Y’all, there is an epidemic in the great city of Colorado Springs. And I’m not talking about the plague ridden prairie dogs running around either. We’ve all witnessed it. I’m talking about…
Bubble Butts and Thunder Thighs
I don’t think there has been a year in the past several years that I haven’t been bombarded with these “Top 20 Fittest Cities” or “Top 10 Fittest States” lists that show up on my Facebook newsfeed at whatever random time the Facebook Gods deem necessary to make me feel bad that I’m sitting on Facebook and not out there actively contributing to Fit Society.
And you know what state is almost always on that list? Colorado. And you know what city is almost always on that list? Colorado Springs. And I say almost always because I got bored of googling fit lists to prove my point. The information is out there, I’ll let you do the work.
But you know why it doesn’t matter if I scroll across these lists on my News Feed? Because I get bombarded with this fact every time I leave my house. Every. Damn. Time.
You see every time I leave my house, an alert is sent out to 24123894095 bicyclists in the nearby area to gather and flock immediately to the route I’m taking to my destination. And when I’m running late, that number promptly doubles.
They are everywhere. EVERYWHERE. I can hardly go a day without seeing a bicyclist on the roads here. But you know what else? I see them other places too, restaurants, the grocery stores, bars, street corners, crawling out of cracks in the sidewalk. I mean you seriously can’t escape them.
But Cara, if they’re not on their bicycles how do you know that they’re bicyclists? You might be asking at this moment. This is where we get back to that epidemic I mentioned in the beginning of this post.
I’ll try to explain this to you very scientifically. When a person with a bike has reached the stage in their biking life where they are ready to make the full transformation, they step into a cocoon for an undisclosed amount of time and emerge as a beautiful bicyclist.
Ok no, that was totally bullshit. The truth is I don’t understand how it happens either. I’m just as fascinated by the transformation as I think everyone else secretly is, I just happen to be the one actually saying it out loud.
Yeah, you all know what I’m talking about at this point. And you’ve tried, you’ve tried to look away but you can’t. Those ridiculously toned, muscular thighs. I’m convinced, if thunder looked like a thing, that would be it. And it all leads up to those perfectly sculpted, perfectly bubbled butt cheeks. What even…like how does that happen? It’s even easier to see all of it because for some other reason bicyclists don’t appear to own any real pants.
Remember as a kid blowing bubbles and you wanted to hold them in your hand? But you couldn’t because every time you tried, they popped. Don’t try to hold bubble butts in your hand either, you’ll get popped.
So what does this have to do with lifestyle changes?
Nothing, absolutely nothing. I just wanted to talk about butts.
Ok ok, no there is a point to this I promise. See despite being oddly fascinated, I also admire these people for something else. Their dedication to their sport. Whether it’s mountain biking, street biking, other kinds of biking that I don’t actually know about because I’m not bike savvy.
It takes serious time to get that good at riding a bike and build up those muscles, that’s no easy feat. And they truly love doing it. I know this because they literally talk about it all the time. All. The. Time.
Here’s the thing, I hate biking. Hate it.
There are so many more things I would rather sit on than a cold, hard, awkwardly shaped bicycle seat. Not to mention the more things between me and the ground, especially with wheels, the more likely I am to wind up getting hurt.
But maybe you just had a traumatic experience as a child and you haven’t come to terms with it yet. Ok yeah, maybe I did. Maybe when I was first learning to ride a bike at the tender age of 5, someone thought it was a good idea to let the older neighbor kid next door (who hated me, mind you) teach me how to ride a bike. Turns out he just happened to “accidentally” let go as I careened my bike into a freshly trimmed pile of thorny branches.
But I got back on the bike, and I did eventually learn how to ride. And I spent many fond years of my childhood riding my bike around the various neighborhoods we lived in growing up. But I grew out of enjoying riding my bike, and now it sits somewhere covered in dust in my parents garage.
Maybe part of it is because I do find it rather uncomfortable, maybe another part of it is because riding a bike on anything other than perfectly flat terrain is harder than it feels like it should be. Either way, I just don’t enjoy it anymore. And that brings me to an important point that I’ve learned in making these lifestyle changes.
Any kind of good exercise is hard. But the beauty of having so many choices is that you can pick your hard. Don’t like biking? Don’t do it. Don’t like running? Don’t do it. It’s really that simple. The less you enjoy something, the less likely you are to stick to it. So do yourself a favor and find something you do enjoy, and stick with it. I really enjoyed kickboxing when I was doing it, I also found a love of running. These things are both hard, but I can stick to them because I enjoy doing them. And I’m still open to trying new things, and I encourage you all to try new workouts too. Having a variety of different workouts is never a bad thing either.
And I may not be clocking the speeds I want to, and I may not have the endurance I want yet either. But the more I run, the more I see progress, and the more I see myself getting stronger with every run. And I’m in it 100% only because I enjoy doing it.
The Moral of the Story: Make your lifestyle changes enjoyable.
And I’m sorry that you’ll never be able to avert your eyes from the endless sea of bubble butts and thunder thighs ever again.