Gray skies, light breeze, flurries drifting through the air. Today is the day that Old Man Winter decided to peek through curtains and size up the Mid Atlantic. Torday, it finally feels a bit like Decemeber. When the old man starts showing his face, it means getting to the annual task of digging through the closet for that stash of tights and jackets.
Rewind about 365... I distinctly remember being given a new pair of cycling tights. "These won't work for me - they're way too big. They're brand new and I have no idea where I got them. They're yours now." Size Large, Brand New chamois. Done and Done... I'll take 'em. In my pile of winter gear they stayed until today, when my foraging trip to the closet ensued.
After a lazy morning, I gathered my gear for an early afternoon ride at French Creek. Kitting up, I pulled on the sweet new pair of tights. They fit perfectly! KPD(soon to be)S and I rolled away into the woods. As I pedaled around though, I could feel that something wasn't right. Maybe I'm just off today? Maybe it's because I haven't been on the singlespeed for a long time? Maybe it's because I'm not used to a squishy front end? Maybe it's the different saddle? All kinds of questions ran through my head in that first few minutes of the ride.
Every chance I got, I found myself adjusting.... Moving around to get comfortable; out of the saddle, back into the saddle, front, back. I tugged at my new tights. Untied and re-tied; positioned this, positioned that... Alas, nothing seemed to remedy my woes.
So. These tights won't work for me; while they're no longer brand new, they're yours now if you want them... A once used pair of Size Large women's tights. Free to a good home.
Fail.
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