I didn’t ask to be the poster child or spokesperson for larger cyclists, and certainly I am not. But, a tweet not too long ago got under my skin. It was not the tweet itself nor what had been written, but rather the contents of an article in Bicycling Magazine describing a heavier-than-average cyclist’s experience after posting online about an accomplishment and the commentary he received. Let’s just say, it brought out a lot of feelings for me because I identified with the man Selene Yeager was writing about (see here for the article).
On occasion, I have shared some of the weight issues I’ve dealt with throughout life (see here for a post about my personal struggles over a lifetime of trying to lose weight, or here for a post about going through a long stretch of doing “everything right” and still not losing, and/or here for a post about my frustration with the cycling clothing industry… and there have been others). I know what it’s like to be larger-than-average and to be very active. I also know the commentary that comes from others when doing things like cycling, running, working out at the gym, or any other physically-demanding activity when one is deemed above average in size. People are not kind. People can be downright and unnecessarily cruel. And, people can be very judgy/distrustful when it comes to believing what a larger human says s/he is doing. Even having Strava, Garmin or other GPS records doesn’t seem to dissuade people from thinking an activity has been manufactured.
A few weeks ago I was on the phone with my mother. We were chatting about various things, but she brought up that she’d been losing weight for no apparent reason. While she didn’t think it was concerning, her doctor did and she was undergoing tests to find out what was causing the unexplained losses. During the conversation, things suddenly shifted to me when she proclaimed, “I don’t know why you don’t lose weight. With all the activity you do, you should be skinny!”
I sigh even writing it, despite this taking place several weeks ago. This is one of my frustrations with humanity. Most assume the only way a person can be/remain large is 1) s/he does no activity, or 2) if the person does regularly participate in activities that they must eat enormous amounts of fatty, bad-for-the-body foods.
My response to my mom was, “Really? You don’t know why? I do. It’s called genetics.” My mother laughed it off, thinking that I was being snarky (which, I suppose I was, because of all people she should understand), but it is my reality. It doesn’t matter if I eat nothing and put in 4+ hours a day of riding, working out, etc. I don’t lose weight. While it can be entirely frustrating, and I have had days when I cry about it because it’s hard to wrap my brain around the thought that I can work hard and not see physical results, I have accepted that my body is doing what it thinks it needs to do to survive. It also means that I have to accept my body as it is and know that there will always be comments from others who simply don’t understand because they have never lived my experience.
I’ve been a bit obsessed over recent months with making sure each of my bikes is perfectly set up the way I want. This has resulted in many test rides to figure out what is and isn’t right on each of them, comparing the way they feel to each other and how I feel overall while riding them. It hasn’t been as easy as I thought it would, especially because I have to take into account the days when I’m just not feeling that “into” riding and the seemingly constant changes in weather and wind.
One day over a weekend, Sam decided to come along with me on a ride because I’d been claiming to have great difficulty getting up speed and I wanted to make sense of it. I knew if he was with me, I’d ride faster (because I have to in order to keep up when we’re not attached to each other riding the tandem) and I really wanted his feedback in regard to what he could see just observing.
I had a short-ish route planned that was long enough to actually test things out, but short enough to not exhaust me while pushing. I wanted some flats to actually get speed and some short climbs mixed in so that he could see what happens on the uphill portions as well.
We were moving along at a semi-decent pace, but the winds were blowing toward us and I was having difficulty breathing due to allergies/asthma (and of course the face mask that we wear just about everywhere these days). We hit the base of one of my least favorite short hills and I prepared for the push. About half way up, I was panting because, well, this is just how climbs are for me, especially if I’m actually trying. About 3/4 of the way up, a cyclist traveling in the downhill direction on the opposite side yelled out to me, “You’re almost to the top!” in the most condescending tone I can possibly imagine.
I was livid. Since I couldn’t speak (due to aforementioned panting/pushing), I threw up my middle finger as high as I could as I heard Sam laughing hysterically behind me.
As I caught my breath at the top of the hill, I replied to Sam, “It isn’t funny. I’m entirely sick of people making assumptions and I am no longer tolerating it. If I can’t get out words to yell something back to them, they’re gettin’ the finger. There’s not going to be anymore ‘being nice’ just because it’s what everyone expects.”
Perhaps it seems as though my response was a bit of an over-reaction, but after years of these types of moments, I have grown far beyond weary of the comments from other people when I’m riding. Everything from “Keep going” to “Just keep at it and you’ll get better (and/or lose weight),” to “Good job” and so on. There is so much assumption that takes place and some seem to think that I need their “encouragement” in order to do something I’m already doing and have been doing for many years. Just because I’m breathing harder or traveling slower than another person does not mean anything other than I’m moving slower and breathing harder. People ride at different paces, for different reasons, and to assume that their commentary is something I need in order to keep going is ludicrous. Sometimes I ride for speed and to push myself, sometimes I’m just riding to ride, but in either case, no one should feel it necessary to offer up their unsolicited thoughts on what or how I’m doing what I’m doing. My thinking is, if you wouldn’t say it to my stereotypical-cyclist-body-counterpart, why are you saying it to me?
A few days prior to this incident, I was riding alone and came up to a four-way-stop intersection with a signal. I was traveling up a mild incline and preparing to make a right hand turn as I approached the stop. My light was green, but was just turning yellow so I was internally debating whether to stop or roll through since I wasn’t traveling very swiftly at that moment. As I looked to the left, I could see another cyclist approaching her red light. I decided at the last second to roll through, thinking that it made more sense than stopping, but I was barely moving at that point.
As I rounded the corner, the cyclist that I had seen to my left was coming up behind me. I was trying to pick up speed so as to not slow her down (though others are always welcome to pass), but it was taking me a few seconds to get up to speed. The woman on the bike made a snarky comment to me and went around, but then was slowing down as I was picking up speed. As we climbed the short hill in front of us, I was gaining on her quickly (which was an odd experience in itself because I don’t generally pass people when climbing). I just didn’t quite understand why she went around me instead of giving a couple of seconds to allow me to get up to speed. I know that I try not to do this to others. If I’m approaching and they’re just trying to get started from a stop, I generally give several seconds for them to get up to speed instead of assuming that I am a faster rider.
So, when I ended up passing her, I couldn’t help but shake my head and question the entire incident. I do know that it was a catalyst to get me to move faster than I’d intended though and before I knew it my recovery ride had turned into a heated internal race. I was determined to not allow this woman to pass me again. About a mile up the road I looked in my mirror and couldn’t see her, which was even more frustrating. Was this one of those times when someone passes me just because I look like I’m going to be slow?
The reality is that I know there is an idea in the cycling world that I will be slow just by looking at me. Yes, if I’m on a sustained, long climb, I will more than likely be slower than most, if not all cyclists, and extra weight will undoubtedly slow a person down (or at least make climbing more challenging). But, most assume that I have just started riding, that I am doing so to lose weight and that I am slow because of my size (Which is false… though I’ll freely admit that gravity, not to mention injuries, does take its toll, especially on my tired days). I’m not going to deny the reality that I often do ride slow, but it doesn’t mean that I am inherently slow just because of my size — nor should it matter to anyone else. “Slow” or “fast” are such subjective ideals anyway when it comes to riding bikes. My fast may be someone else’s slow or vice versa.
There are a lot of fast riders in this area, many of whom race regularly and/or are professionals, so I am quite used to getting passed and am entirely okay with anyone who pedals faster. My issue is not that others are faster, nor that I am sometimes slower and get passed, but rather that there is too much assumption (and a need to make comments to others). As Sam has said to me, “You are stubborn and when you’re angry or annoyed, your will is stronger than other’s muscle. If you are determined to, you can catch and pass just about anyone.”
He’s not wrong. There have been innumerable situations in which someone said the wrong thing and that’s all it took to light a fire. In some sense, I’m at my best when I have a foe (whether real or imagined) to battle. Through that lens, maybe I should be grateful for the comments I receive? Perhaps these are pushing me to give just a little more than I think I can?
The bottom line is that making assumptions about others based on what they look like or the speed at which they are traveling at a random point in time is a terrible idea. Making comments about this to the person is an even worse route to choose — Even if there is a belief that what is being said is somehow helping the other person, it’s probably better to say nothing. Telling someone that what they have accomplished isn’t real or valid because they are bigger than what is considered societally-acceptable, or that the individual has manufactured or embellished what they’ve done is completely ridiculous as well. Tearing someone else down should never be necessary or accepted, and encouraging or adding to this behavior should be called out when it’s observed. And so, I fall back to my prior statement… I implore you, when riding solo, with others in a group, or any time, if you wouldn’t make the comment to a slim-bodied cyclist, please refrain from making it to me or others like me.
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