It's Not About The Bike...

As a kid I went through the usual variety of bikes. Kick brakes, banana seats, baseball cards in the spokes and all. Eventually somewhere in my early teens I graduated to the big leagues and I got a Schwinn Deluxe Varsity 10 speed. I loved that bike and rode it everywhere. I don’t know how many times I completely stripped it down as far as I could to thoroughly clean and lube it and then put it back together again. I enjoyed every second I spent on it. But, by my late teens it lay unused and virtually forgotten in my parent’s garage. I had moved on. I was now a long distance runner and had no more time for it.

A couple of years after graduating high school a friend brought me back to bikes. He was an avid cyclist and convinced me to start riding with him. I bought his old Raleigh touring bike, cleaned it up and painted it, and took it out on the road. I did a lot of riding with him, regaining my joy of being on a bike. I eventually did a number of weekend bike tours on it and a couple of biathlons as well. I started to get better and faster and even tried a couple of criteriums. Unfortunately after several years of this I somehow cracked the frame and had no money for another bike. Again, I stepped away from the bike.

Every summer I would watch the Tour de France, and miss the bike. I would start to save to buy one, hoping to get back out on the road again. A couple of weeks after the Tour was over I would forget about it and spend the money. Running was cheaper, I was good at it, and that was enough for me.

I eventually graduated from college with my bachelor’s degree and then with my master’s. I found my first job as an athletic trainer and moved to Texas. I quickly found that I didn’t have the time to even run anymore, much less ride. Besides, I was barely able to pay the bills, I didn’t have money to waste on a bike that I couldn’t even ride safely on the roads where I lived. But, three years later, during the summer of 2000, I moved to New York.

I found the time to start running again and the area was perfect for riding. I was still scraping by financially, but I managed to dig up enough money to buy a Trek 4500 mountain bike. I justified the purchase because I needed it for work. I started riding that around campus, using it as a way to get from field to field providing medical coverage for games. As the year progressed I found some trails and started riding them as well.

The following school year I signed up to do a 60 mile ride for MS and knew that I didn’t really want to ride a mountain bike that far. Again I felt I had justification to buy a bike and scraped together enough to buy a Trek 1000 road bike. My first ride on it was in the MS ride, but soon after I was taking it out fairly regularly for rides. I was still putting in my miles running, but I was supplementing with my bike and loving it. That winter when the weather prohibited running outside I put road bike on my trainer and got my workouts in that way.

The next summer I started riding a couple of times a week. Never big miles, but decent rides of anywhere from 20 to 45 miles. I felt great and I was loving the bike again. But, as the summer wore on the rides grew fewer and shorter and by the start of the school year disappeared totally. I would still pull out the bike and stick on the trainer on the winter days when I couldn’t run, but that only lasted a couple of winters and then both bikes just got left in storage.

For some reason when we got out of school in June of 2006 I pulled out the Trek 1000 and loaded her on back of my truck before setting out for my usual summer of wandering around visiting family and friends. My first destination was my parents’ place in Michigan. I had couple siblings and a handful of friends still living in the area as well. I was about midway through my 10 hour drive when I got a call from a friend that lived ‘near’ my parents. He had just done his first triathlon, a sprint, that last weekend and wanted me to do one with him in the upcoming weekend. We discussed it for a while and I told him I would think about it.

The triathlon bug had actually first bitten me back in the 80’s when I watched The Wide World of Sports coverage of the Ironman triathlon in Hawaii. I already knew that I was an endurance athlete and after watching the race coverage I decided someday I would do Ironman. As with many other things, that plan was soon pushed to the back of my mind and virtually forgotten, but the hooks had been sunk in me. As I drove on it came back to me and the more I thought about it, the more I realized this was something I still wanted to do. A sprint triathlon was much, much shorter, but I had to start somewhere. So by the time I pulled into my parent’s driveway I was determined to become a triathlete.

The next morning I pulled out my bike, cleaned and lubed the chain, inflated the tires and took off on my first ride in a couple of years. I was already in pretty good shape because I had been running regularly, so I was able to hold a pretty good pace. I didn’t go very far that first ride, only about 15 miles, but it was a start and it was the distance that I would be riding in the upcoming triathlon. My butt was a bit tender, but it felt great to be back out on the bike again.

Despite a horrible swim I went on to have a good first triathlon that weekend. I managed to make the podium, finishing 3rd in my age group, just nipping my friend at the end. The hooks were now fully set and I continued to ride and train for triathlons the rest of the summer. I would do one more sprint a couple of weeks later and started to dream of Ironman.

As the summer ended and I headed back to work my triathlon training started to taper off and I soon was just running again. Fortunately we had a new coach working at the school who was a 6 time Ironman finisher and the fires were soon relit. The two of us hit it off and we were soon riding regularly together and it was only a couple of weeks later that I signed up for and did my first half ironman triathlon. In the race I rode my low end 1000 and found myself passing bike after bike, many of them 5-10 times the value of mine. I wasn't setting any records, but I was definitely holding my own. I ended up posting a 5:08 in my first 1/2 Ironman and even though I would have a couple of faster bike splits, it would take 9 more tries before I would surpass that time.

After completing my 3rd triathlon I knew my distant dream was doable. Ironman! I soon told my new girlfriend of it and my plans to register for Ironman Lake Placid the next summer. After she stopped laughing and explained the race was already closed out, as were all the rest, and how hard it was to get into them I was crushed. I continued to train and ride my bike on a regular basis, but my motivation was slipping and the bike was in danger of being put back into storage, but fortune struck.

About a month later my girlfriend told me she had just heard that they were going to have a new Ironman race the following summer in Louisville, KY and that registration would soon open for it. I made plans and shortly after registration opened I was on the computer hitting keys with desperation, I was going to get in! I was successful but it was many months before the race closed. Which on hindsight wasn’t too surprising. Louisville in August was not going to be pleasant. It is normally very hot and very humid and swimming in the Ohio River is never a real pleasure. But, it was an Ironman, and I was going to do it.

I continued to ride all fall and winter with my girlfriend. She started suggesting that if I was going to stay with triathlons and especially since I was doing an Ironman, that I might want to upgrade my bike. There was nothing wrong with the bike, but it was heavy and not really meant for speed. She was certain I’d be much happier with a better bike. She wasn’t suggesting I needed to jump up to a high end, but that I should at least consider a midlevel bike. She made sense, but I loved my 1000 and I pretty much ignored her for a while. The thought did roll around in my brain occasionally, and I would even look around online at different bikes, but I wasn’t ready to give this one up, yet.

As spring started to roll around I was still riding regularly. I loved being out on my bike. Running was still my first love, but my heart had found room for a second one. Around this time I also started noticing that bikes were going on sale and I soon found myself exploring the internet more often looking at what was out there and watching the sales. I started finding myself going back and checking out the 2006 Trek Madone 5.9 almost daily and eventually, I fell in love and bought her.

When my new bike arrived I was excited and couldn’t wait to take her out for a ride. She was so light and felt very fast and I was ear to ear smile the entire first ride. I came home and my 1000 was put back into storage. I decided to keep her as a backup bike for use in bad weather or in case something happened to the Madone. I still had a soft spot for the 1000, but she had been replaced.

I kept putting on the miles all spring. My longest ride though had only been about 65 miles. I needed to get in some longer ones if I really wanted to succeed at Ironman. Shortly after the school year ended I did an 80 mile ride followed a couple of weeks later by my first century. We stopped for lunch about 60 miles into the century, but I still completed it in one day, so I was getting closer to ready.

Around the 2nd week of July, 2007, I found out from my girl friend, via a friend of hers, that there was a group of triathletes that were planning to ride from Westchester, NY up to Lake Placid the week before Ironman and then stay up there and watch the race. I had ridden once early in the summer with a couple of them at one of their regular tri club rides and they seemed like a good bunch, so I asked for contact info to see if they would allow me to tag along. The ride they were planning was going to be about 300 miles over a two day period. It would be a huge step up for me, but I felt I could handle the challenge. I was riding well and feeling very strong and confident on the bike.

When I got a hold of the guy that was leading the ride he told me that due to a lot of people dropping out of the ride that he had decided to make it a one day ride. It was going to only be him and couple of other riders. He asked me how much experience I had and I lied telling him that I had done up to 160 miles in one day. I felt if he knew the truth that I would surely be left behind. He reluctantly agreed to allow me to join in.

I showed up at his place around 1am the morning of the ride. By this time the group was done to me and him and one other person who would only be riding about halfway with us. We set out through the dark and started our journey. It was a long ride and it turned out to be quite an adventure (which hopefully I’ll write up some day). The last half of the ride was in a cold, pouring rain with high winds. There were several times where I felt like I was done and could go no further, but somehow I’d get another wind and claw my way back into the ride. It took us 19 ½ hours to complete the 300 mile ride, which included our stops for food, drink, mechanical issues, etc. Our actual riding time was 18 hours and we averaged 16.5 mph for the ride. I was exhausted, cold and hungry by the time we reached Lake Placid, but I now finally felt I could call myself a cyclist.

We stayed and watched the race and I cheered my girlfriend on as she completed her 7th Ironman. The next morning after the race we headed to the fairgrounds to register for next year’s race. I was soon signed up to do my 2nd Ironman and had yet to do my 1st.

I did several ½ Ironman races over the course of the summer and completed my 1st Ironman in Louisville in a very respectable 11:40. I was now officially in my mind a runner, a cyclist and a triathlete. My love affair with the bike continued to grow. I continued to run, ride and do triathlons. My girlfriend moved away after that summer and went back to school. We continued to date for a while, but eventually she broke things off. I continued on with my new passions, despite losing my best training partner.

This last summer as I was in final preparation for my 4th Ironman (3rd at Lake Placid) I took my Madone in for a tune up and new tires and tubes to make sure everything was perfect for the race. While I was at the bike shop I started admiring a Cervelo that they had on sale. As I was talking to the guys that worked there they couldn’t help but notice were my attention was focused and one of them eventually told me that if I really liked that bike they should see the one they had in the show room. He took me over and showed me a 2009 Cervelo P2 tri bike with Dura Ace components. Since this was 2010 and the bike was still there, it was marked down pretty low. We talked, and talked and finally I said that I couldn’t afford it at the time and I finally left.

I got home and found that I couldn’t get my mind off of the bike. I kept telling myself I didn’t need it, the Madone was a great bike and besides, I really couldn’t afford it. The next day I went to pick up my Madone and I was feeling confident that I had dismissed the idea of buying the Cervelo. I got to the shop, paid for my Madone and took her out and loaded her on my truck. But, before I knew it I was back in the show room looking at the Cervelo. It wasn’t long before they convinced me to take it out for a test ride. I fell in love in the first mile. She was fast! And I felt super comfortable on her. When I returned from the ride they could tell from my smile that I was buying her. We haggled a bit and they came down a bit more on the price and soon she was mine.

It was the weekend before Ironman when I bought the Cervelo. I knew it was crazy, but my intent was to ride her in the race. I’d done no training on her and it would break one of the big rules of racing, don’t change anything race day. I managed to get in about 150 miles on her over the course of the week and felt confident that I could do Ironman on her. I took along the Madone, just in case, but the day before the race it was the Cervelo I put in transition.

I would go on to set a couple new PR’s in the race. I finished in a time of 11:20, which was 20 minutes faster than my PR in Louisville and I did the bike course in 5:45 breaking my PR, once again from Louisville, by several seconds. Several seconds doesn’t seem like much, but Louisville is very flat and fast and Lake Placid is a very challenging course and it was over 20 minutes faster than I had done the bike course at Lake Placid. I again had found a new love. I would continue to ride the Madone for most of my training, but the Cervelo was now my go to race bike. I stripped the Madone of her aerobars for the first time since I bought her and made her into a true road bike again.

This fall as the tri season came to an end and winter started approaching I decided it was time to put the Cervelo away for the season. I continued to ride the Madone, but after having spent more money than I really could afford on the Cervelo, I was all the more concerned about damaging the Madone. I had been riding her the last few winters, but in the back of my mind I knew that if something happened I could scratch together enough money to buy a new bike. Maybe not as high a level of bike, but a decent one. This was no longer an option.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized it was time to break out the 1000 again. She hadn’t been pulled out of storage in a couple of years, but I figured with simple adjustments and cleaning I could have her ready to ride. So out she came, but unfortunately I soon realized that it was going to take a lot more work than I expected. The chain was rusted solid, the brakes weren’t working, the cables frayed and the tires were rotten. She looked so bad, I almost just took her straight out to the dumpster. But, I still had a bit of a soft spot for her and I really didn’t want to continue to risk the Madone, so I got to work.

I went online and ordered all of the parts I would need. When they came in I spent several hours tearing her apart, cleaning, installing the new parts, lubing and getting everything adjusted. It was hard work but when I was done she looked good and I couldn’t wait to get her out for a ride. The next day we went for 40 hilly miles together and with each passing mile my smile started to grow. I was falling in love again. She was old, she was heavy and she was low end, but I loved her and found resurgence in my love of riding. I hadn’t fallen out of love with riding, but it felt like falling in love again for the first time. I couldn’t believe that I had left her in storage for so long, but that was now corrected and I know she won’t be going back.

After all of these years I’m 100% hooked on cycling. I regret all of the years that I let slip away without the bike, but nothing I can do about it except to keep on riding. Every time a new bike comes along my passion is renewed and I fall back in love with the sport again. I even now have plans to get my 4500 back out of storage and get her fixed up as well. However, it is simple to figure out that it is riding that I truly love and that it’s not about the bike.

But, yet, it is…

A Rookie Mistake

Saturday, May 15th was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, sky was blue, air was warm and full of the scent of freshly cut grass and wild flowers and I had time for a ride. I wasn't going to be able to get in as long a ride as I would have liked, but a short ride is better than no ride. So, I pumped up my tires, changed my clothes, hopped on my bike and off I went.

I took off on a challenging 40 mile loop that I done many times. The challenge was not in the distance but in the number and size of the hills. On this route there was almost no such thing as flat. A number of the hills were some of the toughest I'd ever ridden. It is great training for Ironman Lake Placid because there is nothing on that course that can match a couple of the hills.

I was about midway through the ride when BAM! I blew my rear tire. This caught me as a shock because despite all of the riding I do it had been years since I'd flatted. I'm always very good at making sure I replace tires and tubes regularly before they get too many miles on them. I don't know whether that is part of why it had been so long or whether it was blind luck that I'd rode thousands of miles since my last flat.

Anyway, here I was 20 miles out on my ride, just having started my turn back and I had a flat. No big deal. I popped my rear wheel off, opened my bike bag, pulled out my multi-tool and slid off the nothing… My tire levers, which were supposed to be on the side of the tool, weren't there. I dug back into my bag, pulled everything out and still nothing. I searched the ground around me hoping I had dropped them and didn't see them. I frantically researched through everything, and still nothing.

Now I started to get concerned. How was I going to fix a flat without tire levers? And, where were mine? I sat there in the grass pondering what to do and turning my wheel hoping it would give an idea.

About midway through the first turn of the wheel I realized getting tire off was my smaller problem, I had a huge hole in my tire. It looked like the tire had literally disintegrated on me. As I looked further I found a second smaller hole. Even if I got tire off and repaired or replaced the tube it wouldn't matter. I would only be able to go a very short distance before the tire would blow again.

I started to realize I may have to do what I'd never done before, call to be picked up. After literally thousands of miles running and cycling I've always made it back in on my own. Distances may have been shortened and creativity pressed, but always I did it. But now it was starting to look like the streak was at an end. What was I to do? I started thinking about who might be around and able to help me.

While sitting there an idea came to me, it might render tube unrepairable, but I might be able to pry tire off with my keys. I also had a patch kit and could try and use patches to repair tire enough to get me home. I wasn't sure idea would work due to size of hole and the fact that the rest of the tire looked like it could disintegrate at any second, but it was worth a try.

Prying the tire off with keys wasn't that bad. I got it off almost as quickly as with tire levers. I quickly took tire fully off of wheel, stripped the tube out of it (which I stuck in jersey pocket so I wouldn't forget it) and set about patching the tire. I put 1 patch over the smaller cut and 4 over the big hole and another patch inside the hole. For a little extra protection incase patches didn't work, I folded up a $1 bill and stuck it on inside of tire covering hole.

Patching done, I put tire back on wheel, put in a new tube and finished mounting tire. I slowly and cautiously inflated tube with my CO2 checking carefully for leaks and signs of a problem. Once tire was fully inflated I put wheel back on bike, packed my tools and cautiously got back on my bike.

I rode slowly and tentatively at first and with each mile got a little more confident that my patch job would hold. As my confidence grew my pace quickened. I knew that even if patch held another part of tire could give way and leave me stranded, but I decided to make the most of whatever ride I may have left. As it turned out patch job and tire held the rest of the way home, almost 20 miles. In fact the patch was the strongest part of tire by the time I finished. In the remaining miles most of the remaining rubber bubbled up and was ready to go.

Over the course of the remaining miles I was slowly able to figure out what had happened. The previous season I had bought new wheels for the bike. The tires on the old wheels were due to be replaced, but since I took them off of the bike and put on the new ones I saw no reason to spend the money on them. Then, at the end of the season, I put the old wheels back on, to save wear and tear on the new ones if I did any riding over the winter. I never took the bike out all winter and over the 5 months I was off of the bike I forgot about changing the wheels back. When I started riding again, I assumed that it was on the fairly new tires and not the old shot ones. The fact that I had got any rides in without flatting to that point was actually pretty incredible.

As for the missing tire tools, the previous week I had used them to change the tubes on my girl friends bike. I wasn’t positive until I got home, but I realized that I must have left them on my coffee table after I was done, a simply, but almost costly mistake.

As far as mistakes go, the two I had made were rather simple, but both were something that I have enough experience with that should never have happened. I know to make sure that I do proper and regular maintenance on my bike and to check it before every ride. I know to replace worn part before they become a problem. I also know that I should always put my tools back when I’m done and that I should have everything I need with me when I go out on a ride, especially when I’m going solo. Despite this, I still found myself out in the middle of nowhere, and in danger of not being able to get back in. Fortunately, experience and a little ingenuity got me home, but it was a nice reminder to never just take things for granted and to make sure everything is set before heading out on a ride.