area I live in.
As it turned out it wasn’t that bad, mainly, because I didn’t have to keep pace with anyone else. I did enjoy the cool calm evening air as I silently glided through the darkness of the relatively flat residential streets; probably one of the best parts of the whole trip.
Anyway, I arrived home a little after 10:00 p.m. incrementally further chafed, but mentally ready to get up at the crack of dawn and go to the Air Show in Thermal the next day. The purpose of which was to promote Riverside County Law Enforcement and Healthcare employment opportunities in the Desert (but that is another story, for another day).