The Agony of da Seat

Okay, so my wife and I managed to sneak in another ride – our second after more than a year off the bikes. The ride was “only” nine miles this time, but I’m actually surprised that we rode even that many. Why?

Two words: baboon butt.

I’ll give you a moment to conjure up an image of the last baboon’s rosy posterior that you’ve seen. Got it? And now you know what almost had me leaping off my bike’s seat the first time I sat on it after my 13 mile, first-time-back-on-the-bike-in-over-a-year ride two days before.

Much like the excruciating pain of child birth (so I’m told, at least), the mind mercifully forgets how much agony those rock hard, razor thin, completely inflexible bike seats can inflict on the oh-so-sensitive skin on one’s nether regions. What masochistic sadist designed these things, anyway? I mean, besides having less padding than a wedge of granite, these satanic “seats” want to disappear up inside places where the sun don’t shine within the first half mile of any given ride.

Bumps in the road? Puh-lease! Talk about "the agony of da seat." Dear goodness.

Thankfully, of all the adventures I've had in life, I’ve never been caught unawares in a prison shower. But (butt) after my recent battle-with-the-saddle, I think I might have some idea of what that intrusive experience would be like. Yowza!

Now, one would think that a heavier person like me would have an advantage – all that extra padding and all. Having cheeks like fluffy twin pillows should make the ride a whole lot more comfortable than someone who is more of a boney Ichabod Crane type. Sadly, no. The extra weight I lug around combined with the forces of gravity over many miles of riding produce some of the worst chafing and irritation a person can experience short of an infant’s case of terminal diaper rash.

If you’ve never ridden a road bike with a traditional saddle, try it for a few miles and you’ll understand why cyclists wear those stretchy skin-tight short pants with the padded crotch (the technical name for this heaven-sent invention is the chamois).

The subject of bike shorts is rich enough for another post entirely. So I’ll save any more comments for a later day. But check back often, because there’s a secret to wearing bike shorts that is extremely well-kept and embarrassingly obvious once you find out. But, that’s all I’ll say for now.

 I have to go find a barrel of Desitin.