When can you call yourself a cyclist?
“When can I call myself a cyclist? …and when do I start shaving my legs?”
A friend asked me this the other day.
He’s a runner, and just got himself a road bike. We live 2000 miles apart, but we pledged to get together to do the Triple Bypass ride in Colorado next summer. 120 miles and 10,000 feet in climbing over three mountain passes. That should keep us going on the trainer over the winter.
The legs thing was a joke, but it implied that there’s some rule. And I think we all feel it when starting out, that we’re not yet part of The Club.
So what is it that makes you a cyclist? An expensive bike? lots of lycra? a 30 mile ride? a century? An endo? Road rash? Near death by angry motorist? 19mph average? a Strava account?
There are people who put their own judgment criteria on a question like this. But so what.
If you’re driving a car, you’re a motorist.
If you put on running shoes and go for a loop, you’re a runner.
If you walk across the street, you’re a pedestrian.
If you watch a football game, you’re a spectator.
If you jump on a bike, you’re a cyclist.
There are fast ones, slow ones, timid, and bold, kind ones and jerks. But if you get on a bike and enjoy it, you’re a cyclist.
I’m in The Club, and officially, you’re in. Congratulations. Your card is in the mail.
Don’t let someone else’s elitist attitude or douchebaggery keep you from getting out there with others, having fun, getting in shape, or even competing.
Or keep you from shaving your legs. (Don’t knock it until you try it guys.)