My punkass nephew, one ride closer to world domination.
For 12 years now I’ve supported my nephew’s madness. He’s skied, done martial arts, rock climbed, tracked animals in Africa, swam with whale-sharks in the Indian Ocean, you name it.
Now it’s all going to bite me in the ass.
He’s just tested for his “double red-stripe belt” in tae-kwon-do. This means his next test is for his black belt. He’s obsessed; he’ll pass.
For the past two weekends he’s raced cyclo-cross. He’s won both events. The first in a two-up sprint, the second off-the-front.
He’s also skiing with “Team Extreme” up at Bridger Bowl. This is the kids group devoted to steep, ski-mountaineering lines in and around the area.
My point here is that another couple weekends and he will have surpassed my entire victory total in a decade of bike racing. My floundering in martial arts has brought well shy of a black belt. And the skiing thing, well, the way my knees feel some days, I’m pretty sure he’s going to be shepherding me on groomers within a year or two.
I’m sunk and he’s positively buoyant. Damn kid, if I didn’t love him so much I’d kick his ass while I still can. Then again, I won’t see him until November 19, when he comes to visit (for a TKD tournament, what else?). By then, it’ll probably be too late.
Bravo, Henry. Just take it easy on the elderly, eh bud?
