I am the slowest cyclist I've encountered while commuting, and I don't feel good about it. It takes me about an hour to cycle a hilly seven miles. Along the way, I am passed countless times by faster cyclists young and old, big and small, on old bikes and new. It bothers me, although I know it shouldn't. Why does it matter if other people get where they're going before I do? Why does it matter if they leave me toiling in their dust?
A few months ago I rode the 13-mile route from Georgetown to Silver Spring along the Capital Crescent Trail. It was my first time commuting by bike, and I didn't know enough not to wear my work clothes cycling. So I was sweating and pedaling in a nice shirt and dress pants while cyclist after cyclist zoomed by me. Most of that route is uphill. I barely made it. Along the way two tiny kids on tiny road bikes buzzed by me a couple of times. They were riding with their dad and all three of them had plenty of time to stop along the way for water and breaks and then pass me again.
A couple of weeks later they randomly passed me again on a totally different trail north of Silver Spring, and again I felt that insecurity one might feel when left in the dust by 10-year-olds.
I don't know why this matters to me but it's something I'll have to work on mentally, because I don't see myself gaining a lot of speed anytime soon.
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