The line between where my old myspace blog finished and this blog began is blurry, so forgive me if told you this before. I have a bike. His name is Schwinnderlei Silva. He is a simple hybrid Schwinn that came home with me sometime in 2007 after an impulse buy in the aisles of Target (aren’t most purchases at Target made that way?) Schwinnderlei has been a loyal bike on the handful of neighborhood rides I’ve actually taken, and one 32 mile organized ride, complete with crazy headwinds and a group full of road bikes that left us in the dust. And that pretty much sums up my cycling resume for my adult life.
inexperience aside, as I sit here with the goal of diving into the world of multi-sport, I covet a brand new fancy pants road bike. (Ok, secretly, I covet a hot pink triathlon bike, but I figure I should take baby steps. After all, you don’t let the teenager take a spin in the Lamborghini on their first day of drivers ed, now do you. ) I’ve actually been meaning to get into the sport of triathlon for quite some time now. But something always got in the way. Last time, that something was a brand new pregnancy, which I discovered the day after my first triathlon clinic meeting. But now, the time has finally come. I’m registered, no turning back, for Irongirl sprint triathlon. I’ve set up an appointment for swim instruction. And, most excitedly, I’ve been given the go ahead from the family budget to buy a bike. A REAL bike.
But I do wonder what size jersey I would need to be able to fill “I’m absolutely terrified out here, please take pity on me and give me a 15 foot radius, thank you and have a great day, by the way you are looking fantastic this morning, is that a new haircut?” all on the back.
Tell me this too shall pass?