Shivers.
There's an old, long-sleeved, fleece jersey hanging from a hook next to the trainer. One shoulder has a few small holes in it from that time years ago when I was riding the TT bike and went down in some early-season gravel. Sometimes the hook pokes through those holes, making it harder to remove from the bike.
Sometimes, on particularly cold mornings, I'll put it on while I'm warming up on the trainer while the computer boots up and Zwift loads or updates or whatever else needs to be done at the worst possible moment. Five minutes later I'll shed it as I settle in. Five minutes later I'll turn on the fan just before I start to sweat. There have been times where both of these waypoints have been reached before I ever make it onto Zwift.
The jersey doesn't look all that great. It doesn't smell all that great. either. I occasionally use it as a towel to wipe the sweat off my face, then forget to wash it for a couple months. To wash it would likely doom the advanced bacterial civilizations that have been spawned on its surface. I may be a sociopath, but genocide first thing in the morning isn't my idea of fun. Plus, I'm lazy.
So fucking lazy.
I lot of my dedicated trainer kit is like that jersey. Less than socially acceptable, but otherwise serviceable. Maybe my ass crack is just beginning to show through the subliminated panel. Maybe the stitching is starting to fray. A hole here or there. As long as the chamois is good and more or less held in one place by the remaining lycra, it's all good. The only people who are going to see it are my family, and they've been ignoring me for years.
The jersey still serves a functional purpose, beyond aromatherapy. For those five minutes, it performs a valuable service, before it's unceremoniously draped over the hook for another day. It's contributing to the cause, and I guess it would say (it may have become sentient in the last couple weeks) that stinking is a price it is willing to pay to stay in the game.
On that point, I guess we agree.
Sometimes, on particularly cold mornings, I'll put it on while I'm warming up on the trainer while the computer boots up and Zwift loads or updates or whatever else needs to be done at the worst possible moment. Five minutes later I'll shed it as I settle in. Five minutes later I'll turn on the fan just before I start to sweat. There have been times where both of these waypoints have been reached before I ever make it onto Zwift.
The jersey doesn't look all that great. It doesn't smell all that great. either. I occasionally use it as a towel to wipe the sweat off my face, then forget to wash it for a couple months. To wash it would likely doom the advanced bacterial civilizations that have been spawned on its surface. I may be a sociopath, but genocide first thing in the morning isn't my idea of fun. Plus, I'm lazy.
So fucking lazy.
I lot of my dedicated trainer kit is like that jersey. Less than socially acceptable, but otherwise serviceable. Maybe my ass crack is just beginning to show through the subliminated panel. Maybe the stitching is starting to fray. A hole here or there. As long as the chamois is good and more or less held in one place by the remaining lycra, it's all good. The only people who are going to see it are my family, and they've been ignoring me for years.
The jersey still serves a functional purpose, beyond aromatherapy. For those five minutes, it performs a valuable service, before it's unceremoniously draped over the hook for another day. It's contributing to the cause, and I guess it would say (it may have become sentient in the last couple weeks) that stinking is a price it is willing to pay to stay in the game.
On that point, I guess we agree.
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