Window Shopping

If you're not window shopping, you're lying.

One of the great dichotomies of being a Cyclist is that of our commitment to suffering paired against our fastidious attention to our appearance. We sacrifice endlessly for the sake of our craft, suffering hours on end in horrendous weather and diverting any money saved on depriving ourselves of food into maintaining and improving our equipment. At the same time, our morale hangs in the balance, governed by the silence of the machine we ride, the precision and coordination of our kit, or the state of our handlebar tape.

It has long fascinated me, the control that morale holds over our condition as riders. Training is obviously a fundamental component to our performance, but the edge of our form is sharpened or blunted by our mental state. Bad weather is a major lever for me personally; the more rubbish the weather, the better I feel about myself just for being out there and thus the better I ride. Which brings to light the underlying principle: it isn’t about vanity as much as it is about genuinely feeling good about ourselves, an idea concisely captured by Fournel’s Theorem: to look good is already to go fast.

It should come as no surprise to anyone that I take great pride and put a tremendous amount of energy into my appearance, both on the bike and off. Don Walker, who built my Hour track bike, remarked that if I spent half as much time training as I did worrying about the paint job, I’d stand half a chance at beating the record. (That’s two halves, are they additive or multiplicative?) The notion is nonsense, of course, although the observation does have a certain logical resonance. But what he is missing is the amount of Awesome I’ll feel climbing aboard the bike with matching VLVV skin suit; enough Awesome to power ten morons, plus two. You can’t train against that kind of Awesome, you have to fabricate it.

When out training, I shamelessly peer into every plate glass window I encounter, taking in how Fantastic I Look. In fleeting observations more akin to stop-action motion than live-film, I study my position, my weight, my stroke, and how my kit looks and fits. I’ll repeat this: shamelessly. And I’m willing to bet you do, too, even if you’re not willing to admit to it as flagrantly as I am. We never get to see ourselves busily at work at our craft; who doesn’t like a serendipitous acknowledgement of the fruits of our labor?

If you’re not window shopping, you’re doing it wrong. Or you’re lying.

Vive la Vie Velominatus.

frank

The founder of Velominati and curator of The Rules, Frank was born in the Dutch colonies of Minnesota. His boundless physical talents are carefully canceled out by his equally boundless enthusiasm for drinking. Coffee, beer, wine, if it’s in a container, he will enjoy it, a lot of it. He currently lives in Seattle. He loves riding in the rain and scheduling visits with the Man with the Hammer just to be reminded of the privilege it is to feel completely depleted. He holds down a technology job the description of which no-one really understands and his interests outside of Cycling and drinking are Cycling and drinking. As devoted aesthete, the only thing more important to him than riding a bike well is looking good doing it. Frank is co-author along with the other Keepers of the Cog of the popular book, The Rules, The Way of the Cycling Disciple and also writes a monthly column for the magazine, Cyclist. He is also currently working on the first follow-up to The Rules, tentatively entitled The Hardmen. Email him directly at rouleur@velominati.com.

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View Comments

minion says:

Mar 27 2016 at 6:40 pm

@Ron

You have, however read my mind with the post on clothes/food/fit. Instead of looking at shop windows, (which I do, obviously)I tend to interpret how good I look on the bike by looking down. How many sharp edges can I see on the calves? How hairy/hairless are the legs? How's the muscle definition above the knee, can you see more than one muscle there, or is there a sausage casing full of custard poking out your shorts? Basically the better the guns look, the better the rest of the ensemble looks, so long as you're following the rules.

Aaaaannnnnd as someone who packs lunch every day, and keeps a French press at work for the caffeination, it is ridiculous how much folks spend on lunches/ cafe/snacks. Also, in terms of on the bike food, I've got the Scratch lab cookbooks, (read rice, bacon, and cheese, chilled and in the back pocket) and am not averse to water with honey, or water with lemon juice and a small pinch of salt, in the bidon.
gilly says:

Mar 30 2016 at 12:59 am

What about riding behind a flat backed box van, preferably with blacked out windows. I've crawled through many slow rides home due to finding one of those in traffic. Mobile mirror.
brett says:

Apr 2 2016 at 9:54 pm

Did a bit of window shopping on our Ronde van VVellington ride today, and I must admit, I did Look pretty bloody Fantastic.
Dinan says:

Apr 30 2016 at 2:02 pm

"If you’re not window shopping, you’re doing it wrong. Or you’re lying."

Or you're a self absorbed, narcissist. Jesus, man. This article is incredibly de minimis.

-Dinan