Sharing the road with a fat cyclist

One of my favorite forms of exercise is to get out on the open road on my bike. However, riding my bike on the road does have its risks as my 20 pound bike is no match for the 1000 pound vehicles moving past me at 3 times my speed. Because of that risk, I take several safety precautions. I always wear my helmet, I follow the laws of the road, and I ride as far on the shoulder as I can safely get. I try to make eye contact with drivers when possible and wave to anyone who gives me a glance in an effort to build cycling goodwill.


Recently, I was on one of my weekly training rides and I experienced a lack of cycling goodwill. As I rode on one of our local country roads, doing my best impression of Lance Armstrong, a late model pickup truck pulled alongside of me. Initially I was excited, as I envisioned this truck serving as a support vehicle, handing me a fresh, ice cold water bottles and yelling me encouragement, “keep pushing, you are looking great!” Unfortunately, my imaginary world did not measure up to the reality of the situation. A very angry man began yelling what would best be described as “not encouraging and not supportive.” Let me clarify, if his statements had been on television, it would have resembled a Jerry Springer Show and been one long censuring beep, HBO producers would have blushed.

As this southern gentleman sped away with squealing tires and a plume of black exhaust smoke, I was left wondering, why was he so angry? Well, since I had plenty of time to think in the saddle of my trusty steed, I decided to try and identify the cause of this mad man’s angst. My first thought was that he was simply a concerned citizen who had my safety in mind. However, after careful consideration, and interpreting his parting statement of, “I hope you are run down in traffic!” I doubt that my safety was at the core of his anger.

My second thought was that he was upset by the sight of me in proper cycling attire. While these garments are highly functional for cycling, they unfortunately are not very flattering (unless you are Lance or one of his teammates). To be honest, “not flattering”, is probably a minimization of the horror of seeing a grown man, my size, wearing tights. If this issue was at the core of his fury, I actually wouldn’t blame him. In fact, the sight of me in that suit for most people is probably something akin to drinking sour milk. Although, as I rode along with only my thoughts to keep me company, I decided a normal response would more closely resemble disgust than anger.

That only left me with one possible conclusion for this level of rage - he felt inconvenienced by my presence with him on the road. Now I guess I can understand that at some level as people who drive 5 mph under the speed limit drive me nuts, but I don’t pull up next to the 80 year old woman and curse at her. Ultimately, the anger was simply uncalled for. The reality is, cycling is a wonderful sport and is good for the community. It doesn’t take much to slow down a bit and give the cyclist a little space, especially when the alternative can be life-threatening. So next time you see a fat cyclist plodding along on the side of the road, please slow down and give me a wave, just don’t make it the middle finger.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times . . . with the bike.

It was an interesting week, on and off the bike. My weekly column for the Cleveland Daily Banner hit a new high, as it was picked up by the AP and ultimately posted on the USA Cycling Website (http://www.usacycling.org/) in their "Cycling in the news" section, (scroll down to find, "Pushing Pedals can be a Passion . . ."). As a lifelong cycling enthusiast, it was a great honor to get an email from USA Cycling supporting the column AND notifying me that they published a link to my column.
That was the exciting news ON the bike, now the total gaff I made on the bike. I am a little more than 6 weeks away from my AtomicMan event and I need to increase my training for the bike leg. Wednesday night (coincidentally the same night my column ran in the Banner) I rode a monster 42 mile ride through the rolling hills of Bradley County. I did over 5 miles of serious climbing. The ride was awesome, except for one little mistake - I ran out of water. Yes, the oldest rule in the book, drink enough water, and I violated it!
Actually it was a fair mistake, I had a park that I normally fill my bottles at, but because of the length of the ride, the building was closed and I did not have access to the water. I thought I might be alright since I only had about 11 miles to go at that point . . . I was wrong. I didn't "bonk" on the bike, I actually finished the ride strong (averaging 17 mph over the full 42 miles), but when I got home I felt it. I started getting tunnel vision, dizzy, and a little nauseous. My beautiful and UNDERSTANDING wife allowed me to climb into bed at about 8:30 and feed me fluids until I went to sleep. Lesson learned, don't tempt fate on dehydration. Probably one of my most embarrassing moment in the saddle (next to the time that 60 year old woman passed me on the century ride).
As Dickens would say, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times . . ." for me and the bike. I can't wait and see what next week brings!