When you hop on a bike, with the intention of doing a little more than just going on leisure rides, no one tells you much. Oh, you can get training plans, advice on clothes, routes, safety, equipment and all that stuff. But the bike evangelists (a group of which I'm a card-carrying member now) don't tell you a few key things.
1. They warn you about your butt hurting. But, they don't warn you that after, say 25 miles in the saddle, your ass will feel as though it has been hit repeatedly with a steel pipe. They do tell you how to rest your butt and stretch your back. Of course, it makes you look like you're humping your handle bars.
2. Cyclist's tan. I had noticed the pros, when they crash and their shirts or shorts tear, that they have a mean tan line. No, strike that. The tan line looks like an albino that's been painted. That's how stark the delineation between covered and uncovered skin is. I always giggled, but never considered it for myself.
I have cyclist's tan. There is a line, one that looks like it was drawn with a ruler, where my jersey sleeves stop and my open air skin begins. It's worse on the legs.
I could handle that, but what they don't tell you is that because of the riding position you have a zone around your knees and upper shin that get lots of sun, but the other parts only get a little sun. So my knees look like they've been to Acapulco but my shins look like they just went to the pool.
And then there's the sock line. But I won't complain about that because cycling socks are more comfortable than any other sock I've ever worn.
Given my closely shorn hair, I can only imagine the patterns on my scalp from the vents in my helmet.
What's my point? I don't have one. It's just been a great week (well, outside of work) and I was looking for something to complain about. Plus, I was working on hills this week. I should be angry and tired. But I'm not. I'm getting better and I'm using my energy in a smarter way. Hell, I passed a guy on a hill today. I felt bad because he looked like me two weeks ago.
I know very few people care about all of this. But, honestly, this bike riding thing has been good for me. I'm happy. I feel good. The sensation of riding makes me happy. I constantly challenge myself to do better, ride faster and further. I achieve goals, I overcome hurdles. I enjoy the changes in my physique and general health, the new muscles. I handle stress better. I sleep better.
And it's infectious. The kids ride more. My wife rides more. We're a cycling family now. I guess I'm just . . . happy. Weird.
Komeda - Happyment
Hey...a couple of other things they don't tell you about (though you may have picked them up from reading my blog):
ReplyDelete1. The startling need for a new wardrobe when you lose a bunch of weight and your present one makes you look like a chemo patient.
2. The dramatic increase in your monthly food bill as you metabolism goes into high gear and you eat like an eighteen year old boy.
Consider yourself warned.
The Physicist
One other note: headsweats. They are the most excellent way to keep the melon cool and stylin'. Good enough for Marco...good enough for you.
ReplyDeleteThe Physicist
Shoot. I had another one that occurred to me while I was riding today, but I forgot it. It might have been the fact that before I started riding, I never stood over the bathroom sink and handwashed any delicates to dry over the bathtub just so my favorite shorts would be available the next day.
ReplyDeletePantani could pull off the headsweat because he looked cool. I, on the other hand, have a giant Irish head. I'd look like a watermelon wrapped in a table cloth.