My office is organizing a holiday 12K run, an invitation to which I replied that one is only to engage in running when one is being chased, and even then only fast enough to avoid capture. I am a Cyclist, not a savage fleeing a beast in the jungle. I walk as little as possible because I hate walking, I carry as light a load as I possibly can to improve my climbing, and I only engage in core-building exercises because I am given to understand it will make me a stronger rider. We are, of course, occasionally required to participate in non-Cycling activities like “working”, but if you’re anything like me then you just use that time as an opportunity to get more psyched for the next ride.
Most of the time, I have spent the day (or evening before) thinking about what kit I’ll be riding in, and which bike I’ll take out that day. I’ll have made up my mind long before I descend the stairs to the basement where my bikes patiently hang in wait. Still I inspect them all as if the choice were not already made; I’ll pinch their tires, perhaps flick a pedal on its spindle or take one down from its hook to test the tightness of a headset. I’ll feel a tinge of guilt at passing over the others, but that guilt is offset by the excitement of taking the chosen steed down, pumping its tires up, and shifting through the gears in confirmation of the perfectly tuned drivetrain. I will be unable to resist the temptation to turn the barrel adjuster in the desire make the shifting even more perfecter.
Then, normally, it’s straight into my kit, out the door, and onto the bike I hop in Casually Deliberate Cyclocross style.
It is a rare occasion that I am afforded the luxury of being kitted up for the ride prior to departure; these rare occurrences are usually on Race Day or before a group ride when pre-ride espresso is sipped while we universally engage in shit-talking intended to intimidate or dupe our fellow riders. These are cherished times where one is allowed the opportunity to wear Cycling caps, pre-ride sandals or sneakers, long sleeve jerseys and full leggings (irrespective of the time of year) and practice being Casually Deliberate. But take note: the utmost care must be taken to every detail of our appearance:
Merckxspeed, my fellow Velominati.
*Wearing of the casquette, sunglasses, and in particular the winter Cycling Cap should be practiced at length in front of the mirror until wearing them perfectly becomes muscle memory. Recall that in order to be Casually Deliberate, one is to give the impression that all this awesome just happened by accident.
I know as well as any of you that I've been checked out lately, kind…
Peter Sagan has undergone quite the transformation over the years; starting as a brash and…
The Women's road race has to be my favorite one-day road race after Paris-Roubaix and…
Holy fuckballs. I've never been this late ever on a VSP. I mean, I've missed…
This week we are currently in is the most boring week of the year. After…
I have memories of my life before Cycling, but as the years wear slowly on…
View Comments
.........shifting even more perfecter
I trust this is some form of intentional emphasis by tautology?
^ The linguistic equivalent of the numbers all going to eleven.
"We are, of course, occasionally required to participate in non-Cycling activities like working, but if you’re anything like me then you just use that time as an opportunity to get more psyched for the next ride."
Which is why I'm sitting here at my desk in the middle of the afternoon pondering on the life of a Velominatus. And trying to decide just how hard I'm going to ride tonight down in the suffer cellar.
Good stuff. I imagine your reaction to your office colleagues was a bit mixed on this one: one one hand, appreciative of their use of the metric 12 instead of the imperial 7 1/2, yet revulsion at the thought of "running." 12 kms sounds far more impressive than 7 1/2, however, most Americans have no idea how far a kilometer is whereas they do know how far a mile is and that's like twice the length of a mall parking lot. The former sounds impressive, the latter just horrible.
People ask me if I do triathlons and I gently tell them no because my legs don't have gears or a freewheel and it's hard to look casually deliberate in a speedo. (particularly if one has a typical cyclist's tan lines.)
The Fignon bunnet is a classic. I have a couple old school ones like it myself: a red wool Denti one from Italia and an acrylic red and blue one. Both can, of course, be worn forwards or backwards, but much practice is needed to get the right angle.
The jersey reminds me of one of my most prized pieces of cycling gear - a sweater in the same style but with La Vie Clair colors - all black with the Mondrian blocks on the upper chest and shoulders. 30 years old and still fits. Only worn on special occasions.
I've signed up for a 25 kms fat bike ride on the frozen tundra of Lake Winnebago in mid February. Nothing worries me except how to dress warmly and not look like a big bag of unsorted laundry.
"desire make the shifting even more perfecter."
And to think that this came from a guy who actually has published work out there....
"Dress Like and[sic] Onion"
The sunglasses-in-winter look is fantastic. But what say ye- wearing sunglasses when it's raining and grey skies?
"I am a Cyclists" Is your multiple personality disorder overtly manifesting, Frank?
Hey, go easy. We all desire make the shifting even more perfecter.
The sweater looks better than the jersey.
@Oli
That's what happens when you change the draft from "We are Cyclists" to "I am a Cyclist" on the last proof read, without coming back around for another pass...
@chuckp
And he's got full leggings under the bibs.