The brutal, brutal bike (and I got my new tri-bike yesterday)

My new bike:


In keeping of the spirit of other Tri-Bloggers, it came into my hands just by pure luck. See I pushed over a little girl at the park, filed a police report that it had been stolen and voila…it was returned to me safe and sound. A bike is a bike, no matter what those non-elite, non-professional athletes try to tell me.

All jokes aside…

A lot of people (ahem: who participate in triathlon do not give the bike segment nearly enough credit. I think there’s kind of a going in fallacy where noobs think “I’ve been riding a bike forever, what could be so hard?

Well, let me tell you.

I had an hour to get a ride in today before I had to take my truck over for some work (where I am as we speak). It’s an average spring/summer day and the winds are present (to say the least). Not as bad as some places in the country, but enough that when you ride a loop, 1/2 of your ride is going to feel like hitting a brick wall. I wanted to knock out 20 miles today. I have the Garmin, I have the bike (my old road bike), I have the route, I have two legs and I had the time.

I hit a huge crack in the pavement not 25 meters from my house and blew a tire. I walked back to the house to take advantage of my big bike pump and to take a spare tube from my bin. Basically although it was a couple minutes longer to go home, it allowed me to keep my “on the road” kit all in one piece without having to dig through and repack it. But all in all it cost me about 12 minutes.

So now my 60 minute ride is down to 48 minutes. So if I keep my average planned pace, I’m going to lose roughly 5 miles of today’s ride. The first 30 minutes went ok, but mostly headwind so I was much slower than I wanted to be, but as much as I hate it, riding into the wind is a great workout.

At minute 31, I was cruising along and a goddamned Gila Monster waddled out into the bike lane. Yes a Gila Monster. I couldn’t stand the thought of running him over so I ducked out of the way and smashed my front tire into a rock, this caused me to wobble, grab the too much brake and popped my rear tire from an unseen thorn, a pokey rock, the friction or a combination of all the above.

I walked far enough away from the Gila Monster so as to not cause any more conflict and sat on the curb and got to work  to repair my flat. I repaired without much difficulty but at this point I was running out of time to get home, get changed and get my truck. So I had to cut my route even shorter and make a b-line for home and still ended up being late.

So from a planned 20 miles I was down to 10.2. I accomplished half of my planned training for today and I really don’t have the time to make it up.

The bottom line is, the bike is a brutal, brutal event. It’s even harder in triathlon because the lack of drafting and the lack of road side support. Anyone ( who doesn’t take it seriously is in for a rude, rude awakening.

On to my real new Tri-Bike…


Seriously, that’s it. My brother in law who I’ve mentioned before as being a semi-pro is letting me use his bike while he’s off becoming a gilded young Navy Officer. I’m so stoked, I can hardly contain myself. Why is it still in the box? Well, he’s a little nervous about his umpteen thousands of dollars tri-bike in the hands of such a rank amatuer. Thus he asked that I have it professionally reassembled and get a new wheel set.

I promise that the bikes in the background are not there for effect, but since they snuck their way into the picture, from left to right…my road bike, my sons bike, my daughters new mountain bike. Apparently two wheel sports aren’t something we take lightly.

3 thoughts on “The brutal, brutal bike (and I got my new tri-bike yesterday)

  1. Funny how this blog about a training blog has far more content than the subject blog. It’s almost as if the author of the subject blog has nothing to write about. How could that be? One would think all of those workouts would produce something worth writing about.

  2. You are ride about the bike being brutal. I’m kind of watching Regan’s drama this with no small amount of fascination. At age 42, weighing 165 lbs, i was the last last official finisher of the inaugural Ironman Kentucky. I spent the summer doing century rides in 90 degree heat in my home town a mile above sea level, after doing olympic distance and 70.3 for two years. The only reason I was a finisher at all was because in an unusual move they kept the finish line open longer than usual. I’m utterly mystified as to how she expects to finish this. Even AZ has long, shallow climbs.

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