We’re an odd bunch, us Cyclists. Shaved legs, scars, tan lines, muscular legs paired to scrawny upper bodies. These things that make us stand out are some of the things I take great pride in. I marvel at my freshly shaved guns and how smooth they feel under my dress clothes when I’m stuck at the office. I’ll stand in front of the mirror each morning and gauge whether I’m getting fatter or skinnier. I’ll constantly feel my legs to check that they haven’t started to get soft since the morning’s ride. Being a Cyclist, it seems, is a full-time occupation.
Everything in our lives is biased towards riding. On the bike, we are a picture of elegance: perfect kit, tanned guns, magnificent stroke fluidly propelling us along the avenue. Remove us from the bicycle, however, and the graceful Cyclist is transformed instantly into an awkward creature; our legs suddenly look too big, our bodies too small, and we waddle about hopelessly on cleated shoes.
One of the most satisfying experiences of Cycling is to walk in my road shoes. Not only is it a thrill to avoid wiping out down a flight of stairs or in a café, but it marks the start and end of my ride. Kitting up before leaving, I’ll wander to the living room with my shoes in hand. Standing up after strapping them on, I’ll clomp out to the bike, my awkward gait signaling the sweet anticipation of the ride that awaits. Similarly, I cherish clomping back into the house afterwards, the clip-clop of my shoes echoing through the living room and signaling to anyone who is home that I’ve returned from my mission.
I embrace those things that make me strange to the rest of society; we are Cyclists and the rest aren’t meant to understand our ways. But a time will come when we ugly ducklings will blossom into skinny swans.
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What happened to the Adilettes?
Nothing ugly about Kelly's guns, white socks, and black shoes! You can tell that the spectators are both fascinated and terrified.
I'd never noticed the little kid staring between Kelly's ankles before.
@JCM Kid has a view to stare elsewhere as well -- positioned behind those black high heels.
@JCM Fear indeed. Those are some prodigious "V"'s!
Waddling in the house, trying to find keys/pump/wallet/multitool/anything that seems to get lost whenever you need to go for a ride. Also the guilt that you're wearing out the cleats with every step you take.
When you return... The look at your roommate's face, seeing you absolutely shattered, hair still helmet-shaped, heart rate still 150.
Priceless.
@Efe Balli whenever you're going for a ride*
In cycling beauty is the juxtaposition of grace and crudeness and together they evoke a sense of ultimate elegance even while your caked in dirt, and sweat from a lengthy summer ride. We try to be graceful in many ways ie shaving our legs, wearing tight Lyrca, buying expensive bikes, but only through suffering day in and day out can one achieve poise on a bicycle.
@JCM
Those Brancale shoes and duct tape where the toe clip straps went across his badass feet. I wonder what that was all about? Kelly was not worried about fashion, that's for sure. I bought my wife those very same shoes for her first pair of proper cycling shoes. I hate to admit how old that makes us. Fuck it, it makes us as old as Sean Kelly, nothing wrong with that. He could still kick yer teef in!
I miss being one of maybe 5 people in a little Oklahoma town to ride a bike in a strange sort of get up. Waddling around in my wood sole Diadora's and trying not to slip at the gas station while filling my water bottles. In the mid 80s we had road racers, and the despised touring cyclists. We were not overrun with hipsters on bikes, triathletes, and whatever the hell most todays riders are. For me there was nothing like those days.
I've acquired the cyclist's dysmorphia in spades - huge, overbuilt legs, scrawny, under-built upper body that always looks awkward unless it's bearing down on a handlebar.
Fine by me, really - I wouldn't change it. I just wish that the package had come with a really boss VO2 max. No such luck.