Achievement Unlocked: New Time Trial Bikes

When Jason and I entered our freshman year of triathlons, we didn’t want to invest much money into the sport because we were unsure as to whether or not we’d like it. Scientifically speaking, triathlons cost a buttload of money. There’s running shoes, triathlon shorts, tri tops, proper running socks, visors, sunglasses, wetsuits, bikes, helmets, bike shoes, fuel, fuel and more fuel, not to mention the cost to sign up for races. That all adds up to a BUTT LOAD of cash. It ain’t cheap. But let me get back to the whole bike thing. Holy shit, if triathlons themselves cost a buttload then the bikes are like an ass cheek’s worth of money. Bikes are expensive! I had no idea they cost as much as they did! I had a pink and purple 10-speed Huffy when I was in elementary school and that thing probably set my parents back a couple hundred bucks at K-Mart, so I figured that good bikes cost like $1,000 or so, right? Wrong. They cost an ass cheek, which is why for our first tri season Jason and I were like “Eff this, we’ll borrow some bikes.” We then proceeded to remain the laughingstock of our training group until about November 2008. For about nine months I rocked out on my coworker Christine’s aluminum Giant, which was built for teeny people but weighed a ton (adding to the weight were mountain bike pedals that I was too lazy to change). The bike was too small for me (Christine’s 5’1″ and I’m 5’5″ — even with my stumpy legs, that’s a considerable size difference) and I never got a proper adjustment, so I rode on a bike that didn’t fit me for an entire season. Here’s a picture of me and Christine’s bike after the Victoria Half Ironman: Notice how it’s sportin’ the aero bars. Putting aero bars on that heavy mofo is kind of like ordering a Diet Coke with your triple quarter pounder with cheese, but I did stick aero bars on it (mostly so I could drink without having to wobbily reach down and grab a bottle from my cage — I’ve since gotten better at doing that). I also put new tires on the bike after I tore the rear one during my first sprint triathlon (I’ll get to that in a future post). While I had made some modifications to the bike, it never felt like mine, and after I decided that I liked racing, it was time to go shopping for a bike I could call my own. Jason, meanwhile, was tearin’ it up on his dad’s old, old, old bike. Here’s a picture of it: Haha, just kidding. The bike isn’t that old. Jason’s dad has a Klein that’s about 20 years old and has the shifters down on the frame. Now that’s old school. My racing buddy borrowed the bike the whole season and stubbornly raced with it amongst the fancy Cervelos, Scotts, Felts, Gurus, and Quintana Roos. You can sort of see the Klein in the above pic where Jason is in T1 at the Victoria Half Ironman. Though it ain’t much to look at, the bike did get Jason through a half dozen races this year (and he passed his fair share of athletes on fancy $3,000 time trial bikes. Suck it, losers!). Jason made some much needed upgrades to the bike as well — the front derailleur needed replacing and he also swapped out the seat. Much like me, however, Jason didn’t have a bike of his own and wanted to join his fellow athletes in the 21st century with upgraded, lighter technology....