Bugs, Pedestrians, and Other Sundries

Do not ride with your mouth open.

That might seem as if it should be self-evident. 

It is not.

Something about the cycling position, combined with the helmet, or…something makes your mouth want to be open. Not a gaping maw or anything, just, slightly ajar.

This can be a problem.

Bugs. 

They travel in packs. Okay, maybe *packs* isn’t quite the right word. What is the collective noun for bugs? Horde? Swarm? Cloud?

Whatever.

There’s a bunch of them. 

It’s never just one. Oh, no. It’s twenty or thirty of those little no-see-ums, and they, invariably, head straight for your slightly open mouth.

No doubt some of you possess the sang-froid to stay upright and perfectly balanced when spitting and coughing bugs. Or perhaps your tastes are merely eclectic when it comes to sources of protein.

Some of us are less cosmopolitan. Both in coordination and what we are willing to ingest. 

* * * 

While we’re on the subject of bugs….

Sunscreen.

Picture it. Riding into the wind.

Picture it. Bugs coasting on the breeze.

Picture it. Little black bugs meet white and slightly sticky sunscreen.

PICTURE IT.

Yeah.…

Moving on. 

* * * 

Pedestrians. 

Ah. Dear, sweet, oblivious pedestrians. 

I could babble on for hours about the inequities of pedestrians. 

It would be like Steve complaining about other drivers. 😂

Don’t misunderstand! I was once one of those oblivious pedestrians. In light of my new knowledge, it’s a marvel I survived the experience.

For sake of brevity, I’ll limit my commentary to saying there appears to be a surfeit of optimistic pedestrians. Casual ramblers without the slightest clue a fledgling cyclist might not be capable of stopping on a dime. 

Optimists. 

Or suicidal.

Cycling is a dangerous sport. 

All I’m sayin’.

Donations:

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/Cheryl_Masraum

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/Steve_Masraum

Unisex is a Four Letter Word

Cycling clothes. 

I approve. 

Don’t get me wrong! They are weird. 

Form fit, semi-form fit, crazy colors, bibs vs shorts. Definitely not your run of the mill articles of clothing. Still, they are fun and flattering if you happen to have the right body type.

I am cute in cycling clothes. *flips hair*

There is, however, one little problem. 

I am of the pale persuasion. 

Pale. That would be me.  

My epidermis is completely unwilling to embrace the concept of tanning. Despite numerous discussions over the years, it stands firm. Tanning is simply not part of my skin’s lexicon.

Now, burning? My skin has that down to a science. 

For reasons that escape me, cycling clothes like to expose arms and legs. Clearly, this was not going to work for my particular situation. 

No worries! Someone thought of a solution. Enter sun sleeves. For legs.

Great idea, right? Long narrow casings that cover calf to mid-thigh and block that pesky, burn-inducing, cancer-causing, sun. 

I go to order a pair. 

Unisex. Huh. Okay. *looks over the size chart*

Hmmm. Those measurements put me smack dab in…extra small? 

This would be what is called foreshadowing.

I am not a large women. I am not a small woman. I am…sort of a stretched-out petite. Slim, but tallish. Call it medium sized.

A tendril of apprehension did it's best to get my attention. I slapped it back.

It said unisex. 

Right there. In the product description. Unisex. A guarantee by the manufacturer that the item in question was suitable for both men and women.

Order placed.

I am not the most observant creature, but over the years I have managed to notice a few little differences between men and women. One, at least in my experience, is that men tend to carry more muscle. Steve and I illustrate this pattern. Should I add here that neither of us is overweight and we’re both in reasonable shape?

One word. 

Thighs.

Steve's are solid, clearly defined muscle groups. Rock hard.

Mine are firm. No squish, no pudge, just…firm.

Bear this information in mind as we go forth.

The sun legs arrive.

Cute! I slid those little white casings on and settled the elastic mid-quadricep. Bibs and jersey followed. Feeling pretty sassy, I sauntered over to the full-length mirror.

One glance nearly caused a seizure. 

I was sporting two sausages where there should have been one thigh.

It took me a minute to catch my breath.

Surely…something? The light was casting funny shadows? I’d caught an off angle?  My vision was going?

I risked another look.

I clutched the counter top and tried not to hyperventilate.

Those…could not possibly be my legs. 😳

Lord. Love. A. Duck.

There are a lot of things I could say here. Not one of them polite. 

I suppose, it’s just possible, that somewhere on the planet there are women who don’t mind having their thighs bisected to look like two sausages?  

It’s possible.

If you know one I’d like to meet her. 😐

There is no way these things were ever, ever, ever tested on women. I know this because any women would have burned them on removal.

UNISEX MY…PALE POSTERIOR!

*For anyone interested in knowing how I solved this little issue, I sized up to a small. Which I then hiked to the top of my thighs. Pretty? Not exactly. However, until I have time to orchestrate a protest on this clear violation of a women’s right to not have clothing make her legs look like sausages…it will have to do.

Donations:

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/Cheryl_Masraum

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/Steve_Masraum

Cycling: Things I Have Learned

There are a lot of things I could talk about here, but since time is short, I’ve winnowed down topics to a select few.  Probably not the most helpful or informative few.  More in the nature of unexpected (to me) tidbits.

A PREVIEW

- Ducks are a Hazard. I Repeat. DUCKS ARE A HAZARD.

- Unisex is a Four Letter Word.

- Steep Hills and Concrete Channels: A Love Affair

- Bugs, Pedestrians and Other Sundries.

- Wall versus Bonk

- Wind. Cycling’s Ninth Circle of Hell. 

- Come a Cropper

- I…Beg Your Pardon? 😳

- Training, i.e. The History of a Divorce

- The Three Ss: Sit Bones, Safety, Survival.

Do not let the order fool you. 

There is no order. 😂

Some may be discussed at length. Others I may ignore entirely.  New topics may be introduced.

I guarantee nothing. Except piffling. I am a piffler. 

Prepare to be piffled!

Donations:

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/Cheryl_Masraum

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/Steve_Masraum

It Begins

I blame Brian. 

I want that clear from the start.

We were sitting around, being lazy, minding our own business, when the ping of Steve’s phone announced a text.

Steve: Brian bought a bike.

Me: Oh, yeah? Cool.

Steve: He’s doing the MS150.

And that’s how it started. 

Steve seemed…excited, interested, curious? 

Those of you that know us are probably aware that we did a 10K last fall. Setting up physical challenges is a great way to keep the body moving in middle-age. *nods*

(That would be based on the well known use-it-or-lose-it theory of aging.)

Usually I’m the one that drives these little goals, so I was a tad surprised at Steve’s apparent enthusiasm. However.

Biking is exercise. Exercise is good. Go, Steve!

A little more back and forth. I continued to offer encouragement. 

Which seemed to go nowhere? I nudged.

Steve balked. 

It appeared he did not want to do the ride without me.

I balked. 

My talents do not include grace, coordination, or the slightest affinity for anything remotely mechanical. Indeed, some days, the ability to balance for long periods on my own two feet can be a challenge. 

Still, he seemed so interested….

More discussion. Steve refused, simply refused, to leave me behind and ride on his own.

Marriages are a serious of compromises. Give and take. I can recognize a fait accompli when I see one.  

I girded my loins.

We bought bikes. 

Now, like most couples who’ve been together for some time, we are excellent communicators.

Just not with each other.

Our first ride quickly indicated my fears of cycling ineptitude were not imagined.

Me: I…am really not sure I am going to be able to do this.

Steve: What? 

Me: There is no way I can do this.

Steve: I thought you wanted to do this ride? 

Me: I’m only doing it because you seemed so interested.

Steve: I’m only doing it because you seemed so interested!

Me: Me? Are you crazy?

Steve: I was trying to be supportive!

I will spare you the latter part of the conversation. 😜

Yep. Brian’s fault. Totally.




Donations:

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/Cheryl_Masraum

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/Steve_Masraum

Hello

Steve has been a champ as far as fundraising for this upcoming MS150 ride. My contribution to that all important endeavor has been…sadly lacking. 

With that in mind, I offer you amazingly generous donors a peek into our cycling journey.

I feel I should add a disclaimer. 

It’s a tale of mild hysteria. 

I will try and keep the profanity to a minimum. 

No promises. 




Donations:

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/Cheryl_Masraum

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/Steve_Masraum

Thank you,