Coffee, Coffee, Coffee
(You’ve got to sing it, kind of like the “I am evil Ho-mer” song from the Simpsons)
Don’t know why, but there’s an indelible link in my head between coffee and cycling. My best guess is that they’re both things that give me pleasure, but I really, really like a sizzling slab o’ beef, and I’d never associate beef fondly with cycling.
But the association is there. It could be an image thing – the stereotype in my mind is of Europeans hanging out in coffee shops, smoking cigarettes, looking cool, and getting around on bikes.
It could be a completely abstract association with camping. Camping and cycling both being activities that get me out in the fresh, cool air at the crack of frackin’ dawn, while the dew is fresh and the world is idyllic and still. And coffee providing warmth and the little bit of bitterness that cuts through the sickly sweet treacle of beautiful mornings.
Or it could be a performance thing – a little bit of caffeine does provide a performance boost that outstrips the diuretic effect.
Regardless, rides are better with a cuppa before, and a cup and saucer (Yeah, it’s one of my freaky quirks – for whatever reason, I prefer a dainty cup and saucer to a mug) of fresh, black coffee tastes that much better if I’ve just recently gotten off of the bike.
Even more so if I’m wobbling through a coffee shop on cleats and stinky…