Wednesday, September 21, 2011

kill ratio

my son is a gamer. luckily he manages to hold down a part-time job, go to school, and earn decent grades while being one.
my friend ivy is an incredible cycling machine and fabulous all-round athlete.

what they have in common---besides the fact that ivy's a pilot and my son would like to become one---is that they both talk about kill ratios.

I cannot speak to the gaming version, but in the cycling world it's just this silly little game we play when out riding . . . how many people we pass divided by how many pass us.

it makes me smile.

some days I have a positive (greater than 1) kill ratio; some days I don't. to be honest, most days it's not at the forefront of my brain.
but this morning I choose an excellent time of day to have a positive kill ratio: late mid morning. the serious guys are out early, lunchtime, and after work . . . often the late-mid-morning crowd is more female, more aged, and---dare I say it---more relaxed.
I passed the first person not quite 2 miles into my ride, starting me off in the positive.
the next two came in a lump about 3 miles later.
then one more.
and no one passed me: we're talking a 4:0 very positive ratio!

and then came sight of the next cyclist ahead of me, someone I was gradually approaching.
and I was flummoxed.

what I saw first was the trailer behind the bike, obviously carrying a small child. then I saw the woman riding the bike.
I wanted to give her all my kills, and slink back home, slacker that I was. how fast would I climb a canyon towing a trailer and toddler?? not very, methinks.

so I had to decide: do I count this as a kill?
maybe half a kill.
maybe it should be neutral.

maybe I should subtract one of my previous kills, in honor of her efforts.

I didn't resolve the issue on my ride: it actually caused me to stop playing the game.
in fact, maybe that should be my next training move: buy a trailer and start out just hauling the empty contraption around. then maybe I could borrow someone's small child. small being key.

or maybe I can just hope to not encounter her again on one of my rides.

I don't think my son goes through these mental gyrations while he's playing his games. however, I like my version of the game better because I really don't understand how to work those silly little controller thingees . . . it's much easier to ride a bicycle.
in fact, it's one of those things you never forget how to do, whether you ever pass anyone, get passed by others, or simply have an amazingly peaceful time all by yourself.

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