Pretty in pink, sexy 'rider' is unbelievable, unattainable
Friday, June 17
I grabbed my office mail out of my mail box to find a fitness magazine with a fit and fabulous biker babe on the cover. She is adorable in pink spandex, flaunting her taut stomach, perky butt, and lean legs. Later that day, my dear friend and colleague popped in to let me know he left me the magazine for inspiration as he knows I’m training for the 50 mile BBC ride.
I was not inspired. I cannot relate to an idealized woman who is young enough to my daughter, has obviously never given birth, and whose photograph has most certainly been enhanced by Photoshop. I eschew glamour and fitness magazines for the sole reason that the media present images of women that are unattainable. Rather than making women feel good about themselves for who they are, these magazines leave most women feeling inadequate and discouraged.
These magazines are using sex to sell goods and services, and apparently it works. Inside the magazine, the six-page spread has her standing on her tippy toes in almost every picture holding succulent pieces of fruit against her lips. One shot has our bouncy model lying prone across the top of her standing bike with her upper back cradled by the handle bars and her perkiness pointing unnaturally upward. How she manages this position, I just don’t know.
A real biker woman wouldn’t be caught dead in that sort of pose. For the record, real biker women can be lean and athletic or soft and flabby. They are all ages and sizes. Real biker women sweat and, when riding hard, usually smell bad. They are determined, goal-oriented and strong-willed. I see these kinds of women every time I ride in Boulder, and their example encourages me to push to the next level.
On my bike commute home in the later afternoon, I did an internal check to make sure I was not unduly influenced by those unattainable magazine images. I hung my bike in the garage, did a quick armpit smell test, and knew for sure that I was a real biker woman.
Monday, June 20
On Saturday, still processing the unattainable magazine images, I rode my Bianchi around town on an easy 15-mile ride and took notice at how bikers look at each other. In particular, I was struck by how the men seem to check out the women. Later I reflected on this with a couple of men biker friends.
“I’m not looking at the woman. The first thing I’m looking at is the build of the bike. Then I check out the components and the type of bike. I then look at the rider’s legs and notice their breathing.” Basically, my friend Clint Talbott is telling me that he’s highly competitive and wants to know how he ranks relative to other riders. I’ll take him at his word, but it sure doesn’t feel like those guys are looking at my make and model. Of my bike, that is.
Wednesday, June 22
Today was Bike to Work Day. Since I planned to stop at the Boulder Farmer’s Market later that evening, I took my Cruiser with the basket and the bell. I rode to work on the Boulder Creek path, one of the most scenic rides in the country. The Boulder Creek path is popular and busy during summer months. During the morning and evening it is commuter rush hour on the path and you must be cautious. My bike bell is a huge convenience, as I do not have to call out “passing on your left” every time I pass an ambling tourist, encounter a group of people walking four abreast, or happen upon a pet guardian who lets her dog wander across the path. I highly recommend making eye contact with folks who walk or bike on the wrong side of the path—clearly alien visitors unfamiliar with the convention of staying to the right. Nevertheless, if you ride the Boulder Creek path enough, you will have close encounters, some of them scary. The worst for me are the little kids who dart from out of nowhere into your path.
I gave blood that afternoon. Bonfils Blood Center sets up a donation center on campus every few months. One of the perks of giving blood is that you get a quick blood pressure and hematocrit test. I am a moderate exerciser, but I have been doing it more consistently since I started training. My blood pressure check was the best it has ever been, and my hematocrit level rivals Lance’s.
In spite of drinking unlimited juice and snacks after donating blood, I was not feeling tip-top for the ride home. I took it slow and easy, which is the best way to ride one of the most beautiful paths in the country. My veggies from the Farmer’s Market bounced around in my front basket as I rang my bike bell all the way home. It was a good day.
"Spandex Sucks" is the pen name of a woman training for the 50-mile ride in the Elevations Buffalo Bicycle Classic, which raises funds for scholarships. The event includes distances of 14, 35, 50, 70 and 100 miles. To learn more about the Sept. 11 event or to register, click here.
I grabbed my office mail out of my mail box to find a fitness magazine with a fit and fabulous biker babe on the cover. She is adorable in pink spandex, flaunting her taut stomach, perky butt, and lean legs. Later that day, my dear friend and colleague popped in to let me know he left me the magazine for inspiration as he knows I’m training for the 50 mile BBC ride.
I was not inspired. I cannot relate to an idealized woman who is young enough to my daughter, has obviously never given birth, and whose photograph has most certainly been enhanced by Photoshop. I eschew glamour and fitness magazines for the sole reason that the media present images of women that are unattainable. Rather than making women feel good about themselves for who they are, these magazines leave most women feeling inadequate and discouraged.
These magazines are using sex to sell goods and services, and apparently it works. Inside the magazine, the six-page spread has her standing on her tippy toes in almost every picture holding succulent pieces of fruit against her lips. One shot has our bouncy model lying prone across the top of her standing bike with her upper back cradled by the handle bars and her perkiness pointing unnaturally upward. How she manages this position, I just don’t know.
A real biker woman wouldn’t be caught dead in that sort of pose. For the record, real biker women can be lean and athletic or soft and flabby. They are all ages and sizes. Real biker women sweat and, when riding hard, usually smell bad. They are determined, goal-oriented and strong-willed. I see these kinds of women every time I ride in Boulder, and their example encourages me to push to the next level.
On my bike commute home in the later afternoon, I did an internal check to make sure I was not unduly influenced by those unattainable magazine images. I hung my bike in the garage, did a quick armpit smell test, and knew for sure that I was a real biker woman.
Monday, June 20
On Saturday, still processing the unattainable magazine images, I rode my Bianchi around town on an easy 15-mile ride and took notice at how bikers look at each other. In particular, I was struck by how the men seem to check out the women. Later I reflected on this with a couple of men biker friends.
“I’m not looking at the woman. The first thing I’m looking at is the build of the bike. Then I check out the components and the type of bike. I then look at the rider’s legs and notice their breathing.” Basically, my friend Clint Talbott is telling me that he’s highly competitive and wants to know how he ranks relative to other riders. I’ll take him at his word, but it sure doesn’t feel like those guys are looking at my make and model. Of my bike, that is.
Wednesday, June 22
Today was Bike to Work Day. Since I planned to stop at the Boulder Farmer’s Market later that evening, I took my Cruiser with the basket and the bell. I rode to work on the Boulder Creek path, one of the most scenic rides in the country. The Boulder Creek path is popular and busy during summer months. During the morning and evening it is commuter rush hour on the path and you must be cautious. My bike bell is a huge convenience, as I do not have to call out “passing on your left” every time I pass an ambling tourist, encounter a group of people walking four abreast, or happen upon a pet guardian who lets her dog wander across the path. I highly recommend making eye contact with folks who walk or bike on the wrong side of the path—clearly alien visitors unfamiliar with the convention of staying to the right. Nevertheless, if you ride the Boulder Creek path enough, you will have close encounters, some of them scary. The worst for me are the little kids who dart from out of nowhere into your path.
I gave blood that afternoon. Bonfils Blood Center sets up a donation center on campus every few months. One of the perks of giving blood is that you get a quick blood pressure and hematocrit test. I am a moderate exerciser, but I have been doing it more consistently since I started training. My blood pressure check was the best it has ever been, and my hematocrit level rivals Lance’s.
In spite of drinking unlimited juice and snacks after donating blood, I was not feeling tip-top for the ride home. I took it slow and easy, which is the best way to ride one of the most beautiful paths in the country. My veggies from the Farmer’s Market bounced around in my front basket as I rang my bike bell all the way home. It was a good day.
"Spandex Sucks" is the pen name of a woman training for the 50-mile ride in the Elevations Buffalo Bicycle Classic, which raises funds for scholarships. The event includes distances of 14, 35, 50, 70 and 100 miles. To learn more about the Sept. 11 event or to register, click here.