Some of you may wonder just how long I'm going to continue calling this blog "Midlife Cycling."
As I've said in other posts, as long as I don't know when I'm going to die, I consider myself to be in the middle of my life.
This T-shirt offers another explanation of this blog's title:
In my youth, one of the few midlife (!) cyclists I knew gave me this bit of advice: "The three most important things to do while riding are to hydrate, hydrate and hydrate, in that order."
My memory might be a bit fuzzy, but I believe his cupboard looked something like this:
Susan B. Anthony remarked that the bicycle did more than anything else to liberate women.
Sometimes I wonder what she would have made of couples on tandems. Almost any time I've seen a male-female riding duo, the male is in the front, or "captain's" position and the female is in the rear. That means the man/boy is steering and, depending on how much input he gets or takes from his partner, is determining the course of the ride.
Is there any way to correct that imbalance?
(Snark alert)
Why is road bike racing not more popular?
I don't blame Lance Armstrong being stripped of his titles or the sport's other doping scandals. I blame Miguel Indurain.
As much as I respect him as a cyclist, he had to be one of the least charismatic athletic champions of my lifetime. When he won a stage or a race, it was just another good day at the office, and he went home to rest up--so he could win again. He didn't celebrate, boast or even "talk up" his achievements. In other words, he was the antithesis of, say, Muhammad Ali or Reggie Jackson or Brandi Chastain.
When he was on the podium, Miguel Indurain--who turned 58 yesterday-- should have been more like this guy:
Some might say that, at my age, the title of my blog is a statement of denial or defiance.
As I have said, as long as I don't know when my life will end, I am in the middle of it--in midlife, if you will.
If I am indeed in the middle of my life, what is my "cycle" of life?
Whatever it is, I hope the end doesn't look like the last frame of Andy Singer's cartoon!
During the pandemic, many people adopted dogs. I joked with a neighbor that our street should be renamed "Westminster" because of all of the folks promenading with their pooches.
Along with the increased numbers came canines in configurations and colors I'd never seen before. Some are previously-obscure breeds that found popularity; others, it turns out are new cross-breeds.
I wonder whether some cyclist is trying to create a dog that can accompany a rider without being bundled into a basket or box.
For that matter, is someone trying to breed a cat that can be brought on a bike ride, period? No offense, Marlee!
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When I first became a dedicated cyclist, as a teenager in the mid-1970s, I knew some men who wouldn't ride because they didn't want to shave their legs.
I would explain that racers did it because, they believed, it gave them an aerodynamic advantage. Whether or not there is such a benefit, there was another reason for racers to depilate their limbs: It made cleaning and dressing wounds easier. But even when I had pretensions to racing, I never believed that it was necessary to shave if one simply wanted to ride a bike.
My body hair has always been so light and fine, and grown so slowly, that almost nobody can tell whether or not I've shaved. Today I can go for months without putting a blade to my calves and shins: From what my doctor has told me and what I've heard and read in other places, my hormones and surgery have slowed the growth, which was always slow anyway.
But if you see someone with thickets of coarse hair on his limbs, there is at least one thing you can assume about him:
So-- Why does a girl ride?
Specifically, why does this girl (yours truly) ride?
Like many adolescents, I baby-sat.
Two of my regular sit-ees were two boys, Michael and Peter Reck. (Yes, that was their last name.) I would ride my Schwinn Continental to their house, where I parked it in the garage vacated by Mr. and Mrs. Reck's Volvo when they went out for the night.
The boys were funny and engaging. I made some atttempts to be entertaining. They especially liked my impression of a Sesame Street character: the Cookie Monster.
I hadn't thought about them, the cookie monster or the fact that I parked my bike in place of the family car until I came across this:
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| By Mike Joos, who also did this. |
I am posting today's image for the benefit for any non-cyclist who might be riding.
If you are such a reader, you might have wondered what's on a cyclist's mind near the end of a long, hot, arduous ride.
I am here to tell, or rather, show you:
One reason I cycle is its effect on my mental health.
In short, bicycling makes me happy. How happy?
When I cycle, I'm a cat on a tandem and I allow a mouse ride on the rear. And I mean ride: The mouse doesn't even have to pedal.
Wheee!
When you reach a certain age, you see young people who don't ride nearly as much or eat as well as you do, but are skinnier.
Here is one possible explanation:
I have to admit that I never worked an unpaid internship. But I have worked for very little money and, like the cyclist in the illustration, survived on food not bought in my local bodega!
Do you hope the kid who rode the bike wasn't hurt--or wonder how powerful a rider he or she will be all grown up?
I mean, if a toddler could ride hard or fast enough to knock that thing--a surveillance camera, I think--imagine him or her in the peloton at age 27.
Just hope that kid was wearing a helmet.
The bike doesn't look any the worse for the crash, though!
Definitions of a good cycling diet have changed and diverged during my nearly-half century of dedicated riding. Around the time I first started taking rides more of more than an hour from my family's home, Eddy Mercx broke the hour record in Mexico City on a day when he downed toast, ham and cheese--all of which he brought from his native Belgium--for breakfast.
Over the years, we've been told not to eat meat or dairy during a ride, or at all. We've also been advised that we should consume carbohydrates and everything from GORP (good ol' raisins and peanuts) to Himalayan foxtail millet cakes slathered with yak butter touted as the ideal cycling foods.
Deep down, though, we all know there's one food all cyclists--in fact, all people--love:
Aside from showing a woman eating a slice while cradling a box of pizza on her exercise bike, this photo is funny in other ways. For one, it could only be from the '80's: When else would someone wear sport an outfit or hairdo like hers? Or wear a waist pack on an exercise bike?
But eating pizza: That's always permissible. It's one of the few things that never goes out of style, among cyclists or anyone else!
In my half-century of dedicated cycling, I've noticed that, when it comes to food, there are two extreme types of cyclists. One fuels up on pepperoni pizza washed down with Coke or Pepsi and eats steaks or cheeseburgers and ice cream after the ride. The other wants the packaging to be as organic as the food in it.
Most cyclists, of course, fall somewhere in between. I admit that I eat and drink stuff that isn't found on most training tables, but I cringe at Twinkies, Jell-O and the like. I eat less meat in all forms than I did in my youth--and I not only eat more vegetables, but more of them are fresh rather than processed.
Like many other Americans, during the past decade or so, I have discovered the joys of one vegetable in particular:
In nearly half a century of cycling, I have had two incidents that sent me to the emergency room. Both happened in 2020: I was "doored" in October after suffering a "face plant" in June. I hope not to endure anything like either of those accidents again (or something worse!). But if I do--and I'm not seriously hurt--this is how I'll explain it:
If you are my age or older, you may have ridden with a "leather hairnet." Similar to the headgear worn by US football players until the 1950s, they were a lattice of foam-filled straps that might have prevented a scrape or two in a minor crash but probably were useless in a headlong fall or impact with a motor vehicle.
I had one such helmet in my youth. (Yes, believe it or not, I had one of those.) But I never wore it because it was too cumbersome and hot. I had those same complaints when I first started wearing a hardhat-- a later-version Bell "turtle shell" nearly four decades ago--but have covered my head while riding ever since.
My "hairnet" disappeared into the mists of history. Actually, I think I lost it during a move. I got to thinking about it when I came across this:
When I first got serious about cycling, nearly half a century ago(!), the question was: Reynolds 531 or Columbus SL? Sometimes Vitus 971 was included, and within a few years,Tange and Ishiwata (The latter was seriously underrated, in my opinion!) would become part of the discussion.
Later, cyclists argued about whether to ride frames made of aluminum, titanium, carbon fiber--or steel. When serious cyclists said "steel," of course, they didn't mean the gaspipe-grade stuff used on bikes sold in big-box stores: They were referring to Reynolds, Columbus and Tange (though in new configurations), Dedaccai and other makers.
Today, I am going to settle the question about frame materials, for once and for all. Or, to be exact, someone more famous (and therefore more of an expert) than me--will give us the answer we've all been waiting for:
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| By Mike Joos |
