When I started cycling last year, nothing could have prepared me for the senseless pain I experienced on a twice-daily basis, commuting through the howling wind and lashing rain of the Great British winter. The bad news is that this is largely as a result of the one thing you can guarantee (apart from death, but let’s not go there just yet), which is that winter in the UK is going to be cold at some point. The good news is that the way you prepare for that eventuality is going to have an enormous bearing on the level of pain you experience.
The Extremities
For a long time after the oddly warm late-September (it’s not odd - it’s warm every year and consistently baffling that this should come as a surprise to anyone), you will deny that it is autumn and the temperature is dropping, and you will maintain the fallacy that because the sun is shining, it must be warm. If you’re anything like me, you will spend months denying the cold. You will resolutely refuse to believe anything other than that this “cold snap” is going to last for a “couple of weeks” and it’s not worth buying expensive gloves for cycling with - you won’t need them when this “cold snap” desists. Look, it’s not desisting. It’s here and it’s going nowhere until at least March 20th. For goodness’ sake, your hands are cold when you walk to the shop, let alone when you’re propelling yourself, at speed, head-first into the winter. Get some gloves. I know you think £24 is a lot of money to spend on some bloomin’ gloves, like these by Gore, but you will never regret this life choice and you can use them next year, too! Likewise the ears. OH GOD THE EARS. Nothing frames a morning in abject misery quite like the sensation of having been playfully slapped repeatedly around your ears until your whole head hurts. For hours. I’m getting a headband with ear covers this year, and I really don’t care if you judge me for that.
Base Layer
The annoying thing about cycling is that even though you’re outside and you’re not wearing a duffel coat, you are actually doing something physical, thus increasing your core temperature. So you could be sweating like a pig even though it’s brass monkeys. And of course, once you’ve gotten damp, the icy grip of winter really starts to cause trouble. So what you need is a base layer to wick sweat away from your skin. In an ideal world this would be made of merino wool, such as this reasonably-priced offering by Endura, because it’s lovely and snug, but it does tend to be a little pricier and most mainstream cycling brands do offer a man-made alternative.
Waterproof
You’ve got your wicking base layer, so that’s the sweat dealt with, but what about the bloomin’ rain?? What you need is a reliable waterproof jacket. Let’s be clear on this: water proof, NOT shower proof. Time and time again I have failed (usually as a result of not wanting to spend the extra money that this vital component adds) to make this distinction and on every occasion I’ve regretted it. Not least at Glastonbury in 2007 when I concluded that the £4 I’d spent on my Primark Packamac was the worst investment choice I’d ever made. Spend the cash, get something half decent, and ideally something breathable that doesn’t then leave you dripping in sweat under its laminated fabrics. If you’re very lucky, you might even win this reflective jacket that we’re giving away courtesy of the lovely people at Proviz. Check our back on our blog and Twitter over the next couple of weeks for details.
Wind-proof your face
Finally, the howling wind does not discriminate between men and women and your skin is about to hate you. I know some of you are guys and profess not to care, but I suspect most of you would really prefer to be recognisable by your perfectly intact features rather than a trail of facial dandruff scattered around the office. Do yourself the biggest favour of all time and invest in some Neil’s Yard Wild Rose Beauty Balm, which not only soothes dry skin but acts as a rather brilliant barrier against the wind if you smear it across your visage before heading into the elements. If that’s just too girly for you, your loss (of skin!) my friend.
