Biking for Boys
It's happened to me once before, but I still find it highly amusing that it happens at all. Amusing, yet commendable. And entertaining.

Several years ago, I was biking on a trail and a guy rode up beside me and yes, started talking to me. I didn't know that people did that sort of thing, since I am afraid of people in general and almost never start conversations with people standing still or in non-workout situations. Nonetheless, this very cute guy I didn't know had approached me and began a conversation. He asked if I was looking for anyone to ride with, and when I said 'no', he proceeded to ride with me. We ended up talking a bit, stopped to get something to drink, and proceeded to date for the next three months. Yes, I literally picked up a boyfriend while working out. I'd never been so thankful to have a bicycle and two legs with which to pedal it out of doors, where boys apparently can be found.

I biked a lot this weekend, out at the lake. I don't bike with the intent to hook up with anyone. But when the weather is nice, I can often be found on my bike, and often at the lake. It's my favorite place to bike, as is the case for all of the people in the rest of the world, apparently. We had a gorgeous weekend, perfect for being outside, doing outside-type stuff. Lots of people out and about. Much fun for all.

I was on my third and final lap around the lake (nearing the 28 mile mark), when a guy rode up beside me and started talking to me. Now, I realize I am extremely sexy, but in mid-workout I am likely less attractive than, say, after I've showered, done my hair, put on make-up, and donned one of my ultra-hip outfits. While biking in the heat, I'm wearing play clothes, including a bike helmet, which severely mashes down my hair, and my cycling sunglasses, which cause me to look like a large-eyed, lanky insect on a bike. My legs are mega-white from the winter months indoors, and my shoulders are sunburned brightly pink from five minutes of being out in the sun. I'm sweating, huffing and puffing, smelling of lake, and trying not to swallow the bugs that keep hitting me in the face as I speed along the trail.

This is why I'm amused that men approach women in this type of situation. What is attractive about what I just described? I can't get a guy to talk to me when I'm properly approachable, yet when I'm as funked out, odd looking, and stinky as I ever am, they seem drawn to me. Why is that?

Anyway, I don't technically know that this guy was wanting a date with me. He rode alongside me for a bit, telling me I was riding at a really good pace because he'd been behind me for about eight miles, unable to catch up to me. I can only assume he saw me fly past him and was mesmerized by my phenomenal backside, leading him to pursue me nearly completely around the lake until he finally caught up with me. Whatever triggered his interest, I was very excited to hear that I was going at a good pace, since I was on the last mile or so of three laps, and getting tired. I guess my end-of-ride fatigue is what made our encounter possible. . .

We chatted a bit about bike stuff, training, etc. He offered some great advice for my training, and encouragement. He was very nice and friendly. He even offered for me to hook up with him and his training group for regular rides. Strangely, his group was nowhere to be found at that particular moment. . .

Once he found out what I do as my day job, he excitedly asked if we ever need volunteers here at the shelter. He apparently has a church group eager to get involved in some projects. Whether that's true or not, it was the perfect opportunity for me to get my (office only) name, number, and email address in his hands. I have to admit, the cute church-going cycling type is appealing to me. So I didn't hesitate to make sure he could get in touch with me at my office for 'official' business.

We parted at the end of my ride, he with my information, and me with forgetting his name. I'm pretty sure it starts with an 'R'. Could be Rick, maybe Ryan, or Ron. Hopefully not Rob. That was the name of the first bicycle boyfriend several years ago.

Whatever his intentions, I commend him for bravery. Striking up a conversation with someone you don't know who is deeply engrossed in a high-speed workout takes guts, and is not easy. So even if I never hear from him again, he is a brave, brave man.

And I will continue to ponder the great question about workout attractions. Why do I attract guys while biking? I've surely not ever been able to figure it out, and I just may never get to the bottom of it.

But, if you need me, I'll be thinking about it while on my bike. Out at the lake . . .

C.T.

UPDATE: He finally called a month later. His name does not actually start with an 'R'. It starts with a 'D'. And he actually was only interested in coordinating a service project at the homeless shelter where I slave all day. At least I'm using my sexy bike-ness for a good cause. . .