Madonna and lycra

As with any new sport there is always new kit to acquire. I had already been given a lot of grief for turning up on my first training ride with my incredibly heavy commuting bike, sporting tracksuit bottoms and a fleece. Everyone had clearly been cycling before and had anorexic looking bikes with no obvious aversion to lycra. I was not in the club and stuck out like a sore thumb.

Some sports are cheaper and less complicated than others. In the case of swimming its ... ’trunks’ ... check ... ’goggles’ ... check ... and you are off. For cycling its a case of speaking to your bank manager before you even walk into a bike shop, and then walking back into that shop about a hundred times before you even vaguely look like you know what you are doing. I now know pretty much all the staff at Evans cycles in Wandsworth by name...and I think its fair to say they are quite happy about it.

My original budget soon went straight out the window when I quickly discovered that cycle stores brought out the worst in my spending side. I wasn’t quite Imelda Marcos in a shoe shop but I did get weirdly overly excited about carbon fibre, gear ratios and wheel rims. But after several excursions on possible suitors I soon fell deeply in love with a Trek Madone 4.5.....or Madonna as she soon came to be known (I hoped a religious name might somehow help me at particular low points on the tour).



The initial excitement I had with first acquiring Madonna soon rapidly disappeared when I realised that buying a bike was only the beginning. Firstly you needed kit for the bike... water bottle cages, speedometer, clip-in pedals, bike bags, lights, puncture repair kits....and on, and on, and on. Then you needed kit to keep you actually on the bike... carbohydrate drinks, gels, water bottles, saddle creams, recovery shakes... and on, and on, and on.

Finally you needed the kit for you to wear on the bike....helmets, shades, shoes, gloves, jerseys and of course the dreaded lycra outfits. A material that only looks good on supermodels, it leaves nothing to the imagination. And if its white and it’s raining....it leaves no imagining what so ever. The first time I saw myself in the mirror wearing lycra shorts I felt an almost instant reflex to cover my groin with my hands. But over time and hanging out with others similarly on show – I began to embrace it for all its glory.