Designed by air

Posted on February 23, 2015 by Christopher Cudworth
This Toyota vehicle was designed by air.

This Toyota vehicle was designed by air.

During a visit to the Chicago Auto Show this past weekend, we were entering the Toyota arena while a speaker laid into the benefits of some sort of concept or luxury sports couple gleaming in the bright lights. He was talking about how the car came about and spouted a phrase that stuck in my head. “This vehicle was designed by air,” he said.

It certainly looked the part. The car looked like it was formed from a pile of molten grey metal on a slab blown free of anything that did not fit the aerodynamic scheme of a fast-moving piece of machinery.

Then it struck me. I’m the opposite of that machine on the bike. I admit it. Despite a bike-fitting that was supposed to build comfort and aerodynamics, my position is still all wrong. It hurts me in particular on windy stretches of road. I can see over the heads of literally everyone in front of me.

Bike fit. Fit bike. 

A group of yoga students tests their aerodynamic position.

A group of yoga students tests their aerodynamic position.

How this came about I’m not exactly sure. One has to trust that a bike fitter will arrive at the best solution. Tweaking yes, we have to do that ourselves. As the season went on last year I moved my bike seat back a centimeter or so because my strength allowed me to do so.

But that’s about it. I have not the courage to radically experiment with the fit lest I screw it up altogether. There is nothing worse than a bike that does not fit. Nothing. Basically it becomes a torture device. The longer you go, the less efficient you become. And the pain. It can arrive in the lower back. The hamstrings. Even the calves, the neck and the face.

Well, the face is the part where you make angry pained expressions at having to try so hard to ride easy. Professional bike racers actually spend time in wind tunnels testing their aero positions. My wind tunnel is a stretch of road 15 miles west of where I live. Out there among the flat cornfields of Illinois, there is no place left to hide. Headwinds. Crosswinds. Either you are riding in an efficient position out there or you are not.

Aero position

The real test comes when you are riding with triathletes. Road cyclists sit up a bit when riding in a group. We use the draft to move along together. But ride with a group of triathletes and no one gives a rat’s ass if you’re chewing the wind by yourself. They’re all tucked down on the aero bars with thighs pumping. So either you crouch down behind them or you take about a 30% efficient drop from the wind gulping down your throat.

If you have not experienced that gap in efficiency, just trust me. It’s depressing.

Running tall

The air coming out of you mouth tells you you're going forward. That's about the extent of my aerodynamic studies this winter.

The air coming out of you mouth tells you you’re going forward. That’s about the extent of my aerodynamic studies this winter.

Frankly that has long been a problem in running as well. At 6’1.5″ I was often taller than my nearest competitors. The fastest runners tend to be in the 5’8″ range. That meant the wind was almost always hitting me in the face. Thanks, guys. Grow a little.

So okay, that can’t be controlled while running. But on the bike I think something can be done about it. And I’m just now headed up to a swim lesson. And if your efficiency in the water is not what it should be, you literally go nowhere in the pool.

Designed by air. Refined by water. But it all comes to trial and error. And then trial by fire. Yes, I learned a couple things at the Chicago Auto Show. Now it’s time to put them into action.

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10 Stone Cold Good Reasons to go Outside and Run Today.

Posted on February 20, 2015 by Christopher Cudworth

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Is Classic Rock really good for you?

Posted on February 19, 2015 by Christopher Cudworth

IMG_5755In the early scenes of the movie Silver Linings Playbook, the character played by Bradley Cooper has recently been checked out of a treatment center for mental illness. His anxiety remains at a boiling point. When he walks into his therapist’s office for an appointment, the song My Cherie Amour by Stevie Wonder is playing quietly over the sound system in the office.

He stares at the receptionist and asks:

“Is this song really playing? This song is killing me. Can you please turn it off?”

It was the same song playing in his bedroom when he came home to find his wife engaged in sex with another man. He physically attacked the man. That crushing incident led to a nervous breakdown and a restraining order to prevent him from stalking his own wife.

Trigger points

His therapist purposely had the song My Cherie Amour playing as a test of his emotional stability. The song was a trigger for his anger and mental stability. “You have to find a strategy,” his therapist warned him.

IMG_5757Inspiration or desperation

More typically we tend to think of songs as inspiration for our best efforts. The music played at big athletic events such as marathons or triathlons usually features anthemic tunes designed to motivate, enervate and concentrate our mental energies on the moment. One wonders whether this dynamic is truly a sign of inspiration or desperation for motivation?

Clearly songs can have the opposite effect of positivity. Music from moments in our lives that were not so great can have a deleterious effect on our psyche. We recall music from the breakup of a love affair with a very personal and contradictory mix of wistfulness, doubt or unrequited anger. “Why did it end?” a breakup song might make us think. Or, “Why did I ever go out with them?”

Beast of Burden

Just this morning while running four miles on an indoor track, a song came on that made me think back to a college relationship. The Rolling Stones “Beast of Burden” was playing as part of a long set list of 70s tunes. It struck me funny that here, 30+ years after these tunes were released, the old associations still ring true. I remember singing that song as a bit of a joke to my college girlfriend. We were in the midst of one of those discussions college kids have about what their relationship means. Or does it mean anything at all? She was playing me against another guy she’d met back home. Later she’d make a real choice to date and marry someone else. So the warning signs were there, and the song almost perfectly captured the moment when it became apparent that we were definitely in love, but not for good.

I’ll never be your beast of burden
My back is broad but it’s a hurting
All I want is for you to make love to me

I’ll never be your beast of burden
I’ve walked for miles my feet are hurting
All I want is for you to make love to me

Am I hard enough
Am I rough enough
Am I rich enough
I’m not too blind to see

Associations

IMG_5753In fact there are hundreds of songs like these that bring back memories from our past. We use them as the “soundtrack of our lives,” to steal a cliche from a broad cultural meme. One wonders whether that’s really a good thing for us, long term. Are we all secretly locked in an emotional cycle like the Bradley Cooper character in Silver Linings Playbook? Are we constantly replaying the 1960s, 70s, 80s or 90s in our minds? Do we need to stop this right now? Find a new strategy perhaps?

Decade by decade

Music from the 1940s creeps me out. Music from the 50s, the decade into which I was late born, generally feels trite. Music from the 1960s is rich in personal history and growing up with the Beatles, Doors and Beach Boys. This was revolutionary music. Music from the 1970s filled my high school and college years. This and the late 1960s was Classic Rock at its most powerful. Music of the 1980s was reactionary yet always felt a little lost with exception of the Talking Heads, perhaps, and a few others. Music of the 1990s was bombastic, looking for its purpose. Music of the 2000s felt repetitive at times, but began to resolve itself with bands innovating sounds from the roots of rock’n’roll. The Black Keys come to mind. Arcade Fire. Cold Play kept on playing.

High and dry

keith-richards1As a denizen of all these decades I feel a bit like all this music washed me up on a beach somewhere. Or it makes me feel like a pale imitation of Keith Richards, high and dry but covered with the sands of time, I look back and think about all the ways we consumed our music as well. 45s. Albums. Tapes. CDs. MP3s. And now most of it is streaming. Through my Mac. iPhone. On and on we go.

The method of delivery may change, but the music remains largely the same. And each time we hear certain songs, we roll up on the same beach in our minds. We recall getting high to Led Zeppelin in the back of a cargo van with no seats to hold us still. Or we remember that time we were puking under a table at McDonalds from having too much to drink at a college weekend formal. And what was that song playing? Oh yeah, Baby Come Back by Player. “Any kind of fool could see…there was something…in everything about you…”

Singing our lungs out

IMG_3468As runners in the 70s we had no way to portably carry our music. So we sang all the time. Those are powerful associations with running for sure.

Just last Friday night my girlfriend and I attended a production of the rock opera Tommy. The music was familiar in a strange way. All those lyrics, sung so many times over in our youth. Like a musical hook through our heads: “How can we follow?” 

We sang that entire album in the showers after cross country practice in high school. But that makes me determined, in a way, to move forward in my musical tastes. One can certainly appreciate the hallowed halls of Classic Rock without getting stuck in time. Or are we truly deaf, dumb and blind like the lead character in Tommy? Should we stay in our Classic Rock confinement, or is it time to branch out? How dysfunctional is it to think that our minds and souls depend on old songs to create new and fervent memories? In other words, is Classic Rock really good for you?

The Rock Canon

There is indeed a retro appreciation that has grown up around classic rock, especially music recorded on vinyl albums. The universal idea that rock music sounds better on vinyl has produced a whole new market for vinyl records. My own turntable was fixed a couple years ago but recently stopped cold. Something in the direct drive motor must have given out again.

Or perhaps the Technics turntable quit in quiet testimony to recently announcing closing of the store chain known as Radio Shack.  That’s where IMG_5758I originally bought my stereo equipment back in the late 1970s and early 80s.

Actually there is very little music in my album collection that feels good to listen to. My Bowie and Beatles and Eagles and Dan Fogelberg all still sound good. So does Joan Armatrading in that 80s sort of way. And Dire Straits. But there are so many other albums for which I just don’t have the energy or time to consider again. I won’t bore you with the names. Well, just one. Elvin Bishop.

So much of that music is tired out in my mind. It’s quite interesting to have satellite radio in my car with its choice of Classic Rock and Deep Tracks channels. But quite often a song comes on that I cannot listen to for the 1000th time and I just change the channel. Find something new, my brain keeps telling me.

Sure, on the way to Run Club on Saturday morning it sometimes feels good to pop on the 70s channel. One needs familiarity at that time of day. It’s enough to consider running 90 minutes without tiring your brain out trying to take in new music as well.

I don’t listen to music while I run or cycle. It’s generally too distracting. In some ways, it can be dangerous. I’m enough of a space cadet without having my attention occupied by the 536th listen to Space Cowboy or other 70s classic by the Steve Miller Band.

Something new

IMG_3473Something in me now prefers having my musical tastes challenged and stretched by the bands I hear on The Loft, for example, or The Spectrum.

After all, we buy new shoes every few months. Shouldn’t we be consuming new music as well? Aren’t our brains worn out by hearing the same songs over and over and over again? Do our minds fatigue just like our legs when our shoes are worn out?

There is a Classic Rock station here in Chicago that calls itself The Drive. But I call it The Drain, because that’s what it does to all those old songs they play. Drain all meaning from them by repetition. It’s exhausting, like running or riding the same route day after day.

Perhaps its just one of the tarsnakes in life. Classic Rock is good enough to stick around, yet it also might be wearing us down without our knowing it. Like a brake pad rubbing the rear wheel. Life’s a drag sometimes.

Worn out soundtrack

Classic Rock is fine and has its role in life. Yes, it was definitely the soundtrack of my life. I’m grateful for that in fact. The Beatles alone made life worth living more than once. I grew up air guitaring to that amazing solo in the middle of Steely Dan’s Reeling In the Years.

I also love Stevie Wonder’s music, and in fact have my own (pleasant) associations with the song My Cherie Amour. It was playing all the time during a road trip with my best friend’s family to Rehobeth Beach, Delaware. We camped that summer and the mosquitos were so bad outside that the boys were forced into the camper where my friend’s sisters were all sleeping soundly. Sometime early in the morning when the light was streaming in a slat trhough the camper’s curtains, I glimpsed a pale full breast in the early morning sunlight. And I was in love. My Cherie Amour. That’s a good memory, alright. Especially for an eleven year old boy.

Counterweights

IMG_3505But these thoughts are also counterbalanced by songs that drag the brain down into the abyss, or punch us in the emotional gut.

Bruce Springsteen’s album The River is one of those albums that for me is chock full of angst-ridden songs heralding the 1980s, a breakup with a great girlfriend and the ensuing falseness of the Reagan era and all those newfound conservative yuppies showing up at parties with their polo collars turned up. It was a confusing, disgusting period one does not need reminders about. Some of those songs feel like a punch in the proverbial face. And it seems like much of the world is stuck in a cycle of such negativity. America seems confused right now by its own recent history. Perhaps its time we all moved on a little. Stopped living in the recent past as some sort of “better time.” Both the good and the bad in music have staying power. Being aware of these emotional triggers can be an important tool for mental health. One wonders if society as a whole does not need to consider a little emotional or sentimental hygiene.

There is music calling us forward if we pay attention to what it’s saying. Because it really is ironic that in some ways rock-and-roll has become its own brand of conservative voice in the world. This belief that Classic Rock is somehow a canon for our existence really is a bit warped as a worldview. We’ve learned enough from sex, drugs and rock-and-roll to last a lifetime or two, have we not? Let’s all vow to give something new a listen. It will do us all a bit of good.

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On Sports Illustrated, Victoria’s Secret, tattoos and other not so secret displays of self

Posted on February 18, 2015 by Christopher Cudworth

As a devout liberal and Progressive thinker, I’m all for people being and doing what they want with their bodies. Yet something in me recoils at the manufactured imagery of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition. Or for that matter, the airbrushed models in Playboy.

The calculations and thought that goes into these supposedly sexy female images ultimately should ultimately leave one cold. Anything that calculatedly titillating should be a turnoff because it is manipulative.

SI Swimsuit coverPredictably, this year’s SI Swimsuit cover shows a gal pulling her suit down to the point where the male eye naturally gravitates. You have to figure a ton of planning went into that cover. It is designed to sell magazines. Lots of magazines.

In fact there’s a whole culture built around SI swimsuit covers. The swimsuit issue alone has generated more than  $1B for Time, Inc. That’s a ton of money.

Actually, that’s a lot of money for a topic concentrated on so little fabric.

So we must ask: what does it really represent? At one point Sports Illustrated might have faintly claimed that it was celebrating women’s fitness. Okayyy…we saw through that one. Yes the girls were fit in most respects. But it doesn’t take much effort to stand in the surf and pull down your bikini bottoms or hold your own bare breasts. That might burn 1 calorie at most.

That left one alternative. The Sports Illustrated issue was actually about showing half-naked girls. Surprise! From the point at which Cheryl Tiegs wore that mesh swimsuit and nipples became part of the public lexicon, Sports Illustrated never looked back. It stopped apologizing or pretending it was about anything other than soft porn. And the public loved it. They even purchaed videos about the Making of the Sports Illustrated edition.

Meanwhile the models appearing in the edition went on to stardom in movies. Smart women such as Kathy Ireland leveraged their exposure into real business success. That sort of lets Sports Illustrated off the hook in terms of accusations of exploitation.

There’s money in it
VS Sandy ButtBut it’s also proof of the idea that there is money in sex, and the free market’s ability to exploit it. That fact puts modern day conservatives in something of a moralistic bind. The man or woman who is both socially and fiscally conservative is forced to reconcile the free market’s support for public nudity with a moral obligation to prevent women from exposing and exploiting their bodies. What’s a conservative to do?

Because it’s not a far leap from the soft porn of Sports Illustrated’s swimsuit edition to a justification for the entire pornography industry. Forbes estimates the yearly revenue of the porn industry at between $3B and $4B in revenues.

But for all its supposed revenue-generating capacity, there is an entire set-aside in the porn industry of willing participants that do not get paid much, if anything, for posting their own naked pictures online. All it takes to participate in that game is an account on a site such as Imgur or Reddit and the world is your mirror.

Eternal fascination

There’s an interesting spectrum of needs going on here. There is the eternal fascination among men with the nude female body. Yet there seems to be an equal or at least parallel audience among women who comparatively or competitively view themselves through these images.

Some blame the loosely-defined “sex industry” for manufacturing these ideas of self-exploitation and opportunities to do it. But that’s not the whole answer is it? From the Sports Illustrated models who make good money appearing in swimsuits to the girls who post .gifs on Reddit looking for feedback (or compliments) about her body, there is a need to see and be seen.

At its most basic levels there are a number of explanations to this phenomenon. There is the simple recognition that youth is flirting and temporary. A girl or gal exposing themselves for attention might just be curious and horny at the same time. Exhibitionism is not that complex an emotion. It’s a desire to be needed. Yet there’s also the probability of the sub-conscious at work. Youth is fleeting, as is plain desirability. Fitness is also fleeting. Hence all those photos of guys and girls in their workout clothes, showing tight abs and equally tight butts. There’s a reason why there are so many mirrors at the health club. People dress up to work out and dress down to appreciate it.

Oh you pretty things

VS Suit FrilledHence the allure of company’s such as Victoria’s Secret. The company makes clothing that makes women feel pretty. Some never care to share what they wear under there. Others enjoy the flair of public underwear, and the dare. It’s very much a game of hide and seek. Yet Victoria’s Secret is a $10B company. And that’s no secret. You can argue all you want about the morality of the products the company sells. People like what they deliver.

Perhaps that’s an expression of the fact that feeling sexy is not just about looking sexy after all. Not everyone that puts on a set of panties or a bra from Victoria’s Secret will looks like one of the “angel” models hired to market the brand. Everything about the marketing hints at the taboo. And yet, Victoria’s Secret has responded to its intended audience by introducing swimwear and underthings that visually enhance a women’s body no matter her breast size or other attributes. There’s a real practicality to so much of what they sell. And that, perhaps, is the real secret to their success. Pretty practicality.

Alternatives

VS Dressing roomCertainly there are quite a few men that shop at Victoria’s Secret on hopes of fulfilling their fantasy of seeing their women in attractive underwear. But it’s just as true that men who like to cross-dress will purchase items from Victoria’s Secret as well.

The formerly taboo is now open for consideration on many fronts in society. Some claim it symbolizes the downfall of culture and a sinking of morality toward base desires. Others see the current progressive state of society as a move toward honesty and empowerment. At its broadest definition, culture is expressing the full range of liberties guaranteed in the Constitution. In other words, live and let live.

The new empowerment

Not all agree on the subject of course. Some see pornography and sexploitation as a limiting factor on women’s right’s and equality. Others view the right of women to show their bodies as they wish as a real expression of those rights.

A mother raising a daughter to think independently faces some interesting challenges among all these scenarios. Do we accept our bodies for what they are? Or do we try to imitate those images found in Sports Illustrated and Victoria’s Secret?

Into this mix comes a new model for self-empowerment. More women than ever are now participating in endurance sports such as running, riding and swimming. Learning from an early age what a body can do, and how to keep fit and manage weight to the best of one’s ability are vital tools for women. These are ultimately empowering methods of healthy self-image. Middle school and high school programs in cross country and track are attracting increasing numbers of girls to an egalitarian sport where effort equates to self esteem. Triathlons are also giving women of all ages the opportunity to take control of their own bodies.

Tats and all

IMG_8337But we should not leave out the art of existence, either. Which perhaps explains  why so many women now choose to get tattoos. And… just like the underwear manufactured by Victoria’s Secret, some tattoos are private and some are worn quite publicly.

Tattoos were once the province of sailors and servicemen. The once-regrettable choice to get fuzzy ink images injected into one’s skin has evolved into a massively creative industry where anything is possible when it comes to ink and skin. There are an estimated 15,000 tattoo “parlors” in the United States accounting for about $2B in business. “Tats” are now everywhere, and on people of all ages. They align with the overall commitment to confront (and own) one’s body image in the larger culture. Athletes do seem to enjoy this type of personal branding. Getting tattoos is like writing the book of your life and then showing it off.

Where are that tats among the tits?

Interestingly, neither the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition nor Victoria’s Secret has shown a model with tattoos on its pages. Perhaps it is the fact that tattoos represent independence and ownership of a body by something other than the viewer places tattoos out of the picture. Most likely it is an airbrush job that keeps it that way.

What both Sports Illustrated and Victoria’s Secret sell is the notion of availability. A woman in skimpy clothes looks available. That’s what makes the argument over what constitutes rape so difficult for some people to discern. The classic question: If a man rapes a woman for wearing sexy outfits, was she asking for it? Of course not. But that’s where moralists have such a hard time making sense of sex in culture.

Perceptions

VS teeny TriIt’s obvious from all this exposure and self-elective display that many women want to be perceived as attractive or even sexy. Yet they also do not want undeserved attention. Women training in sports bras or booty shorts often face street harassment. It can be difficult for anyone to know where to draw the line.

That’s why the most conservative cultures in the world force women to cover up their bodies and even their head or face. These cultures resist the Western ideal of objectifying women and force women to hide as a result.

But here’s the irony: both radically conservative and radically liberal cultures place their own claims of ownership on women. Conservative zealots demand strict control of the social persona through law. Liberal western cultures (especially Americans) flaunt women sexually (or strictly) for money.

Amongst this madness women are at once both competitive and appreciative toward each other. That can really confuse the issue, but especially the male mind seeking justification (or an excuse) for a prurient attitude towards women.

Swimsuits united

VS Women in WaterSo Sports Illustrated and Victoria’s Secret are perfect symbols for the contradictory social memes inherent to American society. We love to celebrate our high moral standards yet we love our base desires even more. The once staid and dependable, Sports Illustrated, documentarian of all things athletic, now reflects the moralistic challenges faced by the nation as a whole.

We love to hide our desires in conventionalities. With even the conservative media trotting pretty women out to report the news, it appears we’re having a very public debate about what America truly values. Is it actual honesty and truth about the role of women in society that we’re seeking? Or is it some sort of backwards commentary about what it means to be empowered?

And most importantly, are the rules for competing in society fixed against women before they even play the game?  

One wonders. Certainly the fact that no women golfers seem to make the cover of Golf Digest magazine suggests that there are perceptions that no matter how good women get at the game of golf, they don’t deserve to be on the cover.

The long run

VS women's marathonIn many quarters of the sporting world, women still have a long way to go when it comes to be taken seriously as athletes, and as people. Fortunately in sports such as distance running and triathlon where women frequently compete on the same courses and at the same time as men, there is growing respect for the idea of women as equals, and more. There is also an absolute at work. The times run by women can be directly compared to men. There is no escaping the quality of their efforts. No false judging based on looks or body type. Women are putting it out there and letting their feet do the talking. In running. In cycling. In swimming. In triathlons.

Liberal dose of maturity

PreI admit I learned a lot of things from Sports Illustrated as a kid. At one point the magazine wrote a tremendously informative article on long distance running and running form. I took that article to heart and built my entire career around the advice in it. That’s a life-changing bit of journalism. They also did a cover story on Pre. And then writer and Olympic marathoner Kenny Moore contributed all those great stories on runners like Lasse Viren and more.

I also remember getting the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue and retreating to the bedroom to do what most boys do with magazines like that. Maybe that’s what made me a liberal. But I doubt it.

Because as demonstrated by most patriarchal societies in the world, it is our more conservative instincts that actually turn women into objects, not the other way around. The most liberal cultures in the world accept nudity for both men and women as a fact of life. Nude beaches are no big deal. Women can safely move about without fear of being judged for their bodies. Because when everyone is nude, everyone is equal. That might be where we’re headed in America, toward a place where liberality becomes the great equalizer. It’s probably going to take a while.

In the meantime we’re left with the Big Tease of what the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition has to offer. But I think the girls should form a union, go on strike and ditch the swimsuits altogether. That would force the hand of Sports Illustrated. So to speak.

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What to do when you run or ride into a wall of cliches

Posted on February 17, 2015 by Christopher Cudworth

In a world full of cliches, the one that seems to annoy the most is the phrase “You’re only as strong as your weakest link.” It’s one of those condescending phrases people seem to blurt out when they see you at a disadvantage, or when you’re hurt. Or worse yet, they point it at someone that has just experienced some failing that seems to have harmed the team. In other words the most cynical bastards in the world sometimes use that phrase.

Cliches happen

WallYou know how it works. Show up at a group run on a Saturday morning with a tender achilles and dare to gripe about it. Someone will undoubtedly huff and say the cliched phrase you hate to hear, “Well, you know…you know you’re only as strong as your weakest link.”

AS IF that is somehow supposed to help. Secretly you want to look up and blurt out a great big, “Fuck you.” Polite decorum prevents you from doing so. But later in the car you say it out loud just to get it off your chest.

In the moment you just shake your head and somehow find the strength to ignore the ugly obviousness of that statement and smile. “Yeah, you know, that’s true…” you say. But secretly you’re thinking: “I can’t wait until that asshole’s the one that’s hurt and I can say that stupid shit to him.”

Not a nice thing to say

“Fuck off” or “Fuck you” is seldom a nice thing to say. Still, it would be so much more satisfying to let fly rather than hold back. But truth be told, if we went around saying “fuck off” to the stupid, cliched things we hear each day, absolutely no one would want to hang out with us. And we’d get fired. Because the business world is full of cliches and the people saying them are often your pointy-haired boss.

Justified FU

Wall threeIn all the time I was caregiver to a wife with cancer, there were failings of mine that deserved a round of critical commentary. But most of the time she’d find a way to be nice about it.

With one notable exception. While trying to gulp down a horrid tasting container of liquid required before a colonoscopy, she was near gagging. It wasn’t just the taste of the stuff. She could handle that fine. But chemotherapy does evil stuff to your taste buds. Even good tasting foods are awful to a chemo patient. So imagine that nasty taste X100 and that’s what she was dealing with. It took her an hour to gag down half of it, and I for some reason got impatient with her. So I went out in the backyard to tell her to suck it up right then and there. She looked me straight in the eye and said, “Fuck. Off.”

And I deserved that. No doubt. It was insensitive of me. I’ve never claimed to be perfect. But that was so much less than perfect it deserved a caning like they dole out in Eastern Asian countries when people get caught selling or using drugs. If I’d have told her something banal such as “You know, you’re only as strong as your weakest link” at that moment she might have tackled me, held me down and choked me to death. Cliches are simply not designed to help in times of pain or crisis. Yet people use them because they know not what to say.

Habitual cliches

Athletes and businesspeople still seem to love using cliches. We pretend it’s some sort of motivational Magic Syrup. In actuality we torture each other with all kinds of cliched phrases that seem well-intentioned but actually are a way of saying “fuck you” while trying to be nice. So here, in no particular order, are the nice little “fuck yous” people use everyday. We’ve provided the “under your breath response” as a service to you.

“Noone said it was going to be easy!”….Yeah, fuck you too. 

“There’s no I in team!”…Fuck you and your stupid little team.

“Work smarter not harder.”…Fuck your smartass smartness. 

“If you act enthusiastic, you’ll be enthusiastic.”…Fuck you and by the way? I hope you die an enthusiastic death. 

Pointy-Haired_Boss“What the mind can conceive, the mind can achieve!”…Try that while you’re puking after three miles of climbing, you miserable piece of fuck. 

“Think outside the box!”…What box? This is a fucking bike, you weirdo creep. 

“When the going gets tough, the tough get going.”…Actually, it makes way more fucking sense to draft when the going gets tough. 

“Lead, follow, or get out of the way”…Fuck you. I just farted.  

“If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem”...And for saying that we can know who the real fucking problem is here.  

“Raise your game.”…This is not fucking poker you stupid douchebag. It isn’t basketball, football or fucking rugby either. It’s running. Riding. Swimming. None of those is called a fucking game. 

“Hang in there….” Fuck you. I’ve got balls but I’m not a set of testicles.

“Be proactive!”…Fuck that…what do you think I am, a running zit? 

“When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”…Fine. Now I am going to use your fucking nose as a lemon squeezer. 

Kind of angry

Wall drainOkay. We’ll admit those responses all sound kind of angry. But that’s what cliches do to us. I mean, it should make you want to scream when you hear dismissive cliches like this one: “Guns don’t kill people. People kill people.”

That is a fucking lie. Guns kill people every day. They make it easy to kill. So if you say that, you’re a lying sack of shit.

Same goes for a host of other banal phrases that are cliched euphemisms that imitate the truth without truly caring about it.

“Fair and balanced” is one such phrase that comes to mind. The very fact that Fox News feels compelled to label their opinions that way proves that the statement is not true.

Patronizing bullshit

My own son at the age of 11 once turned to me and said, “Dad, have you ever noticed when people say the words ‘good for you’ they really don’t mean it? They’re just being patronizing.”

This kid starting talking at six months old, so he learned the power of language early on. He was spot on by recognizing that some people speak those words “good for you” in a patronizing way. They’re pretending to be nice when in fact they are either jealous or dismissive of your accomplishments.  “Good for you” is one of those tarsnakes that can be taken either way.

That fact of language had not occurred to me before that moment. But yes, people give faint praise out of jealousy all the time. They smile when they don’t really mean it. They’re nice to you when they really don’t like you. They pretend they don’t care that splits on the bike or pace in a 10K was faster than them in the last race. But they really do care and they quietly hate you for every ounce of goodness you seem to exude that they cannot identify in themselves. But the cliche thing to do is pretend that isn’t true.

Competitive bitches and bastards

We’re all competitive bastards and bitches pretending to be nice when in reality the thought that goes through our heads when someone beats us at anything is, “FUCK YOU!”

That’s how we all secretly roll in this competitive world. We’re not projecting anything on anyone that they don’t already know. Better to come clean and deal with it honestly than congratulate yourself falsely for being a Mean Girl inside and a Nice Girl or Boy outside. Sooner or later, people see through that too.

What you actually need right now is a dose of catharsis. So let’s take some inspiration from the Frank Slade character played by Al Pacino in the movie Scent of a Woman. He really lets fly in this clip. It is worth a view.

Here’s the actual dialogue:

I’d take a…FLAMETHROWER to this place! Out of order? Who the hell do ya think you’re talking to? I’ve been around, ya know? There was a time I could see. And I have seen. Boys like these, younger than these. Their arms torn out, their legs ripped off. But there is nothing like the sight of an amputated spirit. There’s no prosthetic for that. You think you’re merely sending this splendid foot solder back home to Oregon with his tail between his legs, but I say you are executing his SOUL! And why? Because he’s not a Baird man. Baird man. You hurt this boy, you’re gonna be Baird bums, the lot of ya. And Harry, Jimmy, Trent, wherever you are, fuck you too!

Wall of bananas

HAPPY FUCK YOU DAY everyone!

So here’s wishing you all a Happy Fuck You Day. (HFYD…hell yeah, let’s make this an Internet Meme.) Rotten bananas would be a helluva good image for HFYD.

Perhaps the day after Columbus Day would be a good time. Old Columbus was the worldwide traveling King of Fuck You, if you ask me. He took no prisoners and he gave no quarter. Is that an admirable trait? Maybe so. He’s got a fucking day named after him despite being a murderous bastard.

Don’t settle

The real lesson here is to not settle for the cliches, people. As far as this writer is concerned, your weakest link fucking rocks no matter what it is. Just ask Jesus about that one, for he once said that the “meek shall inherit the earth.”

So how do you nicely say “fuck you” without really saying it? You look up at the guy who made the “weakest link” statement and tell him, “That’s not really helpful. Do you know anyone who knows about achilles tendons?”

Wall IceOr, you respond to the patronizingly false compliment when someone blurts a halfhearted “good for you” by looking them right in the eye and saying “Thank you. I really worked hard to make that happen.” Call their bluff. Make it real.

But just in case someone calls you the weakest link, take it to heart if there’s an element of truth or revelation in it. Then set out to prove them wrong any way you can. Wield your weakness like a fucking badge. Celebrate your humility. Be honest, and be bold. Take the lead on the next group ride and pull until you drop like a rock. Fail greatly, but test yourself and your soul. Then quietly go about the business of getting better. Because you know you can, once you get the cliched bullshit of trying to always be a leader out of the way. Or acting enthusiastic when you’re in pain and suffering. Or fucking squeezing lemons when someone promised you oranges.

Our advice is to start with a quick fuck you spoken under your breath…or when you’re out of range. Fuck you is always a great place to start when it comes to motivation. It cuts right through the cliches, for one thing. They’re the only thing actually holding you back.

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Liv Cycling’s newest Ambassador shares the joys of cycling and triathlon

Posted on February 16, 2015 by Christopher Cudworth

Sarah Cropped On BikeBy Christopher Cudworth

Sarah Wangerin Farsalas is a resident of Wheaton, Illinois. But that’s just a point of reference for the spectrum of highly mobile adventures in which she engages.

Farsalas is first and foremost a mother of three children. That keeps her plenty busy and active.

She is also a licensed massage therapist working with athletes and patients in rehabilitation and performance.

In her middle-mom years Sarah Farsalas is an accomplished triathlete that has qualified for national and world competitions in her chosen sport. This experience led her to become a coach through Experience Triathlon, a club based in Naperville, Illinois. In that role she counsels both beginning and advanced triathletes in the sport.

New roles

Recently Sarah was also selected as an ambassador for the Giant/Liv brand of cycling products. In that role she’ll be conducting clinics for the Midwest region focused on helping women participate in the sport of triathlons.

Pre-ride photo with friends Jada Butler and Russ Bautch

Pre-ride photo with friends Jada Butler and Russ Bautch

That new role is reflective of a larger trend toward increased female participation in endurance sports. Races all across America report more women than men competing in events such as marathons and half marathons.

The growth trend among women participating in triathlons is not quite as dramatic. Yet there is plenty of evidence that women are well suited physically and mentally to participate in endurance sports.

There are still legitimate barriers to participation by women in individual sports. Safety remains a genuine issue for women training alone, especially with the risks associated with cycling and running on public roads.

Liv Ambassador

That’s where the Liv Cycling Ambassador program comes into play. Liv is the women’s specific cycling division of Giant Cycling, one of the world’s premiere manufacturers of bicycles for recreation and performance.

PrintUsing her experience as a USA Triathlon Certified Coach and USA Cycling Certified Coach, Sarah Farsalas will be hosting a series of seminars in collaboration with Spokes Bikes in Wheaton (Danada Square) and Experience Triathlon. Each event will be designed to encourage women to participate in cycling and triathlons. Some will be more instructional while others more inspiration. These include:

  • Bikes, Beauty and Brains – Introduction to All Cycling Has to Offer to Women
  • Wine and Wrenches – Taking Care of our Bikes and Fixing Flats
  • Lines and Tires and Bikes, OH MY! Outdoor Riding
  • Training For Your First Triathlon
  • Nutrition Myths and Nutrition Truths and The Mental Game of Cycling

Cycling Journey

USCycling_Coach_official-logo-2010Sarah’s own story is inspirational. She began her love cycling during rides in the company of her father. They initially rode hybrid bikes, and Sarah even used her hybrid to complete her first triathlon.

So her love of the sport did not start out with high-tech gear and super-fast rides. Instead her love of cycling grew organically through the sense of freedom she felt while riding. Now she plans to pass along that love of riding and fitness to other women. “I think that sense of freedom is important,” she says. “But a lot of women are intimidated by being out on the roads, or are scared about it. I was lucky in having my dad to guide me. He taught me how to ride. I want to do that for other women interested in riding.”

Sarah cheeringAnd even though Sarah Farsalas has completed Ironman races that require 2.4 miles of swimming, 112 miles of cycling and 26.2 miles of running, her joy in coaching and encouraging athletes is not just about racing. “Some of my best experiences have been riding places like the Shenandoah Valley or out west in California.”

In other words, it’s the riding itself that counts, not just the racing.

With an impish grin and an artful flair in her sense personal style, it is difficult at times to imagine that such a determined athlete really does lurk beneath the flouncy skirts or an off-the-shoulder layered ensemble.

Sarah with friend and training companion Kurt Woodward at an ET function

Sarah with friend and training companion Kurt Woodward at an ET function

But that’s the dual message Farsalas delivers in her personal and professional life. It’s great to be a woman and it’s great to be an athlete too.

Her dedication has come with a price at times. She has herniated a disk that flares up on occasion, causing training breaks and visits to the chiropractor. But those challenges are common to all athletes pushing their bodies in endurance sports.

Testing and learning one’s limits are what attracts many women to endurance sports along with weight control, cardiovascular health and the all-important “me time” that comes with training alone or with friends.

It’s no wonder Sarah Farsalas was chosen to represent Liv Cycling. She’s come through many life challenges and has plenty of insight and experience to offer other women seeking confidence and the opportunity ride and run and swim at their own pace.

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The things that go through our head when climbing a really big hill

Posted on February 13, 2015 by Christopher Cudworth

Yeah. Our brains do weird things to us.
ClimbingAHill

Posted in Christopher Cudworth, cycling, duathlon, half marathon, marathon, running, triathlon, We Run and Ride Every Day | Tagged , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Seeing your way to better training and racing

Posted on February 12, 2015 by Christopher Cudworth
Freshman year. Long hair. Glasses.

Freshman year. Long hair. Glasses.

Between my junior year and senior year in college, I shaved an ugly 70s-version beard, cropped my hair from shoulder length to something more human than Sasquatch and got contact lenses to replace a pair of Coke-bottle glasses that weighed about 13 pounds.

That change in appearances was in large part responsible for an advance from 7th man on the cross country team to a consistent 2nd man for much of the season. Other circumstances including injuries to some valued teammates also had something to do with that. Yet the ability to step up when needed was the product of an enhanced self confidence.

It’s a fact. Athletes need to feel good about themselves to compete well. For me, emerging from behind that beard and a hood of hair so thick no hats were needed on winter days was good for my ego. Getting contact lenses put the capper on the makeover. Getting rid of those thick glasses provided both an emotional and physical boost. I was no longer pushing those large specs up my nose, for one thing. Who knows what sort of facial tension might have led to shoulder tightness, poor arm carriage and inefficiency.

Could big glasses really have that much impact on the human body? For certain. In my case it led to keeping my head up more. Even peripheral vision helps when racing, especially on the track, and most notably in my chosen event, the steeplechase. In close quarters going over hurdles with four or five competitors the last thing you need to worry about is a set of thick glasses clonking up and down on your face.

We all wore glasses bands back then. Those tended to pull your frames so tight on your face that your entire forehead would crease up. Not a good physical or mental scenario either.

Luther Cross Country

Third from left and happy to have contact lenses going into senior year in college.

So the freedom of running with contact lenses was liberating. It also helped that a pretty girl also was attracted to my newfound persona. We fell in love and that might not have happened if I was still doing my Napoleon Dynamite imitation.

The interesting thing about that change was returning to college in August and attending a fraternity party in the dorm. No one recognized me. That’s how profound the change really was.

There’s no doubt that the summer I got those contacts was an epiphany. Running for the first time since freshman year in high school without glasses stuck on my face was a sense of freedom too long missed. Of course there were lessons to learn about wearing hard contact lenses. The very first day I ran in them I wiped sweat from my left eye and did not notice for about 10 more strides that a contact lens had popped out. Tracing my steps back to where I thought I’d wiped my eye, I looked down at the ground and there it was. Just gleaming in the sun. Talk about luck.

First timer’s luck. There would be lost contacts in the future, of course. We all suffer that fate. My best friend lost his contact during a college cross country training trip in Wyoming. His eyes were really terrible. How he ran all those miles on mountain trails with just one eye is amazing.

I’m still wearing gas permeable hard contact lenses. They’re better than the plain hard contacts because they let the eye breathe a little. Not as slick and supple as soft lenses, of course. A long line of optometrists and opthalmology specialists have recommended that I stick (so to speak) with gas perm hard lenses because they supposedly keep the shape of my eye in place. With astigmatism the eye sort of goes oblong on you. So hard contacts are like orthotics for the eyeball.

Or so they tell me. One summer I lost a contact lens and all the eye doctor had in stock for temporary lenses was a set of soft contact lenses. That meant I had to learn how to put them in and take them out. It wasn’t that hard (ba dommm teeessssh) compared to hard lenses.

Even with contact lenses I need to remember to look where I'm going. Last summer's collision with a tree was the result of riding with my head down. Even contacts can't help you then.

Even with contact lenses I need to remember to look where I’m going. Last summer’s collision with a tree was the result of riding with my head down. Even contacts can’t help you then.

And what a difference in feel! Where my hard lenses consistently feel dry or contact-y, the soft lenses were like having a naked eye that could see. There was just one problem. While cycling a slight downhill at 30 miles an hour one of the lenses started to lift up from my eye due to the backdraft around my sunglasses. I could see that lens flapping and trying to pull free. So I slowed the bike and stopped to flip the floppy lens back in place.

Yes, there are ways to avoid all this hassle with lenses of any sort. Lasik surgery works and my friends have gotten it. Some love it. Some are a bit disappointed. They all still require reading glasses.

As I flirt with events such as swimming in the triathlon the whole Lasik thing starts to make a ton more sense. After all, the contact lens that I lost that led to getting the soft lenses that summer was the result of a swim lesson. I don’t recall if I had not worn goggles or what. But no one is about to find a blue contact lens on the bottom of a pool. Much less the bottom of a lake, or an ocean.

So I reside in a world in which my contact lenses have indeed made my vision and training and racing so much better. But contacts do have their limits. They are one of the tarsnakes of modern human existence. A blessing and a curse.

Lenses over lenses. That's how we see the world.

Lenses over lenses. That’s how we see the world.

It’s a strange thing to consider that this thin layer of glass or plastic is what enables me to see better and do the sports I love. Oh that my parents would have agreed to get me contact lenses for basketball in high school. So many pairs of bent and shattered glasses. And how those glasses confined my peripheral vision.

But times were different then. Only after I got out of college did I learn the glories of playing hoops without glasses. And my game continued to improve.

About two weeks ago I went to sleep without removing my contacts before bed. That was the first time I’d ever done that in 40 years of wearing contact lenses. I woke to a fuzzy world because my eyes were caking over with proteins. Yet I could still see. It dawned on me what I’d done. Fortunately there was no pain resulting from the mistake.

Before that the only other incident resulted from a long day spent with my college girlfriend that did not wind up until 1:00. I was at her house and could not stay the night, but my contact lenses were painfully dry and sore. Driving home like that was almost unthinkable, so I plucked the contacts out to try seeing without them. My eyes could see perfectly even without the contacts. The lenses had constricted my eyes so long they were sort of “stuck in place” and there was no need for glasses or contacts.

That’s sort of the principle of Lasik. They go in there and pinch up your eye a bit and you can see better. I got home safely that night. But by the time I’d slept through the night my vision had returned to normal. Which was bad.

Our eyes are the window to the world. We layer them with all sorts of glass and plastic to see.

Our eyes are the window to the world. We layer them with all sorts of glass and plastic to see.

It goes to prove that all of life is something of an illusion. Seeing or not seeing well is not just a need. It’s also a choice. I admired my blind friend that could run with his dog years ago. His blindness did not keep him home. It did not define who he was.

We tend to take our visual abilities for granted, those of us who run and ride and swim. But perhaps today you should open your eyes to the fact that seeing is also believing. We love to run and ride and swim because, in the end, we all love to see things. To experience things. To move and to see and feel that movement is to be alive.

And I hope you can see that.

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Why entering a race sometimes just doesn’t register

Posted on February 12, 2015 by Christopher Cudworth

The Horribly Hilly is an immensely popular ride in southern Wisconsin. Event demand is so strong organizers hold a lottery each year to determine who gets in. A few years back it cost $10 just to enter this lottery. Back then if you did not get into the race, that money was not refunded.

If 2000 people submitted $10 entry fees and were not admitted to the race that generated a quick $20K for the event. Talk about no obligation fund-raising! Most events would just call it a day at that. Thanks for the money, folks. See you next year.

They’ve changed their policies now. The Horrible Hilly still has a lottery, but they no longer charge for it. And it’s a great event by all accounts.

But hey, if a lottery works, there are probably a bunch of other ways to conduct race registration that are just as creative. Here are a few suggestions:

ONLINE SLOT MACHINES

jackpot

People love to play games online! Instead of a lottery you can set up an web and mobile app in which entrants pull a digital lever and watch the slots whirr and ding. If it comes up three bikes for a cycling event or three running shoes for a marathon, you’re in!

CONTESTANT BEAUTY CONTESTS

miss-usa_1638697f

Who says life or entry registration has to be fair? Races that only desire to have beautiful people enrolled should have web-based beauty contests. The model for voting already exists on sites such as Reddit/r/gonewild. Why not turn our races and rides into things of real beauty?

AMERICAN IDLE

Rent out a big stadium. Invite tons of people from an area to get tickets and stand around for hours or even days waiting for their chance at fame. The people who give up and leave are the losers. Those willing to stand idle for that long deserve to get into the event. That’s how American Idol works, isn’t it?

THE “NOT REALLY AN EVENT” REGISTRATION SCAM

Scam1-1024x768If you set up a really nifty website for a race that does not really exist, with all the perks, bells and whistles athletes love such as free performance tees and amazing goody bags, it’s not hard to get people to pay $150 just for the right to run 5K with a bunch of other fools. So you take all their registration fees and send them an “I’m sorry this event has been cancelled” and make it really hard to get their money back. Actually, there are people out there that really do this. And they suck.

Well, that sums up our creative look at ways to conduct event registration with something other than a faceless lottery. We hope you found these tips useful and fun. Except for the last one. That really does suck.

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Omigod there’s a body in there!

Posted on February 10, 2015 by Christopher Cudworth

YogaWell the Christian blogger lady got her day in the sun. She stood up for purity of mind in her fashion. Refusing to wear yoga pants without something to cover up her butt is noble indeed.

She’s got a right to worry that her husband might look at other women and be moved to lustful thoughts. That other men might look at her own derriere with sex on their minds.

She’s got a right. But she may have it all wrong.

There’s a whole world out there she and her ilk want to ignore. It’s a world moving beyond the idea that yoga pants are even an issue.

See, there’s this thing called sports. Additionally there are these things called cycling and running and swimming and triathlons. There are a whole lot of women wearing a lot less than yoga pants doing these sports. They’ve learned to appreciate their own bodies not just for what they look like, but what they can do.

It’s a rather “in your face” moment for any man when he realizes that the gal in the bikini bottoms just dusted his ass during the run portion of a triathlon. Or a 10k. Or a local criterium for that matter.

At that moment a guy can certainly admire the shape of a woman and have lustful thoughts. But he must also reckon with the fact that he is not the one who controls how that woman views herself.

yoga-pantsThat’s true for other women as well. The very competitive world of female appearance has a lot of variations. There are skinny models and plus size models competing for ownership of female body image. There are movie stars like Jamie Lee Curtis going honest about the ruse of being a sex symbol.

Recently a friend of mine posted an image of a Dancing With the Stars model on Facebook. She classily encouraged him in his appreciation at meeting her. See, he’s long been facing a life-threatening disease. His male friends and some female friends picked up on the lighthearted thrill of an encounter with a beautiful dancer. But a few jumped in to defend his wife from any perceived jealousy at the idea of her husband ogling the comely dancer. She wore a sexy dress. And omigod there’s a body in there!

In truth the world is finally coming to grips with the fact that having a body and even showing it off is not a sin. While the world of pornography is not exactly a happy place in some quarters due to human trafficking and abusive behaviors, there’s also a whole world of people out there snapping pictures of themselves naked because its fun. It teaches us something about ourselves and body image.

In many respects this widespread exhibitionism is performing an important role for society. In Europe where nude beaches are both legal and practical, public nudity is no big deal. In that context of body honesty, yoga pants are not anything prurient at all. It’s the taboo perception that they are revealing that is the real problem here.

Which is why women wearing running bras in public is no longer a problem at all. The taboo with such apparel has been removed by the practical necessity. It’s rather like society is saying, “So women have boobs. So what?”

We all have parts. Some people consider them naughty. That’s their weird little problem. Just go to a triathlon transition zone and watch whether people are concerned about their genitals. Quite the opposite. And while women may behave a bit more discreetly in such situations, while men still tend to be naked like pigs, those are issues that have their own rules and decorum. It’s not about the nakedness, but how you carry it.

what-to-wear-with-yoga-pantsHang around enough female athletes and you’ll find a patent honesty in their regard for the bodies of other women. You’ll hear things like, “I wish I had her ass.” Or, “She’s got nice boobage.” To the credit of so many women, they realize that appreciation is not always sexualization. Soon enough, that model (no pun intended) becomes adopted by men as well. Pretty soon men and women are working out together wearing whatever they want and sex is not at the forefront of their minds.

Sure, there are always hormones flying around. Women aren’t immune either. Far from it. Where else did the term Man Meat come from?

By the time any one of us views enough selfies in all their forms, we come to realize that there are far more banal similarities between us than prurient definitions. Even the celebrity Fappening in which the iCloud accounts of stars like Jennifer Lawrence and Reese Witherspoon (to name a couple) were hacked, it all pointed out that even these famous people aren’t all that creative or compelling in their body explorations.

That’s the real message here. That making yoga pants into some symbol for lust is not some great insight. What’s the alternative, dressing women in burkas? There was a time when just the sight of an ankle sent men’s heart’s racing. But an ankle truly is no different than a breast if you build enough maturity into your viewpoint. It’s one of the tarsnakes of existence that we have these bodies and have to figure out what to do with them. We work to make them better and what, go into hiding?

So rather than take this naively childish approach to biblical interpretation in which we’re supposed to tear our eyes out rather than consider the shape of another human being, let’s stop and think for a moment. Could “pluck out your eye” just as easily mean remove the source of lust at its root? Perhaps, God Forbid, it’s really intended to convey that pleasuring yourself may be an acceptable way to pluck lust out of your eye and out of your heart.

I once had a doctor tell me that frequent sex was good for my prostate. “Great,” I responded. “Want to write me a prescription for that?”

He laughed, but he was also serious. “Take care of yourself if you have to,” he admonished.

This whole repression thing never really works out the way it is supposed to anyway. All those preachers and self-righteous politicians decrying sex while secretly engaging in all sorts of shenanigans prove the point over and over again. Dealing with sexual outlooks in a healthy way is far better than trying to keep it all in, only to succumb in some massive way.

The great Coming Out of the human body both male and female needs to continue. It’s time to stop with the immature approach with regard to what’s underneath our clothes.

“Omigod there’s a body in there!” How many billions of times do we have to say that before it’s no longer a surprise? That’s insane.

Athletes are truly leading the way in this regard. Building a healthy image also helps you regard others in a similar way. So strip down, work out and stop worrying about what’s underneath the yoga pants. It’s a body. Get over it.

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