A few months ago I dated a bicyclist, which I clearly am not. At some point along the way, though, he decided we should try bicycling together. Called it “a bonding opportunity” or similar.
Now I’m not a huge fan of bikes, especially bikes on roads with traffic. Most especially me on a bike on road with traffic. So heading out on the road with some bigtime cyclist with MULTIPLE OUTFITS was a little indimidating. I met some of the people this guy hangs out with - they’re those crazy people you see on Lake Washington Blvd holding up traffic in colorful spandex and interchangeable-lensed sunglasses.
But I finally gave in. (He did go running with me, after all.) March arrived in full biking outfit gear…and he was not a small person. Trust me in that grimy white spandex with blue and red trim is not the most flattering thing for anyone – let alone a “not small” person. In fact, I think it would be safe to assume that there’s little he could have found that was LESS flattering than a modified wrestling outfit and toe clips.
March-In-Full-Biking-Gear also arrived with a gift: a pair of spandex capris. As in biking capris: complete with a diaper built into the – um – seat. This after I’d told him repeatedly that I didn’t need diaper pants for one little ol’ ride (he called them something different, but we all know that’s what they were). He was determined, though, and even paid for them. (He also thought I needed gloves, an under-the-helmet hat, etc., but I squashed that idea as too commitment-like for comfort).
Take a moment to imagine: Me – on the cheapest hybrid bike you can buy from Gregg’s Greenlake Cycle - looking a lot like an 8-year-old in a baggy shirt, diaper pants, and big glam fashion glasses. Pedaling furiously (and not so efficiently) next to March – a guy in full (and slightly too tight) racing gear…whose bike frame retails for somewhere around $5000. And that’s for the frame only, mind you…not anything else…like wheels or handlebars or other useful parts. Us – Riding off into the Seward Park sunset.
The visual was quite something.
But. Once I got past the acute self-conciousness of bike & outfit, the fear of potholes, and the terror over cars vrrrooming past (which took approximately 10.8 miles: all the way from my house to Seward Park and partway back), I realized something.
Those diaper pants are amazing!
We rode for about an hour and I didn’t squirm at all. Didn’t go numb, and wasn’t in pain.
In short…I’ve drastically cut down on the amount of fun I poke at people in diaper pants. I’m even what you might call an official proponent of them. They seriously make all the difference.
Every day another story -
Sofie
