Ramblings, or More T.M.I.

I've taken to showering with my helmet on. It's not that I've developed some central nervous disorder like cerebral palsy and jerk my head and neck spastically therefor requiring protection. It's not that I have epilepsy or some other siezure disorder. No phobias of falling objects and I haven't started hitting the bottle either. To explain this new and admittedly odd behavior I'll begin at my feet. Before this trip I bought some new shoes. Sandles actually that have SPD clips in the soles for cycling. Sheryl turned me onto them and they are great for hot weather cycling. Even though my feet sweat like a firewalker on valium, the wind can blow through when I lift my toes giving some nice ventilation. You'd think that would keep down the stench nicely but you'd be wrong. Cooler and drier yes, fresher no. There was a sour funkiness that I started noticing the other day while riding and thought to myself, "damn, those are some powerful feet if I can smell them from up here, while riding... and with a descent headwind". Every once in a while I'd get the whiff and think that a good sandle scrubbing was in order just after the ride. That night the shoes were washed and smelled a lot like Dr. Bronners mint soap...and a hint of funk. Feeling good about it the next day I started to notice the smell again about an hour into the ride. This time I noticed it when wiping the sweat from my forehead and was pretty horrified to discover that my gloves smelled a lot like my feet. A lot of people have stinky feet, granted, and they make foot powders for this condition. But no one I know has stinky hands that smell like their feet...it's not right somehow. But I could blame it on the 6-8 hour sweaty gloves that were constantly wet. Like socks for my hands I reasoned. Eating lunch with those hands was a challenge as I had to reserve my water for drinking and didn't wash up extensively. It was like eating bananas and peanuts from a laundry basket, but when your hungry... That night my gloves got the same treatment as my sandles (which were now approaching their original state of putrifaction) and smelled mintier and a lot less foot-like. Today I noticed the odor once again and started to question my sanity as the gloves passed the sniff test with a minty B+. Every time I looked down at my feet I got the sour socks smell, yet I knew it wasn't my feet. Then it came to me with a disgusted clarity reserved for those who suddenly are aware of the bottom they've hit after a long battle with drugs or alcohol. It's my head. My helmet had been storing 6-8 hours of sweat, brewing it ever so slowly into a sauce (spelled sos here in Malaysia) that is common to sweat soaked socks and apparently gloves worn too long. My head smells like my feet! Not OK, not OK! What's next, my pits? Am I just going to walk around like Linus with the pall of old tennis shoes surrounding me? I'm becoming concerned. For one thing I'm adjusting my laundry budget for this trip. Secondly, I'm showering with my helmet on!