Why We Ride
It’s interesting to see how people attempt to extend competition to nearly all levels of society. I’ve known competitive hikers (whoever gets to the end of the trail first wins nothing), seen grown men cheat at Cub Scout Pine Wood Derby competitions, watched beauty pagents and even a few of those absurd dog shows. For some, it’s all about competition. I’m superior to you, and you’re inferior to me. The unspoken but obvious conclusion in the mind of the so-called winner.
This weekend, I got my first taste of competitive cycling while participating in a group bike ride called Ride Into Spring that was sponsored by a local bike shop, RB’s Cyclery. RB’s is a high end bike shop that caters to yuppies with high amounts of discretionary income and testosterone. You can get all the latest and unnecessary carbon fiber widgets like $500 pedals for your not fully equipped $3500 bike, jerseys, sports supplements and other gizmos all designed to make you faster, stronger and supposedly look cooler in the eyes of people that care about such things.
One of the first things you notice at these venues is the all the bike watchers. People check out your bike and often seem more interested in your bike than you. Their eyes move over the frame during a quick carbon inventory, then drift down to the derailleurs and crank and back up to the seat post (looking for more carbon). It’s slightly unnerving, especially if you don’t get the seemingly all important “Nice bike!” imprimatur and realize you have been regulated to proletarian status.
I see cycling as a very real solution to reducing automobile traffic and therefore reducing noise, air pollution and the profits of fat-cat oil cartels. Group rides like Ride Into Spring don’t fit into this equation. Ninety-five percent of the riders drove cars to get to the shop, which is located on the north side in one of the most overdeveloped, shopping retail areas in the city. Many of the riders were dressed in team outfits and were apparently seasoned racers, folks that do “warm up” rides for seventy mile group rides. I only met one or two other commuters.
After the “ride” (really a race), there were door prizes given away, mostly unnecessary gear and nutritional supplements. Products like “Sportlegs,” a supplement that provides nutrients otherewise easily obtainable by eating a healthy diet. Companies like Sports Specialties, the company that produces Sportlegs, use a fossil fuel intensive process to manufacture, package, promote and ship a product that supposedly fills the gaps in the packaged and engineered diet of the average American.
And in my plastic, fossil fuel produced “swag bag,” I received a tube of “eGel,” a slimy nasty looking energy gel. My flavor was Cherry Bomb. The ingredients list was packed full of chemicals that not only did I have no idea what they were, I had no idea how to pronounce them. The Cherry Bomb eGel is brought to you by a company called Crank Sports, something I find ironic since crank is what inner-city kids call methamphetamine. According to the label, eGel can replace electrolytes lost through athletic performance, but as I examined the package, it seemed better suited for former East German swimmers, Russian weightlifters, professional wrestlers, shamed Olympic sprinter Ben Johnson and current chemical king Barry Bonds.
Lets think about this whole scenario for a moment. I’m going to drive my car to a place to ride my bike in a race. To race, I need at least an entry level racer, that starts at $1200 but to get the “you’re one of us” nods, I’ll probably need to spend $2000. Then, in order to compete successfully against these people, I probably need to train 100 miles per week or more and use chemically enhanced supplements.
Then, wasted and full of energy gel, I’m going to put my bike back on my car and drive home, burning more fossil fuel and doing my own little part to heat up the planet.
Sounds really stupid to me, and I was stupid enough to do it once.
I’m starting to ride my bike to work everyday, a 22 mile round trip, and use my commute as a way to stay fit. According to the “experts,” that gives me more than the recommended 100 miles or seven hours in the saddle weekly, and it makes good use of my time in the morning commute. I don’t need eGel to do it, and I don’t need a $2000 bike to do it. And I don’t give a shit if anyone thinks my bike is just “okay.”
Do we really need all this macho-man competition? Does it really mean anything that you finished ahead of 65 other cyclists in a seventy mile race? I suppose some folks get their jollies through such endeavors but not me. I prefer my morning commute and knowing I’m doing maybe one small thing that helps support life on the planet.
This morning I made my way through shaded side streets and enjoyed perfect biking temps in the high 50′s. There was hardly any car traffic as I wizzed through the city with my computer and lunch safely tucked away in my backpack. Didn’t have to stop for gas, and I did’t need any eGel to help me up several hills along the way. And I never thought I would say this, but I actually love my commute.