I've Got to Ride Like the Wind to Be Free Again...
I was straightening up things downstairs, trying to find more stuff to sell on eBay, Craigslist, and Marketplace, when my focus was drawn to a bicycle Susan bought me for my 40th birthday. I'm 69…
Back in 1995, I tore my meniscus cartilage working and limped around for months, swallowing 800 mg of Ibuprofen every six hours so I could continue earning a living. I swallowed so much of it that I ended up with a bleeding ulcer. That's when I started gulping mouthfuls of Pepto-Bismol to ease the effect of the anti-inflammatory on my stomach lining.
After the second cortisone shot didn't work, it was time for arthroscopic surgery. They sedated me, put me in twilight, and nipped at the tear, leaving as much healthy cartilage as possible. I was a self-employed plumber with three kids. Back then, they didn't prescribe physical therapy; they made me sit out for six weeks before I was allowed to walk. We pissed through our savings.
As soon as they gave me the green light, I started walking outside to strengthen my knee. I responded well to the exercise and was back lumping water heaters and toilets in no time.
I was installing some baseboard heat in my friend Ricky's basement when I had to move his new road bike out of the way. It weighed practically nothing. When Ricky got home, I asked him about it, and he said it was a Cannondale, made in Connecticut, one of the lightest aluminum bikes ever produced. He told me I'd love biking and it would be good exercise for my surgically repaired knee…
I continued walking outside during the winter and spring, doing as many as six miles at a time. As I approached my 40th birthday in mid-June, Susan told me I could either have a kickass backyard party with friends and musical entertainment, maybe our favorite, Brooks Williams, or I could buy a new bicycle, but I could only have one…
I knew the party would be memorable, but I also knew a bicycle would help me get my fitness back and that cycling would be something I could do for the rest of my life…
It was a tough decision, but I decided on the bicycle. I ended up getting a Trek Singletrack 950, a rigid mountain bike I fitted it with semi-slick Continental Goliath tires like the cops used. I trained on the road daily, and in no time, I dropped some unneeded pounds and started improving my fitness.
I went on some group rides with some roadies who were riding expensive bikes, like Pinarello, Colnago, and Paramount, and wearing colorful Lycra cycling kits. They looked at my mountain bike, and by then I had mounted aero bars on it, my old gray sweatpants, and long-sleeve off-white thermal top, and everyone agreed, I looked like a fucking plumber!
It must've been humiliating for them to have someone who looked like a plumber riding a mountain bike, hanging in their high-end pack, but I did.
That's when my buddy urged me to buy a road bike with drop bars and to start wearing legit biking gear and not work clothes.
I bought his friend's heavily-used Schwinn Premis, and Susan got me some Lycra padded cycling shorts and colorful cycling shirts, the kind with the rear pockets I had trouble reaching. I added SPD pedals, some Specialized shoes, and became a more legit cyclist.
The road bike was much lighter than the mountain bike, 21 lbs versus 32. It took me out of the more upright position and into an aero tuck where I could cheat the wind. I trained like a madman, started doing team duathlons and triathlons with a friend of mine who ran and swam competitively, and we were winning. I was hooked. By buying me the mountain bike for my 40th birthday, Susan had unknowingly created a monster, and she had to deal with my two-wheeled mistresses, and there would be many…
Over the years, I've bought and sold close to 65 bicycles. One time, I found a used KHS Aero Turbo on eBay for short money, but I already had about eight used bikes at the time, and Susan was starting to put her foot down. My healthy obsession with bicycles had spiraled out of control, and I had to stop, according to her.
I wanted the "Zinn, Hed, and Boone" aero creation. Lennard Zinn (Zinn Cycles, author, technical writer for VeloNews), Steve Hed (HED Cycling, aero wheels), and Boone Lennon (inventor of aero bars) had designed and created a frame they labeled the ZH2B, and it was as fucking sexy as it was fast.
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Despite it being used and needing some TLC, I was smitten. I put together a solid plan on how I could acquire it and get it in the house without Susan ever knowing. It involved my UPS guy, my oldest son Mike, who was in middle school at the time, and a wooden 4-barrel container I built that sat at the top of my driveway.
The UPS guy knew to put the bike box in the barrel container, and Mike knew that when he got home from school, he was to carry the box inside and into my bike room in the basement, and shut the door behind him. I knew the exact day the bike was coming and got the willing participants prepped and ready to do their part.
I decided to leave Mike a note on the kitchen table so he wouldn't forget. Sometimes Susan would empty the trash out of her car after work, and I didn't want her to see the bike box in the barrel container.
The note was simple. "Hey Mike! Remember to take the bicycle box out of the barrel container and put it in my bike room as soon as you get home from school. Make sure you close the container and shut the door downstairs. We don't want Mum to see it. Thanks! - Dad"
When I called Mike to remind him, he had already gotten the bike inside. It's always great when a plan comes together, and I had to smile. My son had proven himself to be a worthy partner in crime…
Like a fine-tuned machine, my co-conspirators did their jobs with "Ocean's 11" like precision…
I arrived home that afternoon with all the calm of a successful jewel thief and a post-sex-like bounce in my step. But then the mood changed when I was greeted unkindly by my beautiful wife. She was standing at the kitchen table, note in hand. Apparently, I left out the part about eating the note or throwing it away, and Mike left it in plain sight on the kitchen table…
Susan was like, "What's this, Vin? Did you buy another bike?"
After a deep breath, I exhaled slowly and came clean. I could only shake my head and look at Mike in disgust, disappointed in his failure to execute the plan.
Susan was only mad for a couple of days. She understood my obsession…
After she passed in May of this year, I started walking outside, which was difficult because we had walked together for years before she got sick. But I did it, and it got easier.
Then, I saw the Trek mountain bike hanging high on a pipe rack I built for it years ago, and after staring at it for a few minutes, I decided to take it down…
I cleaned the frame. Cleaned and lubed the chain. Then I pumped up the tires, and they held air. I decided to take it for a ride that afternoon. I fully believed I was gonna collapse and be taken by ambulance to the nearest emergency room, but I was willing to take that risk…
But something weird happened. I suddenly had incredible energy and motivation. After all, it was the bike Susan bought me for my 40th birthday, and I'm sure she'd want me to start riding it again.
I didn't do the 21-mile daily training ride that became routine back in the day, but I did ten miles, and it felt damn good! The entire time I was thinking about Susan, and riding the bicycle instantly became another connection to her and all the fond memories we created together…
It is the night, my body's weakI'm on the run, no time to sleepI've got to ride, ride like the windTo be free again…