This happened.
There is a hill on the first day of the ride that has gained almost legendary status. It is called Cochranton Hill. There is a rest stop in Cochranton Lions Park about a mile before you get to the bottom of the hill. This year, I sensed greater apprehension among the riders than usual. My daughter, Jill was voicing her concerns. Some fool had told her that it is a four-mile hill. “That’s bunk”, I said. She was still worried. “How many times have you ridden this ride?” I asked.
“Six”, she said.
“Then you’ve ridden up Cochranton Hill six times already. What are you worried about?”
“Yeah, but now I’m old” she said.
My friend, Bruce Ungar was walking by, he looked at her incredulously. “How old are you, Jill?” he asked.
“Thirty”, she said
“Hell”, he said, “I have shoes older than you.”
Knowing Bruce, he probably has.