Hmmm.
Probably the best way to increase your conditioning is to hook up with a group of club riders and
occasionally ride with them. Pick the snottyist and most elitist group you can find. If you live in
Washington, I hear that the Outdoor Magazine "Gear Guy" belongs to such a group, and that they
accept bents in the group for ridicule purposes only.
Since you are totally overweight and out of shape, and riding a relatively heavy "comfort" bent, you
will confirm all of thier preconceived notions about bents, and they will revel in an opportunity to
ridicule and humiliate you on every hill of the ride. You will be dropped by this group mercilessly
at first. Even though you are well past your "testosterone poisoning" younger days, the injustice
and cruelty of that whole experience will stick with you and you will find yourself taking the long
way back on your regular solo rides, and even doing that steep little "out and back" detour to get
some hill conditioning in.
You will find that the regular riding helps you to drop weight and add muscle to your aged,
walrus-like, blubber-marblized midsection, and your average speed will kick up several notches. When
you hook up with the group for clubs rides now, you will find that there will begin to be some
silent sympathizers who secretly admire the fact that you have turned the corner and whipped
yourself into moderately decent shape, even if you ride a bent. Maybe its the guy you loaned your
cell phone to for a call to his wife during a ride, or the tandem couple who appreciated that you
stayed to help them take care of that flat while the rest of the group dropped them and rode off
like self-centered, anti-social buffoons.
Your silent supporters will back you up in small little ways, like changing the subject when the
most vocal and bombastic anti-bent group members try to spew provacations about bents during coffee
stops. If you are not now one, you will have a small insight as to what it feels like to be an
isoloated racial minority in a group setting. Next, you will find yourself dreaming of that exotic,
high $$$ performance bent that only weighs 21 lbs. Since you have dropped 25 lbs due to regular
riding , you are fairly certain that if you had that magic new bent, you could settle accounts with
the blowhard members of your cyling group for once and for all. And you do.
By now bent riding has become an addiction, and you find yourself checking internet bent NG's and
chat groups and gleaning arcane tidbits of knowlege about bike parts and bent technology. You even
know what a "splitter plate"
is. You are now logging about 200-300 miles per week on your bent, and things are a little strained
with your non-riding friends and family because you don't seem to have time for them anymore.
The first group you were riding with turns out in retrospect to have been a bunch of overweight
old duffers that can no longer keep up with you at all, so you graduate to a newer and younger
group that includes a goodly number of Cat 3-4 riders. Nobody gives you trouble about your bike
anymore; they ride enough to know that your physical condition is the main thing when it comes
to serious riding.
Finally, you will start having some repetitive stress and overuse injuries and have to do some
riding layoffs. You need to spend more time at work too, so the riding suffers. You will have some
bad days on your bent, and no longer will you feel the exuberant thrill of recumbent triumpalism
that comes from blowing by a paceline of lycra clad roadies at well over 30 mph. Who cares anyway?
You will finally patch things up by spending more time with your wife, friends and family because
they are really the most important thing in your life, and that high performance bent will get sold
over the internet on www.recumbents.com to some lady named Marci who is looking for that perfect
ride for her husband of some friend.
Weeks later, after having to buy some new trousers at Mervin's to accomodate your expanding
waistline, you will aimlessly wander out into the garage and spot your old Sun EZRacers comfort bent
that has been sitting abandoned and collecting dust in the corner for some time. Funny that you
never sold it, huh?. After assuring your wife that you were only going for a "very short" ride on
the bikepath, and that everything is OK, you will find yourself gliding down the path on your old
magic carpet bent with this silly stupid grin on your face. Heck, you didn't even bother to put on
any cycling clothes, so you like like any other middle-age guy on a bent with your gray hair,
shorts, white socks, beard, and aero-belly. . . . .