A “Now’s a Good Time to Buy Some Fat Cyclist Stuff” Note from Fatty: From right this second through this Friday, February 6, Twin Six is going to be donating 25% of all purchases of Fat Cyclist gear to LiveStrong.
You’ll be getting some stylishly self-deprectating clothes (or other accessories) and fighting cancer at the same time. Like you’re some kind of multitasking genius or something.
You’ll be both feared and admired by your peers. Because, after all, who doesn’t fear and admire a person who is so devastatingly self-confident that s/he is completely unconcerned about wearing something that says “Fat Cyclist” on it.
Or maybe you’ve wanted to get the wool Trainer, but you’ve been freaked out by how expensive it is. Well, first off, it’s actually below the MSRP, and the manufacturer isn’t all that excited about the price we’ve set. And second, with 25% — that’s $47.50 — of the cost going to LiveStrong to fight cancer, maybe the price doesn’t sting quite so much.
Oh, and there’s one Fat Cyclist item I think you’ll definitely want to pick up. Last year’s armwarmers — black with a white and pink accents — are on sale for $10. That’s way below what Twin Six paid for them. I think they accidentally added an extra zero to the order when they had them made and now just want to get them gone. At this price, you should probably pick up three pair, so as you lose them (armwarmers have an attrition rate similar to socks), you’ll still have plenty.
And while you’re shopping, take a look at the rest of the site. Twin Six is having its big annual Spring Sale, and everything’s marked way down. T-shirts for $16, 2009 jerseys are $45. It’s a good time to stock up on your ride and post-ride clothes for this Spring and Summer.
An Open Letter to the Guy Riding His Bike in the Cold and Wind and Snow and Slush and Rain
Dear Guy I Saw Riding Last Sunday Afternoon,
I think we can agree that we, as cyclists, need to stick together. We need to have each other’s backs, so to speak (although now that I think about it, I don’t think it makes very much sense for cyclists to ever be back-to-back). With that in mind, I think you owe me an apology.
You see, it was a very cold day. And snowy / slushy / rainy. And the roads were wet, trending to icy. No doubt about it, it was clearly not a day to go riding. And so, using the logic for which I am (justly) well-known, I did not go riding. Instead, I went for a nice drive up American Fork Canyon, just to get a sense of when it will be rideable.
The Runner was along for the ride, as we had a couple hours to kill before it would be time to fire up the grill and make burgers, for which I am (again, justly) well-known.
From the heated-seat comfort of the BikeMobile, I commented with authority and machismo, “Well, this road’s unrideable.”
And then you came around the bend. Riding. You looked up, smiled, and waved.
I’m pretty sure that your smile and wave were perfectly friendly, but if it’s OK with you, I’m going to imagine it as being malevolently smug, because that makes it a little bit easier for me to live with myself.
The Runner looked at me and observed, “So there’s a real cyclist.”
I had no response at all. Not then, not now. I’m 40 hours into a state of flummox, with no end in sight.
Imagine, if you can, Guy Riding Last Sunday Afternoon, how puny I felt. How very, very ahsamed. And, above all, how angry.
I’m angry because I now have to adjust my self image, from “steely-gazed, square-jawed, focused and resolved cyclist” to “fair weather pansy rider.” That’s quite an adjustment to make, and not a particularly pleasant one.
Thanks a lot, Guy Riding Last Sunday Afternoon.
And it’s not like this was the first time something like this has happened. There are other people who are like you. People who, in spite of the fact that I find the weather too cloudy / wet-road-y / cool / breezy to go ride, are going out and riding.
This has to end. Right now.
From this point forward, I would like you — and people like you — to please not go riding until I give the signal that it won’t make me feel like less of a man to see you out there. The signal will comprise the following:
- I will post something on my blog saying it’s OK to go outside
- I will emerge from my house, pasty white and fleshy
- I will ride my bike
That time has not yet arrived.
Guy Riding Last Sunday Afternoon, let me close with an appeal. In this world, we all have to accommodate others. Or more specifically, everyone else has to accommodate me. Please, Guy Riding Last Sunday Afternoon, don’t be so selfish. The next time it’s cold and / or ugly outside, think about someone besides yourself (i.e., me), and stay inside.
I think we’ll both be glad you did. Or at least I will, and that’s what really matters.
The Fat Cyclist