Essential Non-essentials

accessories

n. pl. ac·ces·so·ries

1. A subordinate or supplementary item
2. Something nonessential but desirable that contributes to an effect or result.



Whatever your hobby may be, it requires some essentials. When I looked at the scale and saw 240lbs and realized I had a second child on the way I knew it was time to get my ass in gear. I didn't want to be that father on the sideline of a school ball game wearing an untucked 3xl shirt with large pit stains. I gave running a shot first. I went to Fleet Feet, got the proper shoes, bought some shorts and a nice running shirt. I woke up the first morning all excited. I got dressed and headed to the sidewalk to stretch. I raised my left leg up and immediately hated it. Something just told me "this is gonna suck". But I kept thinking 3xl. I did my first run/walk. Mainly walk. Every time a car would pass I would duck my head not to be recognized. Let's just say I was fully aware that my stride was not "gazelle-like". I stuck with it for a short time. I even ran in a 5k, once. I actually believe that was the reason I quit. The running shorts are now neatly folded in a drawer and the running shirts are nice in the summer when I mow the grass. You know, they are sweat-wicking. I still wear the running shoes because they look cool with jeans. It was time to return to something more familiar- the bike.

When I decide to purchase something, okay anything, there is not much contemplation. I just show up and do it. When I arrived at the bike shop I was in full purchase mode. Within 45 minutes I had purchased a bike, pedals, shoes,cycling shorts, jersey, helmet, gloves, computer and water bottle. It was like a drive thru. Now these are all essential items. I came home and laid everything out. It looked good, I knew this was the one that would get me to a L instead of 2xl. Over the next few weeks I went on my 5-8 mile rides. By ride #3 I felt like an old pro. But now that I look back I realize that I might as well have been riding with all the store tags on my items. I didn't know shit. But I was exercising. As my passion grew, so did my desire. I was now a monthly receiver of numerous bike magazines. (Magazine subscriptions to your personal hobby are a necessity, right?) These subscriptions are the devil. They are only there to remind you of all the cool shit you don't have, kinda like Playboy. Page after page of new wheels, cycling shorts, helmets, computers, blah blah blah... When my rides began to lengthen so did my ego. I was ready to accessorize.

My first accessory was a cycling bib. I had heard about this amazing cycling apparel company called Rapha from "Douche". You should remember "Douche" from an earlier post. I had never heard of this company, but he told me "they are like the Prada of cycling apparel". Reason # 19 why he is called "Douche". I got online and checked Rapha out. This stuff was amazing, they had it all and it was beautiful. I found the section for cycling bibs, called my mortgage broker, took out a second mortgage and bought them. The day they arrived I ran upstairs and squeezed, yes squeezed them on. I walked into the bathroom and stood in horror. I was wearing a leotard. But they were Prada, sorry, I mean Rapha, so I was cool with it. Now I will say, they are amazing, super comfortable on long distance rides and beautifully made. (Because beauty is important when you are sweating your nuts off in the Memphis heat). As the weight dropped, I loved coming home and removing my jersey and just walking around in my bib. On days I felt really good, I would pull the shoulder straps down. It drove my wife nuts. Nuts like in a 'commit me to Bolivar' sort of way. My relationship with Rapha grew as did my credit card balance. You see, one jersey is not enough. You have to have 3-4. But then you also have to have 2-3 long sleeve for the winter and they even make one just for the summer. You see where I'm going with this. I could have gone a cheaper route, but then I would be compromising myself and my riding. That was the excuse I used at least.

My next upgrade was for my personal safety. A new helmet. Okay, I'll be honest, it wasn't for safety. It was for the fact that my first helmet looked as though I had a giant portobello mushroom on head. It most definitely had all the safety features as the new one, but it wasn't sleek enough.

Once I began to ride in the group rides I came across a common theme amongst the fast riders. They all had upgraded wheel sets. These guys were always up front. It had to be the wheels. Never could it be that they had been riding for years and all weighed 150lbs and had 5% body fat. I was convinced it was what I was lacking. Now this purchase I actually contemplated. Not to weigh the options of what wheels to by, only how to hide the price of what they cost. I bought the wheels and was immediately blown away. Not by the performance gain, but by how sweet my bike looked. I cruised to the first group ride with immense confidence. These babies were going to take me to the next level. The ride began and I spent the next hour mid pack, just where I always was. Performance gain 0, ride sweetness 1.

Now I don't want to bash on accessories. There are a lot of items out there they can make your ride faster and more comfortable. But it was one day a year ago that I saw something I think about still to this day. As I was climbing the last hill on our group ride, completely gassed, I looked at the rider infront of me. He was climbing as easily as a mountain goat. I looked down and saw his shoes. They were Teva's, fucking Teva's. He didn't even have on $28 dollar socks.

It was at that precise moment that I realized that the best accessories would be my heart and mind. If I could have the best of those two items, I would be the best rider I could be.

Oh, who the hell am I kidding? I just bought the new mountain bike, it's time to accessorize.