THE UL­TI­MATE CON­FES­SION

Bicycling (South Africa) - - My Bikes - – Louis Maz­zante, dig­i­tal di­rec­tor

Some­times, I don’t want to ride. On rainy and cold days, of course I would rather sit in my comfy red lounge chair, drink cof­fee, and read a mag while watch­ing my kids do puzzles and play Hun­gry Hun­gry Hip­pos. Also (less fre­quently, but still) on bright sunny days when I’m sup­posed to meet friends who have been plan­ning a par­tic­u­lar ride for days or weeks, I will some­times give it a miss. On those days, I might play kung fu with my kids, watch rugby, or – weirdly – mow the grass. This doesn’t hap­pen of­ten, but it has hap­pened enough that friends and col­leagues coined a term for it: ‘Maz­zan out’.

Is un­wa­ver­ing al­le­giance to the ride re­quired to call one­self a rider? Must each vi­o­la­tion be paid for with cy­clist cred? It def­i­nitely feels that way when thumb­ing through the fire­hose of stoke pour­ing from my In­sta feed. But I don’t feel much need for pen­i­tent re­flec­tion. I can chill today and ride to­mor­row. Bal­ance, right? It’s okay to em­brace the joy of miss­ing a ride. I see your #FOMO and raise you a lit­tle #JOMO.

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