The hidden costs of being a cyclist
I’ve found that the quantity of laundry I do is far higher than that of my non-cyclist roommates. I’m easily going to the laundromat once a week with a very full hamper, while those lazy bastards are going every other week (if that) with a hamper that is not overflowing with sweat-soaked spandex.
I even try to cut down on my laundry production by wearing the same shirt for four days, and going three weeks before I wash my jeans. Some may call that lazy, disgusting, and worth of burning incense – I call it trying to save money. Also, I have to drag my laundry four blocks in a baby carrier attached to a singlespeed townie. So I am far more aware of the added weight of additional dirty shirts.
As I was putting yet another twenty bucks on my laundry card, I started thinking about the hidden costs of being a cyclist.
We all know cycling is an expensive sport to begin with. Even if you’re a recreational road rider, you’re gonna spend at least $700 for a road bike at a respectable shop. A pair of running shoes is like $100. A basketball is about $20. So yeah, from the get go, this shit is expensive. Then there’s races, cycling clothing, GU packs and all that other crap. But there are some other hidden costs that you might not have noticed.
1. Laundry. I sort of just covered this. But think about it – if you’re riding six days a week (and you don’t enjoy smelling like BO at all times, and you don’t enjoy crotch infections), you’re going to create six dirty jerseys and six dirty pairs of shorts, along with probably six dirty pairs of socks. So at a minimum, you’re creating six whole dirty outfits.
Lets say you also do three days with double sessions…that’s another three sets of dirty clothing. And if you’re riding in the winter…well, now you’re totally fucked. I try to get a few rides out of my tights leg warmers, long sleeve jerseys, vests, jackets, hats and booties. But in a given week, my dirty laundry pile has a sand covered collection of three long-sleeve jerseys, two jackets, a pair of tights, a pair of leg warmers, two pairs of knee warmers, and a handful of baselayers. Plus thick socks, booties, a hat and probably some gloves.
So, in the winter (AKA right now), my weekly laundry load has 32 cycling-specific dirty items. That’s not counting socks. And I have size 15 feet, so the socks are a significant contributor to the laundry load.
Now you can have more or less, depending on how much you ride (or how much you enjoy smelling like the bottom of a gym bag), but you’re still going to have a shit ton more stuff to wash than a non-cyclist.
2. Coffee. Everyone drinks coffee. Most people are fine with a cup of Folgers or a regular from Dunkin Donuts. But cyclists are different, because we have to be snobby about anything we can possibly be snobby about. We even go so far as to create rides that specifically center around gourmet coffee shops.
At home, a tin of Shaw’s coffee isn’t good enough. We need a $100 burr grinder, a french press and coffee coming from a plant whose leaves were massaged every morning by a beautiful Columbian peasant girl. AND SO HELP ME GOD IF ANYTHING NON-ORGANIC TOUCHED THOSE LEAVES, FOR I WILL RAIN FIRE AND BRIMSTONE UPON ALL OF YOU.
We also probably purchase it with a side of carbon credits to offset the transport of the Norwegian glacial water we use to brew it with.
3. Pastry. Again. Everyone loves pastry. But not everyone is willing to walk into Sweet Dreams Bakery, point at the display cabinet and say “I WILL TAKE ALL OF THAT. IN MY BELLY.”
Coffee cake isn’t cheap! Nor is a chocolate mousse cake with a side of whole cream. I mean, after a 100 mile ride (or, in some cases, a 20 mile ride), you need to replenish calories.
4. Movie purchases. The trainer is mind numbingly boring. The rollers are mind numbingly boring. The only way I’ve found I can suffer through anything more than an hour on either is a good flick.
As a result, my movie collection contains such treasures as all three Austin Powers movies, some It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, the Die Hard Trilogy and a random collection of road/cyclocross videos (Hey, Sam Smith, FRIGGIN MAKE A NEW MOVIE).
5. Internet access devices. I don’t know how the world, let alone cyclists, functioned before the internet. Bikereg. Cyclingnews. Twitter. Facebook. And, of course, blogs. Keeping up on my internet presence has become a second job – blog readers and rss and web 2.0 and gigs and ram and nasdaq.
So, as a result, I’ve got to have myself a fancy computer. And a fancy internet phone, so I can tweet all my training rides and post training poops. Without these items…how am I going to be a contributing member of the cycling internet community?
AND THUS CONCLUDES THIS INTERNET BLOGGING BLOGGY.
And I turn to you, internet – any other hidden costs?
how about the general increase in food a cyclist eats while in season? most other people diet and ration during the warm weather months while we obnoxiously scarf down everything on the table. after doing our 3rd load of laundry for the week of course.
gasoline… because using in the most eco-friendly form of transportation on earth somehow became codependent with 8 hour van rides.
Ebay listing fees.
Thanks for throwing my gel wrapper away at NoHo, Roses.
yeah don’t even consider racing. it seems to be the equivalent of driving around just throwing money out the windows. License, entry fees, bikereg fee, oh and the pair of wheels that some how manage to get fucked every season.
dude, tag. After “1. Laundry”
Also, it’s a heinous time investment. I can make money, or I can ride my bike. Not both.
you left out razors, bandages, and electricity for the hypoxic tent
I think the insane quantity of food consumed is pretty much an obvious cost. Unless you’re REALLY serious about being a cyclist…in which case you consume LESS food during race season.
Because you want to be a model, or you’re 6′3″ and you want to be able to climb alongside Toby Marzot.