I was a few minutes late out the door this afternoon on my way to class (after having worked at home and gone to Jeff Hightower's funeral) and encountered several things which slowed me down on the way to campus. So I walked in late (thankfully with another classmate) still decked out in my full cycling regalia. The professor broke his lecture briefly to welcome us and then, in reaction to either my French football team jersey or my lycra shorts said something along the lines of, "well that's interesting" before moving on. He has lived and worked extensively in France and would later comment that with my jersey I reminded him of his son. So maybe the comment was sparked by the former... but let's be honest, your average person is still a bit surprised to encounter a guy in lycra.
I guess in six short months I've earned my cycling credentials having not only adopted many of the sport's trappings, but wholly embraced them. I love my compression shorts and I'm not particularly embarrassed to walk into a room of 30 of my peers wearing them. (This probably comes as no surprise to those of you who knew me when I first started shaving my legs in college.)
I laughed a year ago when this Pearls Before Swine strip ran:
![](http://pics.livejournal.com/silverslider/pic/0001r8dz/s320x240)
It's funny, of course, because it's true. Cycling brings such joy and transformation into people's lifestyles (and lives) that it's not unlike a religious conversion, with all the attendant evangelism. I can't deny that I've quickly joined the ranks, though I hope to be among those who try to be a little humble about it. But as Stephen Pastis captures so well, that can be... hard.