Traveling and training
As you, internet, may know, I’m in Chicago until Wednesday for a trade show. A trade show, with company, consists of the following:
1. Go to exhibit hall at 10 a.m.
2. Stand around and answer questions.
3. Leave at 5 p.m.
Those are the basics. Other companies may engage in “networking” or “socializing”, but my boss and I are staying at the super-classy Chinatown hotel, so none of that for us. The downside of no “networking” (which is business-person code for “drinking on a company card”) is that I don’t get to, um, drink beer on a company card. However, the upside is that I can attempt to ride a bike.
I return late on Wednesday night. Saturday is the Saco Crit. Sunday is the Portsmouth crit (arguably the most important race for my team and my home race). Ted King (from the internet and the EUROPEAN PROFESSIONAL PELETON (don’t click on that link unless you’re prepared for a sudden insane amount of Ted)) as well as all the standard fat dudes will be there. Having Ted at the crit is going to make it like when a hot chick shows up at the basketball court – everyone starts playing real hard, trying to sink insane threes and throwing elbows. Which will probably not work out too well for me, considering that I will have spent about 35 hours standing in the previous week and a half.
So, to combat this and hopefully not go into a weekend of speed, I got a one-week membership at Xsport Fitness, a fantastic gym (which you should totally join if there’s one near you) that has exercise bikes and spin classes.
I could have probably borrowed Josh Austin’s 54cm Ritchey Break Away, but I didn’t want to deal with the hassle of bringing an entire wardrobe of cycling clothes and equipment, or the hassle of not being able to turn as my size 50 feet would certainly be spending a lot of time in the front spokes.
So I opted for spin classes. Booyah. I like spin classes, they’re fun, and there are mirrors everywhere so I can look at myself. However, it’s been a while since I did one, and I forgot (and was unaware) of a few things:
1. People in Chicago have clearly never seen anyone in cycling clothing in a gym. Every time I walk from the locker room to the spinning studio, everyone looks at me like I’m wearing a tutu. Granted, I may not be wearing the most subtle of team kits, but c’mon. Surely you must know that cyclists dress like fashion deprived lycra fetishists.
2. I sweat like a motherfucker in a spin class. The floor beneath me looks like a baby just unloaded his bladder on it. Even though I have one or two towels, there’s nothing I can do about the river of sweat flowing off my body. My jersey is a soaking rag in a matter of minutes and the dirty looks continue.
3. I did not pack enough cycling clothing and I cannot find a laundromat. I didn’t think I’d be going to two spin classes (on a few occasions) in one day. So I only brought three team kits. At which point you should be saying “ewwwww….”, because that means I’m living “Freshman on a collegiate cycling team who only has one pair of shorts” style. I have tried washing them in the shower with soap, but that only made them smell like a drunken Irishman sweated out his night’s beer consumption in the mixing vats at the Irish Spring facility. And as far as the laundromat is concerned…I’m staying in Chinatown. Last year I was aggressively offered crack on a few occasions. Not too stoked about adventuring to find a laundromat. My balls have not rotted off (yet).
4. Exercise bikes suck. Have you ever tried getting an exercise bike to approximate your road bike. It’s impossible. Plus i can’t stand more than 30 minutes on one of those things.
5. Spin classes are a great workout. My average heart rate is usually at fast Exter ride levels.
6. Attractive girls in the class motivate me to ride harder. When the instructor says “Add some resistance unless it’s really killing you,” if I’m surrounded by 40 year old dudes…I’m less inclined to move that dial. If there’s a hot chick next to me, you BET I’m cranking that puppy up, even if my quads are ripping through my skin. Because, obviously seeing a guy add more resistance during a spin class leads directly to blowing him. It’d probably be a good idea for a gym to plant hot chicks in their spin classes to further motivate the male population.
7. If I get my ass kicked at Portsmouth, I will still blame it on this business trip. I love a good excuse.
If I had a hot girl next to me, I used to loosely spin my hand around the dial, so that it looked like I was cranking the tension, without actually doing anything at all.
sneaky, eh?
Ryan, have you ever thought about quitting your job and becoming a writer? Less trade shows, more doing whatever the hell you want–like spin classes–and getting paid to sit around and write about it…
Crank it. You’re going to kill it this weekend.
You’re still a giant gay
you are a funny motherf*cker
i agree with gray
Also, concur with Gray and Cakes.
Guess who’s gay and writes exit17.net blog?
Good job, friends. Glad we’re all still as mature as we were six years ago.
Just trying to be as mature as you. You big gay.