Why You Should Suck it Up and Ride a Bike in the Snow in NYC

Image via Complex Original

For those cyclists who want to clock serious mileage without getting too far from home-or those who just want to take a casual loop away from buses and taxis-nothing beats Central Park and Prospect Park. But they're not exactly secrets, so come fair weather, seemingly everyone in the tri-state area fills the roadways. Cyclists, joggers, horse-drawn carriages (although not for long, perhaps) along with longboarders and in-line skaters. Inclement weather culls the crowd, especially of the skaters (try Wollman Rink), which clears the road, allowing the hardiest to enjoy the views.

Keeping warm burns calories all by itself, so it follows that exercising in the cold burns even MORE calories. Right? Well, apparently it's not a lot more, but hey, every little bit counts, right? And when the exertion is the only thing creating any warmth, more exertion is definitely the answer. Who wants to be stuck in a gym on a sunny day, even if it's 20 degrees out?

Here's a little secret: Riding a bike in the snow will not cause it to immediately collapse into a pile of rust flecks and rubber fragments. In fact, if treated properly with proper preventative and post-ride maintenance, inclement weather (and even salt and slush) shouldn't cause any damage at all. But even if it does, so what? It's a bike, it's supposed to show signs of use. Just rinse it off properly, keep the lubed parts lubed, and don't aim for ALL of the big puddles.

Staying warm and dry on a bike in the winter is every bit as easy as staying warm and dry while walking around in winter. Plus, it's easier to cover up that baselayer of spandex. And there's no need to stick to cycling-specific clothing, either. If a piece of snowboard or adventure gear works, use it. Wool socks are a must-it might even be worth going up a half-size in winter cycling shoes to wear two pairs of socks. And while fenders can clog with snow, that's much better than a dirty frozen skunk stripe.

Back before the days of carbon fiber frames and wind-tunnel tested aerodynamics and, you know, helmets, bicycle racers were tough. Not that they're not tough now, but this is nothing compared to the '60s and '70s back when bikes were made of steel, jerseys were made of wool, and an "energy drink" was wine with extra amphetamines in it. Think Eddy Merckx, who won the Tour de France and the Giro d'Italia five times each between 1968 and 1974, would have been stopped by snow? Please.

When the snow gets deep in New York City, the only bikes locked to bike racks are the ones that stay year-round, slowly rusting and settling on flat tires. Beaten and battered by plows and uncaring pedestrians, many will be discarded in spring. In the meantime, there will never be an easier time to lock up.

Are there ways to ride bikes indoors in winter? Of course there are. There are spinning spots like Soulcycle, or home methods like rollers or trainers. Obviously the home options are better, since they don't involve going outside at all. But rollers are hard (like, fall-into-the-TV hard) and trainers are just stupid. Riding a bike should be a full-body workout, not just turning the pedals. Go outside.

Chances are good you're going to need to go outside for something at some point, and every other form of transportation sucks in winter: Trains are late, cabs are impossible to catch, and walking is too slow. Plus now is one of those guaranteed times when you can find a CitiBike at almost any rack-presuming you can get it out.

As everyone else emerges for the first time following a long winter spent eating takeout in front of the TV, won't it feel good to already be in midseason shape? This doesn't only apply to racers, as even the CitiBike Cat 6 races up First Avenue will be better run with some winter miles under the belt.

Think back to being a kid. Was there any weather short of a tornado that would have kept you off your bike? Absolutely not. So what the hell are you waiting for? Get out there and be happy you're not sitting at a desk.