"Wisdom is the power that enables us to use knowledge for the benefit of ourselves and others."

"Last one to the top buys the beer!" My friends and I had no idea who this guy was, but our competitive spirit took over as we mounted our bikes and began the treacherous climb to the top of Porcupine Rim.

It was extremely hot in Moab Utah—somewhere in the hundred-degree range—as I stood up on my pedals trying to get more torque. I had ridden Porcupine Rim before, but never in such extreme temperatures and certainly never at such a high rate of speed. It was about a one thousand foot ascent from where we were to the top of the rim. I was determined to get there first.

This guy is an animal, I thought, struggling to wipe the sweat from my face while keeping one hand on the handlebars. Moab claims ownership to some of the most difficult and challenging mountain bike terrain in the entire world. It has claimed the life of a few riders who pushed the envelope too far. That thought was never too far from my mind as I struggled to make it the last few feet before finally reaching the top.

"I'll take an ice cold bottle of Guinness," the unknown rider declared, as I humbly removed my feet from the toe clips and began to dismount.

"I can't believe you beat me. How long have you been waiting here?"

"Not long. Only about ten minutes. By the way, my name is Ben—Ben Stevens."

"Ten minutes! You must be a pro!"

"Well, I've been riding bikes since thirty-five. I guess I'm finally getting good at it." "Since you were thirty-five? How old are you now?"

"No, I don't mean since I was thirty-five, but rather since 1935. As in nineteen hundred and thirty-five. I was actually born in 1929. You know, the end of the roaring twenties." "A little warm today," Ben said, as he removed his helmet and sunglasses, to reveal a face much older than the fit and trim body that supported it.

"Hard to believe," he continued, "but if the good Lord is willing, I'll turn seventy next week. Some friends and I plan to celebrate while we do Ride the Rockies. Wouldn't miss that ride for all the tea in China."

We chatted for a bit before getting back on our bikes to ride the remaining five hours that would lead us through some very technical terrain. We rode together for a while; the time passing all too quickly, as this seventy-year-old mountain biker shared with me his philosophy on life. I listened intently as he explained how he had outlived three wives, all of his four brothers and sisters, both of his parents and God knows how many dogs and cats.

"You know, Ben, you remind me a lot of my friend Dick. He's about the same age as you and equally as fit. Dick runs his age about five or six times a week."

"Sounds like my kind of guy. But what do you mean, "runs his age?"

"He's sixty-seven, Ben. That means he'll run 6.7 miles a day this year and 6.8 miles a day next year and on and on. He runs almost everyday except Sunday."

"Now let me get this straight. Every year your friend's mileage increases as opposed to getting shorter. Hell, at that rate he'll be doing ten miles six times a week in another thirty years!"

We both laughed at the thought and then Ben said, "You know, I'm not joking. Your friend Dick will still be running at the age of 100 if he stays healthy and most importantly, believes he can do it. Most of the battle is in our minds."

"Yes sir, Dick sounds like one of those crazy people I hang out with," Ben continued. "Love to meet him some day."

As he spoke, I thought about my friends and myself. Most of us were half of Ben's age and many were all ready beginning to complain about the perils of getting old. Nothing worse than the whining of baby boomers approaching the half-century mark, I thought.

I completed Porcupine Rim in just under six hours. Ben had left me in the dust just after we hit the summit. Now, totally spent and dreaming of a hot shower, I threw my bike on the rack, climbed in my truck and stuck the key in the ignition. The endorphins were kicking in. All was well with the world!

My friends and I regrouped that evening at Eddie McStiff's, the local watering hole, to swap lies and down a few brewskies. Just as the attractive young lady was about to seat us, I glanced over at the bar and lo and behold, there was Ben holding court with a few of the locals.

"Forget the table. Let's eat in the bar. You guys have to meet someone."

A warm and friendly smile came across Ben's face as we sat our sore butts down and motioned for the bartender. "Hey old friend," Ben declared "Glad to see you made it back alive! Porcupine Rim-toughest ride I've ever done!"

After a few brief introductions, we ordered a couple pitchers of beer, several appetizers and one ice-cold bottle of Guinness.

"Guess I owe you this, Ben. Any chance we could continue the conversation we began earlier today?"

"Ahhh, an ice cold Guinness. Best damn beer in the entire world as far as I'm concerned. Nothing better-except perhaps mixing it with a little Bass Ale. Makes for a really fine Black and Tan. I like a man who keeps his word. Now what is it you'd like to talk about?"

"Well, Ben, there are a lot of things I would like to ask, but, frankly, I would love it if you would tell us your secret for remaining so youthful. I mean honestly, you seem much younger than you obviously are. In some ways you seem younger and more excited about life than many of us and we're half your age! How do we follow in your foot steps and keep the wrinkles away?"

"First off, forget the wrinkles," he said. "Getting old is 90% in your head. If you think or act old—you are old—no matter how many wrinkles you may have. It's as simple as that."

"OK, I agree with that. But beyond appearances what's the secret, Ben? I mean, how will we know when we are slipping off course—when getting old is getting the better of us?"

"Well, you must understand that getting old is a decision not a consequence," Ben continued. "Why, some folks are old at thirty while others seem to be getting younger every year well into their eighties and nineties. But there are a few things to watch out for. I mean, if these things begin to show up in your life, run like the dickens! Do an about face and make some changes quickly!"

Below are Ben's words of wisdom. Gratefully traded for one very cold bottle of Guinness Stout.

You will know your getting old when:

• You begin to down more Advil than all the M&M's you ever ate as a kid. Yoga and stretching exercises are the long-term solution. Forget the drugs. Stretch, stretch, stretch!
• You trade the fast lane for the fat lane. When you begin to trade the physical activity you enjoyed in your youth for a soft couch and a remote control, you're doomed. Never stop doing your sport, whatever it may be. Mind over mattress is the key.
• Gravity begins to affect your smile. It's true that over the years gravity wreaks havoc on our bodies. But it has nothing to do with your smile. Show the world your pearly whites! And by the way, I dare you to try to be in a bad mood while you're smiling. It's practically impossible.
• You exchange your passion for cynicism. Living is all about attitude. Attitude is all about having a passion for life. There is nothing worse than someone who is bah-humbug day after day—everyday. No one wants to be around people like that. Never lose you passion for living.
• You never venture too far from the comfort zone. Living a little on the edge keeps you fresh. Occasionally put yourself in a position to sink or swim. And for crying out loud, always continue to improve in every aspect of your life, including your hobbies. Always keep learning.
• You stop contributing to a better world, a better life. Do what you can with the life that you have been given. And don't forget to leave some unfinished business for tomorrow—it will help to get you out of bed the next day.
• You pay more attention to your hairline than your waistline. This one is more for the guys than the gals. Until they come out with a product that really grows hair, baldness is something men can't control. Your waistline, however, is within your grasp. Bald men don't look bad. But fat men, whether they have hair or not, look old. Stay fit and stay active.
• You begin to lose faith. Whenever I am feeling down or discouraged, I simply think about my Lord and Savior hanging on that cross. Nails through His hands and feet, the pain must have been excruciating. Compared to that, I can handle anything that might come along. I know this may not be politically correct—talking about Jesus and all—but I'm not running for office. It works for me. Pick the spiritual master that works for you and strive everyday to become more like them.

The bartender asked for last call as we raised a final glass to Ben. We thanked him for sharing his wisdom with us; paid the tab and headed back to the hotel for some much needed sleep. It had been a long and satisfying day.

As my head hit the pillow, I thanked God for having blessed my life with so many interesting friends and acquaintances. I am convinced that people come into our lives to either learn from us or teach us something. Ben taught me the meaning of living every day to it's fullest—no matter what age we are, no matter what obstacles have been placed in our way. Now if I could just find that bottle of Advil...

Some Things To Consider

Who has recently come into your life to learn from you? What did you teach them? Who has recently come into your life to teach you? What have you learned?

All Rights Reserved © 2002 By Jeffrey Alan Hall