Cycling 101

I am a terrible cyclist.  It's really true.  I lack some fundamental cerebellar function that makes riding a bicycle a natural thing to do.  I learned how when I was young, I rode about throughout my youth - a little, but riding my bike has never been easy.  I had a time where I was earthy and rode my bike to and from work, but even then I was first blind date awkward.  It's just the reality.  I drive around the Boulder area and watch pro cyclists, children and yes even old men gracefully cycle past.  I am a far cry from graceful.  And I've grown comfortable with this.

This state of awkward is compounded by the relatively recent edition of clip-less pedals to my spinning get up.  I can understand why an athlete would want to be intimate with their equipment, feel one with the bike.  I also recognize that cycling is much easier when attached, cutting the overall workload.  But there is something all together awful about not being able to put my foot down when confronted with any sort of bicycle instability.

Getting Equipped and Fit to the Bicycle...I Love the Comfort of the Living Room

I can't get my feet into the things, resulting in my riding down the street, legs pushing the pedals over and over madly to get up enough momentum to fight my feet into the pedals.  I coast along, swerving this way and that, pressing my poor shoes against their metal counterparts - "go into the hole, make that click sound, come on!"  I will the two metal bits together.  My momentum fades, and again I am left to awkwardly flail, feet out of the pedals.  Fail.  

I finally get the suckers matched and clicked, however this triumph is short lived.  In the time it has taken me to clip in to my bike, I now realize I am barely moving, completely unstable and swerving in and out of the bike lane causing traffic diversions that could be better described as detours.  Again, fail.

Now that I'm clipped into my bike, it should be easy right?  Not so much, for the rest of the ride I am focused.  From negotiating traffic, praying traffic lights will remain green and staying upright in the gravel, every cell in my being is deadpan set on staying alive.  Sometimes I question whether it is adrenaline or hypoxia that is the greater cause of my increased heart rate.

Awkward, but Clipped in!!!

Brandon is a pro cyclist.  And I'm not being hyperbolic.  He spent last fall in practices with some of the elite cyclists and kept up with the big boys - without much training.  When we go on our rider, he rides his fat tire bike (cross bike) so he doesn't get too bored, and I don't fall too far behind.  I've gotten over the fundamental embarrassment.  

Brandon Riding a Cross Race in the Fall

I appreciate his company when I ride.  Not only will I have someone to bear witness to any spectacular demise, he tells me when there's a car coming, and what gear I am in.  2 details that I tend to lose track of as I fend for me life. 

Despite all of the trials and tribulations of this sport, there is an element that I truly enjoy.  The views of the flatirons are magnificent, the enjoyment of riding when everything does click is awesome, the time spent with Brandon - all of these things make it worth the while.  

Brandon keeps telling me that I will get it, he encourages and supports.  He has also says that he doesn't know what's more stressful - going out together, or when I go alone...not certain what he means by that.  

If I decide to sign up for a triathlon, I best get my butt into gear and figure out how to clip in, negotiate traffic, and handle the two-wheeled monster (I call her Big Red).  For now, I approach Big Red with respect and trepidation.