I don’t want to brag. No, wait. What the hell, let me.
Today, at Aravi Beach, 200km from Pune, two of my co-motorcyclists (part of the group that rode here for an overnighter), one 32 years of age (and 6’4″ in height), and the other 38 (this is important, so remember it) and I went to the nearby beach with our bikes, to click some photos with the machines, and to wade into the sea if we found it clean enough (it was Ganapati Visarjan yesterday). We found the beach pristine, and devoid of any human presence bar a few boys playing in the sea.
Photos over, we entered the water and thoroughly dunked ourselves into the salty waters of the Arabian Sea. The bikes were parked around 200m away. Fun concluded, we decided to race to our machines. My idea was to see how small a margin I could manage to lose to these two young, fit, strapping men in their prime. So, when it was ready, get set, go, I went for it like an effing freight train, pushing my legs (and lungs) into hyperdrive, until I thought I was going to die. I focused on the run, afraid to even steal a look at the field till I reached my bike. I was surprised to see neither of them at their bikes. So, I turned around. And there they were.
Long story short, I beat them. By about 80m.
Kymaia would be so proud.
That’s it. That’s the post.
Old photo. But the helmet sticker says it all!
