And the truth shall set you free.
I priced racing bikes on Tuesday of last week. Based on what I would want--and the price tags associated--I quickly decided that I will not be buying a new bike before the unemployment rate drops below 6%. Right now I'm down to one single-speed track bike(DAWES SST) and a burly (Schwinn) mountain bike. I modified the Dawes for the 11 mile sprints home from the office in Baymeadows as quickly as possible, with a gear just toothy enough to get me over a bridge or two in good order, but always avoided anything longer as I would pick up more mileage once I got 'my' road bike. Actually crossing that item off of the TO DO list, freed up my imagination in incredibly short order though and I'm pretty stoked about it.
Deciding just to sprint south for half an hour and then crawl back as fast as I could on Tuesday afternoon, I ended up running down a pack of road bikers (the spandex wearing kind) but then getting stuck with them again at the bottom of the bridge at a red light. I think they were the star-bellied sneetches so it felt kind of weird, being a plain-bellied sneetch as I am, to ask them where they were heading, but they were going to the same area I was as luck would have it. I asked if they minded adding one more, they said "sure, come on" so that was that. Four folks with 84 gears between them, clad in polyester skin suits and me with baggy brown denim shorts and a cotton t-shirt, pedaling down the road in some kind of bizarre "one-of-these-is-not-like-the-others" quiz. Ended up doing a 26 miler, which is a total joke on a bike--frankly, but still more than I'd ever done on my SST due to its former "commuting-only" status. I actually learned a lot about communicating and etiquette in groups so that was quite cool, and when I had a flat 12 miles from my house, I learned how to use 'chopsticks' and CO2 cartridges on the side of the road to keep going. (heretofore, my repair kit has been made up solely of bus fare)
The only odd part of the experience was from around mile 14 to mile 24 the other riders kept asking me if I was alright.
"How are you doing?"
"Are you doing okay?"
"You didn't bring any water?"
"Is that a fixed gear?"
"You can't stop pedalling can you?"
All of these questions had a slight whiff of condescension to them that I found somewhat odd. That far into the ride, I knew I could beat any one of them--I'm confident I could have beaten the best of them if they all worked together--back into Riverside, they just didn't know it. It felt odd to have them assuming such patriarchal or maternal roles, knowing this. It was a matter of uniforms though and I find that interesting. Both for their assumptions at the time and for my own assumptions when I started to ride with them. I wanted to ride with them because I figured they were better riders based on their expensive-looking bikes and all their bright spandex. Even cues of body composition (not that any of them were morbidly obese) yielded way to the polyester logic. That, to me, is the most fascinating part. I fell for it; they fell for it. But being the odd one out, and frankly, glad to see what it was like to ride in a group like that I just politely responded with the truthful answer. As we approached the Acosta Bridge on the return trip though all condescension was removed from the equation and I doubt any of them will ever ask me if I'm okay again unless I'm grimacing or bleeding or something.
So that was fun, and it gives me a new outlet aside from running which I probably need, as I'm not very fond of the idea of 'off days.'
Deciding just to sprint south for half an hour and then crawl back as fast as I could on Tuesday afternoon, I ended up running down a pack of road bikers (the spandex wearing kind) but then getting stuck with them again at the bottom of the bridge at a red light. I think they were the star-bellied sneetches so it felt kind of weird, being a plain-bellied sneetch as I am, to ask them where they were heading, but they were going to the same area I was as luck would have it. I asked if they minded adding one more, they said "sure, come on" so that was that. Four folks with 84 gears between them, clad in polyester skin suits and me with baggy brown denim shorts and a cotton t-shirt, pedaling down the road in some kind of bizarre "one-of-these-is-not-like-the-others" quiz. Ended up doing a 26 miler, which is a total joke on a bike--frankly, but still more than I'd ever done on my SST due to its former "commuting-only" status. I actually learned a lot about communicating and etiquette in groups so that was quite cool, and when I had a flat 12 miles from my house, I learned how to use 'chopsticks' and CO2 cartridges on the side of the road to keep going. (heretofore, my repair kit has been made up solely of bus fare)
The only odd part of the experience was from around mile 14 to mile 24 the other riders kept asking me if I was alright.
"How are you doing?"
"Are you doing okay?"
"You didn't bring any water?"
"Is that a fixed gear?"
"You can't stop pedalling can you?"
All of these questions had a slight whiff of condescension to them that I found somewhat odd. That far into the ride, I knew I could beat any one of them--I'm confident I could have beaten the best of them if they all worked together--back into Riverside, they just didn't know it. It felt odd to have them assuming such patriarchal or maternal roles, knowing this. It was a matter of uniforms though and I find that interesting. Both for their assumptions at the time and for my own assumptions when I started to ride with them. I wanted to ride with them because I figured they were better riders based on their expensive-looking bikes and all their bright spandex. Even cues of body composition (not that any of them were morbidly obese) yielded way to the polyester logic. That, to me, is the most fascinating part. I fell for it; they fell for it. But being the odd one out, and frankly, glad to see what it was like to ride in a group like that I just politely responded with the truthful answer. As we approached the Acosta Bridge on the return trip though all condescension was removed from the equation and I doubt any of them will ever ask me if I'm okay again unless I'm grimacing or bleeding or something.
So that was fun, and it gives me a new outlet aside from running which I probably need, as I'm not very fond of the idea of 'off days.'