The Fat Cyclist

If I were riding my bicycle much at the moment, I’d (grudgingly) admit to being a fat cyclist.  I’m not riding, though–I hatehatehate cold-weather cycling–so the cyclist part of the label doesn’t really apply.  Just fat.

But The Fat Cyclist–he’s, well, the list of adjectives is long:  he’s hardcore, he’s inspiring, he’s funny, he’s smart.  He’s a fantastic writer and a serious cyclist and an amazing player in the fight against cancer.

You should go read his blog.  It’s at fatcyclist.com.

I used to be a semi-serious cyclist (if you go further back in time, I was a life-long couch potato, so the cycling thing was, obviously, fairly recent, and fairly laughable).  It started innocently enough, when Lee bought me a really fabulous bike, custom-built for me, and (of course) painted purple.  I was really planning to just ride a little bit, now and again, to get fitter.  I loved it.  LOVED. IT.

I decided (less than a year after getting the bike) to do this crazy thing called randonneuring.  Ultra-distance, unsupported solo riding, for time.  I should note here that I am very slow on the bike.  Very.  My ass is like leather–I can sit on the saddle all day (and all night) with no trouble, but I won’t get anywhere in a big hurry.

I did this for several years–crazy long bike rides that I finished just inside the time limit–100 miles, 150 miles, 200 miles.  The longest ride I ever finished was about 375 miles.  It took me 39 hours and 40 minutes.  The cut-off was 40 hours.  Anyway, one day in 2007, in the middle of a 250 mile ride in Wisconsin, I decided I wasn’t having fun.  I was hot, and tired, and knew I was going to be riding all night long by myself.  So I quit.

That’s the difference between me and The Fat Cyclist.  He doesn’t quit.  When his wife had cancer, he didn’t quit.  He hung in there, taking care of her, taking care of their children, right to the end.  He’s still taking care of the children; his wife, sadly, died last summer.  Through it all, he rode his bike, and wrote his blog, and urged his readers to do something to help in the cancer community (which, when you think about it, is all of us).

In December, he did an amazing thing on his blog.  I’m not going to tell you what, because I want you to go read the story for yourself.  The first entry is here; be sure to read in chronological order.  After you’ve read all about it, you can listen to a radio piece about The Fat Cyclist (his name is Elden) and his tale.  Dick Gordon’s The Story interviewed him last week; the piece is about 40 minutes long, but worth the time.  Trust me.