It must be hell to be the mate of a cycling addict. Things that are hugely important like skinny tires, high tech toys, and the need for speed all threaten our closest relationships.
“Can’t we just sightsee?”
Gulp…
Follow the leader: Paula takes me for a ride on the Burke Gilman.
The mind of the cycling addict goes into spasm: Uh oh, that sounds just like the other day when she asked: “Does this outfit make me look fat?” There is no right answer. You are doomed.
“Um, yes, sightseeing, on a bike, by all means honey.”
Who has time to snuggle and spoon when a big ride looms (and there is always one looming) and you need to get in some serious mileage?
Under threat of divorce, here are some of the rules my mate has imposed on our fitness outings:
1. No cycling clothing or race kits allowed: Lycra is evil.
2. No skinny tires. The more rolling resistance the better.
3. Ride/run/hike/ski behind at all times
4. If another rider passes you when you are cycling with your mate, take a deep breath and fight the urge to bridge the gap no matter how painful it is to see them ride into the distance.
5. No heart rate monitors or speedometers allowed. It’s about quality not quantity.
6. Never exceed 50% of your max heart rate. This is a recovery ride.
7. Non-cycling outings are to be justified as ‘cross-training’
8. Plan a breve stop for each ride. Coffee is after all, a health food, and milk contains whey, a key recovery nutrient.
And last but definitely not least:
9. Never, ever park the bike in the bedroom. Stop deluding yourself. Your mate is never gonna go for that kind of threesome.
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