In the saddle: Applying high school math to save your … |

In the saddle: Applying high school math to save your …

Ryan SlabaughThe Aspen TimesAspen, CO Colorado

ASPEN – I walked into Ajax Bike & Sport the other day, working on a story for an upcoming Aspen Times Weekly about the term “bodygeometry.” I was interested for two reasons. The first was simple. I’m a gear nut and always love to learn about the latest trends, and how they can make up for my physical shortcomings. The second reason was more geeky. I liked geometry in high school, and can still proudly tell you the difference between acute and obtuse triangles. In Ajax, I met Tyler Williams, born and raised in Aspen and someone who has spent the better part of the last two decades skiing professionally. He also likes long rides on his bike, and has recently received intensive training in “bodygeometry,” which simply put, is the art of making one comfortable on a bicycle. Just on the premise alone, I understood that I could learn something from this, not having ever taken the time to actually fit a bike to my tall, featureless frame. What I would learn from Tyler, however, significantly interrupted the interview and led me down a line of questioning I was not prepared for. Within seconds of the start of the interview, I heard Tyler say, “And then we attach it to your penis.” Not sure I was hearing things exactly right, I asked him to repeat that (something I regretted), and then asked for a better explanation. He went on, telling me that part of the advanced bodygeometry program involved someone pedaling on a stationary bike, and doctors seeing how the blood flowed in and out of that certain, special region.He would explain: For most men, the blood stops flowing within minutes of being seated on a traditional bike. Damage is being done. With the new technology, special seats provide support only where you need it, and not where you don’t. To me, this sounded less like a gimmick, and more like a miracle. He went on to describe how to fit someone to the handlebars, and how shoe inserts could help me generate more power, but I was caught up in his first attempt at explaining the process to me. Not wanting to sound like a fifth-grader, I nodded and asked him detailed questions about shoes. Yet the story, I knew, had long been written in my notebook. “Go see Tyler, the genius,” I had written, and