Women Jerseys as Rare as Plants Above Treeline

It’s no revelation that men and women’s bodies are built differently. Knowing this, one would guess that participating in a co-ed event means there are both men and women products, like jerseys, for instance.

Last weekend Jared and I participated in the Bob Cook Memorial Mt. Evans Hill Climb. With the registration we also received a jersey. Like most cycling events, there are men and women jerseys, which makes sense because both men and women ride bikes.

I picked up our packets early and excited to try on the jersey, I pulled it out of the Primal bag and slung it around my feminine physique. I felt like I was underneath a parachute. What the hell I thought. Did I order the wrong fucking size? I looked at the tag: men’s medium. I could see me mistakenly order a women’s medium, sure, but a men’s? No.

I emailed the race director explaining I found a parachute in my bag instead of a jersey and she was cool enough to offer to replace it. Sweet.

Saturday morning rolls around and I find myself in a hellish line waiting to return the men’s medium for a women’s small. When I finally get up to the lady I was told to speak with, she points me to another one, who is clearly frantic from all the people and tells me to “hold on.”

I felt like quoting Walter Sochack: “I’m calmer than you are.”

After hugging and chatting with the volunteers, she finally turns to me and says, “What do you need?”

“Uh, well, this is a men’s medium and surely, I wouldn’t order something of this size. I was told I could return it for a smaller size. Can I get a women’s small?”

She grabs her yellow notepad and tells me, “We only have men’s sizes.”

First off, let me say that I know jerseys aren’t cheap, especially when you have to order more than one size. I get it. I’m just as stingy as the next person.

BUT…

How does that encourage more women to start racing or even participating in bike riding events when you’re told, as a woman, “we only have men’s sizes.” How polarizing is that?

So I responded to her, “Well, since I’m a woman I’ll need the smallest men size you have.” She says, “yeah, you’re pretty small,” like it was nothing. Like as a woman herself, the event she’s managing doesn’t welcome women with open arms.

The only redeeming thing of the Bob Cook Memorial Hill Climb was the fact that I came in first in my age group in the gran fondo.