bike rides and valentine's day

I saw the guy move from that same table to another across the room as soon as its prior occupants vacated it, and still I didn’t get it. I made a bee line for that precious table at Cafe Fixe; prime, coveted real estate in the sparsely furnished cafe. I put down my Americano, opened my notebook, and took a backseat to the argument unfolding between ex-s at the table in front of me.
I can only imagine the importance attached to an issue that will instigate near-shouting matches involving spitting out the phrase, “it was only a fucking kiss, i didn’t do anything else with him, okay?!” in the middle of a very quiet coffee shop while everyone else sort of stiffened their necks to keep from turning and staring. And while I’ve been guilty of the same crime of fighting in public, that certainly didn’t keep me from passing judgment. But come on, I mean, I was literally 3 feet away from them! How could I not?!
Ah, love. So complicated. And to complicate things even more, there’s Valentine’s Day coming up. Yup, that’s Monday. And no, I’m not implying anyone forgot about it.
But just in case you did, or you just haven’t found that perfect gift yet, or you haven’t decided what to heavily hint at wanting, or you just want to know what I would get for myself because I am philosophically opposed to the celebration of Valentine’s Day but am not opposed to buying myself things, here’s a list, compiled with my bike and a ride in mind:
Rapha Women’s Winter Collar

Yeah, I have the black one. But assuming that I would be content with one color would be like implying that I could live the rest of my life painting my nails the same shade of red. Not possible. Besides, it’s pink. And as most of my gear is in the exciting shade of black, a splash of feminine color is always welcome. These collars can keep you hot [literally], and should be on everyone’s must have list. Unless, of course, you live in California or you have somehow managed to pink out your bike, kit, shoes, iphone cover, and helmet and have consequently turned yourself in the personification of Valentine’s Day in flux. In which case, please do not buy this product.
Chomper Body Muscle Butter

Mr. G + D had a jar of this goodness a few months ago and after rides would slather it on his legs. And I would start breathing deeply. Panting, almost. Not to accentuate my chest [although I can use help in that department, too] but because it smelled so good. Like a walking peppermint. My mouth is actually sort of watering thinking about it. And no offense to Mr. G + D, but it’s the idea of minty yumminess massaged into my legs post-ride, combined with heart-shaped boxes of chocolates that’s getting my juices going. It doesn’t prickle like embrocation, either, so even with this stuff on your legs, you’re free to pursue whatever activities are in store, post-ride.
Skins Women's Travel & Recovery Long Tights

Sent via Josh, who suggested that I might want to “look good in the bedroom,” [see the second bullet point] once I saw how sexy these are, I couldn’t say no. I mean, what kind of male cyclist would NOT be turned on by the image of me squeezed into these amazing compression tights? Just try to ignore the fact that those tights are on a male model. Sexy, right? Additional points for the brand name which is what we call condoms back in Japan.
But, okay, fine. These are way sexier.
Rapha Women’s Wind Jacket

To complete the outfit. In white, because it’s not entirely opaque and therefore completely appropriate as a seduction tool. And because anything with that “R” logo will get my cycling-and-style-obsessed boyfriend’s intensely focused attention faster than a really nice [bare] rack ever could.
And there you have it. The female cyclist's dream Valentine's Day. Just remember, even if you don't exchange presents on Monday, if you want to make a female bike nerd happy, going on that ride is still mandatory.

riding obstacles

Remember when I was entertaining the idea of actually trying to race my San Jose? In a cyclocross race when I can barely run?
Yeah, that was funny. Especially because at this point, how heavy I can make my bike has become a personal challenge for me. I am piling on the pounds, yo. In fact, I’m tempted to lose 5 pounds so I can just put that back onto my bike.
But back to cyclocross, which I seem to still be chasing, despite the fact that the season ended sometime in December. I’m not careening down trails or going off-road and jumping over logs, but I climbed over enough obstacles both on and off my bike this weekend that it felt like cyclocross was right around the corner. I almost felt like I could be good at it too [except for that whole “learning how to run” thing].

Because when you’re riding in NYC, it involves a little more than rolling out of your apartment and heading southwest for however long you feel like. So, a quick recap:
9.20 - Wake up. Gauge how much I want coffee.
9.40 - Watch Mike make an Americano. Debate what I want for breakfast [this ended up being 2 slices of Ezekiel bread with almond butter and an apple].
9.45 - “You want to go on a ride, right? Where do you want to go? Wait, you want to go, right?”
10.05 - Slather on the [Chomper Body] Ballocks because why would Mike have any of their awesome women’s specific Booty Balm?
10.15 - Check the weather. Stare at my Underarmour leggings. Ask about 4 times if I should wear them “just in case.”

10.40 - Think I’m ready. Forgot to pack any food. Cut up a Larabar.
11.00 - Finally ready to leave. My bike is not. My pedals get changed.

11.15 - Headed out. Bikes are wheeled out into the hallway; we’re both in socks, holding our shoes Sidis.
11.20 - With a bike over my shoulder, awkwardly bang my way down the narrow stairwell. Put on shoes at the bottom and finally leave the building

11.40 - On our way to Central Park. Nearly get killed by two taxis and almost run over a few pedestrians. Still getting used to clipping in and out after a whole winter in toe clips.
12.00 - Laps in the park. That one hill that is not a huge deal feels like a mountain when shifting gears isn’t an option. It sort of sucks but I somehow manage to climb that motherfucker without dying. I’m notified that I make weird grunting noises.
2.14 - Headed out of the park. Decide to take the West Side Highway back.

2.30 - Ahhhh. What a view.
2.35 - Get stuck behind some hippies on bikes. The sweaty Lycra smell that I associate with cyclists is replaced by the distinctive scent of patchouli. Yum?
3.05 - Home. Done. Reconfirm that the Dover ride is way easier to actually get to.
3.10 - Climb six flights of stairs with shoes on this time, plus the bike on my shoulder. Push away thoughts of luxuries like elevators.

4.00 - Devour that Moroccan Chicken Salad that I’ve been thinking about for the past month from Atlas Cafe. YUM.
Riding a bike in NYC: not for the faint of heart or those who just sort of like it. If you want to do more than 10 miles, get ready to dodge stuff and climb stairs. Kinda like cyclocross...but without the dirt.