The day before yesterday I stopped for my first visit on this Visit Everyone trip. I met Michael and Michelle about 12 years ago when they rode out to meet John and I when we were heading across country. I remember thinking there was an instant feeling of familiarity and we have stayed in touch ever since. In 2016 when I was broken down in Fort Smith, about 100 miles away from where they live they drove down to meet me. Sadly, some years ago Michael had a huge motorcycle wreck and no longer rides. He was sad that I had not visited him years earlier because there were so many roads around where he lives in Arkansas that he wanted to show me. 

They put me up in a comfortable room and Michelle then proceeded to make a very carefully done steak and asparagus dinner. She had paid careful attention to my posts and already knew about all my limitations. They read all the warnings about "Do Not Feed the Yermos" but disregarded them completely. 

"You realize, I now owe you a life debt." I told her. 

We talked all evening and then again all morning. We got to know each other better in those few hours than in the preceding years. There are just some souls you come across that get it and for a brief moment you're not alone. But then, as is always the case on journeys like this, the moment is over too soon. I hope to be able to visit them again before another decade passes. 

I needed to cross another 769 miles to get to White Rock where I will be staying with Bruce and Ha. Bruce and I intend to go on a loop ride for a few days. We're not yet sure where we'll go, but it'll be good to spend time with him. For both of us it's a bit hard. Duncan was the third band member and for most of our lives if we did a motorcycle trip it was always the three of us. His loss follows me where I go. It just all feels so wrong that we'll never get the band back together.

The slog across the Big, Flat, and Hot has not been as bad as I feared. I suspect because of the heat, that problematic shoulder/back muscle on the left side next to my shoulder blade has not been cramping up nearly as badly as it usually does. So far, it hasn't come close to hampering my range of motion. When it's bad I can't turn my head which is awkward on a motorcycle.

Honestly, the seat or my terminal case of old white man's saggy ass syndrome has been the biggest problem. It makes doing three hour 200 mile sessions challenging. (The fact that I've multiple 200 mile sessions now is a bit mind boggling given where I was just 8 months ago.)

I imagine if I can get that back muscle to calm down and somehow lessen the pain in my rear and legs that I'd be able to go much further in day. Yesterday, as I clicked off 495 miles in crazy heat, possibly due to heat exhaustion, I started pondering whether or not I should build up to try an "Iron Butt SaddleSore 1000" which is to long distance motorcycle riders what a marathon is to runners.

The Iron Butt Association runs a rally called the Iron Butt Rally which is an 11,000 mile event over 11 days run every two years on odd years. It's like a motorcycle ultra-marathon. 

It is an invitation only event. I've only ever known one person who's run it and he ended up placing third, which is impressive. If things go to plan I'll cross paths with a Facebook friend, Kerri, who is a long distance riding fiend and clicks off 1000 mile days the way Andy clicks off marathons. She has also run in the rally. 

To open the association up to more riders, they started an authenticated challenge for us mere mortals called the SaddleSore 1000. The idea is you set out to ride 1000 miles in a day and you have to document the ride carefully according to their rules which includes getting receipts at every gas stop among other things. If they accept your documentation they send you a license plate frame. It's a silly thing. I've done 1000 miles in a day two, maybe three times, years ago. However, in the last decade the most I've done in a day is about 760 and that was on the DR650. That hurt. 

Until last October I wasn't even able to ride 90 miles at a stretch without being in agony that verged on dangerous. With some changes in how I ride, some exercises, drinking a ton more water, and maybe random chance, it's  improved dramatically as evidenced by how this has been going, but it is still there and I know that in the cold it'll cramp up. 

But it is better than it was. Much better. I have to think some of the effort I've put in has helped effect this change.

So that got me to thinking ,now that I have these limitations, I ponder whether or not trying to do a 1000 mile day in some kind of official way might not be a nice way to frame attempting to further resolve these issues. Duncan always wanted to do it and we talked about giving it a try but things went down hill and he was no longer able to ride distance then not at all. Broke my heart. 

As I ponder challenging myself, I have often been told when I describe what I am facing that, "Well, you're not exactly a young man any more." 

There's this prominent idea in this country that age implies disability. It's part of the culture. 30 is old and when bodies start creaking, backs start going out, knees hurt, and in general everything goes down hill. The aches and pains and mobility limitations are all a result of, well, simply being old. And we just have to accept this gracefully, walker on the ready. 

But this has never seemed to make sense to me.

Ever seen some of those guys from Papa New Guinea? I watched a documentary about their life style and they were interviewing this guy, 70 years old, absolutely ripped and moved like a 20 year old. That made an impression.

When I was little kid I hurt more than I do now. I threw my back out for the first time when I was like 6 or 7. I was immobile for over 24 hours. That would happen pretty frequently over the years. My shoulders have been a problem since I was about 18. Of course, by that point I had been working in front of a computer for 11 years and for that last four years or so it was crazy hours at the keyboard. I've been sick my entire life. So I guess that makes me see things differently.

There came a moment when I was introduced to the concept that I could actually have an effect on my own outcome. That concept is what led me to eventually discover the diet and the misery that is my life was lessened dramatically.

I could have an effect.

In 2020 I had come across an online physical therapist who worked with me and got me to a point where I could even start practicing guitar again. Simple exercises done in specific ways and suddenly muscles that had been locked up for ages released and my hands worked again. 

Did I keep that up? Of course not. Soon back to my old habits, long hours in front of the keyboard, and all the problems came back. Sadly, she is no longer doing physical therapy and I have not been able to find anyone that's been able to help me the way she did. And did I document what she had me do? Did I take notes? No. 

So over the last couple of years or so I've taken it upon myself to start learning the topic and have made some progress which is evident by the fact that I'm now in Amarillo, Texas. 

So back to age. Of course there are things that degrade over time that are directly age related. My vision is not what it was. Memory is failing, but that may be because I have trouble sleeping. Pain does hurt differently. I suspect that is age. 

But, I question if the problems I have riding are "age" and maybe it's more "time since last exercise". 

Have I taken the shoulder rehab work that I know to do seriously? No. Inconsistently at best. Have I been doing squats, RDLs, and other exercises to address the saggy ass syndrome which would help dramatically with the sitz agony? No, of course not. 

Have I worked on the mobility constraints arising from spending a lifetime at a desk in front of a computer? Not consistently. 

So until I have put full consistent effort into doing the things I have demonstrated can at least improve things, I can't say that it's age. When I was younger, and much much sicker, I still moved much more than I do now. Life was less sedentary. 

Somewhere along the way with the stress of life and burdens of obligations, I began to move much less. My shoulders bowed forward. I developed what they call the "tech hump" at the base of neck. Muscles atrophied. 

Age? 

Maybe. 

But until I take responsibility and make The Work a full priority, I can't say for sure. Obviously, at some point it will be. It waits for us all. But maybe if I can somehow muster the discipline and consistency to do The Work in all its facets, I may be able to say:

"Yes. Some day, but not today."

So maybe a Saddlesore attempt is in my future. 

We'll see.