What kind of biker am I?

Sometimes, as I look all my biking friends, I think what kind of biker am I? They all seem to fit in comfortably. What subgroup in the diverse biking culture do I fit in? 

Most of my biking is my daily commute. I call myself a bike commuter. But what does that mean? There are all types of bike commuters. 

I just did the Pacific Northwest's premiere one-day ultra-marathon cycling event, so maybe I'm an ultra-marathon cyclist. But no - I think that was a one-and-done kind of thing. Like my running marathon. It was fun, and I'm really glad I did it, but it's not going to become a lifestyle.

I bike through the winter. Here we go. I am a winter-biker. I like that - makes me a little more unique. A little set apart from the masses. But that's just arrogant - something to feed my ego. Plus - what am I the other 9 months of the year?

I've done more trail riding this summer than any other year, and I really like it. But I don't think I qualify to call myself a mountain biker.

I have a bunch of bike jerseys, so I could look the part of a serious road biker if I wanted to, but I really don't have any interest in racing.  I like watching Le Tour, but I don't really identify with anyone who wants to pursue that kind of racing.

Maybe I'm an urban biker.  Some people don't like riding downtown. The cars really make them nervous. I love it. Yeah, they make me nervous too, but it doesn't bother me. I've got a smile on my face in downtown traffic as much as I do out in the country. Plus, I have plaid socks and a beard, so that makes me kind of hipster, right? Did I mention I ride fixed-gear in the winter? Have I finally found my niche? Not sure.  I don't have the guts to use the correct finger when someone asks me how many gears I have. Plus, I'm twice the age of everyone else in this category.  Nothing wrong with that, but it makes it hard to feel real connected.  Maybe if I moved from Edina to Uptown...  

OK, I admit that I don't really lose sleep over these issues. Because I've discovered a few things about my biking friends. 

Number one is: Fitting in is not required. And it's a good thing because I don't think any of us would.  And the ironic thing is - once you realize this - that's when you start fitting in. Because that's when you just get comfortable being yourself. And it turns out - that's the you that people like the most.

So here's a quick story about wanting to "fit in" - and then we'll call this post a wrap.

Earlier this spring, on a cold March day, Tim and I drove to the edge of town for a group ride called the Slick 50. We were in separate vehicles, but the bikes were both on Tim's car. So when I parked, I jumped out of my car and quickly strapped on my helmet so I could help Tim get the bikes down. The 'quickly' part comes into the story momentarily...

We rode into town where the group was gathering at One on One. Most people didn't know me. But Hurl, who organizes the annual ride, recognized me and complimented me on my helmet. "Hey John. Nice helmet". For a brief second I wondered if it was possible that he really did like my helmet. Then he kindly pointed out that I had my helmet on backwards. I laughed. Everyone laughed. Story over. But on the inside I was incredibly embarrassed. Here's the old fat guy trying to fit in, so what does he do? He shows up at a ride with his helmet on backwards. Ugh.  (Note: it was cold enough for us all to be wearing winter hats under our helmets, so it was hard to feel that something was wrong. That said, I've never seen another rider with their helmet on backwards...)

If I had to fit in - I wouldn't fit, trust me. And the more I tried, the more obvious it would become. But guess what? No one else would fit in either. We're all odd in our own special way. So it's fortunate there's no need to fit in. With every ride and post-ride beer, we just celebrate our love of biking together.

I don't know what kind of biker I am.  I just know I'm almost always happy when I'm on a bike. And in those rare instances where I'm on a bike and not happy, it would be even worse if I were not on a bike.

And this simple shared joy seems to be all that is required to be welcome in all of my various biking circles. And for that, I say thank you to all my biking friends.