More Advice From a MAMIL

Dear MAMIL,

In my regular “non-cycling” life I like to think I’m a natty dresser. I don’t skimp on my cycling kit, either. And yet I get the sense that when I roll up to the coffee shop for a group ride, the other guys are kind of snickering at me. What am I doing wrong?

John D, Oakland, CA

Dear John,

Right off the bat, I’d guess this is all in your head. Your cycling pals could be snickering about anything, or nothing, or the snickering could be a figment of your imagination. That said, cyclists can be a judgmental lot so let’s proceed with the assumption that they’re actually judging your costume. Starting with your assertion that you don’t skimp on your clothing, I’ll advise that one can spend a lot of money and still look foolish. For example, you could be wearing a WorldTour pro team kit when you’re clearly not on the team, which 41% of a panel of veteran cyclists deemed “laughably Fredtastic” (i.e., demonstrating the tone-deafness of a newb). Or, you could be wearing Rapha in a cycling community like mine where we all shun that brand as overpriced hipster apparel too closely associated with Team Ineos and Chris Froome. Or, you could be underdressed or overdressed, or rocking arm warmers with a sleeveless jersey, or doing something similarly silly. But don’t sweat it. You’ll develop a sense of style on the road just like you have in your non-cycling life. If you’re impatient, go ahead and query your friends (however politely or bluntly you wish, from “Is there something untoward about my choice of apparel?” to “Fuck you starin’ at?!”). Or, consult this article, bearing in mind that “fitting in” is not a fundamental, necessary, or even commendable aspect of the sport.

Dear MAMIL,

I am somewhat new to cycling (in my late thirties) and have lately been doing group rides. A couple times I’ve heard this or that MAMIL talking about “digging deep.” I kind of have a sense for what this must mean, but can you explain it to me?

Virgil S, Louisville, CO

Dear Virgil,

As a former bike racer, I use this term to describe the kind of over-the-top suffering that we racer-types assume can only be achieved by the likes of us; that is, cyclists who have frequently found themselves in do-or-die race situations requiring the kind of massive effort that would frighten a recreational cyclist. Through trial and error we realize that we’re actually capable of more pain than we’d ever thought possible, because it means the difference between glorious victory and heartbreaking defeat. Do this enough times and you begin to think you’re special, and that casual cyclists couldn’t even begin to relate to what you can put yourself through. This is the essence of “digging deep.”

The problem with this expression is that if you use it outside your tight cabal of racer-types, and your audience doesn’t automatically feel included (due, perhaps, to not having raced), he or she or they may catch a whiff of arrogance in this usage. And then—depending on the pool of rapport available and/or the number of beers you’ve all consumed—he or she or they might give you a hard time about this usage, not just in the moment but repeatedly over time, almost as if to taunt you for your superciliousness. As you may have already guessed, this has happened to me with a pal who—though he hasn’t ever raced—recently completed a 400-kilometer ride. I don’t think anyone achieves that without digging deep. So use this term carefully.

Dear MAMIL,

You’ve gotta help me. I’m a teenage girl and the Lycra bike shorts my dad wears are disgusting. They’re so worn out they’re starting to become transparent in places! Some even have holes in the sides! It wouldn’t be such a big deal except he rides an indoor trainer and likes to parade around the house before and after his workout. My brother and I even chipped in and bought him a brand new pair of shorts but he doesn’t wear them, claiming he’s “saving” them for special rides. Would it be ethically wrong for me to “disappear” some of his worst clothing?

Lydia L, Portland, OR

Dear Lydia,

That really is a tough bind! Cycling clothing is notoriously expensive, and the Lycra often wears out before the chamois—so it can be difficult for a cheap bastard to part with them. Fortunately, there’s a modern solution: buy your dad a pair of baggy mountain-bike style shorts. I used to think these were pointless since they don’t have a chamois, but actually, that works in your favor: he can wear his thrashed old disgusting shorts under the baggy ones. A fellow mountain biking coach pointed this out to me … he is stoked to be getting a second life out of all his old road shorts. Give that a try!

Dear MAMIL,

I confess that I am officially a MAMIL, but I’m apparently still something of a “newb” since I’ve “only” been cycling for about five years. As difficult as this sport is, I thought I’d get some respect from the non-cyclists in my life. But instead they seem to cast aspersions. My sister-in-law said I’m at real risk for giving myself a heart attack, and a couple of people have said cycling actually reduces bone density. What’s the deal? Did I choose the wrong sport?

Jeff B, Columbus, OH

Dear Jeff,

I’ve been hearing rumors for well over a decade that too much exercise can damage your heart. Cycling sometimes gets singled out, because you can do it day after day. (Nobody runs back-to-back marathons, but lots of cyclists put in hundreds of miles a week.) I’ve written about this supposed cardiac risk here. The question for your sister-in-law is: if Tour de France type riders—despite making a living at this and being tough as nails—don’t tend to ride themselves to death, how could you? I mean, no offence, but if a recreational cyclist were actually putting himself or herself at risk for cardiac arrest, the pros would be dropping like flies. And would humans actually evolve to have the capability of working themselves to death? Statistically, the greater risk is when a middle-aged person who doesn’t exercise at all suddenly does something really rigorous. When I lived in Colorado we’d hear every year about some guy having a fatal heart attack while shoveling the snow from his driveway.

As for osteoporosis, it is true that very fit people, because they carry less weight on their skeletons, are somewhat more prone to it. Cyclists in particular can be at greater risk because it’s a low-impact sport, lacking the thumping-along of running that can help maintain bone density. Another issue is that you can sweat a ton during a really long ride, which deprives your body of calcium. So yeah, there’s something to this. But obesity is a far more common ailment among the middle-aged, so it’s not like cycling is unhealthy. Just add in some weight training to your regimen, and make sure your diet has plenty of calcium. Also, I once did a quick Google search on “is beer good for bone density” and apparently beer has boron in it, which is good for your bones. I’m not going to research this any deeper because I have the answer I want, and now you do, too.

Dear MAMIL,

What is it with the modern cycling sunglasses? They are so goofy looking! Have all you MAMILs (and MAVISes) lost your minds? Why not a tasteful pair of Ray-Bans or Maui Jims?

Julie D, Miami, FL

Dear Julie,

I agree. It’s hard not to find fault when you compare modern cycling sunglasses to classic styles like the Ray-Bans.

The problem is, as much as we’d like to blame the designers for deliberately making their product “edgy” (i.e., dorky), to some degree this actually form following function. I’m not in love with the looks of my own cycling shades, but they really do well at not letting light leak in from the sides, not fogging up, and being easy to stash in my helmet vents so I don’t drip sweat all over them during a long climb. A couple of times I’ve forgotten to put in my contact lenses before heading out for a ride, and instead of clomping through the house in my cleats I’ve just put on my prescription Ray-Bans, and I’ll tell you, they don’t work nearly as well. So maybe this is a matter of MAMILs choosing to feel marvelous vs. look marvelous.

Dear M. Hamill,

Can you put to rest the rumor that your car accident was a suicide attempt based on your humiliation over having starred in the “Star Wars Holiday Special” on CBS, a program so awful one critic suggested it could have been “written and directed by a sentient bag of cocaine”? I’m sure it was just an accident. And I know that TV special wasn’t your fault either.

Irving M, Irvine, CA

Dear Irving,

I think you’ve got the wrong columnist—I’m a MAMIL, not Mark Hamill. That being said, a quick Wikipedia investigation shows that the car accident happened before the TV special, and this article points out that during filming of the special he was still recovering from the facial injuries sustained in the crash, “under a thick coat of make-up and on heavy painkillers.” (Part of me hates to veer so far off my column's topic, but I don’t like the idea of you carrying around such a blatantly false misconception.)

Dear MAMIL,

Someone wrote in before about whether the real point of Lycra, for men, is showing off their junk. Your answer was totally unsatisfactory—you were clearly prevaricating. What’s the real story? Why can’t you admit feeling sexy is part of biking’s allure?

Kim G, New York City

Dear Kim,

I assure you, MAMILs and even their younger counterparts have no exhibitionist tendencies. In fact, I have seen widespread evidence of teenagers being as modest as possible. When I was growing up in the cycling mecca of Boulder, Colorado, a fad started among those teenagers lucky enough to stand on the podium after a race: they would put on regular shorts (Ocean Pacific brand, usually) over their cycling shorts, for modesty’s sake. After all, to be on the podium is to be right in the public eye. I myself partook of this tradition, but with my own spin: I would roll up the cycling shorts under the regular shorts, to be less nerdy, to buck (part of) the trend, and because I was actually trying to prevent that ridiculous tan line cyclists get. Here I am on the second place tier rocking that look.

I had some influence at that point, but not enough to start a new tradition, as you can see above with the race winner, Pete, sticking with the previous tradition. But later that summer, in the Red Zinger Mini Classic, he’d adopted my rolled-up look and—given his dominance of that 9-day event—had driven 100% adoption in the new style across the podium by the end. You’ll have to take my word for it that he and the second place rider, David, were still wearing their cycling shorts in the photo below. (I didn’t have a second pair of shorts handy this time as I’d ridden to the race, which goes to prove how unnecessary this tradition even was.)

The double-short tradition persisted until the bike clothing industry wised up and started extending the padding in cycling shorts in the name of modesty. Fortunately, this evolution was complete before I hit puberty. ;^)

Dear MAMIL,

What’s the deal with power meters and Strava? Why do we even use these? Sometimes I wonder if I’m just trying to make myself feel bad by scientifically tracking and documenting the decline in my strength. I know you can’t answer for me in particular, and I wish I could, but I can’t other than to say I’m a blind follower of trends. So: why this trend?

Larry M, Atlanta, GA

Dear Larry,

I think I can take a stab at this. Starting with Strava, surely it succeeds for the central reason social media in general does: repeated doses of dopamine through the social traffic of the platform—kudos, comments, etc. There’s also the gamification of it: the KOMs, the PRs, etc. I’m not on Strava myself, but a friend tells me it has age-group-specific leaderboards to encourage ageing athletes.

As far as power meters, to some degree it’s just a cool new toy which fits in naturally with all the tech that cyclists enjoy. Beyond that, I find that—since I’m pretty new to having a power meter—I appreciate how it actually helps me feel better about certain stretches I ride. There’s a particular part of Wildcat Canyon Road that always made me feel weak and worthless because it looks like a fairly steep downhill but actually isn’t; I always felt like I should have been able to go faster through it. Now I see that, though my speed is barely over 20 mph, I’m putting out close to 400 watts, which ain’t too shabby.

The other thing to bear in mind is that those of us who are middle-aged now didn’t have power meters in our prime because they hadn’t been invented yet. So instead of comparing my time up South Park Drive to what I’d done in my 20s or 30s, I’m comparing my power output on it to what I did just last winter. Not such a comedown!

Dear MAMIL,

At the coffee shop this past weekend I overhead a couple of MAMILs talking about “luft.” Apparently it’s to do with cycling caps. I’ve been at this sport for a couple decades but never heard this term before. Care to enlighten me?

Sarah B, Boulder, CO

Dear Sarah,

“Luft” refers to how a cyclist wears his or her cycling cap. It should be worn high on the head, not pulled down tight; the higher up and puffier it is, the more luft it has. Below you can see Miguel Indurain getting it right, and your humble columnist getting it wrong (due to youth and ignorance, I must point out).

Not long after the above photo of me was taken, my brother Geoff schooled me about the proper way to wear a cycling cap. He did not use the term “luft” but he got the point across, and I learned my lesson. To this day I always employ plenty of luft.

Dear MAMIL,

How do you veteran cyclists tolerate having practically no body fat, particularly on your butts? How do you survive and sit comfortably? I’m a regular guy and my butt hurts after pretty much every ride.

H.Z., Princeton, NJ

Dear H,

First off, not all MAMILs have low body fat … only the former racers who somehow tamed their appetites in retirement. It’s the huskier MAMILs that earn us the reputation for being the wrong people to wear Lycra. But even those of us on the skinny side are just fine, because the padding is in the saddle itself, and the shell of the saddle, made either of plastic or carbon fiber, is designed to flex in just the right way. The saddles may look barbaric and torturous because they’re so narrow, but really it’s just your “sit bones” that need to be supported. If there’s pain involved it’s either due to chafing, or the saddle being set too high, or perhaps the rider putting too much weight on his butt and not enough on the pedals. Invest in a nicer saddle and you’ll probably be a lot happier.

I say all this because even at the peak of my fitness I really suffered when I tried too hard a saddle. The modern ones seem to be a step forward. Some even have a big valley down the middle, which is supposed to spare your nether region, though I can’t tell any difference. Such saddles do provide a nice way to stash your sunglasses, though.

Dear MAMIL,

I’m not a biker and have resigned myself to witnessing it (and being baffled) as a bystander. And I’ve always wondered this: why don’t biking gloves have fingers?

Julie D, Santa Fe, NM

Dear Julie,

There are lots of official reasons. Many a cyclist would tell you the gloves are mainly for crash protection, to keep your palms from getting scraped up, without any need to protect the fingers since they tend to curl inward. Or you might hear that the gloves are to pad your hands but the fingers don’t bear any weight, and/or the gloves are fingerless so they’ll be cooler. But I’m going to give you the truth. The number one reason for cycling gloves is that soft fabric, almost like terrycloth, on the back of the glove, between the base of the thumb and the wrist, which is used for wiping the snot from your nose. Other than that, most cyclists wouldn’t wear gloves at all. And cycling gloves are fingerless to facilitate nose picking. I know this is gross but that’s just the way this sport is.

A MAMIL is a syndicated journalist whose advice column, “Ask a MAMIL,” appears in over 0 blogs worldwide.

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Ask a MAMIL

Dear MAMIL,

Why are MAMILs like you, as a group, so hated on? I mean, it’s not like you’re hurting anybody and as we age, non-impact exercise like cycling makes a lot of sense.

Lisa M, Ross, CA

Dear Lisa,

Indeed, “MAMIL” is a largely derogatory term. Fun fact: the Oxford English Dictionary added this word in 2014, defining it as “A middle-aged man who is a keen road cyclist, typically one who rides an expensive bike and wears the type of clothing associated with professional cyclists.”  It doesn’t mention the negative connotation, but then dictionaries seldom do.

I suspect the antipathy relates to the intersection of Lycra, middle-aged-ness, and maleness. So many middle-aged men are shameless about wearing Lycra despite their un-svelte girth. This can create reactions along the lines of “why are you doing this to me?!” from onlookers. The hardcore cyclists with weedy builds are no better … why would we want to accentuate such a physique with form-fitting clothing?

On top of that, cycling is an expensive sport, thus much of the ridicule is based on the showy display of wealth and status by people we don’t actually envy and wouldn’t want to be. On top of this, the very fact that cycling is a virtuous activity can trigger the gag reflex. But I think “MAMIL” is a fairly lighthearted mockery, and of course anyone able to afford this sport, and in good enough health to do it into middle age, ought to be a good sport about it. If you call me “MAMIL” to my face I’ll good-naturedly reply, “Guilty as charged.”

Dear MAMIL,

Let’s just be real for a minute here: isn’t the point of men wearing Lycra to show off their junk?

E.A., Albany, CA

Dear E,

The short answer is no. The slightly longer answer is hell no. The full answer is: I’m not going to discuss genitalia in this column. Nice try.

Dear MAMIL,

How can you justify the horrendous cost of your clothing? I mean, isn’t it like $200 for a single pair of shorts? Wouldn’t that feed a poor village for like a week?

Malcolm D, Oakland, CA

Dear Malcolm,

You can actually spend $400 on a pair of Assos bib shorts. There’s no doubt about it, cycling clothing is atrociously expensive. A relatively upscale Castelli costume (i.e., a pair of bib shorts and a jersey) is, ounce for ounce, more expensive than  MacBook Air, a leather jacket, a pair of Nike Air Jordans, or a pair of Doc Marten boots.

(Take the above AI-generated chart with a grain of salt, as I didn’t hallucination-check it.)

Now, a lot of this cost is basically a luxury tax for an upscale sport. But to some degree the cost is justified, because the fabric, the cut, the design, etc. really do help the clothing perform well. I fully appreciated this one cold January morning when I was getting ready for a race, but hadn’t changed yet, and was freezing my ass off in jeans and a sweatshirt. Once I put on my ABCs (that’s cycling vernacular for “angry biker clothes”), I was immediately more comfortable.

Fortunately, if you scour the Internet (and, depending on where you live, even your local thrift stores) you can find cheaper gear. The high school mountain bike teams in my region get styled out with all kinds of free gear, because MAMILs love to upgrade their wardrobes and donate perfectly good stuff.

Dear MAMIL,

Is there really an article of bike clothing called “bibs”? I was overhearing my teenager talking about his team’s clothing order and I kept hearing “bibs.” I know bikers eat fast, and it’d be a shame to spill on their expensive biking jerseys, but bibs? Really?

Phyllis R, Topeka, KS

Dear Phyllis,

“Bibs” is short for “bib shorts.” These have shoulder straps, kind of like suspenders, instead of an elastic waistband. The vast majority of MAMILs use this type of short. They’ll tell you it’s because bibs are more comfortable, cause less bunching, etc., but in reality it’s a) a mimetic thing (i.e., it’s what the pros wear), b) for the corset effect, and c) to avoid the discomfort of the elastic waistband cutting in to our belly fat.

Middle-age spread aside, I’ve been wearing bibs since I was a teenager. The main reason, originally, was bullying. It was surprisingly common (i.e., almost inevitable) in those days, at least in Boulder, for a rival teen rider to come up behind you, grab the back of your shorts, pull them down, and hook the waistband under your saddle like a super-snuggie. In most cases the perp then grabbed his water bottle and hosed down your butt. Once this started happening, no one I knew ever bought another pair of non-bib shorts.

Dear MAMIL,

It seems like most of your readers ask questions about the Lycra side of MAMIL. What about the middle-aged part? Doesn’t anyone care about that? I’ll start: isn’t cycling a younger person’s game? Why persist at something so physically taxing, not to mention dangerous? At our age, what’s wrong with golf?

Perry L, Sarasota, FL

Dear Perry,

I’ve wondered myself about the preponderance of clothing-related questions. I suspect it’s just harder to articulate inquiries around the inchoate wistfulness that accompanies middle age. In answer to your question—why do I persist?—I think the short answer is because I still can. Ageing alone is hard enough, with the loss of muscle mass, power, and stamina, but psychologically I was dealt an extra blow upon becoming an empty nester. For the past few years, life in general—and cycling in particular—have come to feel like when you get Extended Play during a car race video game. The real work has been done and life is starting to wind down, and it feels like if I pause for too long in my cycling I’ll suddenly discover I can’t do it anymore. So in a way, cycling is more important to me than ever … it’s like one of the few strands left connecting me to my younger life.

As for danger, the risk of injury with cycling is less than soccer, basketball, skiing, snowboarding, and even running and jogging if you factor in overuse injuries. With golf, meanwhile, you run a roughly 100% chance of being a dweeb.

Dear MAMIL,

Not all of my cycling clothing has the same washing instructions. Some tags include crazy decrees like “line dry in the shade.” Can you give some general tips that I could safely apply across all my bike garments?

John L, Ithaca, NY

Dear John,

It can definitely be confusing. Check out this label from a pair of shorts I had (click to enlarge):

Can you believe it? Two sets of conflicting washing instructions on one garment! I think it just goes to show, there aren’t many hard-and-fast rules. But my decades of experience (see how asking a MAMIL has its benefits?) have taught me a few things:

• You can use whatever detergent you want (my wife often makes her own)
• You can (and should) use a stain remover like Shout or Spray ‘n Wash
• There’s no need to wonder about fabric softener because nobody, and I mean nobody, has used this product since my neighbor Mrs. K—back in the ‘70s
• Wash all of your cycling gear (including the socks) on cold, permanent press or “casual” cycle (whatever one step down from “normal” is on your machine)
• Don’t worry about separating darks from lights, that’s a completely mythical rule with zero basis in reality, other than that weird pair of unripe-plum-colored “Thai fisher pants” that my wife bought once that turned everything pink
• Line dry all your bike clothes (except your socks), and yes, it’s okay to dry them in the sun if you want (I mean, think about it, it’s not like we only ride at night!)
• Wash your shorts right-side-out (to protect the chamois), but dry them inside-out (because it’s faster)
• For really fancy shorts like Rapha, hand-wash, and only in bottled water (just kidding—if you have any Rapha clothing,  donate it to the Goodwill and then go buy something less hipster-douche-y)

Dear MAMIL,

This isn’t a big deal or anything, but I’m kind of hung up on why we call so much apparel “Lycra” when it mostly isn’t. If I see “Lycra” on a clothing label at all, it’s usually a pretty small percentage. Can you shed any light on that?

Sean D, Austin, TX

Dear Sean,

Lycra is a brand name for a high-end version of elastane, aka spandex. A number of my cycling garments say “elastane” on the tag, and a few say “Lycra,” and none say “spandex.” (I reckon this is because “spandex” is associated with women’s apparel like swimwear, leotards, dancewear, and ‘80s aerobics wear.) Cycling shorts tend to consist of 20-35% elastane (or Lycra if they’re fancy) and 65-80% nylon. That’s enough Lycra/elastane to give enough stretch, but keeping the nylon content high makes shorts more durable. Jerseys, on the other hand, tend to be mostly (or entirely) polyester, which is a totally different material from elastane (polyester being polyethylene terephthalate, to be precise, vs. elastane which is a polyurethane-based elastomer). But we just call it all “Lycra” because that gets the point across, just like “Kleenex" and “Xerox” do.

In fact, it’s a good thing the term “Lycra” still predominates, because if we always said “elastane” then I’d be a Middle-Aged Man in Elastane, i.e., a “MAMIE,” which sounds like “someone who is maimed.” Though actually, considering how hard this sport is, that kind of fits…

Dear Mammal,

I still breastfeed my 18-month-old and refuse to apologize for it. In countries like Norway this isn’t even considered strange. Why do you suppose so many mothers in my community seem freaked out by this?

Joan L, Burlington, VT

Dear Joan,

I’m sorry, I think you’ve got me confused with another columnist. While I am a mammal (and admittedly prone to occasional mansplaining), I am not equipped to field your question about breastfeeding. I hope you’re able to find the right expert to help, as opposed to a MAMIL which is all I purport to be.

Dear MAMIL,

I’ve noticed that a lot of cycling clothing isn’t so sleek and form-fitting anymore, particularly mountain biking clothing that can be downright baggy. Why don’t more MAMILs sensibly wear that instead of continuing to wear Lycra kit that in many cases puts their extra “padding” on prominent display?

Rob S, Phoenix, AZ

Dear Rob,

At first blush this newer clothing, mainly used for mountain biking, seems like a fine idea, and in many cases totally is, but there are both practical and cultural impediments to replacing Lycra with modern, baggy bike clothing.

If a middle-aged cyclist is fairly new to the sport, isn’t worried about what cultural signals he is sending, and doesn’t need gear that’s high performance, baggywear (to coin a term) is totally fine with just a few minor caveats. One, the baggy mountain-biking shorts don’t always have a chamois, so either you wear traditional Lycra shorts underneath (which means spending more money) or you get a sore butt. Two, if this cyclist is skilled enough to hit really high speeds, the flapping of that jersey could get annoying (and eventually irritate the skin if worn as a single layer). Mountain biking is slower, which is why this clothing works at all. The final caveat is that the mountain biking jerseys often don’t have pockets. This is fine if you use a seat bag, or a Camelbak-style pack, or one of those crazy compartments that some modern bike frames have. But if you do long road rides, you’ll want pockets for your vest, your jacket, your food, etc.

Culturally, baggywear is designed around youth who think Lycra is for, well, MAMILs. When I was head coach of a high school mountain bike team, and leading the big kickoff meeting for prospective new riders, one of the questions I fielded from a new kid was, “Do we have to wear the Lycra?” My answer—that you can wear whatever you want in training, and whatever shorts you want in the races, but you have to wear the team jersey in races—really put this kid at ease, and in fact he went on to do most of the rides in a t-shirt and sweatpants. (This was before baggywear existed.) So, when I see an adult (e.g., a fellow coach) in the baggier stuff, my spidey-sense starts tingling and I wonder if it’s a case of arrested development. If I’m honest, this is probably just sour grapes because the other adult can pull it off better than I could. But if you go down this path, you should be aware that others, particularly youth, may think you’re trying to be cool, which is widely held to be a major gaff, especially when perpetrated by the middle-aged.

A final practical consideration applies if you are both a roadie and a mountain biker. If you want to wear the baggy stuff off-road, but wisely stick to Lycra on the road, you’re talking about doubling the size of your (expensive) wardrobe. My advice? Just stick with the old-school Lycra and own it.

Dear MAMIL,

It’s not like only men ride bikes. Is there any female equivalent for “MAMIL”?

Tina O, New York City

Dear Tina,

I’ve never heard one, and my light research hasn’t unearthed anything in widespread use. ChatGPT suggests MAFIL; Gemini asserts MAWIL and OWL (Older Woman in Lycra); and Copilot purports to have come across WILMA (Woman in Lycra, Middle Aged) and SOMAT  (Slightly Overweight Middle-Aged Totty) though it credits Single Track World magazine which it acknowledges is a very niche publication.

I’m not a fan of any of the above. Let’s see if we can get MAVIS to take off: Middle Aged Vixen in Spandex!

Dear MAMIL,

I once thought I could fight the “MAMIL” stigma by simply not wearing Lycra when cycling, but eventually I got over myself and starting wearing the proper gear. This started with just shorts and jersey but now I’ve discovered arm and leg warmers—what a game-changer! I don’t know why it took me so long to understand their value. Are there other types of cycling apparel I might be missing out on that actually help?

Paul M, San Francisco, CA

Dear Paul,

I eschewed the cycling vest for over thirty years, as I just didn’t see the point. What’s wrong with sleeves, right? Well, now I have seen the light. A cycling vest is a very close fit, which is doable because you don’t have the problem of bunching up around the armpits. The snug fit makes them warmer than a jacket and they don’t flap around at all. Plus, a vest can be made of a relatively stout fabric like Gore Windstopper (typically just on the front panels) and still scrunch up nice and compact in your pocket.

Another amazing accessory is the Lycra skullcap, such as Castelli’s “skully,” which looks like those weird caps astronauts wear under their space helmets. It’s just thin Lycra so it fits really well under a helmet, yet for some reason it does an amazing job keeping your head warm. I’m so fond of this skullcap, I think if it were chilly out and I couldn’t find it, I’d probably just not go.

Dear MAMIL,

A pal told me Castelli makes a product called a “light head thingy” and though I was sure he was pulling my leg, I checked and they actually do! My question is, who wears this thingy, and why?

Bart B, Chapel Hill, NC

Dear Bart,

Who wears it? That’s easy: Thing 1 and Thing 2! And why? Because Thing 1 and Thing 2! (Full disclosure: they actually don’t, which came as a big disappointment to me. Why did I think they did? Because The Cat in the Hat wears one! His happens to have a brim, but look at it: it’s clearly a light head thingy.)

Hey MAMIL,

Why are you people so annoying?

Anonymous, Irvine, CA

Dear Anonymous,

I think you meant to sign off, “Anonymous motorist.” If you were a cyclist, you probably wouldn’t find us annoying. But you live in Irvine, so you are clearly a motorist. Most non-cyclist motorists view the world though a very narrow perspective: that of somebody who is perennially frustrated while behind the wheel, but doesn’t know why. The reason, of course, is that you’re so often stuck in traffic, and instead of thinking, “I’m getting what I deserve,” you’re blaming your situation on others, like other motorists, and on traffic laws, and on red lights, and—especially—on cyclists. We drive you bonkers because we’re actually allowed to just ride right past you, gliding along merrily while you’re there fuming.

Oddly enough, I used to be just like you when in motorist mode. I would be driving my daughter across Berkeley to her ballet class, and running late, and feeling stuck, and just generally being terrorized by the imposed paralysis that is the condition of the urban motorist, and I would be tempted to start lashing out the way you do. In fact, for a brief, senseless moment I once started to criticize the city of Berkeley for all the streets I couldn’t take because they were blocked to cars and labeled “Bicycle Boulevard.” But then it hit me: Berkeley isn’t the problem; I’m the problem! I shouldn’t be driving a car, I should be on my bike! So from then on I made my kid bike to ballet class with me. It went splendidly because Berkeley, wisely deciding it had catered to motorists long enough, has designed its roads to be truly bike-friendly. Wait, don’t go yet! There’s an epilogue to this story: fast-forward a bunch of years, and my daughter is now a young adult and hasn’t bothered to get a driver license. She bikes everywhere, like her old man. Her middle-aged old man in Lycra.

A MAMIL is a syndicated journalist whose advice column, “Ask a MAMIL,” appears in over 0 blogs worldwide.

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Email me here. For a complete index of albertnet posts, click here.

Overlooked Posts of 2024

Introduction

Last year, I enjoyed an article in the New York Times about overlooked stories—those their editors felt didn’t reach as many readers as they should have. Following the Times’ lead, I blogged about overlooked albertnet posts. Did it make a mark? Well, of the twelve 2023 posts I spotlighted (one per month), two subsequently moved from last place to second place, and four moved all the way into first place (i.e., have now reached the  most pageviews of any posts that month). That strikes me as a pretty good response, so I’m going do this again. Below are the 2024 posts that I think deserved more attention from my readers (I’m looking at you, Mom). Like last year, I’ll explain why they deserve your attention.

January

I thought “New Year’s Resignation” was a catchy title since readers’ brains would automatically think “Resolution” when they hit the first syllable of that third word, and then be surprised. If my readers had any such reaction (which I now doubt), it evidently wasn’t enough to get them to click the link; this post has the fewest pageviews of any I ran last January. Perhaps “resignation” is just too negative a word … I’ve received advice that negative words turn people away and we should always use positive ones. But how, then, would we explain the success of the heavy metal band Megadeth?

I feel the Resignation post should have done better. I mean, don’t we all get sick of the swirl around New Year’s Resolutions, and thus shouldn’t readers welcome a suggestion like improving their capacity for resignation? Wouldn’t they be interested in how this behavior, which we’re all trained to feel bad about, can actually be a superpower? Well, to get that message they’d have to actually open the post, duh! I guess it really is all about window dressing. If I decide to do a post this month on the theme of New Year’s Resolutions, I’m going to call it “Make $150K working from home,” or maybe “Megadeth.”

February

The loss leader for February was “Virtual Reality Killer App!” Any reader expecting a well-researched, informative article on VR technology apparently doesn’t know me very well. The more a topic requires actual research, the less I do, and the higher I rev my BS engine. In other words, it should have been obvious that was a humor piece. Doesn’t everyone deserve a good laugh? I guess it’s possible you identified it as a humor piece but didn’t click through because you don’t think I’m funny. If that’s the case, why are you here at all? Shoo! Shoo!

What? You’re still here? You do think I’m funny? Well then click here right away! I won’t say more about that post because there’s a plot twist I’d hate to give away. So go read it now. And then came back here for the rest of this post. Or not. Whatever.

March

If you consider my lowest-performing March post, “The Power of Loafing,” in the context of my earlier “New Year’s Resignation” post, you might conclude I was (and/or am) burned out and just going through the motions of my life, running out the clock. And you’d be right. Er, wrong. Maybe both. Look, this was a useful post in challenging the so-called “grind culture” of “performative workaholism” while introducing a new buzz-phrase that’s sure to take the workplace by storm: “clip out.” Give it a read!

April

I haven’t seen much response to my April post “Can We Unplug Our Kids?” despite it being a serious commentary on an important societal problem. Oh, wait a second … I just realized this is the last sort of thing anyone wants to read, and that moreover reading is the last thing anyone wants to do. I should have posted a video of myself doing a silly dance, or better yet, a video of a really attractive woman doing a sexy dance. In other words I should have just forwarded something from TikTok, like everybody else.

But wouldn’t earnest parents be naturally drawn to this topic? And aren’t parents among the most earnest type of people alive? Maybe parents didn’t read this because they don’t see that I’ve earned the right to pontificate. Don’t they realize I’m a tall male so I automatically have the right? Well, anyway, I do think I’ve earned that right because I raised my kids in a highly unorthodox fashion and reported on the remarkable results. I should have titled this post “Raised By Nutjobs: the Sad Story of a Cell-Phone-Free Childhood!” Or maybe “TikTok Twerk Tease!” or “Megadeth.”

May

Once again, a useful-looking how-to advice post was largely ignored: “Five Home Remodeling Mistakes to Avoid.” Would-be readers may have seen that title and thought, “So what, I’m not contemplating a home remodel anyway,” or “What does this unheralded bookworm cyclist blogger know about remodels that the helpful folks at Home Depot couldn’t tell me?” or “OMG, after my disastrous remodel I can’t bear to think about that topic ever again.” Evidently they weren’t thinking, “Oh, this is obviously another purely BS humor piece along the lines of ‘COVID-19: Helping Teens Cope’ or ‘Plumbing Emergencies for Dummies.’ I’ll bet it’s a scream!”

This post takes five perfectly logical and reasonable rules of thumb and smashes them with a hammer. It is the perfect remedy for the dread that contemplating home improvement can generate. Here’s a teaser so you’ll understand what vein I was shooting up in:

Spring is in the air. Out in their driveways, your neighbors are beating on old Turkish rugs with broomsticks, maybe more enthusiastically than is really necessary. Birds are building nests in your trees, without asking. No matter where you look, spring cleaning and other restoration projects are underway. The warm breeze is whispering in your ear: “Time to start pulling your weight.” Or maybe that’s your spouse, and it’s proceeded from a whisper to plain speech to aggressive beseeching all the way up to a flat-out demand, which has become increasingly hard to ignore. So it’s time to bite the bullet and agree to a home remodel.

In summary, check this post out immediately!

June

I read an article yesterday about how a majority of the movies that Hollywood is working on this year are sequels, prequels, reboots, or remakes, because that’s the kind of crap that gets people into the theaters. The logic of this is not lost on me: I understand that people are lame and don’t like to gamble on new stuff. Thus, when a post does well, I often try to work my way around to a sequel. A post from 2009, “We Have a Winner,” has racked up about 1500 pageviews, and—get this—over 850 of them were in the last year alone. That’s not an albertnet blockbuster but it’s pretty solid. So in June I posted “We Have a Winner! – Part II” and it has done … very poorly.

This post concerns the winner of my second non-annual albertnet Amateur Product Review contest, and recaps the three consumer reviews I featured of various products, with one review each being a fake that I contrived. Then this post provides the correct answer and the winner’s brilliant commentary around how he came to his answer. Give it a read, it’s fun!

July

I am very disappointed with the performance of “What Are Men Extenders?” which concerns a term that (after harrowing Internet research) I traced etymologically to the movie “Barbie.” This post provides a very thorough definition of “men extender” and plumbs the fascinating topic of what products are the quintessential examples. This phrase is utterly useful, as is the examination of what it means to be a man—a man’s man, even—in our modern, enlightened times. This post is my finest on this theme since “The Sissy Syndrome” which I posted back in 2010, and which has been really popular. Read ‘em both!

August

Okay, the loss leader for August, “Ageing Focus – Make Balance a Habit!” is unabashedly earnest, helpful, useful, and understandably has been ignored. It’s really not very amusing and concerns the unpleasant reality of getting old and lame. I guess I could have titled it “Try This Weird Trick That Your Therapist Doesn’t Want You To Know About” or “Too Hot For TikTok!” but that would be a bait-and-switch. Look, there’s some helpful stuff in this post, okay? And if you want the punch line without having to read anything, just scroll down and watch a couple of the 20-second videos shot by my daughter. (In one of them you can hear her yawning, which is probably the highlight of the whole post.) Just do it. Do it for your future self, assuming you don’t want to be falling-and-you-can’t-get-up.

September

All of my posts did pretty well in September, but one had to be the loser, so I’ll draw your attention to “Major League Baseball FAQ – a Guide for Foreigners.” Given that a large percentage of albertnet viewers are overseas, I figured this would be popular (especially given the strong performance of “Super Bowl FAQ – A Guide for Foreigners”). But it hasn’t gone viral or anything (not really, not yet).

You should read it whether you’re foreign or not, whether you’re a baseball maven or a total newb. (My nephew, who played varsity baseball in college, says he learned a couple things.) It’s not because you need this knowledge, but because you need a laugh. Here’s an excerpt to whet your appetite.

Cuba has won more Olympic medals for baseball than any other country but they have never played in the World Series. How can MLB baseball call it the “World” Series?

Because America.

What is the seventh inning stretch?

This is when all the fans in the stadium stand together and stretch, since they’ve been sitting so long on those uncomfortable bleachers.

So it’s like yoga or Tai Chi?

No, just stretching out your arms a bit, and singing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.”

Is it always the same song, across the nation?

No, in Boston they sing “Sweet Caroline” by Neil Diamond.

Why Boston? Why don’t they sing “Sweet Caroline” in North or South Carolina?

Nobody knows. That is to say, I don’t know.

October

It’s not often that the title of an albertnet post includes “Mea Culpa.” In case you’re not fluent in pig Latin, that roughly translates, “Just kill me.” I fell on my sword with this post (schadenfreude, anyone?) based on the myopia of my April loss-leader post, “Can We Unplug Our Kids?” My “Part II: Mea Culpa” post considers the social media conundrum afresh, letting parents somewhat off the hook and examining how the Internet industry is more to blame. I examine in particular how privilege and luck helped my family grapple with social media responsibly. Gosh, any time I tap into liberal guilt I ought to touch a nerve, right? With readers either commiserating or condemning me, possibly both? Well, not this time … people simply ignored it. Do you want to remedy that? Click here! (Note: reading the post will not actually help you save the world. But you might feel smug and/or indignant. Won’t that feel good?)

November

Frankly, November was a great month for albertnet. Its four posts have accumulated over 1,100 page views so far, and the count from those four is still climbing with well over 100 views in the last week. The least number of views is from “Bell’s Seasoning II – The Spawning” with only 180 views so far (38 in the past week). I already mentioned how sequels are supposed to be a slam-dunk, so what’s going on here? I even included “The Spawning” in the title, which strategy seems to have borne fruit in the past (e.g., “Tire Chains II – The Spawning,” “Keep Calm II – The Spawning”). And yet my Bell’s sequel hasn’t yet propelled me to international fame and stardom.

You should read it anyway, because it’s not just about a spice concoction that is the key to Thanksgiving, but also about a dogged blogger who is persistent beyond all reason. It’s almost like a cautionary tale, except there’s no moral (unless I missed it, in which case you could enjoy some first-rate dramatic irony). I know your next turkey dinner is over ten months away, but you should check this post out anyway.

December

Well, I posted only three times last month, and it’s probably not fair to pick on the most recent, lowest-performing post for December because it’s only been up for a week and a half. I’m talking about “A Mysterious Note” which is the strange, true story of a mysterious note, and includes as a bonus the even stranger, also true story of the time I terrorized a junkie during his heroin fix. At least, I think I terrorized him. I can only assume he experienced actual terror (since I’ve never tried heroin myself, obviously). Does any of this make you curious? Good, good. Click on through!

Here’s to 2025!

Thank you for visiting albertnet. I look forward to another year of writing about, well, anything that amuses me, and I hope you look forward to reading it.

Overlooked posts of 2023:

• Jan: Ask a Fitness Dweeb (now up to second most popular of the month)
• Feb: What We Should (and Will) Be Embarrassed By
• Mar: Schooling ChatGPT (also up to second)
• Apr: Errata
• May: More Tom Swifties
• Jun: Impromptu Commencement Address
• Jul: Gravel Riding in the Rockies
• Aug: If William Wordsworth Were Writing Today (now up to first place!)
• Sept: Jumbo-Visma & the Kuss Conundrum
• Oct: Epic Trans Alps Cycling Trip – Part VI (also now first)
• Nov: Undeterred - A Critique of a Book About Life Without Free Will (also now first)
• Dec: Cycling Smackdown – Small Cog Tale (also now first)

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Email me here. For a complete index of albertnet posts, click here.

From the Archives - Bits & Bobs Volume XV

Introduction

This is the fifteenth installment in the “From the Archives – Bits & Bobs” series. Volume I is here, Volume II is here, Volume III is here, Volume IV is here, Volume V is here, Volume VI is here, Volume VII is here, Volume XIII is here, Volume IX is here, Volume X is here, Volume XI is here, Volume XII is here, Volume XIII is here, and Volume XIV is here. (The different volumes have nothing to do with one another and can be read in numerical order, alphabetical order, in order of importance, or by court order.)

What are albertnet bits & bobs? They’re brief passages from letters, emails, essays, shopping lists, or other combinations of letters and words that I saw fit to type at some point. Read these silently to yourself while pointlessly mouthing the words, or read them aloud to your child or pet, or read them at top volume on a city bus. Or do all three! Mix-n-match!

[The below photo has nothing to do with this post, but hey ... happy Halloween!]

August 3, 2006

I have my PC media player set up to cycle through all my music, so I get everything from alternative rock to classical to rap. Right now I’m hearing a blast from the past: “Hunted Child” by the L.A. rapper Ice-T. My roommate C—, aka Dithers, used to sing along, “I’m the honey child!” I for my part liked to sing, “Death row . . . water buffalo.” [The real lyric was “what a brutha know.] Years later, at the bike shop in Berkeley, I continued in that vein, and for a brief time had the nickname “Water Buffalo.”

August 23, 2006

There used to be a sign on the Muni [i.e., local mass transit system] buses that read, “There is no limit to the number of seeing-eye dogs on Muni.” I always wanted to nudge a fellow passenger, glance toward the sign, and say, “No kidding—this bus is teeming with them!” Later the Muni folks changed it to “Any number of seeing-eye dogs are allowed on Muni, free and un-muzzled.” Scarcely better, but did it have to be so wordy? Why not just “Seeing-eye dogs are allowed on Muni,” or, because it’s really the point, “Only seeing-eye dogs are allowed on Muni”? Or perhaps best of all, how about, “If you can read this, get your dog off the bus”?

August 31, 2006

I finally got some Tour de France coverage on tape. It’s pretty cool. They show some dudes’ heart rates in real time! The commentators talked to Floyd Landis’s coach during stage 17, when Floyd made up all that time and put himself in striking range of the overall win. They were talking about stage 16, when Floyd cracked and lost like eight minutes on the last climb. He uses this Power Tap mech in the rear hub that tells him his power output and can be uploaded to the PC after the race. His coach said that during that ill-fated last climb on stage 16, Floyd was putting out 260 watts, which was quite low for him. Well, it so happens that it’s almost exactly what I averaged on the first two passes of La Marmotte this year! (I did 262 watts on the Col du Glandon and 264 on the Col du Télégraphe.) If you don’t factor in rider weight, you could conclude that I could hang with Floyd on his worst day! (Of course, rider weight is everything, and I’m sure my power-to-weight ratio isn’t even close to his.) Every night before bed both girls beg to watch some Tour de France footage. I limit them to five minutes (unless I get too caught up in the action and forget to curtail it).

September 8, 2006

I came across one of those questionnaires that help determine if you’re an alcoholic. Question five was, “Do you suffer from regular alcohol related accidents?” My completely honest and sincere answer is, “Not unless you count peeing on the rim.”

October 18, 2006

I’m so sorry to hear you got dragged to Kentucky Fried Chicken. I hate that “food.” E— and I went to KFC one cold, rainy day in Michigan during our cross-country bike tour, and immediately regretted it, from the first greasy bite onward. Which is weird. I mean, you’d think just about anything would taste good when you’re tired, cold, wet, and lost. I wonder if the ill-fated Donner party could have enjoyed KFC, right there at the end when they’d already eaten their boots and everything. Probably not. Man that stuff is gross.

November 11, 2006

I’m so frustrated with my work PC. The IT folks have locked down the browser to make sure the online experience is as annoying as possible. Every time a website runs a script (which means about half a dozen times per page) a window pops up saying, “Oh NO! Rush the children down to the cellar, put your tray table in the upright locked position, tuck and roll, Simon says cover your head! This website is running a SCRIPT! It’s possible that something TERRIBLE could happen! Do you really want to run this script, or should you just power off your PC and go home?” It’s systematically training you to automatically click “YES” to any dialog box that pops up, guaranteeing that if you ever got a useful dialog with a serious choice, you’d fail to recognize it. Somehow this makes the security people, who are evidently running the company, feel a bit better. Sadists. And whenever you click on a hyperlink or type in information and submit it, you get another dialog box: “You could not possibly have realized this, being an ignorant type with no concept of computer networks (the opposite extreme of us security types), but you are about to send information over the INTERNET! Do you have any idea what you’re doing? Don’t you know that OTHER PEOPLE could SEE this information? People you’ve never met, strangers, some of them psychotics, or the kind of people who don’t even put the toilet seat down? Are you SURE you want to do this? Wouldn’t it be better to go back to the IBM PC and DOS 3.1 and use WordStar? Are you really ready for this Brave New World that has such people in it? Is it really worth it?”

November 13, 2006

Not to worry, DSL [digital subscriber line, an early Internet broadband product] is pretty straightforward to have installed. After you place your order, a guy shows up at your house reeking of cigarette smoke. He might work for your actual provider, or not; he might actually work for the competitor of your actual provider, in which case another guy will come weeks later who will work for your provider, or at least a subcontractor of your provider whom you’ve never heard of. Each guy will come into the house, look in your crawl space, scratch himself a bit, then leave without appearing to have done anything. I guess one guy has one task and another guy who comes later has another task, but it never appears that anybody actually does anything. The first time through I expected to see the telco guy shimmy up the telephone pole across the street, but he must have done that in Ninja clothing the night before.

An any case it really is easy for the consumer, whose entire role is to keep an eye on the telco guy and make sure he’s not casing the house for valuables (see “Ninja clothing” comment above). Sometime before or after the telco guy’s visit, or between the telco guys’ visits, a box comes in the mail containing an install CD and a really cheap looking DSL modem. You follow some illustrated instructions and you plug a bunch of stuff in. Sometimes the DSL is provisioned on your existing phone line, so you have to put these weird filters on all your phone jacks, even ones with no phone plugged into them (if you believe the instructions, which I don’t). This is still pretty straightforward unless you’re also sharing those phone lines with your streaming digital audio system, in which case you have to draw a network diagram, scratch your head a lot, pay extra for a static IP address, and configure that. My current DSL, even though it’s a separate line from my voice line, came with a lot of filters anyway, with specific instructions to do nothing with them except save them in case you decide to switch to Voice Over IP (VOIP). So every so often I have to stop my wife from throwing out the filters, but that’s pretty easy.

I’ve had three different DSL providers, and only the first installation was difficult. My router was configured wrong and it didn’t do a darn thing. I was very distraught until I phoned a colleague and he helped me suss out the problem. The guy who installed it refused to help, and I had no recourse because I had no idea what company he even worked for, nor what he was even doing in my house.

November 29, 2006

At long last, per your previous inquiry, I’ve found a photo of the post-race meal served by the Marmotte race organizers. That shredded white stuff you see in the picture is raw jicama, I think. (Tasting it didn’t help with identification because it tasted like absolutely nothing, except aluminum, which everything tasted like, due to the physical abuse I’d just put my body through.) The dry, lifeless baguette must have been imported from the U.S. (from the Safeway deli, to be precise). I didn’t even know you could get a bad baguette in France. Maybe they have special crappy ones for the Americans. I’d really like to know why the race promoters thought anybody would be excited about this plate. (Full disclosure: there was also a second plate, of mealy penne with a bland tomato sauce, that didn’t warrant a photo. It was nominally edible.)

November 30, 2006

To be honest, I generally take a head-in-the-sand approach to the woes of ageing. I’m aware of a great many ways in which the body begins to wear out (though certainly not even a fraction of the total, nor of the myriad details of such), and I’m aware of many (but certainly not all, nor even most) of the ways in which a healthy lifestyle can delay the inevitable. That said, I’m also aware of the non-physical aspects of ageing: specifically, the emotional and psychological components, the most visible of which is the worry involved. As if the physical discomfort and reduced abilities weren’t bad enough, there’s the ever-growing concern that they’ll get worse, that they’re leading up to something dire. Toward the end of E—’s grandma’s life, I learned the hard way never to ask the open-ended question, “How are you?” This seemed to be an invitation for her to begin an endless litany of complaints and grave portents. I find that one of the great joys of (relative) youth is the illusion that it will last. To begin worrying now, to become vigilant of the pitfalls of this or that poor lifestyle choice, to start getting “Prevention” magazine, etc. would take much of the fun out of still being mostly intact. When I become a geezer one day and have to forego, with a sigh, that third piece of bacon, I want to at least have the pleasure of remembering my thirties, when the only memories I’ll have of limiting my bacon intake are considerations like “is it too hot to burn my fingers?” or “will that leave enough for E— and the kids?” Maybe one day I’ll wish I’d started the fiber and temperance a little earlier, but I’ll also, I’m sure, think back and say, “By god, I lived large as a young man, and I enjoyed it!”

As for whole-wheat pasta, I lump that into that category of foods you should either enjoy in their proper form or skip entirely. This substitutes-to-avoid group includes Hydrox cookies (imitation Oreos that taste bad), turkey bacon (inedible), soy cheese (culinary blasphemy), light beer (urine), grocery store pastries (a waste of fat and a carbuncle on the already ugly face of American food), margarine (proof that man is essentially evil), frozen yogurt (not yogurt, not ice cream, and not good), low-fat ice cream (the only noble justification for suicide I can think of), soy milk (tofu urine), and of course carob (the existence of which means the terrorists have already won). I mean, food ought to be pleasurable, life ought to be pleasurable, and if you’re not a total sloth and/or glutton you ought to be able to enjoy yourself somewhat. Those who do fake workouts (dangling by their wrists over a Stairmaster so their feet can paddle ineffectually around, while they read a frickin’ magazine, for crying out loud) can have their fake foods, and the rest of us—big strong creatures with appetites and a zest for living hard and well—can do whatever produces good results. That’s my take, anyway.

November 30, 2006

Congratulations on Baby M—! She is darling. I can’t tell which of you she looks like. In my experience babies seldom look like their parents, who are, after all, adults.

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Email me here. For a complete index of albertnet posts, click here.

Ageing Focus - Make Balance a Habit!

Introduction

Last week’s post, though perhaps an amusing romp, wasn’t very responsible. I mean, why showcase my bad habits? Whose idea was that, anyway? I hope I didn’t come across as condoning any of those behaviors (though honestly, as odd as they are, you’d have to be some kind of kook to adopt them). This week I hope to provide a whole-grain, high-fiber, wholesome corrective. I’m offering up sincere and helpful advice here and I will try my best to make it amusing somehow.

Some background

My younger daughter is home for the summer and perhaps being around her vivacious youthfulness emphasizes how fricking old I’ve gotten. I guess I’ve reached the age where I worry more about my advancing decrepitude than reveling in whatever vigor I still have left. Sure, I can still make my bike go pretty fast when I dig deep, but I also dread the prospect of, say, my back going out for no good reason. (A buddy of mine, though he is still athletic and does all kinds of yoga, threw out his back putting on a sock.) I contemplate how to preserve my physical faculties over the last few decades of my life.

Strength and heart health are all well and good, but I lately I’m putting more focus on balance. Seventeen years ago I read a fascinating New Yorker article about the role balance plays in graceful ageing, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. The article, by the doctor/professor/writer Atul Gawande, is called “The Way We Age Now.” (My friend P— and I have a running joke about Atul Gawande. P— is a doctor, and I fancy myself a writer, and we complain to each other how Gawande is a better doctor and writer than both of us, and is also better looking; we naturally assume he’s even seduced our wives at some point.) In the article Gawande describes how he tagged along with a Dr. Bludau, a geriatrician, during a routine physical exam of an 85-year-old woman:

It seemed to me that, with just a forty-minute visit, Bludau needed to triage by zeroing in on either the most potentially life-threatening problem (the possible metastasis) or the problem that bothered her the most (the back pain). But this was evidently not what he thought… The danger for her was losing what she had. The single most serious threat she faced was not the lung nodule or the back pain. It was falling. Each year, about three hundred and fifty thousand Americans fall and break a hip. Of those, forty per cent end up in a nursing home, and twenty per cent are never able to walk again. The three primary risk factors for falling are poor balance, taking more than four prescription medications, and muscle weakness. Elderly people without these risk factors have a twelve-per-cent chance of falling in a year. Those with all three risk factors have almost a hundred-per-cent chance.

What is to be done?

How do I address these three risk factors?

1. Being an athlete is a non-negotiable part of my lifestyle, because cycling is a) fun, b) something I have enough experience in that it’d be a shame not to do it, and c) my number-one way to burn off stress. Cycling addresses the strength part of my ageing, to a point. (I know that ideally I should do core exercises, join a gym, do yoga, etc. and I’m trying to muster the resolve to take those things up.)
2. In terms of prescription medications, I’m not sure how feasible it is for any of us to avoid needing them when we’re old. It’s not like we can just resolve to go without. I’m lucky enough to be blessed with low cholesterol, and my blood pressure is decent, and so far I have no risk factors for diabetes, but you just never know what I may need for this or that ailment in my codger years.
3. Balance: this is the area where I think I can make the biggest difference.

How can we improve our balance?

I’d like to think that being a cyclist automatically gives me great balance, and of course it can’t hurt, but I don’t think it’s actually enough. I learned this when I was doing physical therapy after breaking my femur. As we began my regimen, my physical therapist asked me what my goal was for the therapy. As I’ve explained in these pages, I’m not actually that into goals, but this time I had one. “I want to come out of this better than I was before,” I declared. After all, I had a gym to work in and an expert to guide me … why not dream of shoring up some of the classic deficiencies of the pure cyclist?

To start with I had to learn to walk all over again, and realized in the process just how complicated walking is. With every step, the back leg has to swing forward, the knee bent so your foot doesn’t hit the floor, and then you have to plant that foot and swing the other leg forward, and that swinging is more rhythmic when we realize. But because I didn’t trust my bad leg to bend properly, I was kind of swinging it around sideways so I could keep it straight, and thought I was doing pretty well until my physical therapist, laughing, told me to walk toward a mirror and watch myself. I looked like a drunken zombie.

After relearning how to walk, one of the toughest things I did in that gym was a toe-tapping exercise on a fairly unstable platform. It was basically a square plank of wood with a half-cylinder under it (i.e., a half-circle cross section), kind of like a teeter-totter that you stand on. I would start by standing on the plank, balancing so it wouldn’t tip forward or back. Then I’d tip the plank forward until its front edge tapped the floor, and then rock back until the plank was level again, the slower the better. I’d do this ten times, and then I’d switch to rocking back, to tap the back edge of the plank on the floor, return to level, and do that ten times. Once I mastered that with both feet, I learned how to do it standing on just one foot. Oddly, I was no better at this with my good leg than my recently healed one, but in time I went from incompetent to totally proficient, even after adding in a barbell in one hand to put me slightly off balance. I cannot tell you how stoked I was to have learned a new trick that I couldn’t have done before my accident. I actually was better than before.

So now, with Gawande’s article in mind, I want to continue that trajectory of actually improving my balance. The fun way is to ride indoors with my bike on rollers, when it’s too dark and/or wet to ride outdoors. The less fun, but logistically easier, way—and, more importantly, the way I can recommend to you, albertnet reader—is to do the PT balancing trick on a balance saucer. You can buy one of these (one manufacturer’s product name is “Wobble Balance Board”) for about $20. This is even harder that what I did in physical therapy.

The regimen

The great thing about the balance saucer is that you can do your whole routine in 5-10 minutes. (I suppose this duration will vary as you become more proficient, and based on how much you want to do.) My current regimen consists of the following exercises, in sets of 10 repetitions each:

• Standing on both feet, tap the front edge of the saucer on the floor
• Standing on both feet, tap the rear edge
• Standing on one foot, tap the front edge
• Standing on one foot, tap the rear edge
• Standing on both feet, tap the right edge
• Standing on both feet, tap the left edge

I hold a barbell in one hand, and after the first five reps I pass it to the other hand. If I feel like it, I pump the barbell in the air for extra exercise and instability. (I plan to figure out other cool things to do on this saucer, maybe even incorporating my upper body.)

Since a picture is worth a thousand words, and five movies totaling two minutes at 60 frames per second is therefore worth about 7.5 million words, here are videos showing the exercises:

(Video credit to my daughter, expertly wielding her superfly non-phone camera.)

Don’t be surprised if it takes a while to get good at this. When I started up again (over a decade after my physical therapy days), I was pretty wobbly and struggled for a while.

Make it a habit

Did you notice in that video that I wasn’t in a fancy studio with mirrors and mats, wearing PrAna yoga pants and fancy workout shoes and headphones and a fitness tracker? All you need for this is the saucer and a pair of shoes with good, grippy soles. With worn-out or loose-fitting shoes, I have a lot of trouble, and if I try to do this barefoot my feet slide off. But other than that, no special gear or preparation is required, not even a warm-up. That said, this activity is oddly strenuous given how low-impact (actually, zero-impact) it is. During winter, when I’m working from home and stuck at my desk with my blood congealing, almost like suspended animation, I like to take a break and do my balance regimen to get my blood flowing. It really warms me up.

Making this a habit is key. Initially you’ll need plenty of repetition to develop the balance needed for these exercises, and then you’ll want to maintain that consistency so that five, ten, and twenty years from now you won’t have lost the ability. It’s kind of interesting to ponder how well we could maintain this, if we do it daily … can you imagine having this kind of balance at 80? Assuming we don’t, at least we’d be declining from a pretty decent height of capability. I think that’s well worth pursuing.

Postscript

A few more notes, as I have used this thing for a couple years now:

Make sure your shoes are not only grippy enough not to slide, but are completely dry before doing your balance regimen. I started in on my routine once, months ago, when my shoes were a bit wet (though I thought I had wiped them enough on the mat). My saucer squirted out from under me and I fell, wanging my wrist. Not all saucers have the same anti-slip texture; my brother has one (from the same manufacturer as mine, but newer) that is much grippier. I will probably buy some of that sandpapery-textured tape you put on stairs and add it to my saucer. So be careful!

Not all these saucers have the same depth, so get one that is appropriate for your balance level (which may have a lot to do with your age). I recently tried my mom’s saucer and it’s far shallower than mine, which makes the exercises vastly easier (too easy in my case, but probably much better for, say, an octogenarian). Mine is four inches deep; I have seen three-inch versions and even 1.5-inch versions available online.

This article (also available in a schlockier form here if you get blocked by a paywall) suggests that a good measure of your body’s effective age is how long you can stand on one leg, especially your non-dominant one. The doctor who wrote the article cites Mayo Clinic research and concludes (as paraphrased by ChatGPT), “While balance tests offer a simple method to gauge physical aging, incorporating balance training into regular exercise routines is crucial for sustaining overall health and mobility.” Running the calculation cited in the article, I have determined that a typical person my age ought to be able to stand on his or her non-dominant leg for about 22 seconds. That seemed way low to me, so I tried it out. I stood on my left leg for a couple of minutes, no problem, and then I started to get bored so I passed the time by doing the Wordle, then added stickers to my Wordle snapshot before sending it to my daughter, and finally, after over eight minutes on one foot, I was really bored and my leg and foot were starting to hurt so I bagged it. Needless to say, this balance regimen really works!

Another postscript

More recently I came across an article suggesting that a good balance challenge is to tie your shoe while standing on one foot. This capability is said to bode well for preserving balance into old age. I didn’t find this much of a challenge, and decided that tying my shoe while standing on the balance saucer would be a better trick. It is, and now I’ve incorporated it into my saucer regimen. Check it out:

If you perceive that the above video ran a bit long—i.e., that it took me longer than necessary to tie my shoe—it’s because of the role vision plays in balancing. As it turns out, where we look has everything to do with balance. If you close your eyes while on the saucer it’s almost impossible to do the taps, etc. described in this post. And I’ve found that looking at my shoe while balancing on the saucer totally messes me up. Something about locating ourselves in space is instrumental to balance. Only if I look out into the room can I tie my shoe while on the saucer.

Give it a shot and let me know how it goes!

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