Sometimes we become overly attached to our garments. Perhaps an old t-shirt from that trail race back in Aught Seven with the sweet multicolor silkscreen logo… a pair of comfortable shoes that walked with us all over this earth… or our first pair of cycling bibs! We just can’t seem to throw them out and don’t really even want to stop wearing them despite their faded, ripped, stained, holey condition.
It took me a long time to come to cycling bibs. Lycra shorts, sure. They’re comfortable for long spirited rides. Those have been with me for decades. (I like that I can pretty much throw the word decades into any conversation these days…) But as I don’t wear suspenders with my pants—let alone my shorts!—it never quite made sense to use them for my cycling, which is kinda sorta what bibs are, although to a much sexier level—you can tell already I’ve been turned… But one day a trusted riding friend was adamant about their advantages and so I thought I’d give them a try… And they are great. And sexy! But that’s not what this post is about…
We become attached to our things. We like to keep wearing them. They’re cool or comfortable or maybe we don’t want to throw down a hundred bucks to replace them…
Have you ever been riding behind someone, though, and they seem to be wearing one of their old favorite shorts or bibs that have developed a certain amount of thinning of the fabric so that you are more or less just looking at their butt? Mostly just the top half of the buttocks as the chamois pad will always block vision into the lower depths. But there is clearly a cleavage thing happening that in certain angles of light may be more pronounced. I see it pretty frequently. I’ve grown more or less immune to it. I mean, it’s just a butt. And really, a cyclist’s butt at that and so often times a pretty nice butt! If you don’t want to look at it just ride faster…
But. Then there’s also the coffee stops and such. Again, not a big problem if you’re encircled by your riding crew. But if you’re alone or still waiting on the crew’s arrival or at the edge of Le Peloton de Cafe (not really a phrase) and seated next to a non-cyclist, a non-understander of the culture of a crew of old men that find it okay to ride around looking at each other’s butts… well, then, sometimes a certain insecurity arrises. A wondering. Have I worn these bibs too far? Am I offending that family breakfast over there?
So my suggestion to the cycling crew is to be in communication with each other. It’s okay to tell your friend that maybe it’s time to throw down that hundred bucks…
And anyway, a nice fresh pair of bibs feels really great!
