The Saddle-Sore Saga
aka the bane of my life
I’m a saddle addict. There, I’ve said it. I’ve owned, rented, and borrowed more saddles during my three-year cycling obsession than is socially acceptable, and, to this day, I still haven’t found the one. “Your bike needs to feel like a sofa” – a quote from Christoph Strasser, six-time winner and record holder for the fastest time in the Race Across America – and a mantra I repeat whenever tinkering with my setup: if it doesn’t deliver sofa vibes, it’s going in the bin*
The truth is: I’ve spent countless hours agonising over how to stop the soreness, and countless more cursing my failed attempts. Alongside numb hands (which I’ve recently managed to resolve), saddle pain is my long-standing nemesis when tackling longer hours on the bike. In fact, it nearly caused me to scratch during my first ultra last year.
For 2024 I have some pretty big ambitions, starting with a monstrously hilly 800km ultra across the West Country, and culminating in a 4,000km, seven-country bikepacking race towards the Arctic Circle. Am I terrified? Absolutely. But 90% of that fear comes from how my poor bottom will fare across back-to-back days of 12+ hours of riding.
I need to figure this out, and quickly. So I’ve decided to take to the internet, spill the proverbial beans on everything I’ve tried to date, and call on the cycling hive-mind to help me inch closer towards maximum sofa vibes and crossing that Nordkapp finish line with a (mostly) in-tact posterior.
1. “You should get a bike fit”
I know this is what you were all thinking, most likely accompanied by an exaggerated eye-roll and an audible sigh. You’re right. It’s the most commonly cited advice I get from both strangers and friends alike and, believe me, I get it: I’ve had multiple bike fits over the years and the vast majority have been hugely beneficial. On the flip side, I’ve also experienced fits where I’ve felt unheard and misunderstood: just another customer to get in and out the door.
Credit where credit is due: my current fit has gone a long way to resolving many of my previous issues, but sadly saddle soreness isn’t one of them. I understand that bike fits aren’t an exact science and often require countless follow-ups to get things tweaked to perfection – but, unlike Christoph, I sadly don’t have a team of experts focussed on the continued comfort of my derrière. They are also hella expensive and I’d quite like to not have to remortgage my apartment, or stop buying oat milk flat whites.
In all seriousness, my current challenge is knowing where to go to get the results I need. Not all bike fits are created equal (as alluded to above), and I’m a little lost as to how to find someone that truly understands and has experience in fitting for 12+ hour, multi-day, endurance events where comfort is critical.
Any recommendations, please let me know!
2. Saddle-up!
The thing that spends the most time attached to the long-suffering body part in question, and often assumed to be the main culprit of all cycling-related torment. I’ll be honest, I’ve swapped my saddle more times than I’ve changed my brake pads, and the only thing I’ve achieved is a severely depleted bank account.
Thankfully, I soon realised that buying saddles outright isn’t a financially favourable strategy and quickly became a regular at London Bike Kitchen and their impressive saddle library – a vast collection of rentable saddles aimed at the butt-conscious amongst us (of which I consider myself a lifetime member).
Fast forward 4 months and [insert obscene number of saddles] later and I was growing weary of the endless rollercoaster of optimism followed by crushing disappointment. My biggest gripe with saddles is that they lure you in by feigning opulence and then as soon as you hit the 200km mark – bang, you’re sitting on a cheese-grater made of splintered wood.
Fun fact: the most uncomfortable saddle I’ve ever had the displeasure of sitting on was the one recommended to me during a bike fit. To this day I simply cannot fathom how I managed to ride the 500km from London to Land’s End on that merciless piece of plastic.
The saddle I have now is fine. And by fine I mean that it’s successful in its saddle duties of enabling me to sit on it. I can get through some relatively punchy miles without wanting to wrap my down jacket around it (been there, done that), but I would be lying if I called it comfortable. It mostly gets me from A to B with no significant grumbles, but let’s just say it’s not something I’d want to depend on whilst traversing Scandinavia by bike – which is mildly terrifying, considering that’s exactly what’s on the (not even that far away) horizon.
Truthfully, how much does a saddle contribute to comfort? Is this where I should be focussing my efforts?
3. The wonderful world of bibs
Another minefield of options, another unspeakable sum spent on cycling kit. My first ever pair of bib shorts came from Evans Cycles, long before I knew what kind of hardship I’d eventually submit them to, or the durability I’d ask them to exhibit. I had no idea about different chamois shapes, materials, or hygiene qualities. I also had no idea how to pronounce chamois. What I did know, however, is that bib shorts made it look extremely difficult to go to the toilet. And therein I made one of the greatest decisions of my cycling career to date – I bought the pair that had a zip.
My Endura FS260s and their “zipped drop seat” are, to date, still the bibs I run back to when the more expensive brands mess me around and break my heart. AND YET. There’s still a handful of red flags I’d like to address: primarily the lack of pockets – a newly discovered and now essential feature of every future bib purchase – and the fact they leave me watery-eyed after 150km.
It’s incredibly hard to know what’s at fault; the bibs, the saddle, or the bike fit (or – worse yet – a combination of all three), and therefore I feel it’s unfair to tarnish all the bib brands I’ve tried that haven’t quite hit the mark. Saying that, there are definitely some bibs that have lasted me longer distances than others so I’m still open to recommendations for where I should turn next – as long as they have pockets!
4. Chamois cream
And let’s not forget our unsung hero. Chamois Cream, Skin Gel, Bum Butter – you name it, I’ve tried it. I used to swear by it for every single ride, although recently I’ve started to wonder whether it was more of a placebo; a way to feel as though I was taking control of the situation and showing that saddle who was boss. In reality I was probably just keeping Bepanthen in business.
TL;DR
In summary, this whole cycling malarky is hard. I always thought that it would be my body or my mind that would prevent me from reaching the finish line of this year’s events, but I’m starting to think it may be something a little more outside of my control: my wallet.
The unfortunate truth is that all of the above come at a cost, and it’s not clear which investments are going to pay the most dividends.
Which is why I’m turning to you, hive-mind. As always, I welcome any and all discussion or recommendations for where I should turn next. Or maybe there is no solution and I just need to toughen up – in which case I welcome suggestions for that too!
* used for dramatic effect. I recycle. Obviously.