Yesterday the weather was perfect for a bike ride around the lake. That’s my usual cycling route and sort of a standard: It’s mostly flat, though there are some hills at the beginning and end, and it’s a little over twelve miles, ten miles being about as far as my butt can go and still feel comfortable on a bicycle seat. I had a short break in the middle when I stopped at Machinery Row bicycle shop to buy a pair of overpriced cycling gloves to replace the very old pair I can’t find. Everything seems to be overpriced at Machinery Row, but the service is very good.
Just about everybody with a bike was out on the roads yesterday. They can’t help themselves when the weather is so good. My route runs past about a half-dozen parks; people were stretched out on blankets in the smaller ones, some reading or sitting together with a friend, some just basking in the warm sun. One guy was out with his cat, which sat obediently next to him. In the larger parks the people were teamed up to play soccer or volleyball, basketball or Frisbee.
Most of the cyclists I see dress in racing togs when they’re cycling. I do not. I used to have a pair of cycling shorts, the kind with padding in the crotch, because I thought it would be make the longer rides more comfortable, and it did, but only as long as I was on the bike. When I got off the bike to take a break or to visit a store, I was never unaware that I had a thick pad of chamois wedged in my crotch. There was no way I could wear those shorts and not walk funny. And I was always self-conscious about my ass being on display under a thin layer of skin-tight Lycra, until I started to wear a pair of street shorts over the biking shorts, which sort of defeats the purpose of wearing a breathable fabric. I haven’t worn biking shorts in a few years but I may have to get another pair as my butt becomes bonier in my old age.
This Is Drivel 