Clearly this is a case of endorphin poisoning.
I've heard it happens if one 'trains' too hard. -JimD On Jul 15, 2009, at 11:46 AM, JoelMatthews wrote: > > Well, I have no thoughts about the nut, other than she sounds pretty > nutty. > > But I do have a lot of thoughts about the term 'serious rider' being > used for racing or other competition. In my opinion, if any bicycle > riding is to be considered more serious than any other, it is > commuting and otherwise using the bike as a device to facilitate ones > daily life. > > Serious as I presume it is being used in this situation is defined as: > 'Concerned with important rather than trivial matters, weighty.' 99% > of people riding bikes fast are amateur. No matter how often or fast > they may ride, they are riding for recreational purposes. In short, > they are engaging in frolic. Saying one engaging in recreational > activity is a more 'serious' bike rider than someone who depends on a > bike to get to work, go places to buy food, drink and medicine, attend > to errands, visit friends and relatives, and otherwise engage in life > in a modern society is illogical. > > A person who using a computer to get a high score on Grand Theft Auto > would not be considered 'serious' as opposed to someone using the > computer for work. America's Cup sailors are not more serious than > sailors who carry freight across the globe or defend the water ways in > naval ships. > > I think it is high time we people who use our bikes for general > transit wrest the term 'serious' from recreational riders. Heck, as > discussed elsewhere today, most recreational riders put their bike in > an automobile and drive to the place they chose to engage in their > fun. Far from serious, this is borderline silly. > > On Jul 15, 1:21 pm, Aaron Thomas <aaron.a.tho...@gmail.com> wrote: >> This may be an unconventional "ride report" for the Riv group -- I >> have no photos to share or exotic places to describe -- but I >> think it >> is a story worth telling, if only because it is so bizarre, and I >> wonder if anyone else has had similar experiences on the road or any >> insight into the phenomenon. >> >> Yesterday I went on an urban ride near my apartment, a loop traveled >> by countless cyclists simply because it is one of the few places on >> LA's westside where you can open it up without being detained by too >> many stoplights. The ride starts out with a gradually rising false >> flat, which I treat as a warmup, spinning at a relaxed 18-19 mph. >> >> I came up behind a woman crouched over the aero bars on a time trial >> bike. I maintained a distance of 6 feet or so, waiting for a break in >> the automobile traffic to our left in order to pass her. Before that >> happened, however, she looked back and yelled, "are you out for a >> free >> ride today, mister? Go do your own training ride!" >> >> Perplexed, I asked her to repeat, which she did, this time peppering >> her phrases with a few F-bombs and an injunction to stay away from >> her >> because she doesn't even know me and doesn't want me drafting off >> her. >> >> What? Drafting? Come again? I wasn't drafting, I explain, but rather >> was at least 6 feet behind and waiting for a safe moment to pass. And >> what does it matter if you don't know me? I don't get it. >> >> More insults and F-bombs followed. And at this point she pulled to >> the >> side and waved me by, cussing at me as I passed. Letting her rage get >> the best of me, I lost my cool and returned an F-bomb or two, upping >> the ante with that special C-word women generally don't like to hear. >> >> With adrenaline rushing, I hammered away angrily in order to put a >> healthy distance between myself and someone seemingly so unstable. >> But >> the separation didn't last for long, as we both eventually were >> detained by a stoplight. >> >> As she pulled up behind me I turned around and asked, with the most >> polite voice I could muster, what her problem was and what she >> thought >> I was doing wrong. >> >> Again she unfurled a chain of expletives. But aside from the >> unmistakably unambiguous F-bombs she was dropping, I could not >> entirely understand her rant through her rather thick German accent. >> (For all I know she may have been lacing English and German together >> into a linguistic hodgepodge of insults.) >> >> At one point, however, I was able to make out the following: "I don't >> want to get in an accident because you don't know how to ride a >> bike." >> >> I ask her what makes her think I don't know how to ride a bike. And >> she says, "just look at you, I can tell. And look at your bike. >> It's a >> joke. You are not a serious rider, you can tell from your bike. And I >> don't want to get in a crash because you don't know how to ride a >> bike." And for good measure, she punctuated this assertion with a >> couple variations on the F-bomb. Just how I would cause her to crash >> by riding 6 feet behind her was not clear to me, nor did she succeed >> in explaining whatever rationale she was following. >> >> Now, mind you, neither my attire nor my Romulus are what might >> pass as >> standard Rivendell equipment. I wear lycra bibs, a cycling jersey, >> and >> Sidi road shoes. My bike has skinny tires, Campy Ergo shift >> levers, an >> outboard bearing double crankset, a racy titanium-railed saddle, >> Speedplay pedals, and has no fenders or luggage. To my eyes, it is a >> road bike more than a "country bike," and if I swapped out the frame >> for something carbon, there would be virtually no distinction between >> my equipment and that of your typical club rider. But apparently to >> her eyes, the fact that my frame is lugged steel and has a quill stem >> is indication enough that it isn't a "serious" bike and I am not a >> "serious rider." >> >> I am certainly accustomed to gentle ribbing from the carbon crowd on >> the club rides I go on. But their comments are more often than not >> underhanded compliments, e.g. "if you're keeping up with us on that >> old bucket of bolts, just imagine if you had a full carbon rig!" >> >> But no one could mistake this triathlete's comments for a compliment, >> underhand or otherwise. As I rode away on the green light, adrenaline >> again rushing, a few similar encounters I've had with triathletes >> came >> freshly to mind. None of the previous incidents were so abrasive or >> abusive -- F-bombs were not lobbed. But they were unpleasant >> encounters nonetheless, in which the triathletes went ballistic at >> the >> thought that I might be drafting off them (which I never was in fact >> doing) and commanded me to get away from them immediately. >> >> Is there something in the triathlete's water that makes them so >> patently nutty when it comes to sharing the road? Has anyone else >> experienced some form of triathlete road rage? Are there any >> triathletes on this list who can lend some perspective to what seems >> to me to be utterly inexplicable behavior? >> >> Aaron > > --~--~---------~--~----~------------~-------~--~----~ You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "RBW Owners Bunch" group. 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