In my 30s and early 40s I would ride with a club of about 15 die-hard regulars rain or shine. We were so full of ourselves we would belittle the fair-weather cyclists, because they weren’t macho enough to keep their fitness up by riding in the rain and hail. We were fully equipped and we had each other to reinforce our manliness. The real test of being a man was riding in one day from Seattle to Portland in the rain. My testosterone must have been off the charts that day. One of my worst rain days was doing a metric century up and down a local mountain pass where it absolutely poured and got hypothermic. Testosterone levels were tempered by the shivering.

Fast forward almost 30 years, and the thrill of being a real hard-core cyclist has faded. Now I stick to nice days or days with a chance of rain and take a rain cape just in case. No more squishy shoes, grit soaked clothing and having to wash and lube the bike. I can get used to being an unmanly cyclist riding ZWIFT while it pours outside.