Stretching Out





Riding a bike need not be a pain in the butt. To relieve those cheeks, just hop on a recumbent.

No way will I give up my mountain or road bikes. I may, however, expand my cycling arsenal after riding 20 miles in the equivalent of an easy-chair.

Plenty are way ahead of me, it seems. No longer is my recumbent pal in Columbus an odd sight. These days, I spot a laid-back rider almost every outing.

The appeal is understandable. Rather than hunched over on a saddle, recumbent riders recline on a padded seat, pedaling with legs outstretched and gripping handlebars at chest level.

It’s a pressure-free stance that puts zero strain on the knees, back, wrists or neck. The model I borrowed not only accommodated my 6’6” frame but actually offered room to spare.

Had I taken the time to tinker with it, I could have adjusted the bike to suit my size perfectly, and a heavier person would have had no trouble whatsoever. One of the glories of recumbent bikes is that they make cycling more enjoyable for all body types.

But even hardened racers ought to pay attention. The recumbent position is remarkably aerodynamic. Like sports cars, recumbent bikes hug the ground and present a small surface for resistance. No wonder the speed record for a human-powered vehicle was set by a recumbent.

Indeed, on the older model Sun-brand recumbent I rented for one day from Fridrich Bicycle in Cleveland ($25, fridrichs.com), riding into the wind was noticeably easier than it is on any of my other machines. On flat roads, I could have ridden forever. Even more fun was riding downhill. I felt like a cannonball, a force of surging momentum.

There were downsides, of course. Climbing, for instance, was a major challenge. Bridges in the Cleveland Metroparks, over which I soar on my road bikes, became long slogs in a low gear.

Also, the model I rode was wobbly. With a large rear wheel and smaller front wheel, tipping or over-turning were ever-present risks, and re-starting from a stop took longer than usual, especially on the gravelly Ohio and Erie Canal Towpath Trail.

Then again, I was probably safer on the recumbent than any other bike. Had I tipped, I only would have fallen a foot, and the chance of flying out of my seat over the handlebars was nil.

There were physical side-effects as well. The overall experience may have been pain-free, but that doesn’t mean I felt nothing. On the contrary, unaccustomed to riding a recumbent, I ached in all sorts of new places.

After 20 miles of riding, my rear-end and shoulders were far happier than they normally are, and I had a good sweat going, same as I get on other bikes, but my calves and shins, the driving forces on climbs, throbbed for days. Weirder was the burn in my biceps, the result of so much pulling on the handlebars.

These, though, are novice sensations, effects certain to fade with time and experience. After a while, I’m told, long rides would be no more taxing, in terms of strain, than short ones.

The only real drawback is cost. Recumbent bikes are significantly more expensive than standard bikes, and to lug them around, you have to own a large vehicle, purchase a specialized rack, or do some dismantling and reassembling every trip.

Still, it’s almost certainly a good investment. You’ll save tons on saddle-sore cream, and if it gets you off the couch, the benefits will be priceless.