Ever since last year after Tour DAY Park City, when the massage therapist who was trying to help me get my muscles to the point I could actually walk again told me that I’d be faster if I actually stretched after exercise, I have tried to be reasonably diligent about stretching following rides.
This is no problem at home. I can stretch anywhere I want, with the only risk being a kid (or wife) thinking that since I’m holding still it’s a good time to make some loving gesture that knocks me off balance (resulting in a muscle strain).
But when I ride my bike to work, twisting myself into odd positions and holding them for half a minute is sure to further convince my co-workers that I am a freak. And it’s already bad enough that I occasionally walk into the office still wearing my cycling clothes.
So where to stretch? I thought about hiding in the parking garage, and indeed was planning to go there today. Except that before I went I stopped in the bathroom. And accidentally discovered the most perfect place to stretch ever.
Privacy and hand rails galore—what more could you want?