I’ll admit, whenever reading about triathlon, I get a little “fingers-in-the-ears, La La La… Sorry, were you talking to me?” when it comes to bikes, bike details and bike shopping. Like wine (I like red, not white), I knew I wanted a road bike, not a mountain bike or a hybrid, but beyond that? Heck if I know.

All the books say, “If you are a beginner triathlete, don’t buy a new bike! Just ride with what you have.” Which makes the monumental leap that I’ve owned a bike at some point in the past, oh, 25 years.

So, a little panic-attacky, I crutched my way into more than a few stores this weekend in search of a bike. Let me just put this out there, Rob is a motherhumpin’ TROOPER for his help in this quest.

Stop One: Sports Basement Bryant. I love Sports Basement, so I assumed this would be a one-stop and I’d walk out with a new bike, all set up and ready to go. But, not sure if it’s because I was on crutches or what, but we walked the rows of bikes. Looking at price tags and me talking (in my everyday-voice, which I hear sounds a lot like it’s being amplified through a stadium PA system), about how I needed some help with knowing what I should be looking for, etc.  Salespeople asked several people within earshot if they needed help, but nobody came up to ask us. Maybe I was feeling a little overwhelmed, delicate and passive-aggressive, but I decided that they’d not get my biking buck. (I should have pulled a Julia Roberts while crutching down the stairs… “I have money to spend here, people!”)

At any rate, I imagine they will get plenty of my money in future as I travel this path, but it was a bummer for sure. (“BIG Mistake. Huge mistake.”)

Stop Two: ReMatch Sports, Pacific at Polk.  So, the guy was pretty nice despite being totally thrown by a chick on crutches storming through the door declaring that she’d like to buy a bike, but doesn’t know how to ride one, and thus can’t take it for a test ride. (Incidentally, aside from the crutches, I did the same thing when I went in to buy my stick-shift Miata. I learned on the go. “The go” being 101 between San Jose and San Francisco after I’d already signed on the dotted line.)

The guy was nice, but clearly had no idea what I wanted/needed in a bike.  I told him specifically that I wanted a road bike, that I wouldn’t be riding it around the city, etc., but he kept on forgetting these things and talking about “a great beater bike for a commute.”  But, he did let me set a bike up on a trainer (which will be my best friend for the next few weeks) to get size. From this trip, I learn that I am a size 48-50.

I’ll admit, I had a little crush on the Felt roadbike they had me use on the trainer.  She’s a real cutie. But I was in that “do I spend next-to-nothing on a bike I can just learn on, or more-than-something on a bike I’ll have for a while” mode. $745 was a bit tough to handle. (And, when I got home and researched, I realize that bike sold new at retail for $799. So not a deal at all.)

But, the visit is not a total loss– He tells me I can bring them my snowboard and boots to consign (another failed sporting venture for me– to the tune of one broken arm) when I want to upgrade to aerobars, and I also walk out with a $200 Cycle Ops magnetic trainer for $90.  Verdict: Great place to browse, but might not be specifically-knowledgeable about the sport you are interested in.  (I told him about my failed attempt at learning to skateboard fifteen years ago and he spent more time trying to tell me how to skateboard than he did what to do with the $800 hunk of carbon fiber and rubber I had in front of me.)

Stop Three: “That weird little Bike Shop around the corner from Dave’s” Total fail. They had no used bikes made, just custom build-outs of used gear (in the $1000-range.) I swear I’d seen some more pedestrian models lashed together on the sidewalk before. Guess not. He does, however, send us back to a place I’d seen earlier on the way to brunch…

Stop Four: Refried Cycles.  On first glance, this place didn’t look like they really had anything for me. But, the very helpful guy starts talking to us more. He clearly understands my goals, he is talking knowledgeably about what I would do to a bike if/when I get more purpose-focused on tri. He talks about the value proposition of various bikes.

They have a sweet little 50cm LeMond Zurich. I know who Greg LeMond is. I have heard of Shimano, who made all the breaks and shifters. You shift with the brake-thingies (technical term), so I am very into that. The guy at the shop shortens the stem a little for me for free (I now know what “shortening the stem” means!), and, though I have to pay a little more, I get pedals that I can either use my spinning shoes with or not. He also swaps the seat for one that I might like a little more, though any bike is gonna need some personalizing for sure.  But, he’s mine. And his name is Greg. Here he is, chilling next to my Prohibition era bar and my foam roller:

So, yes, I’m a little freaked because Greg was on the upper end of my pricerange, but he did retail for $1800 new and the internet shows that I paid a fair price ($650+the pedals.) And, I know who Greg LeMond is, I think the colors blue and yellow are fresh and fast and, plus, I hear that there is a vintage cycle kind of groupy/thingy-ma-bob (technical term again, sorry) where they think this kind of light, steel, vintage roadbike is rad.

So, even though the books say “Don’t buy a new bike, just use the bike you already have,” I am trying to get used to the idea that this is “the bike I already have.”  To the moon, Greg!