G and the 3Bs
Last Saturday I rode Goldilocks, a women only noncompetitive bike ride, for the third consecutive year. I guess you could say I’m a regular porridge pounder.
While this ride was just as cute and empowering as ever, there were some minute changes this time on my end, specifically with my end, that weren’t so adorable.
This year I discarded all dignity and donned a pair of biking shorts, something that I swore for good reasons I would never do. And it gets worse folks. As bad as the average awfully-unattractive spandex leggings may be, the particular high-tech shorts I bought are far uglier. Not only do they revealingly stick to each unsightly body ripple but they also have seat padding that is almost an inch thick. Great. Extra stuffing: just what someone like me who has a hinny large enough to give J. Lo a run for her money needs. I looked completely grotesque in my biker’s getup but at least those stretchy constrictors were quite comfy and did make my rear ache less. I guess if beauty is pain then ugliness should feel pretty good. By the way, it may be too late at this point to warn you to avert your eyes from this post’s pictures if you easily grow queasy at the site of spandexed butt fat but consider you and your innocent children tipped off anyway.
It was in this shamelessly attired manner that I biked Goldilocks with my friend Liz, one of the ladies that joined me last year. We again opted to do the meager 20 mile ride, which you hardcore cyclist will rightly pooh-pooh. But our frailty does have a silver lining. For although we didn’t muster the gumption to pedal clear across the county, we did shave off about half an hour from our previous finish time without even trying. That’s right, we pedaled faster than last year’s models of us. And next time we’re really, really sure we want to do the 40 mile course. I guess that means I will need to get my bike out and start training in the middle of winter. I can’t say that having the glacial winds of winter wick all feeling out of my extremities sounds especially appealing but I am stubborn and stupid so why not.
Goldilocks, the blonde beast, was conquered once again! And in the same fell swoop any sense of dignity I might have had was also squelched. Next year may my posse and I kick 40 miles in the keister even if that means having to exhibit our hideous keisters all across the valley!