Ohh God it burns, when these little balls of salty sweat roll or drop right into the corner of your eyes. It doesn't happen every ride. Sometimes it happens when it hot, sometimes when it's not.
Being a fat biker (pedaling not Harley) with no pigment leaves me little choice. I have to ride at night or risk Satan's kisses (sunburn all over). I'm a night person anyway. I put on two motorcycle power headlights, a flashing red tail light and head out once the sun turned off.
Most cyclists are your basic MAMIL's (middle-aged men in lycra) -- you know harmless, masochistic skinny fucks who enjoy burning muscle pain and oxygen deprivation. But occasionally out of a pack of MAMIL's, one douchebag will pop up like burnt toast. There's a few different types of douches, but the worst is the wheel-sucker.
It's been 30 years of political battles to get cities to build bike lanes. And then the god damn cyclists ride right next to the white line.
One of the worst parts of being a fat cyclist is the clothes.
Cycling is supposed to be some crunchy-granola-zen shit -- but it's not...
The worst part of road biking: flat tires. And I get a shit ton of flat tires. The last two were annoying little piss ant slow leaks
I used to wonder how all these bicycle shops on every corner stayed in business. Then I got into cycling. Mystery solved
When I first started cycling, I had no idea it was a "social" activity. But sometimes I can't get these fuckers to shut up.
Being the fat guy at the start line in a cycling event is like being the hairy 300-pound dude at the beach in a speedo. I'm in my tight-ass shorts surrounded by all these skinny happy fucks talking about their "race" goals. They are setting up their cadence counters, heart monitors and the other bullshit … Continue reading Fat Biker Problems – Events