Hey Lance, why so serious?

When I bought my first and only road bike a few years ago I was only planning on riding it to class. I paid a neighbor $25 for a mens’ Raleigh road bike that’s probably at least 20 years old. My dad fixed it up and even added lights, a rack and my favorite accessory-a bright yellow crate so I could fit in with the other two-wheeling commuters on campus.

Now that I don’t need to ride to class anymore I like taking my trusty steed out for a spin in the mornings. My mom often joins me and we get a kick out of riding past all the Lance look-alikes. On any given day I might spot half a dozen or more other bikers on the road we frequent. I get passed frequently by serious bikers decked out in flashy spandex suits with mirrors affixed to their helmets. I can just imagine what’s going through their heads as they ignore my wave and “Good morning!” I’m guessing it’s something like, “What is yellow-basket girl doing on my route? Making a pizza delivery? And where’s her Discovery Team shirt? Lame sauce.”

When did these Lance-inators become so common in American sports? In every “leisure” activity there are plenty of over-committed followers. When I used to frequent my college’s indoor climbing walls there were loads of mini Chris Sharma’s. They swore like sailors on the hardest routes, did 30 pull-ups at a time on the holds (for fun!), and used funky climber lingo like, “Hey man, you should try and mantel off that hold there.” One told me a horror story about splitting his knuckle in two while climbing outdoors. Of course he kept climbing and dealt with the minor flesh wound later. Right.

Sometimes I catch myself trying to fit in with the more intense participants in the sports I enjoy. I’ve been known to say something like “Yeah, the crack’s on” while climbing. Of course I can never say it with a straight face. But more often than not I still feel like an outsider despite how much I progress at swimming, biking or climbing.

Don’t get me wrong, I have a lot of respect for people who can pour so much energy into a hobby. But there’s a fine line between passion and obsession. Let’s not forget that these sports are just that-hobbies. So make a little room for those of us who are dabblers and enjoy a leisurely pursuit of multiple sports. Maybe I don’t have a sleek aluminum bike that I can balance on one finger, but I can change a busted tube. I vaguely understand what it means to “mantel a hold” and know when climbers talk about crack they aren’t referring to body parts or drugs. So I hope the other dabblers out there continue to pursue their favorite sports even if they have outdated equipment and a little less resolve. Anyway, I’ve got a pizza to deliver.