When it comes to weight and body dysmorphia, we cyclists can go toe-to-toe with any thirteen year old tween who has done their time flipping through the pages of Vogue and Sixteen. However fit and thin we might be, at some point it dawns on us that we’re not as light as we could be. The obvious solution is to buy lighter parts for our bikes, but eventually we will run out of parts to buy or money to spend. At that point, we’ll have no alternative but to start losing weight.
On the surface, this is a fairly simple matter; calories in minus calories out is the magic to any weight loss voodoo, right up to the point where it stops working because the “calories in” part deviates from our lifestyle or our metabolism decides we’re old and that since everything else is slowing down, it should too.
It is at this juncture that we ask ourselves how we can lose those kilos that seem unwilling to melt from our bodies. The answer varies depending on your lifestyle, body type, how loud your Awesome is, and your ideal riding weight. (By the way, similarly to the number of bikes to own, your ideal riding weight is one kilo less than your current weight, or weight ideal = weight current – 1). But assuming that you enjoy eating, alcohol, or anything else that doesn’t suck, it will require doing something drastic.
My journey through weight loss started with doing everything the same but riding more until that program stalled, and then I started doing sit-ups and leg lifts, both of which meet the aforementioned suck requirement. And then I cut back on beer and wine, which sucks even more, but that’s when things really started happening. A surprising side-effect of cutting down on booze, by the way, is that although you get less charismatic, you feel better in general and sleep better in addition to losing weight. It turns out that alcohol is a poison or something. Who knew?
But now that my V-Jersey isn’t stretched like a balloon on a pumpkin, I’ve moved on to worrying about my upper body, which is bigger than a typical cyclist’s thanks to 15 or so years of nordic ski racing. Which brings me to Ullrich’s sleeves. I have always had it in my mind that Jan and I are of similar physique, aside from the quads and calves and the devilishly good looks. But my stupid sleeves are always tight, and his were always loose. I take off my jersey, and sure enough, there’s that little mark that the sleeves made on each of my arms. Infuriating. The only solution is to focus completely on wasting my upper body into nothing.
Since I’m not doing anything outrageous like routinely lifting weighty objects or doing pushups, the only conclusion I can draw is that I’m carrying too many groceries into the house at once. I’ve therefor moved to a strict regimen of only carrying one gallon of milk at a time. It takes twice as long to unload the car that way, but all that walking is good for my cardio, you just have to push through the pain. I also alternate hands every few strides if I’ve parked more than a hundred meters from the house in order to avoid becoming lopsided.
Finally, if this latest program doesn’t work out as well as I expect it to, I’ve also realized that while carbohydrates are an athlete’s friend in terms of providing easy energy to burn during a workout, they are heavy on the fork, and repetitively lifting forkloads of pasta into my mouth may be what’s causing my shoulders to bulk up unnecessarily. I’m therefor on the lookout for a healthy food source that can be drank from a straw or something in pellet form that I can peck out of a bowl.
It’s drastic, sure, but drastic times call for drastic measures, and I’m determined to get there eventually.
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
@Steampunk
Capris are pants that never got the Rule #5 talk. Pick a lane: shorts or pants!
@wiscot
I have to say that neither of those would be notches in my gun stock that I'd brag about...or want to remember.
@Mikael Liddy
Into the Lexicon with that one, mate. Charismatically Poisoned.
In the words of the prophet:
As much as I hated Pharmy, I think looking back at his era, we have little reason to believe he was doing anything different than his competition. They were all juiced, and he was the most focussed and determined rider of his generation.
To see him get dragged down like this seems more than pointless (they'll have to go down to 15th place to find a rider who hasn't been implicated) - it seem vindictive.
On the other hand, the rules are the rules and just because you're famous doesn't make you immune to them.
@Oli
I agree with the sentiment, though from what I've understood (don't have the articles to cite on hand), his foundation is really quite ineffective when it comes to cancer research - they are based on awareness, and I think we got the "awareness" bit a while ago: we got the message - cancer is an asshole. But his story has inspired many, that's for certain and that can't be taken away from anyone. I just hope cancer patients continue to have hope and continue to want to fight like he did.
@minion
Wow, that article actually made me laugh. Its not necessarily wrong, but I think your assessment that this is an indication of your sanity is not far off.
The cold war made us hungry for Lance to save us? Puh-lease.
@frank
That is awesome! Yeah, completely sitting on the fence. Hmm, where do knickers fit into the equation? Pretty nice in certain situation, though now that I have Kneekers I've been using those all the time. Mild "winter" here in NC last year.
Oh, and I realize my above statement was pretty crass. As if those women give two hoots about me. A nice way of putting it would have been that I don't find them particularly attractive. Others might, that's cool. I just don't dig Crow or Olsen. Sorry about that, no need to make it a men's club.
And Frank, VERY true about weight/bmi/etc. More than once I've been at the limit trying to stay with a guy thinking to myself, "What in the heck? He's fat! He has a gut?!" Kind of like a "ride what you got" - if you're a bigger person but can still motor, cool. If you're skinny but still have a sprint in ya, nice! Don't overthink it, just ride, eat well, rest, repeat.
Surely the USADA cannot remove Lance from Dodgeball?! I am sure skanky blood and EPO had nothing to do with his performance in that film and for me that was one of his finest moments!
@frank
Correct. This was reported a recent article in Outside Magazine. Basically Livestrong now funds very few--if any--research initiatives, choosing to focus their efforts and dollars on support initiates for patients and awareness campaigns.
Been quietly sitting and watching the whole Armstrong / USADA / UCI situation wondering where it will all take our sport. Nowhere very nice anyway. I have to post something somewhere, not that it''ll make me feel better. For all his perceived faults Armstrong was who inspired me off my solitary MTB onto the road and to train to race at the ripe old age of 37. Always got a kicking but enjoyed the experience. How we love to topple those on a pedestal, the UK does not have the monopoly on that. Where does it stop, how far back do we go to rewrite the almanacs? Lance was a product of his era, allegedly 500 tests and if 'they' could have caught him they would have. If he found that holy grail there is no pro cyclist of his time who would not have grabbed it with both hands and never looked back. In my opinion 'Chapeau! Now let's move on. Cycling needs to stop looking for the self destruct button and look forward to the truly clean riders we have racing now.
Not forgetting the original thread, 181cm, 70kg, ok climber, rubbish TT but rarely wear arm warmers because the ones that grip are never long enough. Stay off the cheese, beer and chocolate and they weight stays manageable I find.
Lance's socks and shorts were the wrong length - so like James Bond outing the assassin because he had red wine with chicken we knew there was something of the cad about the fellow.