Bike Snob - Anonymous [13]
Because of this, we all seek respite from the pain of existence. And those of us who choose to remain plugged into the grid (like me—I feel a life without TV and indoor toilets is one not worth living) have various ways of doing so. Just a few socially acceptable escapes from the drudgery of life many of us indulge in include: reading books; watching movies and television; consuming intoxicants; investing ourselves emotionally and financially in sports teams; gluing rhinestones onto our denim vests while listening to Hall & Oates (I know I’m not the only one); and obsessing over the mundane details of celebrities’ lives.
But there are also longer-lasting and more rewarding ways to transcend the pain of human existence. Things like books and art can be transcendent, but they can also be a distraction. Which is not to say that distraction is a bad thing. I consume a steady diet of entertainment like any sensible American, but it’s the rare movie or story or picture or song that can actually pass the time and be enjoyable and fulfill a spiritual need and teach you about life—not to mention get you across town and whip your ass into shape. Cyclists escape the pain and drudgery of being alive by doing something we love to do, but we can also integrate that thing neatly and practically into our everyday lives. I can use cycling to get to work. (I can even use cycling for work if I’m a delivery person, or a pro racer, or a pedicab driver or something.) I can use it to run errands. I can use it for fitness. I can use it for competition, and I can use it for recreation. Cycling can be as practical or as frivolous as you want it to be. It’s a way of life.
Of course, there are plenty of recreational activities that are also considered ways of life by the dedicated people who like to do them, but I can’t think of any that can be as useful as cycling to boot. For example, surfing is both a recreational activity and a way of life, but you can’t really commute to work on a surfboard. And even if you do live in a bungalow and teach a surfing class a few hundred yards down the beach and you can technically surf to work, you certainly can’t stop by the store on the way home and pick up some groceries.
Cyclists aren’t just hobbyists or lifestyle athletes; in many ways we’re actually a different type of being. We’re people with wheels. Really, in a lot of ways being a cyclist is like being a vampire. First of all, both cyclists and vampires are cultural outcasts with cult followings who clumsily walk the line between cool and dorky. Secondly, both cyclists and vampires resemble normal humans, but they also lead secret double lives, have supernatural powers, and aren’t governed by the same rules as the rest of humanity—though cycling doesn’t come with the drawbacks of vampirism. Cyclists can ride day or night, we can consume all the garlic we want, and very few of us are afflicted with bloodlust or driven by a relentless urge to kill. Here’s what I mean:
Cyclists Lead Secret Double Lives
Many cyclists assume an alternate identity on a regular basis which is wholly distinct from their professional, familial, or social lives. The non-cyclist may have no idea his mild-mannered coworker is actually the fastest guy in town who wins elite-level bike races regularly. You don’t have to be a bike racer to experience this, either. You might be a cyclo-tourist, or a mountain biker, or just a dedicated commuter. But thanks to your secret double life you know what it means to