Do I Ride Like a Girl?
Ever since I was very young, my womanness has been instilled in me by many powerful forces in my life. I grew up hearing tales of my mother’s various feats in triathlons and marathons, some of which she’d ran with a stroller holding two little babies. My mom has always been a runner, and when I was five, had me running the 200 meter race at Disney World on her marathon weekend (where my brother and I did cross the finish line holding hands… we sure knew how to turn on the charm then). I mustn’t have been much older when she gifted me a dri-fit shirt she bought at a marathon expo that read “I run like a girl, try to keep up.” This quickly became one of my favorite shirts (along with another that I called my “sticky bug shirt”), and I wore it as often as I could… until I grew too big for it. Little did I know, this would be the first of many moments that I fulfilled what I knew to be the definition of femininity.
Since childhood, I’ve steadily leaned into such feminine items. I, too, now consider myself to be a runner, as well as a hiker and a bit of a dirtbag. My favorite hobbies usually entail me ending up some varying degree of gross. Because of this, taking on a few-month-long cycling trip seemed rather feasible in my eyes. It seemed like a longer version of challenges I had taken on in the past, and I knew I was capable. I can only credit this to the likeness of my mother. However, it’s been rather eye-opening to see just how many folks disagree with this sentiment, or rather, disagree with my idea of femininity or womanhood. It’s also bewildering how many people share these thoughts directly with us.
Every touring bikepacker knows the predictability of events when stopping at a store to resupply. For those of you that have never toured, let me paint you a picture. You hop off your bike, catch a few glances from the locals, then peruse the store in your smelliest padded shorts, meticulously choosing the lightest but hardiest foods the store has to offer. You check out, make small talk with the cashier as they ask whether you’re on a camping trip or if you just eat like that, and head back out to your bike to start the lovely task of re-packing. You sure hope that extra bag of Sour Patch Kids will find a spot somewhere. As you’re finally getting it all to fit, you hear “You must be on a long journey!” or “Where ya headed?” And thus, a conversation you’ve had twice already this week is born… again.
These conversations start off well, and the strangers we encounter are usually impressed by our grand plans, but if it’s any Jim, John, or Joe from Smalltown, USA, we can almost count on the inevitable to happen. In one swift blow, he somehow both lifts me up and tears me down to my lowest.
“Three girls like you are taking on a trip like this?”
Suddenly, the kid in her “I run like a girl” t-shirt has flames in her eyes, wondering what this random person could possibly mean in imposing such a flawed opinion on her and two of the strongest women in her life.
“I’m just not man enough,” he continues, and I laugh, more so because I can never figure out a strong response that also avoids an awkward interaction. A million and one thoughts run through my mind as I feel my cheeks turning red, the most prominent being the frustration of knowing our male counterparts do not get these gendered remarks. Instead, they are consistently met with exclusively high praise and compliments, not a mention of the sex they were assigned at birth. I can only then wonder what makes a man say such things to my friends and I. Is it a concern for our safety, or is it that he feels threatened by three women who are taking on a venture that he wouldn’t dare even dream of?
Now, don’t get me wrong, I tend to enjoy most of the interactions we have in front of a Safeway. The folx we have them with are usually genuine and mean well, and I sincerely think that these conversations are the most clean-cut representations of average Americans that we’ll get (everyonehas to go to the grocery store after all). It’s just that I wonder how these individuals have come to spend their lives with these ideologies, how no one has yet to shut them down, and how they can unknowingly do so much harm by sharing them. I wonder how they’ve come to these opinions in the first place, whether it was something set in the household or whether our education systems are failing them. I wonder if whether or not they know that women outcompete men in endurance sports and that the world records for numerous ultramarathons are held by women. Most of all, I can hope they know how strong the women in their lives are, I hope we all do.
These comments sure have made me reflect quite a bit on the powerful women in my life. Thank you mom, for instilling this fierce femininity in me. I couldn’t possibly take on a trip like this without you paving the way for me. I love you. And thank you Sarah and Anne, for always showing up and proving your strength each and every day, not only to cycle, but to uplift and support our group. I love you both too much.
