Chamois fan

If you are a cycling enthusiast, read on. If you are cycling-curious, read on. If you would rather stand in a pile of ants than get on a bike, this blog post is not for you.

Let’s talk about a thing called a chamois. Curious word. I thought a chamois was a soft cloth that teenaged boys used to massage their cars. I was correct (I know this because I looked it up; thank you dictionary-dot-com). It is also a curved pad made from foam or gel that you insert into your biking shorts before a long ride, so that you don’t call 9-1-1 afterwards because you’re pretty sure your bum bones have splintered.

A chamois can be inserted manually into biking shorts a la maxi-pad style, or, more frequently, the thing is just sewn right in to either biking shorts or biking underwear. (Chamois butter is a thing, too, but best left for another post.)

Matt and I are going to take a long bike ride in June. We will be on our bikes for six days. And that, my friends, is why I’ve gotten interested in a chamois.

A bit of my biking history … I have three bikes. I bought the first one when I started dating Matt because I wanted to impress my hot new boyfriend. I knew he loved biking, and I wanted to spend more time with him, so I bought a fitness bike and rode through my neighborhood at dusk and on weekends to practice. I learned how to stop without toppling over and wear a helmet so that it didn’t look like a beret (I still struggle with that one).

It’s a great little bike, but it has zero suspension, so I feel every bump in my shoulder blades and spine. After a year or two of riding my cute little paint-shaker, I swung far in the opposite direction (story of my life) and bought a full-suspension mountain bike.

People. It’s like riding my sofa. This was a whole new world for me. I could go many, many more miles, for certain, but my speed suffered. The thing weighs a ton. But Matt asked me to marry him when I was riding that bike, so I will love and cherish it as long as we both shall live.

Matt bought me my third bike when we lived in Hawaii. We were facing months of uncertainty about cancer, so he put me on an upright hybrid with a super soft saddle. It’s the ultimate tootle bike. One day, I’m going to attach a basket to the front handlebars and frequent neighborhood farmers’ markets. But I’m not ready to declare full-time granny status quite yet. So, for now, she’s my go-to for picnics and selfie-stops.

Back to our six day bike ride. I need to train. And the best bike for that is my first bike, that fast little chick that has not a shred of forgiveness in her joints. (She and I are alike that way.)

And this is why, on Saturday afternoon, I went to Orange Cycle in search of a chamois. I didn’t want attention from a sales clerk, so that I could choose padded underwear with my dignity intact. I optimistically grabbed a pair of mediums from a sale rack and headed for a fitting room. After a full five minutes of struggling to cram an elephant into a Volkswagon, I noticed a helpful little poster on the wall that read, “How to try on biking shorts.”

Thank you, God in heaven. Evidently, this is a thing.

Step one: “Bring three pairs into the fitting room: your usual size, one size up, and one size down.”

I was in my underwear, at this point, my knees welded together by the biking shorts. They were nowhere near my thighs, much lest my waist. I thought about calling out to Matt for more sizes, but again. Dignity. The pair in hand would have to do.

Back to the poster. After some knee lifts to “warm up the lycra,” I finally hoisted the mediums into place. As suggested, I sat down. I squatted. I assumed my biking position. The shorts didn’t move, nor did the seams splay. Success.

I bought the padded underwear. I wore them on a thirty-seven mile ride Sunday (take that, road bikers!). And my you-know-what feels fine.

Now, I have to point out, the shorts are not flattering. Imagine a middle-aged woman with a diaper under her shorts. Not pretty. Plus, the chamois is so wide, I feel like I’ve got a squishy dinner plate between my legs. But you know what? The chamois worked. I sat down after the ride, even in a hard-seated chair, without wincing.

The particulars: I got lucky on my first try-on of padded underwear. Thank goodness, or I likely would have bolted. I bought Louis Garneau Women’s 2002 Undershorts Cycling Liner on sale at a local bike shop for $24.99. The best price I could find online was Dick’s Sporting Goods for $34.99 (free shipping).

By the way, there are a zillion factors to consider when buying padded shorts or underwear or what have you. Foam or gel, regular shorts or a liner, cost, creams, suspenders … eye-yie-yie. This article gave me a sense of the basics.

In the end (hehe)? I’m a chamois fan. The only remaining question is where I can buy them in bulk.