Tall Men and Small Cars: The Health Hazards of Going Green

When I can ride my bike to work, I do. It has a comfortable seat and plenty of headroom.

As a mode of transportation, it’s perfect. The pedals are easy to reach, the seat and handlebars are adjustable, and the stereo speakers fit in my ears. Despite the lack of airbags and the minimal protection system (a.ka. a plastic helmet), it’s a very “green” way to commute and usually quite satisfying.

However, just like in Game of Thrones, winter is coming. Idaho (where I live) has seasons, and when the ground is covered with snow and ice, or the temperature hovers on the south side of freezing, it’s time to commute in a car. But what about the health risks?

Headaches

Most cars are designed to fit American’s of average height, between 4’11” and 6’1” according to the Wall Street Journal. That’s 90% of the population, not too bad, as long as you don’t fall close to or over either end of the spectrum..

I’m at the tall end, and can testify the top inch of your forehead is extremely sensitive to door frame impact.You’d think that to mitigate this I could just wear the above mentioned helmet, but that makes my head even taller, and entry into the vehicle cabin nearly impossible.

Knee Pain

Many people don’t know that besides your not-so-funny bone near your elbow, there is a similarly sensitive area on your knee. Steering wheels and steering columns target this area precisely, especially if any other driver who uses your car is vertically challenged.

Once a tall driver has recovered from this initial impact, the battle of seat positioning begins. A commute of longer than a block or two, in other words walking distance, results in knee cramping and extreme pain.

This is serious stuff. J.C. Chen of USC states that the knee is the most often medically treated joint, accounting for 26% of all orthopedic visits.. Much of that knee pain is a result of driving for extended periods. The correlation between height, length of commute, and vehicle size is clear.

My Aching Back

There is a Starbucks three minutes from my house. I can usually make it that far before my back starts to hurt. Lumbar support? Maybe for someone in the middle of the height spectrum, around 5’6”. My tailbone feels stellar, and a vibrating headrest might help my aching shoulders (why do we not have this?). However, my lower back gets less support than an Omaha Steaks booth at a PETA convention.

Claustrophobia

Low ceilings and thick pillars make lovely blind spots. If I’m not kissing the windshield, I’m hidden behind the door pillar. I might as well sit in the back seat and try to drive from there.

A sunroof option, you suggest? No way. When closed, they usually reduce headroom by another two precious inches. Open, we’re back to the winter thing. Not to mention newly created blind spots.

Are the controls designed for a T-rex? Jammed fingers and awkward moments where the stereo becomes inaudible and the AC blasts hot air are all too common.

Mental State

A long car commute can be as depressing (and nearly the same length) as One Direction’s career. This can result in less sleep, lack of exercise leading to obesity, or even accidentally listening to a Justin Beiber song on the radio.

A recent study of nearly 4,300 Texans showed as commuting distances increased, physical activity decreased, blood pressure and obesity increased, and ultimately they were more likely to become Cowboys fans, a disturbing development.

 

Looking for a new car, I feel like I’m trying to find the perfect shoes at a bargain outlet. Either I try on forty pairs without finding the right ones, or I look around and determine clearance shoppers have left me nothing in my size. I may give up.

They have snow tires for bicycles right? You know, the kind with ice studs? Maybe if I just wear body armor…

Or I’ll buy a gas guzzling SUV with legroom to spare, and accelerate climate change. Maybe Idaho will become a tropical paradise.