50 years old. Looking fit. Slim, somewhat skinny. Average height. You came to the local triathlon race. Your bike is an extension of you. It reflects you more than you even know. Unknown brand, full-carbon – it shines with large letters on the frame, to get people’s attention. You got it for twice as less as similar carbon bikes. It’s not about the brands and names – it’s about how fast you go. You wanted to get “the best for your buck”, so you did. 

You wear a warm jacket from some cycling race. Pants that are on you are also were given to the finishers at another race. You are a savvy man. Money does not come easy. They never did. Sport is the only thing that makes you happy and you give it all your time and energy. Slightly dirty hair and the way you act scream louder than words – you are a lonely man. You are not married. You never were. You don’t have kids or any dependants. You are on your own and you always were that way. There are few buddies of yours at the race. All chubbier and slower than you. You are the alfa-one in the group and you are proud of you. Other men in your circle look up to you. They are also jealous because they can’t lose that beer belly and the double chin.

That’s about it. You finish the race, pack your stuff and leave in your beat-up Civic. Nobody cheers upon you at the finish line. No one waits on you at home. You were the fastest in your age group today… At the last time… And at the race before that… Okay.

You get back to your tiny box. One cup, one dish, one fork. You don’t need more. You are not interested in anything besides a few simple things: sport and reading. That is all. Tell me about minimalism.

That could be you in 20 years. It’s one of the ways. You choose…