A friend just upload this to the Club Mud forums. Here's the link to the site he found it on: https://mail.prairienet.org/pipermail/nbc/2006-July/000825.html. I thought it was pretty funny and wanted to share it with my Bike Diva readers.
You Know You're Addicted to Cycling When:
Your surgeon tells you need a heart valve replacement and you ask if you have a choice between presta and schrader.
A measurement of 44-36-40 doesn't refer to the latest Playboy centerfold, but that new gear ratio you were considering for your Cobra.
A Power Bar starts tasting better than a Snickers.
The bra your significant other finds in your glove compartment belongs to your Trek and not the cute waitress at Denny's.
You wear your heart monitor to bed to make sure you stay within your target zone during any extracurricular activities.
The funeral director tells you "NO!" you can't ride your Cannondale in the funeral procession, even if you keep your headlight on.
You experience an unreasonable envy over someone who has bar end extenders longer than yours.
You're too tired for hanky-panky on a Friday night but pump out a five-hour century on Saturday.
Your wife tells you the only way she'll let you ride across the country is over her dead body and you tell her, "If that's the case, you'll be my first speed bump!"
You no longer require a hankie to blow your nose.
You have stopped even trying to explain to your spouse why you need two bikes...you just go buy another one and figure it will all work out in the divorce settlement.
You buy your crutches instead of renting.
You convert your car's brake and gas pedals to clipless.
You see nothing wrong with discussing the connection between hydration and urine color.
You find your Shimano touring shoes to be more comfortable and stylish than your gunboat sneakers.
You refuse to buy a couch because that patch of wall space is taken up by the bike.
You have more money invested in your bike clothes than in the rest of your combined wardrobe.
Biker chick means black spandex, not leather, and a Marinoni, not a Harley.
"Four cheeseburgers and four large French Fries" is for you.
You see a fit, tanned, Lycra-clad young woman ride by, and the first thing you check out is her bicycle.
You empathize with the roadkill.
Despite all that winter fat you put on, you'll skim weight by buying titanium components.
You use wax on your chain, but not on your car.
When driving, you yell "On Your Left!" on passing another car.
You yell "Hole!" when you see a pothole while driving your car.
Your bike has more miles on its computer then your car's odometer.
You wear your riding gloves when driving your car.
You wear your bike shorts swimming.
Your bikes are worth more than your car.
You buy a mini-van and immediately remove the rear seats to allow your bikes to fit.
When you move to a new area the first thing you look for is a bike shop.
You have more bike jerseys than dress shirts.
You take your bike along when you shop for a car - just to make sure the bike will fit inside.
You start yelling at cars to "hold your line."
You're comfortable bumping elbows with step vans.
You view crashes as an opportunity to upgrade components.
You clean your bike(s) more often then your car.
You're on the Board of Directors for a Bike Club.
You spend weeks during the summer spraying arrows on the sides of roads.
You and your significant other have and wear identical riding clothes.
You mount a $600 cap, on a $1,000 pickup truck, so your $3,000 bike doesn't get wet.
You can't seem to get to work by 8:30 AM, even for important meetings, but you don't have any problems at all meeting your buddies at 5:30 AM for a hammerfest.
You can tell your spouse, with a straight face, that it's too hot to mow the lawn and then bike off for a century.
You regard inter-gender discussion of genital pain as normal.
You know your cadence, but you have no idea what your speed is.
When driving your car you lean over the steering wheel, just like an aerobar.
Your car sits outside your garage because your garage is full of bikes and cycling gear.
You tailgate a semi-trailer to get the drafting effect.
The Bike Nashbar customer order number is on your speed dial.
You hear someone had a crash and your first question is "How's the bike?"
You smile at your evening date, and she politely points out that you seem to have bugs in your teeth.
You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends who are addicted to cycling.
Lynn AKA the Bike Diva