Someone left a comment on one of my stories recently saying it was a “non-story.” The implication was that there was nothing to it. No gnar. No epic. No story.
Being the thick-skinned, grizzled (read old and sadly needy) journalist that I am, I just let it roll off my chiseled calf.
But then I got to thinking. There are complete magazines devoted to “the gnar” and plenty of people tell tales of the gravel in their teeth and fat tire feats of wonder. Why can’t I be the Seinfeld of outdoor tales? The story teller with no story. The non-story story hour of power.
Anyway, this whole crazy line of thinking started a couple days ago as I stared into my medicine cabinet at my big, glorious tub of Assos Chamois Cream.
I was headed out on a bike ride with my wife and there was going to be nothing epic about it. It was going to be part recovery and part shopping trip.
As I stared at the white tub of minty fresh goo, I wondered to myself, “was this ride going to be ‘cream worthy?'” Not unlike the episode of Seinfeld where Elaine was hoarding boxes of the sponge and wondered if Putty was “sponge worthy.”
I know it seems kind of silly, but I don’t slather my nether region on every ride and I’m not exactly sure why. Maybe I save the undercarriage lubrication for special rides, or maybe it has to be of a particular length or I have to be in a particular mood. Whatever the reason, it’s a game day decision as to whether or not I slather.
Now I have tried and can highly recommend the Rapha Chamois Creme and DZ Nuts, but at the moment the Assos nut butter is my big ride smear. It’s the Junior Mint of chamois cream and very refreshing.
At the end of a ride, when I hit the shower to wash away the day’s sweat and rub my sore muscle back to some semblance of happiness, the Assos makes my private parts tingle in a reassuring way letting me know everything is going to be ok.