CatherineB
New Member
- Location
- Leeds
When you're short, round, female, and wearing heels, pushing your big red bike up the hill instead of riding makes you look like a bit of an amateur who got in over her head (if I was lean and mean in a swoopy helmet and lycra on a carbon fibre super-bike, people would just assume I had a mechanical problem of some sort) so I make it a point NOT to walk, even if I'm a sweaty, trembling mess by the time I make it to the top. Today, however, I was on my way to a meeting in an unfamiliar part of town, and I encountered a veritable Everest. It was starting to snow a bit, so I was afraid my usual method of 'just-stand-on-the-pedals-and-do-it even if it kills you' might end in blood and tears (the sweat was inevitable) so I had to employ what I thought would be an emergency face-saving hill maneuver. It went like this:
See, sometimes a hill is completely pedal-able if you take a break or two - however, stopping to lean on your bars and pant for a bit is almost as embarrassing as walking. My solution? Urgent text message! Just when my legs and heart were about to give out, I pretended to hear something - quizzical face, tilted head. Oh! It's the phone! Who could it be? Must pull over to check! How bothersome, I was so enjoying the climb! Rustled through coat pockets, pulled out the phone. Poked at it while looking cross until my heart settled down, put the phone away, and continued up the hill, refreshed. No one would know I had to stop because my lungs were about to collapse!
The very, very sad thing is that I am really that silly and self conscious. Later, when I thought about it, I realised that I would think nothing of someone else pushing a bike or stopping for a breath, whether it was Lance Armstrong or his 95 year old gran, but if I did see someone else pull over to check their phone I might think they were a bit of a twit.
See, sometimes a hill is completely pedal-able if you take a break or two - however, stopping to lean on your bars and pant for a bit is almost as embarrassing as walking. My solution? Urgent text message! Just when my legs and heart were about to give out, I pretended to hear something - quizzical face, tilted head. Oh! It's the phone! Who could it be? Must pull over to check! How bothersome, I was so enjoying the climb! Rustled through coat pockets, pulled out the phone. Poked at it while looking cross until my heart settled down, put the phone away, and continued up the hill, refreshed. No one would know I had to stop because my lungs were about to collapse!
The very, very sad thing is that I am really that silly and self conscious. Later, when I thought about it, I realised that I would think nothing of someone else pushing a bike or stopping for a breath, whether it was Lance Armstrong or his 95 year old gran, but if I did see someone else pull over to check their phone I might think they were a bit of a twit.
