pink baby doll

Apparently, no matter how hard I try, it’s not going to go away. And everyone’s buzzing about it anyway. So, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, right?
Yeah, that’s right Valentine’s Day; you’re getting an undeserved shout-out. Happy now you fucked up, poor excuse for a holiday?
Now, now, don’t say I’m bitter, BECAUSE I’M NOT. No, really, I’m not. But judging by the sheer number of newspaper articles [whether this is really newsworthy is a completely different question, of course] advising the masochistic boyfriend on how to appease the Valentine-zilla that girlfriends tend to morph into come February 14th, the “holiday” consistently degenerates into the absurd well in advance of its celebration. Attached girls scramble to buy lace contraptions that will simultaenously push up and together while their single counterparts buy gallons of ice cream and too many cheesy movies on-demand. Meanwhile boyfriends try to devise ways not to get the life squeezed out of their balls, knowing full well that most things they do won’t cut it.

Why can’t this weekend be like any other? More importantly, why in God’s name did I have to choose this cursed holiday as the day I put down payment on my track bike frame almost a year ago?
And then I had to go with the pink cranks and rims. As if I needed another reminder of that one Valentine’s Day when - armed with courage that can only be derived from a persuasive best friend - I somehow ended up in a Victoria’s Secret dressing room in a pink, lacy babydoll. Patches of reason and logic did seep through from time to time [“what in the world am I doing?”], but it seemed like a good idea at the time.
Yeah, I know. How many bad frat boy stories have you heard that started with that line?

I suppose it applies quite well to my track bike, too. It seemed a good idea at the time to choose one gear over 21. It seemed a good idea at the time to spend too much on pink anchors for rims and a powdercoated front brake that’s just going to come off when the bike hits the track. It all seemed like a good idea at the time. Which is just another way of saying now that I think about it, what kind of drugs was I on?
Maybe a little bit of stupid, and a little bit of crazy. Or a lot of both, given the fact that I’m probably looking at a good year - two, if I stick to what I want - until I can afford to buy a solid road bike. But it was Valentine’s Day, and while I might think it’s ridiculous, no one said I was immune.
Besides, unlike that pink babydoll, I'm going to keep squeezing every drop of my investment out of that track bike. At least until knee failure.

snobby shorts

Being somewhat of a closet snob, I love the vague language of being in the know.
"Did you see--"
"Oh yeah."
"Unbelieveable, right?"
"But awesome."
"Exactly."
And, of course, I love it even more when this top secret, exclusive language is used in the context of bikes and blogs. I'm not talking about my own...No, no, leave it to someone far more meticulous and clever.

I'm talking about Velodramatic. His cycling photography is a-maz-ing, but what unfailingly becomes the topic of discussion amongst readers [i.e., those clearly in the know about good style, taste, and photography] is the discovery of his "tab." A list of every bike-related purchase investment he's made, complete with a grand tally, it displays what I normally would throw into the mental "ignore as much as possible" file cabinet. Obsessions can get out of control quite easily, and when paired with numbers and dollar signs, it's enough to make you consider trying to regain your sanity.
Of course, it doesn't work that way. Despite the shorter days [why is it getting dark at 7.30pm now?!] and the dwindling bank account, I made [what I believed would be] my final bike-related purchase for the next few months. And that was going to be it. I mean, other than a tube here and there and the odd bottle of lube, nothing substantial was going to be purchased. That was the promise.

But when I got my first ever pair of bike shorts a few days ago, it also opened a Pandora's box of "things I really need now that I have shorts." Because it feels like I'm finally making some leap; getting serious - for real this time - and committing to more hours and millions of miles on both of my bikes. No more of this "well, my saddle hurts" excuse. Pull on those black Lycra contraptions of diaper-esque proportions and get out and fucking ride.
And ride I did. This past weekend was bubbling over with bike rides - on the rollers and off. But that also had me discovering that those bike shorts weren't my final investment. Even with the shorts, the saddle on my Dolan still feels like a meat tenderizer, the cooler weather is oh-so-perfect for longer rides but also indicates a need for a new jersey, and eventually, arm warmers, leg warmers, gloves, and embrocation. And if I ever get to pushing hours on the rollers, another set of clipless pedals.

It adds up. Dizzyingly, in fact. And as the numbers creep skyrocket, I'm almost tempted to look around for a less expensive hobby [although, it's really debatable if those really exist]. But it seems I'm in it for the long haul - for life, even - so it's really not worth sweating all those minor details. At least that's what I've been telling myself lately, anyway.
Besides, deep, deep, deep down inside, maybe I subconsciously knew purchasing those shorts would mean entry into the snobbier sub-world of cycling where t-shirts absolutely cannot be paired with cycling shorts if you want to be taken seriously. Where black shoes are only for domestiques, and kits should perfectly match your team-issue bike. Which, admittedly, means many more purchases await me under a heavy cloud of potential debt.
Yeah, thank God for debit cards.