The Transformation
Last September I went along with our dear mechanic Tito Blann to attend the greatest show on Earth known to us cyclist - Interbike 2011 in Las Vegas. There before my eyes lay thousands upon thousands of mouth watering goodies cycling enthusiasts can only dream of. It took me three days to digest most of what was shown on the trade show. To me, a big fan of French Bikes - the Look display was especially stunning. There I was able see up close the 25th Anniversary Edition of my beloved bike 695 in matte black carbon along with all the nice trimmings - Super Record drive train, Lightweight Wheels, etc. It was mesmerizing. Unfortunately when I inquired about the price - it also came in a shock. This rig was priced comparably to a nicely equipped Honda Civic.
In essence I came home with nothing but a Kurt Kinetic Trainer I bought at a rock bottom price. Still the vivid images of that bike lingered on my mind for weeks. There is no way my wife would agree of parting our hard earned savings for such a fleeting fancy, or is it? Nah, I came to grips with reality that for the time being other things proved to be more pressing. I diagnosed myself of simply having an acute case of bike worship. Yes, this disease is rampant among the Siklista ranks. You can't help it - each Saturday is like a mini Interbike in itself. We love our bikes so much that we make them an object of our fancy.
A rude awakening came in the form of a hideous performance in the Texas State Road Race. My first ever DNF on a TXBRA event and on that day I promised myself never to quit again. So my solution - bury myself on "other things" like making myself a better cyclist. Training became the centerpiece of my sport. I spent hours upon hours on the sweatbox. Shorter days did not hinder me; I invested on Niteriders to get around at night. Small victories followed - an age group win on the Siklista TT and a 3rd place finish in ToG ITT to close out the season. As I look back I learned a thing or two during the 2011 season. I also sensed a turning point in my perspective in cycling. Legs power the rig no matter what it is. Just as young Andy Jacobs would kill us week after week riding his old rusty Litespeed. An epiphany came through - the bike is merely a tool for me now and not an object for me to adore.
During the Houston Marathon, my good friend Marlon ran the 26.2 mile course in 3 hrs 38 mins. It was a sensational performance. After the race I couldn't help but notice the shoes he was wearing. It was a pair we bought together in the summer of 2010 during our experimentation with Duathlons. I asked him why he was still using those shoes. With a smile, his answer was simple It's not about the shoes.
