Scott Martin

When I turned 50 recently, my cycling teammates honored me with a box of Grecian Formula, a cane sporting a water-bottle cage and cycling shorts with a diaper inside.

Just a few gentle reminders that, as we all know, aging ravages cycling performance. Recovery takes longer. Fitness goes down. Weight goes up. Canes get thrown at teammates.

Sadly, these physiological declines are just the beginning for maturing roadies. Getting older unleashes a raft of devastating conditions. For example :

• You become acutely aware of the ages of your riding partners. If you beat someone who's 3 months younger than you, you're elated for days. When you get dropped by somebody who's 10 years older, you sagely proclaim that "age is just a number."

• Digital displays become smaller and dimmer. When browsing for a cyclecomputer, you look not at the list of functions but at the size of the numbers. The teenage salesperson at your local bike shop snickers when you ask why they don't stock bifocal Oakleys. (Bifoakleys ?)

• You are unable to get through a 2-hour ride without stopping to tinkle. Twice.

• You gravitate toward bib shorts. For comfort, of course, not because they help corral that extra 5 or 10 pounds.

• You start wearing a cycling cap under your helmet. For comfort, of course, not to keep the sun off that bald spot.

• Upon reflection, you realize the 6-hour century you did in '02 was actually pretty close to 5 hours. And you describe your 29th place at the '95 District Road Race as "finishing just off the podium."

• Overnight, your body develops mysterious creaks. Just like your bike.

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