Stp...is the Racer's Edge

"It's kind of early to be out riding a bike, isn't it?" he said pulling up next to her.

"I could say the same for you," she said.

"Yeah, but I don't have a flat tire and we're quite a ways from town."

"I guess I never really thought about that."

"Well, lucky for you, I have a patching kit and a pump. Would you like some help?"

"That would be nice. Thank you," she said with genuine gratitude.

He flipped her bike over and pulled off the rear wheel and got to work. "I hope you won't take this the wrong way ma'am, but is it really safe for a woman to be out her by herself in the middle of nowhere?"

He could tell she was a novice rider and she probably felt a little foolish. "You should have your cell phone with you at least," he said as he ran his tire tool inside the rim to expose the tube.

"I should probably have one of those, too," she said pointing at the odd-shaped tool. "I've never had a flat before and it never occurred to me I'd get one way out here."

"Murphy's Law says they'll happen at the worst possible time and place. Again, I hope you won't take offense, but riding without a helmet is really dangerous. I can assure you the pavement is a lot harder than your head."

He had the tube out, blew it up and listened for the hiss. He put a small amount of saliva where he thought it might be and it immediately bubbled up. "I guess you've done this a time or two," she said watching intently.

"You could say that," he told her as he dried it off and applied some liquid glue before sticking the patch on. He blew on it to speed up the drying time then stuffed in back inside the wheel before re-inflating it. "You really should have a spare tube with you along with the patch kit. And a pump."

"To be honest, I haven't ridden since I was a girl and back then you just jumped on the bike and rode it. Then again, I wasn't ever going very far and my dad was always there to fix anything that went wrong."

He noticed the ring on her finger and said, "Can't talk your husband into riding with you?"

As he set the wheel back into the frame she said, "Hardly." She hesitated then said, "Besides, that's the last person I want to have go riding with me."

"Sorry. None of my business," he said as he re-attached the chain. He spun the pedals a time or two to make sure the wheel was true then flipped it over. "That should hold until you can get a new tube. Do you have a long ride back?"

"Well, I kind of lost track. I never meant to go this far, but it's just so pleasant this time of year, you know? A couple of miles turned into five and now I'm not really sure how far out I am."

He sighed and said, "Tell you what. I'll ride back with you just in case."

"Oh, no! You don't need to do that. I'm sure I'll be fine. Thank you for fixing that flat for me, though. I really appreciate it."

"Look, I know women are all about being independent and what not, but if that patch fails you a mile down the road, you'll be right back where you were and still all alone. So call me old fashioned, but I can't let you do that."

"You're awfully young to be offering life advice, aren't you?" she said in a way that didn't sound condescending at all.

He smiled and told her, "Chronologically, I will readily admit to being on the lower end of the spectrum, but I have a lot of miles on me and I don't just mean from cycling."

He waited for her to turn the bike around and get started before falling in alongside her.

"I didn't mean anything by that, by they way. After all, you stopped and rescued me and I don't even know your name. Mine's Marlis. Looks like Mar-LEES but it's pronounced MAR-less."

"Marlis? I don't think I've heard that before."

"It's German. My maiden name was Hoffman. My grandparents came here after the war and my parents spoke German in the house where I grew up. My last name is Granger now, by the way."

"Marlis Granger. That seems appropriate," he told her.

"And how did you arrive at that conclusion if I may ask?" she asked looking over at him.

He smiled and said, "It's a really beautiful name. Just like you."

She laughed and said, "Hmmm. I'm going to accept your compliment without further comment. Thank you. That was very nice. So...are you going to tell me your name or are you just going to be the handsome, young mystery man who rode in on his steel steed to save a damsel in distress?"

"Hmmm," said mocking her but not in a mean way. "I too, am going to accept your compliment without further comment." She laughed at his word theft. "I'm Lane McMichael, by the way."

"I love unusual names," she told him.

"Like Marlis?" he said.

She laughed again. "Point taken."

The rode along in silence for a while and he asked her, "Mind if I ask what you're doing out here all alone this early on a Sunday morning, Ms. Granger?"

"I'd forgotten how old I am until you called me that. Gee, thanks. I really appreciate it, Lane."

"Considering the fact I'm all of 19, most women are going to be older than me by default. But I would hardly call you 'old.' In fact, you look, well very... Sorry. I should probably mind my own business here."

"Oh, okay. Well, to answer your question, I was thinking about riding the STP this year. Do you know what that is?" she asked him.

"Having just completed it the first time myself last year, I'm very familiar with the Seattle-to-Portland fun ride. I'm gonna go way out on a limb here and venture a guess this is your first such ride." Before she could respond he said, "And by first ride I'm talking about as in this morning."

"Is it that obvious?" she said.

"Well, no helmet, no pump, no cell phone, no..."

"Okay, okay. I get it. Next time I'll have all the right stuff."

"Um...while you're at it, you might want to consider buying a bicycle you can actually ride that far on, too."

"Hey! What's wrong with my bike? I like this one."

"That thing you're riding is called a beach cruiser and you'd be lucky to make it halfway out of Seattle on that thing."

"I made it all the way out here on it," she said defiantly.

"Uh, yeah...but how long did it take you?" he asked.

"Lemme see. It's 10am and I started at 7:30 so... with 20 minutes for the flat..."

"Exactly," he told her. "You should plan on riding at least 15mph and that's actually pretty slow. Something like 20mph is more realistic but the best riders go even faster on flat terrain. If you can average 17-18mph the whole way, you can do it one day. Much slower than that and you'll need to use Day Two. That's what most riders do but if you want a real goal, then riding the entire 202 miles in one very long day is a very significant accomplishment. That thing you're on right now will beat the daylights out of you and you'll want to quit after the first few hours."

"Okay, Mr. Smarty Pants, what kind of bike should I get?"

"As luck would have it...lucky for you, that is, I'm working at a bicycle shop this summer while I'm home from school and it would be a lot easier to show you than explain it to you. We'll find a bike that fits your needs and one that fits your body in terms of height plus I'll show you all the other things you need to make it a more pleasant experience."

"Wow. So I guess you don't just hop on a bike and ride it anymore," she said wistfully.

"You can," he said. "But only if you're into sado-masochism."

Marlis laughed and told him, "You don't talk like any 19-year old I've ever met. I have one of my own, by the way so yes, I really am that old."

"As I said, I have a lot of miles on me—figuratively speaking. Losing your dad at 14 kind of forces you to grow up a little too quickly."

"Oh, my goodness. I am so sorry, Lane. That's terrible."

"Yeah, it really was. But once you get over the tragedy of it you either pull yourself together and keep going or you fall apart. I'm not planning on falling apart. And by the way look, just looking at you, it's obvious you have no intention of doing so, either."

"So you're saying I'm well preserved?" She smiled again as she looked over at him.

Lane laughed and told her, "No, not at all. I'm saying you don't look like you could possibly have a kid my age. Unless of course, you got married when you were 12."

She laughed again and said, "No, for your information, I was not 12 when I had him."

"Thirteen?" he said pretending to be serious.

"I was 21 when Brad was born so you can do the math. I guess this is my mid-life crisis. I just turned 40, my son is away in the Air Force, and my husband has no interest in anything I..." She didn't finish her sentence and he didn't pry.

The rode along for another half hour before they got back into the city limits. "I'll be okay from here," she told him. "But I would like to stop by the shop if you really think this won't be good enough."

They pulled to a stop and he took off his sunglasses for the first time and said, "Mrs. Granger? You are riding on the equivalent of a horse-drawn carriage while there are Formula-One cars out there and available. You don't need anything that fancy, but you should at least be driving a decent sedan." He reached into the small bag behind his seat and pulled out a small pad and a pen.

"Is there anything you don't have with you?" she said bending over to try and look inside.

He wrote down the name of the bike shop and the phone number and handed it to her. "I'm there pretty much all the time Monday-Friday so feel free to stop by whenever or call ahead if you like. I'll get you all set up and you'll have a much better experience than trying to ride this old thing," he said pointing at her old-school bike with the fat tires.

"Hey! Be careful pointing my way when you talk about old things."

"Okay, that's enough of that, Mrs. Granger. You're not only not old, you're actually..." He stopped in mid-sentence again.

"That's twice you've done that. I'm starting to feel a little paranoid. And will you please stop calling Mrs. Granger?"

"Oh, you prefer 'Ms'?" he said trying to keep a straight face.

"Ugh! Smart ass. You're just like my son when it comes to the wise cracks. No, I would like it if you called me Marlis. Is that clear enough?" she said kind of cocking her head playfully as though she wasn't sure he could comprehend something so technical.

"I think I got it that time," he told her.

He got ready to ride off and she said, "Hey, wait a second. You never finished what you were going to say about me twice. Not that I'm paranoid or anything."

He'd put his sunglasses back on so he lifted them up this time and said, "If you weren't a married woman I'd say you were hot as hell. But since you are, I won't." He lowered his sunglasses, turned back around and headed out of town leaving her there smiling.

______________________________________________________________________

"Good morning! How may I help you?" the guy who's shirt said 'Jimmy' on it asked.

"Oh, hi. I was looking for Lane. Is he in today?"

She saw a head pop up from behind a work bench in the repair area at the same time the young man she spoke to pointed in that direction.

"Oh, hey there!" he said. "You don't waste any time, do you?"

She stood there smiling. She knew he was a nice-looking guy, but she hadn't seen that much of him under the helmet and behind the dark glasses. He had very thick black hair, bright blue eyes, and a killer smile that connected to a very fit, very toned body.

He tossed down a rag and said, "I need to show Mrs...Ms...this young lady—around here, Jimmy."

"Figures," he said as he tried not to stare.

Marlis may have just turned 40 but she was well...hot as hell. She had shoulder-length blonde hair, gorgeous green eyes, an amazing smile, and soft, smooth skin. She also sported her own tight body with some very nice 'upper suspension' and 'rack and pinion' steering in the back. She was wearing a pair of jeans that fit very nicely and a cute, white, knit top with a single-stranded gold chain and matching earrings. Lane didn't know the difference between Gucci and JC Penney, but if he did, he'd have noticed she was carrying a very expensive bag with her.

As she turned her back, Jimmy mouthed the words, "MILF Alert!" to Lane and made a very rude gesture with his hips. Lane didn't find it amusing the way most guys would and just shook his head in disgust.

"Is something wrong?" she asked seeing the look on his face.

"Oh, no," he told her. "I just realized I didn't get all the grease off my hands." He grabbed his rag, wiped his hands again, then through it at Jimmy who started to protest when Lane shot him a 'STFU' look.

"Let's start back here, Marlis, and we'll see if we can find the right bike for you, okay?"

"You know how much I know about bicycles so I'm all yours," she said unaware of the next sophomoric face Jimmy made to Lane over that comment.

"Full disclosure," he told her. "I get paid on commission but I have no interest in selling you something you don't need."

"No worries. I trust you, Lane."

"Okay, well, let me ask you this. Do you plan on riding after the STP? In other words, is this bike just to get you through that one ride or do you plan to keep riding beyond that? Once we decide that, we'll narrow our choice down to a specific range of bikes then look for one that fits."

Less than 15 minutes later Marlis found herself deciding between two models and ultimately settled on a Silque Women's model by Trek. "I can't believe $1,800 only buys a moderately good bike these days," she said after looking at a couple that were over $5,000 and Lane telling her she could easily spend 10k and up.

"Keep in mind that a moderately good bike today is light years ahead of the best bike you could find when you...um...my age." He was relieved when she smiled then said, "Okay. So we found you an ideal fit. Do you have a rack on your car to lug it around?" She said she did not so he added one of those to her list of must-have items. Then he hooked her up with several sets of riding clothes, a pair of bicycle shoes with toe cleats, a helmet, a water bottle with a wire mount carry it, a small bag for personal items, dog repellent, and a few other odds and ends.

The total was well north of $2,500 and Marlis still had to get it home. "I'll show you how to put the bike rack on and take it off and I'll mount your bike for you this first time."

As he was getting things taken care of for her outside he asked, "So who are you training with, Marlis?"

"What's that?" she asked after putting the other stuff in the back seat of her high-end Mercedes.

"Do you have a training buddy? A partner?"

"No... Do I need one?"

"Not if you're the kind of person who can set goals, get up every morning and unfailingly achieve them."

"I do Zumba three days a week. Does that count?"

Lane laughed as he tightened the straps on her rack and said, "That explains why your body looks so good for...you know...your advanced age, but it's no guarantee of success for the STP."

"I ought to punch you for that remark," she said balling up her fist and feigning anger.

"Why? Because I said you have a nice body?" He tugged on the rack making sure it was securely in place as he lifted her new bike in place and starting tying it down. "So if I told you your face is even nicer than your body would you kick my ass or something?"

Marlis laughed out loud and said, "No, I'd just tell you to go get your eyes checked."

He cinched everything down and said, "My eyes are just fine. Trust me."

He smiled at her and could tell she enjoyed the compliment. "So do you have one?"

"I'm sorry?" she said trying not to stare again.

"Who's your riding buddy? I won't ask about your husband after that comment you made about him yesterday, but you must have a friend you could ride with."

"Hmmm. No, I don't think that's very likely. All of them are too busy trying to sneak away with their pool boys or tennis coaches or whomever to anything but attend fundraisers where they can drink too much and get away with it. Getting one of them to ride the STP with me seems pretty much an impossibility."

"I could make a joke about them...riding...but I don't make it a point to be crass around beautiful ladies."

Marlis laughed at his sexual innuendo and thanked him for the compliment. "You're such an interesting young man. You're very well spoken and quite insightful. It's so unusual to find that combination in someone...sorry, but I'm going to say it again...your age."

"And you have a very interesting way of delivering compliments," he told her with a smile. "Do you ride in the mornings by any chance?"

"That's my preference. Or at least I think it is based on my vast experience of one whole ride. One very unsuccessful ride, at that."

"Wanna ride with me?" he asked as he shook the bike to make sure it was properly in place.

"Seriously? What benefit could you possibly get by riding with a complete novice? I'd just hold you back from your own goals."

"I can ride with you, then take off ahead at my own pace, then circle back while you hold a steady pace—at least until you can keep up with me. You can train alone but it's very easy to get bored or discouraged. I'm assuming this is important to you and after investing nearly three grand, I'd feel terrible if you didn't follow through."

"Well, I really do want to complete this ride. Tell you what. I'll accept your offer if you'll let me buy you lunch. It's my way of thanking you for yesterday and for all this help today."

"That's really nice of you to offer, but you don't owe me anything, Marlis. I'm glad to have been able to help," he told her sincerely.

"To tell you the truth, I'd enjoy the company. It's been so refreshing talking to someone who isn't a pretentious snob like all the women who hang out at the country cl... Sorry, that's not something you want to hear about."

He smiled and said, "You'd be surprised what I enjoy hearing about. Let me tell Jimmy I'm taking lunch early and I'll take you up on your offer." He headed to toward the door and said over his shoulder, "As long as it's not at your country club. I don't think I'd fit in there."

She smiled and said, "I don't know about that, Lane. It would certainly give all of those pretentious snobs trying to bed their pool boys or tennis coaches something to gossip about."

Lane laughed and said, "I'll be right back."

"So what sounds good for lunch?" she asked. "I know a nice place not too far from here."

"I'm kind of a Subway-for-lunch guy, to tell you the truth."

"Oh, okay. I haven't been to Subway in...ages, but I always enjoyed eating there."

When they set their trays down, Marlis said, "This reminds me of a happier time."

Lane didn't comment. He just raised his eyebrows as he took a first bite of his extra-turkey sandwich on whole wheat.

"I got married very young," she began. "My husband, Tony, was a handsome young junior who was also a frat boy and we started dating my freshman year. He proposed and we got married the next year during Christmas break followed by the birth of our son the year after that. I dropped of school but to his credit, Tony worked day and night to support us and get through law school. He joined a local firm and has moved up the ladder until he made partner five years ago. Anyway, I'm rambling but we used to come to fast-food places all the time when life was simple and easy."

"You said it was a happier time," Lane pointed out as he finished another bite.

"Things change, you know?" She looked at his handsome young face and said, "Well, maybe you don't yet. Just trust me on that one, okay?" she said as she finally took a small bite.

"As I said, I'm not chronologically old, but I've been supporting my mom and younger brother since I was 14 after my dad had a heart attack and died unexpectedly. So I'm sure I don't have as much experience with change as you do, Marlis, but I'm no stranger to it."