As a female biker, I’m regularly confronted with a selection of women-specific bike clothing offered only in various shades of pink, blue, and purple and covered with patterns of flowers, swirls, and butterflies. I wish I was kidding, but I’m not. Bike companies even make their women’s bikes in pretty colors with “girly” details. I find it appalling; if it were possible, I would join a professional team whose colors were black and black with black accents. Maybe some white sprinkled in, but only in a tasteful way that would not cause a grown man to break out in hives if asked to wear.
As a female biker, however, I receive prizes at races that are intended to appeal to females. I got some truly awesome prizes last season (gift certificates! money!) and then some that could be filed under the Oh How Very Pink category. The thing is, bike stuff isn’t cheap and regardless of the color, the stuff does what it is supposed to do. Leg warmers, despite being pink, still keep my legs warm, and biking socks, regardless of looking like cotton candy, still cushion and protect my feet. Which is how I came to find myself jogging in this today:
I wore my usual attire of black and navy blue clothing, but had these sickeningly pastel leg warmers and matching socks covering my lower half. I felt like I should be cheering and chasing butterflies as a I ran, instead of gasping for air and practically limping. (As a side note, I am totally not exaggerating about the gasping and limping. I don’t get it – I train and ride constantly, I win races, and yet a fifteen minute jog with Kobe today was an exercise in pain and awkwardness. At points the dog was able to WALK and still stay ahead of me. I’m never leaving the bike again.) The worst part about the pink leg warmers is that they would not stay up, which required that I repeatedly yank them back up my thighs while trying to run.
The moral of the story is that pink workout clothing will prevent me from going to the Olympics and will never again be allowed out of the house.