I am, as I have mentioned a time or two, an increasingly famous blogger. To tell the truth (and I always tell, the truth, for I am famous in part because of my forthrightness), sometimes this fame can be wearying. For example, when people begin spreading insidious, often hurtful rumors about me, I sometimes ask myself, “Fat Cyclist (I always refer to myself as ‘Fat Cyclist,’ even in my most private thoughts), is it all worth it? Are the vast quantities of money, the public adoration, the high-profile speaking engagements, and free yogurt samples sent via FedEx really worth the contemptible falsehoods my jealous enemies propogate?”
“I don’t know, Fat Cyclist,” I answer to myself. “Sometimes, it does seem too heavy a burden to bear.”
“Pish-posh, Fat Cyclist!” my third self bracingly answers to my other two selves, in an English accent (for some unknown reason). “Do not let the naysayers, the snide liars, the riff-raff, nor, in short, anyone else who disagrees with you, bring you down!”
“Did you just use six commas in that sentence?” my first self asks my third self, astounded.
“Yes! And later I shall split an infinitive!” my third self answers. “But no matter! The point which I am so emphatically making is that you should not allow yourself to be defeated by these rumours! Rather, you should expose them for what they are—lies!—and refute them with vigor and vim! Pip pip!”
“Okay, but after that we’re going to find a good psychiatrist, OK, Fat Cyclist?” asks my reasonable second self.
Rumor 1: The Fat Cyclist is Actually Bob Roll
I acknowledge the eerie similarities between Bob Roll and myself: we either have been or are overweight. We both love cycling. We both occupy the very small “funny cycling guy” niche. We are both courted nonstop by cycling publications and television programming, due to our widespread name recognition and popular appeal. I offer, however, the following tautology which I believe proves conclusively that I am not Bob Roll:
1. Bob Roll has sat beside Al Trautwig.
2. Al Trautwig is still alive.
I am not Bob Roll.
Rumor 2: The Fat Cyclist is Not Really All That Fat
Many people have tried to discredit me by asserting that I am not all that fat. To which I respond, “Am too.”
To which these petty obstructionists counter, “Are not.”
So let me make it perfectly clear, this one last time:
- I weigh more than I want to.
- I weigh more than I should if I am going to be a successful endurance racer.
- I really like calling myself “Fat Cyclist,” in part because it inoculates me against defeat. When people outride me, where’s the glory in being faster than a fat cyclist? But when I can outride someone—hey, it happens—it doubles my glory and their humiliation.
Rumor 3: The Fat Cyclist is Not Writing Very Often Right Now Because He Has Run Out of Things To Say
No, I’m just trying to close down my old job, sell my house, start a new job, buy a new house, and otherwise relocate. Hey, at least this time the wife doesn’t have cancer, and the twins are out of diapers. This is easy!
Rumor 4: The Fat Cyclist Blog is Now Outsourced to a Blog-Writing Vendor Based in India
That is laughable. I would never outsource my blog to India. Especially when I can get a much better deal at one of those blog sweatshops they’ve got set up in the Philippines.
Rumor 5: The Fat Cyclist Has Not Weighed Himself in More Than Three Weeks and Has Now Reached a Point Where He is Terrified of What He Might Find
OK, I admit I haven’t weighed myself in a while because the scale’s in a box in the garage somewhere, and I’m only occasionally getting out on a ride. But I don’t think I’m gaining any weight. On an unrelated note, though, I need to buy a new clothes drier. The current one seems to be running too hot and is shrinking all my clothes.