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.
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Fuck, man! Between all the Selfies you take and now all the "Window Shopping" you're admitting to, it is a fuck'in miracle that you have not ridden off a cliff or into a pond yet.
But, that being said, when we look this glorious, it is distracting, isn't it???
@Mitch
Only if you discard its history and concentrate on its more recent (medical) usage.
Moron: from Greek mōron, neuter of mōros 'foolish'
I've always assumed this was the purpose of the plate Windows.
@Buck Rogers
Agreed, distracting and downright dangerous...the only area around me with a decent row of reflective windows is the historic area of town, with brick cross walks, pedestrians who believe they have the right of way, and stoplights every 50 meters, not to mention the cars who are against bikes taking the lane....its only safe to get a proper look early on a Sunday morning.
Unfortunately plate windows are scarce in my parts. Though on a sunny day I will ride with the big orb to my left and examine my stroke via shadow. This has also extended to checking out smoothly I can fetch, gush, and return my bidon.
How about purposefully not getting undressed when you get home after a ride until you've stood in front of the mirror and admired yourself? Or going into the bathroom at work to check your look after a morning ride in?
Had some photos taken this weekend with the VMH to capture the impressive size of her huge belly. It might have been the size of hers...but I seem to be down to spring riding weight. Excellent! Pants are all loose, bibs don't feel like a girdle, being in the drops feels good, not bad.
Oh, and as for looking good off the bike. I tend to wear the same clothes, shoes, etc. over and over because I am completely unable to feel good and calm unless what I'm wearing fits perfectly. It's bad. Serious OCD comes out. I have shirts that I think look awesome, but they don't feel right, so they've been in my closet for years.
And saving money. I absolutely cannot believe how much money most folks waste on silly drinks (energy/detox/wimpy caffeine) and purchased foods, whether pre-cooked or at restaurants. $5 drink in the morning, $10 lunch...that's a nice new bike in the course of one year! I've cooked professionally, so enjoy making most of my own food. And we have a productive garden too. Eating well doesn't have to cost much, though most people pay too much to eat poorly.
Frank - are those the Jawbreakers? File a report, if so! Have they outdone the Radars? I find that hard to believe, as the Radars are fucking incredible cycling shades.
HoooolleeeeeeFACK! One of my long-standing fears is being crushed in the Achilles by an old granny at the grocery store. If not moving, I stand with my back to the shelves and I never let cart pushers walk behind me. And now I see this...
"[Yves] Lampaert has an inflamed Achilles tendon after his girlfriend hit his heel with a supermarket cart on Monday.
"He had a Lidl accident," Lefevere joked, referring to the team's supermarket sponsor Lidl. "He shouldn't have been in the supermarket with his girlfriend on Monday but on his couch. His girlfriend ran into his heel. Vanmol said it wasn't possible to ride with it. It's a rider we're missing here. He asked not to ride in San Remo to be good here.'"
@PeakInTwoYears
Uh, yeah. That was supposed to read "flagrantly".
@Ron
What's the old cyclists motto? Don't stand if you can sit and don't sit if you can lie down. I see no mention of grocery shopping with a girlfriend in that wisdom. There was another bit of advice about the amount of time a pro should abstain from sex before certain races like tours and classics. Some wag remarked that it was a wonder Kelly's wife was not still a virgin many years into their marriage.