You know, I was thinking while at school, where I do nothing at all but sleep and listen to mindless teenage adolescence children speak of things like what they will be doing over the weekend, and how much fun it will be getting completely shit faced then trying to cope getting them selves put back together after a hellacious night of Jim Bean, Grey Goose, Johnny Walker, and a 289 pack of Milwaukee's Best cause we both know that’s all we can afford or want to actually spend money on. We don’t have enough class to actually save up for a decent size party with fairly good alcoholic beverages, No we just go with the flow what ever happens, happens, and that’s why we have shit to drink at party's and no one takes us seriously, but back to what I was saying.
I sat there in my little 2' x 2.5' desk, made of plastic, aluminum, and fake wood that is closer to a cinder block than actual wood. Just thinking about the years I have been cycling, where it all began, how it started just letting my mind wonder. Well it wondered all the way back to first time I walked into the shop, seeing more bikes in a single 5' x 5' square then "The Dominator" has roles in his (no contest) 3' diameter of a globe he calls his stomach. Looking at all this news to my eyes, the bikes, the people, and the spandex of course, I could not believe it! All this for a little bike, c'mon there was no way this was that big of a deal to the world. I soon came to my senses and realized that this was just as big as football... Football in California or Washington maybe (not Texas) but still pretty important to some people.
So like I was saying I soon realized this was a pretty big deal. I saw a man, a man I thought couldn't be much older than my own father. He talked to me though as if I were his age, or he was my age, more or less he was mine, but that’s besides the point, he knew how to talk to people and found a bit of interest in this so called sport of cycling, in me. He grabbed a hold of that interest like he was deep sea fishing out in the gulf and had just hooked a huge tuna and wanted to reel him in. He grabbed a hold of this ounce of interested hoping that he could change me, or at least enlighten me to become a cyclist. Not a pro or anything but at-least someone that will ride for fun from time to time.
Well it worked this guy that I thought was completely ridiculous for opening a bike shop to sell just bikes and biking equipment reeled me in. I had felt the rubber. When I say that I am saying that I felt that feeling you get when your on a 40+ mile ride and your nearing the finish, your body is tearing it self down stroke by stroke, you don't know if you can go any longer, but there is that feeling deep down inside that you get when you accomplish a ride of such distance. Feelings that you can’t describe to anyone, any more than, you just have to ride to feel it. That feeling after I rode my first bike trail on my mountain bike was the moment I knew. I would be doing this for the rest of my life, whether it is racing or just riding didn't matter.
As the years past this man began to teach me things of life, riding and just about being a person in general. Things that no one has taught me before and things that people have taught me he just touched up on how important they are. This man has seen me go through changes like he was part of my family, good changes and then again very bad changes as well. He has also helped me in my endeavors to become not only the best cyclist I can be on the bike, but also off the bike. He has taught me that life is not about what people say while your alive but what they will say when your long gone, 50 years after your death. He has introduced me to people that have changed the way I look at life, and how I treat people. He has taught me not to take life so seriously; you only live it once so have fun while you can. This man of course is you Clarence Muller, and I thank you for everything you have done for me, and hopefully everything you will do for me in the future.
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