About forty years ago, I decided to go on my first century ride (100 miles on a bicycle). It was a major ride along Long Island’s south shore, and everyone would return on the train (the LIRR). Of course, I didn’t know what I was doing.
Maybe 200 people signed up for the ride, and my plan was to join some experienced riders I knew and ride at their pace. I did not know how to pace myself. I chose poorly, and at about the 60 mile mark, I found myself alone and exhausted. Somehow I struggled on to the end, dragged myself to the train and fell into a seat, completely exhausted, dehydrated, unable to move.
At that point a much older experienced rider noticed me and brought me some bottled water and food from the club stores. He talked to me for a bit, made sure I would survive and went back and sat down. I recognized him, at least to the extent that I knew he was a character actor I’d seen many times. I didn’t know his name, and I never saw him in person again. But this week I saw him on a really old TV show. His name was Murray Matheson.
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