Cycling - The Racing Post

Cycle Logic - Bike Lust - The Story Continues

By Diana North

I’m about to share the sordid details of my unique affliction in the hopes it may help others who find themselves in the same situation. As some readers know, I contracted a serious case of bike lust last year. I won’t go into details—I’m not the kiss-and-tell type. Suffice it to say that I’m not getting any younger and the bikes just keep getting more and more enticing…until pretty soon I was looking at the proverbial green grass on the other side of the cycling fence.

Fortunately, most of my friends are still speaking to me.

Well, dear readers, I’ve moved on because there’s a new bike in the stable at last. My family has learned that there are some things beyond understanding. They are not asking any questions about why my trusty old Trek is resting, pedal-less, along the wall while the new Litespeed rests smugly on the bike rack. Maybe they don’t want to hear the answer. I’ve fallen for a new bike, again.

Of course, I flirted a whole lot before I found my new love. It seemed unwise not to, given the financial commitment bike ownership requires. Not satisfied with selecting the first ride I threw my leg over, I shamelessly test rode everything I could find. One day, a sales guy even let me ride his bike. I accepted, of course.

This flurry of flirting lasted eighteen months. But now that I’ve got the new ride—I know it was worth the wait. Of course, anyone who traded their savings account for a bicycle knows that this is the honeymoon phase of the relationship. But that’s another column.

Now comes the part where I hope to spare readers much confusion. Take it from me: when it comes to selecting a new bike, don’t listen to anyone but yourself. Or, listen to absolutely everyone—and then make your own decision. Either way, prepare to be temporarily miserable in spite of all the excitement.

You’d think shopping for a new bike would be a straightforward thrill. Alas, it is until you arrive at decision time. Then, you’re likely to hear lots of opinion sprinkled with questionable facts. You’ll be given more advice than a newlywed with seven mothers-in-law.

Is carbon fiber really the very best material in the world for a bike frame? How important is weight (for the bike, that is, not the rider because that would mean eliminating doughnuts and ice cream)? Then there’s frame geometry, component choices, wheel set loyalties, paint schemes, saddles, pedals, handlebar types and tapes (old school cork or gel). Just selecting tire weight, color and flat resistance is enough to drive one mad.

Not to mention to the poorhouse.

Then there’s the other bugaboo. After empting my wallet and doing a brief dance of joy in the parking lot—I discovered my performance hopes were up too high. I figured I’d be faster overnight but it didn’t happen. Now instead of whining about my bike envy, I’m whining about leg burn and poverty.

So I’m on a strict financial diet now that I’ve brought the object of my desire home. These days I’m eating cheap candy bars instead of women-specific energy bars with pretty wrappers. I stopped buying magical endurance powders because my new budget says diluted Gatorade and fig bars are good enough. But it’s okay. Relationships require sacrifice and compromise. And, of course, a sense of humor.