Road Bike + Clips [Adventures in Riding]

Last week, Kim S. bought a road bike.

On Saturday before the Hot Chocolate run, Kim A, Kim S. and myself talked about riding this weekend. Kim S. said she is concerned about getting comfortable with her clips. She said everyone she's talked to has a story about falling while clipped in. Kim A. said she wouldn't mind getting one last ride in, and I agreed.

Kim S. said she had yet to ride her bike outside, but had practiced in the store.

I bring up Kim's nerves about clips because I certainly have them. Even still. Even after owning my bike for over two years. Granted, I managed to fall walking up stairs earlier this week, but even still...clips are tricky.

Clips are a godsend to riding efficiently and at the same time a curse. That is, until the act of clipping in and out becomes second nature. Some of us seem to get to that 'second nature' phase faster than others.

What happens if it takes someone awhile to get in tune with their clips?

They fall. A lot.

Here's the thing about falling off a bike - it hurts. It hurts a lot more now than it did when I was a kid. There's no way to avoid the attention you'll attract when you do fall - it's quite a sight.

Not to scare Kim, of course. I have a feeling it's taken me longer than most. She may jump right in them and go on Saturday.

Either way, here are some videos from LiveStrong to refresh my memory and get her acquainted with the process:

Getting Clipped in:



Getting Out:

Metlife Duathlon

2010 is the year of 3rd's, including the third year I've done the MetLife 'Race Around the World' Duathlon in Tinley Park.

The race consists of a 2 mile run, 11 mile bike, and finishing leg of another 2 mile run.

The race is conveniently held the same weekend the Marathon training group does a (small) 5 mile run, so I tend to take a pass on Saturday morning's run and get ready for race day on Sunday.

Jim's parents, Tricia and my parents come to watch this race. It's great to have their support.

I go through a cycle of emotions with this race - excitement, fear. Although I've placed in the top ten of my age division the last two years, I'll still think of the short running distances and worry that I can't compete with my slower run times.

But, the key to the duathlon is the bike. Somehow I forget that.

Jim's been competing in this race for a number of years, including taking home 1st in his age division the last few years. He's the one that talked me in to signing up for the race shortly after he'd talked me in to the road bike.

Jim's all about getting to the race early. Like, three hours early. The bike racks are set up around 5:00 and sometimes he's the first one there. Getting a prime position on the bike rack (preferably an end) is ideal. For the most part, I've followed suit in getting there early(er) as well. Once you've set up your bike, you can watch as others come with their bikes and size up the competition.

In general, my thought process is something like this:
The more expensive the bike the more likely I'll be beat.
A roadbike in general = direct competition
Mountain bike? I'll be passing you soon enough.

Then the race starts - It's done in waves - Men under 40, then over. Women under 40, then over, then teams. Each with a two to three minute gap in between.

I'd say I tend to be towards the end-of-the-middle part of the pack, maintaining around a 9:15-9:30 mile.

Coming in to the transition, I can't wait to get on the bike. I tend to ride hard from the get go. I pass many on the 11 mile ride. I pass by some of the younger guys who had a 4 to 6 minute start on me. I tell myself the better lead I can get on the bike, the better off I'll be when I get off of it.

By the time I'm out of the second transition, Jim's already finished with the race - and I have a two mile run ahead of me. It takes a few minutes to get your land legs back from the bike. At this point in the race you just have to push though.

This year had was hot at the start. People were breathing hard coming up on the first mile. Coming back in to transition, I was concerned about the heat myself. I figured getting some wind on my face would help. Shortly after jumping on the bike, clouds moved in and the wind picked up. Toward the end of the ride, it looked as if the skies were going to open up any minute. I was riding harder thinking of how bad it would be to be stuck on the bike in a downpour. Luckily, I made it in to T2 and was out running for a few minutes before the storm moved in. The last mile was a complete downpour.

2008 and 2009's finishing time were within :30 of each other, right around 1:17. This year, with the crazy weather as my excuse, I came in a little more than a minute behind at 1:18:54. [13th in my age division]

Bike to Work Week

I'll admit it, I'm a fair weather rider.

You won't see me out there in the cold or riding down Milwaukee.

In terms of riding my bike to work, I have it made. I ride straight south - around 9 miles - to work.

I spend the first mile going through Loyola University's campus and a brief venture down a side street parallel to Sheridan. Then I hit the beginning/end of the lakefront path. The next 8 miles is smooth sailing [well, all dependent on the wind].

I was on ride this morning approaching Fullerton when I saw people along the path cheering for me, thanking me for riding my bike to work. There was a pit stop at Fullerton, complete with coffee and Clif Bars. Apparently it's Ride Your Bike to Work week, and some people are quite excited about it.

It IS pretty cool to ride your bike to work.

Especially when you get to pick off guys on mountain bikes along the way. That never gets old.

I met a TREK 1500D

I should have blogged this story back when it happened (April 2008). It's too good to not enter it. So here's the story of the day I met my bike.

I set up a 'date' with Jim, my best friend's boyfriend. Jim is an Ironman. He takes his training very seriously.

So when I mentioned I wanted to get a bike and wanted his input, he took over.

I was thinking of getting a hybrid.

Jim said 'If you get a hybrid, you'll want a road bike once all the road bikes are passing you.'

Tricia, Jim and I enter Village Cycle.

Like a sixth sense, Jim gravitated towards the road bikes. Before a salesman could come over to help, Jim said 'Ok, this is the deal. You can get this bike (a red TREK) or this bike (the Discovery Channel Team bike, which is the one I got).'

He then went into an explanation of why, using bike terminology I was unfamiliar with. All the salesman could do was nod his head. Apparently Jim knew his shit.

The salesman measures me. I need a 60 CM frame. I am huge! :)

Jim is amazed and nicknames me the '60 CM wonder.'

The rest of the sale involves Jim pointing to what I should get and the salesman nodding his head. I end up getting clips, bike cleats, a bike computer... the entire deal.

We go to check out and I about lose my breakfast. Jim tells me that I'm going to love it and have no regrets. So I go through with it.

I go back to Village Cycle later that day to pick up the bike with all the stuff put on it. The salesman puts the bike on a trainer and says I can take as long as I want getting familiar with it.

I decide I'm tough and I take the bike out of the store, pack it in my car and drive it home.

Now I'm home and I have the bike shoes on. I'm somehow going to get on this bike, clip myself in and ride.

Before I get out of the alley, I've run into two of my neighbor's cars, but now I'm moving.

I ride incident free down to Foster.

On my way back, I clip out and I'm sitting at the light at Ardmore and Sheridan. I start looking around at the cars passing by and lean too far to my clipped in side and fall over. An old guy driving by in a big Buick stops his car and asks me if I'm ok. Yes, I say, I'm fine.

I start riding again and get up to Kenmore and Devon. This time, I completely forget that I'm clipped in and wipe out at the red light. A Loyola student walking by asks if I'm ok. To which I reply 'Yes, I'm just learning'. I am certain she thought I meant just learning to ride a bike, but it really doesn't matter.

Point being, I now have this really dangerous machine and I'm no good at riding it.

What did Jim get me in to?