Sure, my crotch had been hating me for wearing running shorts while riding my new bike, but black spandex with a pink pad? Are you kidding me?

Pink padding on the inside of the shorts.

After listening to my complaints of agonizing rides, the bike shop tech handed me two sizes of the strangest-looking black spandex shorts I’ve ever seen. Neither looked big enough to house half of my butt, but I eased into the bathroom anyway, ready to be compressed into comfort.

As I flipped the shorts inside out to see what would protect my precious parts, the first thing that stood out was the bright pink maxi-pad-like insert in the crotch. I’d imagined black, gel-like material, but the pink stuff seemed to be cotton or other cloth and felt-lined. I flipped them right-side-out and wriggled into them.

The second surprise was the waistband, although its irregularity quickly made sense. The back of the shorts came up way higher than the front—by way higher, I mean up to my middle ribs, compared to waistline in the front. Common sense quickly decoded the strangeness, and I bent over in front of the mirror as though I were riding my bike. No skin exposure. So, no funny tan lines, no unexpected sunburns, and maybe a little less chance of drivers honking at me. (Why in the world do people honk and yell at exercisers, anyway? Has anyone ever met a significant other or good friend by blowing the horn at someone who’s in the midst of a workout?)

Higher in back than in front... no one will get mooned!

Fashion-wise, the shorts were atrocious. The larger size was worse, although it felt slightly more comfortable at the waist. The padded butt pooched out like a diaper. The smaller size didn’t pooch as much and fit me better in the thighs, and although I didn’t feel like I’d found a true winner, I chose the smaller shorts because I figured most of the apprehension I felt was due to complete inexperience with padded shorts.

Thank the bike gods for getting me over my fashion faux paus moment and pushing me to buy the $39.99 Trek shorts. The next ride (largely also due to my new bicycle seat) was not only tolerable, but actually fun. I spent 40 minutes on what were probably slightly underinflated tires for the sheer joy of riding. A little spandex (and padding) goes a long way, and when I headed for home but would have preferred riding longer, I knew the real reason people love to bike: it’s a fast, fun, and comfortable workout. Three cheers for weird shorts!

Tech Specs for Trek Women’s Club Short, as claimed on tag: flat seams; polyester spandex; quick dry; silicon at leg openings; non-stretch chamois (crotch area).

Stonyfield Farm Organic Yogurt

Yogurt and I have had our ups and downs. I know it’s basically healthy, and makes a good addition to a daily diet, but too often I’m left wondering when the real snack will arrive. Since I swear by organic milk, I decided to give organic yogurt a try. I reasoned that if I’m going to eat yogurt, I might as well choose the healthiest possible from what is a disturbingly large selection of brightly packaged yogurt at the grocery store. Stonyfield Farm Organic Lowfat Blueberry Yogurt jumped out from the crowd, in large part because a contemplative-looking cow wearing a monocle peers out from the logo.

Stonyfield Farm’s 6oz of yogurt was a bit pricier than other varieties, but that’s to be expected when buying organic. The plastic cup is labeled as a 5 for recycling, which made me feel good about my choice, since a lot of yogurt cups still aren’t coded for anything but the landfill. Organic blueberries are listed as the second ingredient, and I expected a nice portion of “fruit on the bottom” once I stirred the cup.

The most striking and immediate difference between Stonyfield’s yogurt and other brands I’ve had in the past is the smell. Upon peeling back the lid, a much more pungent, yogurty smell met my curious nostrils. The yogurt was almost pure white, as is often the case with “fruit on the bottom” varieties. A quick stir turned up the pleasant purple I expected, plus a sizable (but not huge) portion of blueberries. After a few more stirs, I gave the yogurt a taste.

Overall, it was very good, and somehow felt healthier than non-organic yogurt. Maybe that was a marketing trick, but I don’t think so. Stonyfield’s yogurt isn’t as thick, smooth, or sugary-tasting as mainstream products, but it’s reasonably filling and satisfying. Sure, it’s what some people would call a “sugar bomb,” but I’m not diabetic, and I prefer naturally milled organic sugar to lab-created sweeteners. I would’ve liked to have had more blueberries in the mix, but otherwise I was happy. Equally as importantly, I felt good– like I’d chosen a healthy snack that truly was healthy, rather than disguised as such.

Basic nutrition ticker: 6oz, 130 calories, 1.5g fat, 5mg cholesterol, 110mg sodium, 22g carbohydrate, <1g fiber, 21g sugar, 6g protein, plus a nice dose of calcium and vitamin D and a trace of vitamin A.

Balance Bare Bar image from amazon.com

Like most athletes and busy people, I’ve eaten my fair share of protein bars, nutrition bars, granola bars, and pretty much every other type of fortified food compressed into bar form. Some have been disgusting. Some have been hard to chew. Some have melted all over the front of my pristine, white work uniform.

Every once in a while, a bar tastes good, and I gotta hand it to Balance Bar for their Bare product. The wrapper proclaims it as a “nutrition energy bar” with “sweet & salty peanut butter natural flavor with other natural flavor.” Sometimes the “flavor” thing can be sketchy– like when companies turn chemicals into a food that actually tastes like fruit– but the Balance Bare tastes great.

I chose the bar instead of its multitude of competitors because it wasn’t a super-duper-muscle-builder, and because it was on sale for less than a dollar. The picture on the wrapper looked pretty good too, and I figured I could stomach it in a pinch. A packed Friday found me in that pinch, and I opened the wrapper with disappointment waiting in the wings. Let’s face it– most of these things, even if they’re good, are only good relative to their unpalatable brothers and sisters.

Balance Bare surprised me. It not only tasted good, but I didn’t feel too full or too empty after eating it. Chopped peanuts were interspersed between little chunks that tasted similar to Rice Krispies (but were really a conglomeration of lots of sometimes bizarre ingredients), and the peanut buttery base layer was sweet without being too much like candy. I drank a glass of milk and ate some strawberries to feel like I’d really had lunch, but the bar saved the day by not forcing me to interrupt business by going to the grocery store.

Seriously though, I’m going to research “fractionated palm kernel oil.” Try as I may, I’m not a dietary perfectionist, but something about eating anything fractionated sounds like a bad idea. Stay tuned for my findings.

Basic nutrition ticker: 1.76oz, 210 calories, 9g fat, 0mg cholesterol, 300mg sodium, 22g carbohydrate, 3g fiber, 11g sugar, 13g protein, plus a bounty of fortifying vitamins and minerals.