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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Jesus H Merckx on a popsicle stick. To have guns like those (yes, I read the article in case you wondered).
I work in a place that is for the most part, staffed and run by women (which may explain some stuff to you old-timers around here). Getting cat called for tanned, shorn legs by the lady folk was fabulous and off putting at the same time. We are a weird bunch for sure.
@Gianni
So the clips could "slide" a little and not create hot spots on the top of his feet, while remaining secure, 'cause the toe straps were probably tightened by a couple of Eastern Bloc weightlifters. Just a guess.
I used to put my shoes on before stepping outside the house, until I forgot one day and stood on a step heel first and ended up doing the splits across four stairs... Now they are the last thing I do before hopping on my bike outside.
Glide into the parking lot, trackstand nonchalantly for a minute just because you can, clop inside, pay a few bucks, and then wipe out spectacularly with a cup of coffee in your hand on the viciously slick tiles. Yeah.
@scaler911 I thought he was taping his feet to his pedals like in 'Breaking Away'.
Minor point first: ...gait...
'Tis a wonderful thing being a cyclist. In season, on race days during the week, a colleague and I kit up in the office after work - sometimes surprising the new folks - and 'clomp' down the halls to escape the building to ride off to the race venue. Shouldering the bike and negotiating the stairs heightens attention to balance and stability and contributes to getting 'up' for the race. The shaven guns, snug kit, and 'odd' shape a sharp contrast to the gym rat, ball player, and runners. We briefly chat and head off to our pursuits of passion...
Would not trade it!
Have we learnt nothing from our Tri cousins?
Simply leave your shoes on your pedals, all lined up with natty elastic bands, insert your feet once underway, then crash into the undergrowth, fence, or your riding buddies.
I'll leave shoving sockless wet feet into single velcro strap shoes to those silly boys and girls thankyou (I take it we've all seen the video doing the rounds of a trihard crashing into an SUV?)
@Frank: If your gate's awkward, you could always get it fixed.
If it's your gait, on the other hand, you should be on a bike.
I love the smell of pedantry in the morning.
@Frank Great article! Emotive and compelling.
However, the Da Vinci Code part of me is a little disturbed by the first paragraph of this article. Is there a hidden message, a cry for help?
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
If you simply remove the word clothes from the first line above. You have just announced that you are, in fact, a lady.
Call me if you need to talk about it...cue suitable winking emoticon!