On snot

High in fiber, low in fat.

We stood around the parking lot at the Travilah store, a country market at a popular crossroads frequented by cyclists and other passersby. The Bunny nibbled lightly on a pretzel and sipped some water as a bunny will do, while I hoovered up a Cliff's bar that more than anything resembled some large animal's scat, and drained half a Podium Ice bottle's worth of Lipton instant iced tea. The days are getting cold so we are encumbered by tights, jackets and gloves, our movements constrained by layer upon layer of lycra, spandex and wool. Delicate maneuvers are out of the question and it can be a chore just performing the most basic actions necessary to get from Point A to Point B.

As I stood there chatting with my 60 year-old companion, a line of snot traced its way slowly down her lip and I, myself a bit of a mucus monster elected to not mention it. Even when this otherwise tidy woman, a mother and teacher of young children who has no doubt spent countless hours wiping the noses of others, unceremoniously wiped the slug across her face with the sleeve of her jersey, I took no obvious notice, though the event set me to thinking.

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snot

noun

1.Vulgar . mucus from the nose.

2.Informal . a disrespectful or supercilious person.

Origin: 1350–1400; Middle English;  compare Middle Low German,
Middle Dutch snotte, Old English gesnot, Danish snot

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Athletic activities, perhaps particularly endurance events, are specifically designed to push the athlete far beyond the comfortable state in which most of us exist most of the time. When we set out to ride a bike a hundred miles or climb a mountain or run a marathon we are intentionally setting a goal that will test our abilities, a challenge at which we may even fail. And for some reason we love it. I guess we hope to learn something about ourselves as we transcend our limits. Or maybe not. I don't know. All I know is that to be a strong cyclist is to at least occasionally find yourself covered with

I had a riding buddy many years ago who was known for hocking snot rockets over his shoulder as he rode. At one point or another, if you rode with him, you would inevitably be the recipient of a sinus shower. And despite numerous attempts to get him to cut it out, he could never shake the habit. Eventually I just resolved to become a better rider and never let myself get stuck behind him. Easier said than done, as he was pretty strong. But eventually prevailed.

Now all of us on the bike have to deal with our nostralular eminations, and I am not trying in any way to imply that I am not just as disgusting as my fellow slime spewers. Though I hope I have at least a little more situational awareness than some. A few years ago I developed my own technique for ridding myself of unwanted nasal phlegm while riding. It's not perfect, but it worked. I would pinch out the snot between thumb and forefinger of my right hand and with a fluid (ha!) motion flick the unmentionable down at roughly a 45° angle toward the ground just off the road's edge. I would then wipe the hand on the left armpit of my jersey. With luck no residual residue would slather my riding companions. A suitable technique though by no means perfect.

Then, while riding from Venice to Florence in the company of  a couple of Aussies, I noticed that one of them kept a wadded up handkerchief tucked into one of the legs of his shorts. Ingenious! A handkerchief! Why didn't I think of that? Probably because throughout most of my cycling life I've been overly influenced by what is 'Pro' and believe me, professional cyclists don't carry hankies. But I'm not a pro cyclist, so I now do and should you ever chance to take my wheel, I assure you, there will be no loogies hocked your way.