Everybody else loses weight when they ride a bike. Not me. I’ve ridden more than 20,000 miles since 2010, and I just keep getting fatter and fatter.
Yeah, Yeah… I should eat better and try other things. Fuck that. I like beer and wings and other shitty stuff.
Other than the few weeks in the 80’s when I met the Bear, I’ve been fat my whole life (lucky her). I usually don’t give a shit what I look like. But I look so ridiculous cycling even I notice.
At those goddamn cycling events they always have photographers and post the pictures. I can’t keep myself from clicking the links. Row after row of tri-athlete-looking skinny fuckers. Then me. Looks like someone snuck in a picture from Sea World. I’m the walrus on a unicycle.
Cycling is just not designed for fat people. Those fucking tight clothes make us look like hot dogs that have been left too long in the microwave — all the fatty meat is busting out of the casing.
I’d wear bigger and looser if I could. I’m a 2X in real clothes. Cycling clothes either don’t exist or it’s a 4X shirt, and even the 4X is tight.
Last week, I’m stopped at a light next to a small sedan full of girls. Could be teens, could be 20-somethings. Who can tell with their fucking “up talking” and crappy vocabulary. The window is down, and some Katy Perry kinda teenage whiny dance shit is playing loud. They are shouting.
“Why do those bike guys wear those tight-ass shorts…” giggles. “It looks like a cheek is about to bust out.” Laughs.
I just look over and wave. No eye contact. No words exchanged.
But for the rest of you, those little tight shorts are important. They are literally saving my ass. The shorts have a big pad for the “sit bones.”
If I spend 2-6 hours pedaling, that will be 9,000 to 27,000 revolutions. Anything loose is going to rub – 10,000 times. I’d like to keep my balls blister free, thank you. So tight shorts it is.
Cycling is basically a sport of pound for pound strength and cardio endurance. If you can put out a lot of watts per pound, you can cycle fast. I’m slow as hell — especially uphill.
But being heavy usually means more power and that can help on a flat road or downhill. And in a group, everyone can draft and save 20-30 percent effort.
So in group rides, on the downhill or flat, I usually end up in front of a small pack. I’m working hard and they are not. I can hear the little fucks coasting behind me and just chatting away.
” I like following him downhill,” one lady I never met before said. “It’s like getting behind a truck.”
If they leave me out there and won’t share the workload, I only have 2 weapons to fight back:
a constant stream of sweat that splashes whoever dare to stay in my slipstream
Mess with me, and you may get slimed — one nostril at a time.
So if you are out driving, look out for the fat cyclists, and have plenty of windsheild washing fluid in your tank. You’re probably going to need it.