I thought all of these were pretty persuasive, but perhaps the most MOVING (get it?!?) is that it will help you make #2 (number two):
4. Boost your bowels
According to experts from Bristol University, the beneﬁts of cycling extend deep into your core. “Physical activity helps decrease the time it takes food to move through the large intestine, limiting the amount of water absorbed back into your body and leaving you with softer stools, which are easier to pass,” explains Harley Street gastroenterologist Dr Ana Raimundo.
In addition, aerobic exercise accelerates your breathing and heart rate, which helps to stimulate the contraction of intestinal muscles. “As well as preventing you from feeling bloated, this helps protect you against bowel cancer,” Dr Raimundo says.
If the Nobel Prize committee is worth a darn they'll recognize Harley Street gastroenterologist Dr. Ana Raimundo for her tireless research, which apparently involved making people ride bikes a bunch and then sit on the toilet.
I'm not sure I agree with the "preventing you from feeling bloated" part though, since apparently Dr. Raimundo has never experienced the stomach-distending effects of consuming Clif Bars and gels.
Here's another great reason to ride the bicycle bikes:
20. Make creative breakthroughs
Writers, musicians, artists, top executives and all kinds of other professionals use exercise to solve mental blocks and make decisions – including Jeremy Paxman, Sir Alan Sugar and Spandau Ballet. A study found that just 25 minutes of aerobic exercise boosts at least one measure of creative thinking. Credit goes to the ﬂow of oxygen to your grey matter when it matters most, sparking your neurons and giving you breathing space away from the muddle and pressures of ‘real life’.
Wow, that's quite a list of creative people they've assembled. Apparently Jeremy Paxman is "the question master of University Challenge," which is only meaningful to Americans who have that "Young Ones" episode with Motörhead, and which I suppose makes him the British Alex Trebek. (It's worth noting that Alex Trebek is Canadian, which means there isn't actually an American Alex Trebek, because few if any Americans possess the necessary intellectual gravitas to host a game show that doesn't involve 5th graders or running really fast with shopping carts. The only reason the United States still allows Canada to exist is that we need a steady supply of smart people.) As for Sir Alan Sugar, I had to look him up too, and he's basically the London version of your typical ridiculously wealthy self-made Jew, which is old hat if you're a New Yorker. Most impressive though is Spandau Ballet, and I'm assuming since they're mentioned collectively that the band always rides in toto. The blistering speed of the Spandau Ballet paceline is legendary, and the "Huh-huh-huh-huuuh-huuuh..." from their international mega-hit "True" was inspired by a sigh emitted at the top of an "epic" climb.
Sadly, the list omits several notable personages who also experienced moments of world-changing inspiration as a direct result of sticking a bicycle in their crotches, including:
(Came up with the theory of relativity while trackstanding.)
George W. Bush
(Realized after leaving office that he totally would have cleared that 'War on Terror' section on a 29er.)
Sadly, if Albert Einstein were still with us today, everybody would give him a bunch of crap for not wearing a helment, which would have inspired this theorum:
Speaking of lists, in the past week there have been at least two motor vehicle-related incidents in New York City that are so depressing I can't even bring myself to link to them. The short version is that in one instance someone got killed on the sidewalk by a driver who supposedly passed out due to diabetes, and in another someone got maimed on the sidewalk by a parallel parker who supposedly mistook the gas pedal for the brake.
It should go without saying that both of these are perfectly valid excuses in New York, and the only reason the parallel parker is in any trouble at all is that he proceeded to flee the scene. (You also don't get in trouble for fleeing the scene in New York, but only if the person you ran down was riding a bike.) Still, it never hurts to have a few more excuses at the ready, so here's a list fresh new excuses so you can renew your licence to kill:
"I suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder."
Don't worry, it's not necessary to be a war veteran to use this one. Thanks to the fact that we live in a psychotic country with a crumbling infrastructure pretty much everybody has valid reason to be a post-traumatic stress disorder sufferer. Show me an American who hasn't been in close proximity to a school shooting, crippling natural disaster, or horrendous auto "accident" in recent months and I'll show you a Dutchman. And don't be afraid to rule out your own poor decision-making as a reason for your stress! So you hopped on the LIE during a monster snowstorm and were forced to spend the night in your car? There's your PTSD!
"I was lulled into a trancelike state by the rhythmic thrumming of my windshield wipers."
Shifting blame onto the auto maker is always a wise move, but what if you don't own a Toyota? Well, I don't know about you, but I think equipping cars with metronomic windshield wipers is grossly irresponsible, and as far as I know all automakers do it. There you are waiting at a light, and the next thing you know the back-and-forth, back-and-forth coupled with the grey weather has transported you into a reverie and suddenly there's a cyclist under your front bumper. This excuse will be valid at least until the automakers start installing new "alert wipers" that sound like an Elvin Jones drum solo.
"Siri is a fucking idiot."
Thanks to draconian laws that prohibit you from using your smartphone while driving, you may find yourself forced to use hands-free technology. If you have an iPhone this might include using Siri, which will inevitably play out thusly:
You: "Siri, I need directions to Hackensack."
Siri: "You said 'I have a hairy sack.'"
You: "No. Siri, I need to get to Hackensack."
Siri: "Got it. Looking up instructions for shaving your sack."
And so on. Not only is this a great excuse for running people over, but you also have grounds for a lucrative suit against Apple--especially if you also emasculate yourself in a tragic shaving accident.
In other news, yesterday I mentioned crabon, and that could be the reason I received this email from some PR firm about a flask for douchebags:
The Macallan, the luxury whisky brand, is launching a limited edition flask as part of a unique design collaboration with Oakley on the 27th February. Made of Carbon Fibre, the Flask is almost indestructible and with only 500 available it is sure to become a collectors item.
Please note all information is under embargo until 00.01am 27th February and the video will not be live in the public domain until 2pm tomorrow. Let me know if you would like any further information or hi-res images.
Yeah, right, "collectors item" my scranus--though this should go great with your Tapout sweatshirt. It also makes a great groomsman's gift if you're having a Fred wedding, in which case you're also going to want a crabon wedding ring, forwarded by a reader:
When I think of two bike dorks being bound in Fredly matrimony and exchanging crabon fiber rings I actually tear up a bit, but only because it's so depressing. Hopefully they can keep the passion alive--which, as it happens, is the only thing keeping Italian bike racing going:
Speaking of passion, here's another one of those dirty bike maintenance videos:
BITCHY TUTORIAL VOL.3 "SADDLE UP" from GASH-ROUGE on Vimeo.
Remember to use plenty of lube, or else it can get stuck in there.