Tuesday, July 14, 2009

can't we just play polo...

I have noticed in my occasional forays into fitness that there's a whole other language of the purposefully active that I just don't speak. 
This evening, Tim the Trainer and I met for a session at the Golden Gate Park Polo Fields. One of the many barriers I have about exercising is doing it in public. I'm not really wild about strolling couples gawking at me as I crank out sit-ups or being passed by a 83 year old as I jog around the track. Tim, on the other hand, doesn't really give a shit and has no problem offering pleasantries to strangers, a practice I find abhorrent whilst publicly sweating. 
Anyway, we were "jogging" around the track when a group of cyclists in their full, Euro-regalia came whizzing by. "On your right!"
Yeah, Livestrong. I got it.
They'd passed us 6 or 7 times. 
And in addition to the highly annoying, "On your right!" they'd scream code at each other. I can't even tell you what it was and certainly not what it meant. It was cyclist slang, the code of the spandex, the language of the mini-visor
On lap 2 or 3 (I've blocked out the pain), the leader of the pack as it were screamed, "Hey guys! It'd be better if you better if you were on the right! We can't see you coming around that turn!"
"Okay, thanks!" Tim hollered back. 
Whoosh. They all whizzed past us in a blur. 
"Fuck you, Lance Armstrong." I sighed, pushing sweaty hair out of my face as we moved to the right side of the track.
Tim walked ahead. "Well, it's kinda good to know. He could've been a lot ruder about that."
Um, whose side are you on? 
Tim's right, of course. I think I have a natural hatred for those that break a sweat with a smile on their face, tweeting about their marathon time and dropping what an awesome workout they enjoyed at 5am, like they're talking about a latte or really great morning sex. 
I am wildly jealous of those people. And since I will never be one of them, I must hate them with every fiber of my being. 
Do I feel better post 75 sit-ups? Begrudgingly, yes. Am I looking forward to Tim kicking my ass again on Thursday? Fuck no. And if anyone screams "On your right!" at me then, well, I seem to recall some mad boxing skills...

3 comments:

Brock said...

Sounds horrifying! He's a brute! One must perform neither sit- nor pull-up at "salon des bon mots."

Anonymous said...

According to the NY Times you could snap them like a twig!!

"In his study, the bone density of 32 male, competitive bike riders, most in their late 20s and early 30s, was compared to that of age-matched controls, men who were active but not competitive athletes. Bone scans showed that almost all of the cyclists had significantly less bone density in the spine than the control group. Some of the racers, young men in their 20s, had osteopenia in their spines, a medical condition only one step below full-blown osteoporosis. “To find guys in their twenties with osteopenia was surprising and pretty disturbing,” Smathers says.

Another recent study, this one published last year, had similar results. It followed competitive cyclists over the course of a race season in Colorado. The riders, aged 27 to 44, began with slightly below-average bone density. By the conclusion of the race season, they had lost a significant portion of their total, already-low bone mass in their hips, though not in their spines. At a three-month follow-up exam, however, they showed a small amount of bone recovery in the hips.

sfmike said...

I think you should take up polo myself. The Spots with a mallet on top of a stallion would be a formidable sight.