The Senior Cyclist
Today, I was walking down 7th Ave past the hospital. It’s not uncommon to see elderly people shuffling down this block with canes or walkers. It feels me with compassion; I imagine it must be frustrating to lose the mobility that once came so effortlessly.
Lost in thought, my eyes shifted to the pavement and caught sight of a senior man's legs. There was a black brace around each ankle. When I looked up, he was strapping on a bicycle helmet.
In my neighborhood, the majority of the cyclist are fairly young. My heart swelled with admiration. Perhaps the man made effort to keep his body limber. Maybe it was luck. Either way, he was riding a bike in his 70s. In my 30s, I huff and puff up the hills of Park Slope. I wanted to tell this man that he inspired me. Yet, I walked past. A block away, I turned around to see I could see him ride away. But he was already gone.