sour grapes.

today was a gorgeous day to ride.

it was pretty hot, and a little windy, but it's the kind of day that we in toronto have waited for for the past 8 months, and it was the kind of day that one could get a sunburn, a windburn, and a hangover, all at once, and love it.

my frame is cracked.

i spent the day walking around with the girls, sweating, buying juice and laundry detergent, doing chores, and cheering on the riders at the toronto criterium. it would be a fine way to pout.

i learned last weekend that one of the unfortunate sides to cleaning one's things is that one may discover the last thing one wants to discover underneath all of the grime: an imperfection. the imperfection i discovered last weekend went far beyond a mere scratch or ugly weld bead. it was a crack. a long crack, starting in the weld and finishing on the other side of the seat tube. i guess that explains all the clicking noise while i climb.

at first, i didn't believe it.

then i yelled an expletive, tossed the rag, and went inside to tell someone, anyone, that something really bad had just happened. and all the while, i couldn't really believe it, but i kind of wanted to, because i knew something was up with that clicking sound while i climbed, and i always wondered about an excuse to buy a real racing bike and...

shit.

the frame's cracked. the foundation of my entire venture into bikes and road bikes and racing and training and everything else has been compromised. building that bike brought me to bike shops across the city, baby in chest carrier, in search of rare and specific parts or tools. it made me learn all about campagnolo and 8 speed and then 10 speed. i had to re-learn how to build wheels. i built relationships with quirky mechanics down the street, living the dream and charging way too little to solve my hardest problems with ease. that bike brought me closer to my dad. he found the frame on ebay when i asked him to help me snipe another, much cheaper, much less fancy frame. he paid for half of it. he rode more when i brought it up to his house and we rode together. that frame got me through two centuries. that frame got me back into climbing, and road bikes altogether. riding that bike made me eat better and train harder and shave my legs again. i had a lot to live up to, riding a bike like that. that frame weighs about as much as the brooks b17 i put on it when i first built it. that frame has class, is a conversation starter, got me onto the serotta forum, made me learn about generosity and the finer points usually reserved for true bike snobs. that bike got me into and through my first bike race.

and now it's cracked.

it's okay. i called serotta and they can fix it for about twice as much as i paid for the frame. and it'll take a couple months. and i'll have to pay for shipping. and it won't be the same. and that pissed me off. i knew i wasn't getting serotta guarantee or warranty when i bought a used frame off of ebay, but it never occurred to me that serotta could mean breakable, certainly not in titanium! it wouldn't really be that big of a deal if i had the cash lying around to just get the thing fixed, or just ride another bike, or just buy another bike, or just buy another frame. but i don't. ITTET, i'm dirt poor, living paycheck to paycheck and hoping for a summer job. groceries aren't getting any cheaper, and the girls aren't eating any less. 

thankfully, i came to my senses and asked around and got some advice and now the frame looks like it'll be repaired within 10 days. i'll build it up again next weekend. it will be glorious. i will learn more. i will ride it harder. it will be truly custom. i will know it so much better. i can't wait. thank goodness for tragedy; here comes fortune!

anticlimactic.

it was supposed to be three degrees and sunny today.

it was three degrees and sunny today. however, today is thursday, which means that today is ballet day which means that before and after the hours of 'work', every minute is spoken for by the demon-god of the snowsuit and his/her corollary partner, the mitten god. winter sucks when you have to dress a toddler for any weather beyond 'naked' or 'beautiful and sunny and perfect'. regardless, it was three degrees and sunny, and i went out in it for no reason at any chance i got.

i had resolved yesterday, upon hearing news of this wondrous forecast, to take out the old titanium dream machine and give'r on some hill reps just for the fun of it. really though, i'm suffering from substantial cabin fever and a not-so-subtle longing for higher temperatures, longer days, and a lot less clothing on me and most other people (toddlers among top of the list). sunset happens before we even get home from ballet. i mean, there is a whole lot of sex appeal to sorels and fur-trimmed parkas, but it wears off after about 5 minutes of trudging through snow. and every castelli ad for endless climbs and form-fitting clothing that's built for sun protection instead of windchill tolerance really doesn't help. i am dying to ride in the sun. i would love to have to take extra water because it's humid and sticky and so hot no one should exercise in such weather. and if i spend any more time on my computer, trolling craigslist and the serotta forum for all the groupsets i can't afford (anyone got $500 lying around? come on: it's like a third of the actual price! and my shifting could use some help lately...) and saddles that won't feel like my granny-looking b17, i will end up buying something i don't need for a ride or race that i just wish i could do. and then i'll have to wait three more months anyway to even be able to ride outside without corroding my everything with road salt, only the wait will be even worse because i'll be doing it staring at an even more impeccable machine than usual. ARX stems going for good low prices. carbon setback seatposts just waiting to be joined to lightweight and trendy fizik saddles under brand new bib short chamois. ah, the list goes on. and there's still enough salt on the road to pay a legion of roman soldiers to build it. no serotta today. too salty.

however, the serotta is titanium. this means all kinds of good things for its resistance to corrosion, but only the frame. lots of other stuff on it is aluminum, another non-corrosive element, but there's just something so nasty about crunching over salt. salt seems to mean death and dehydration and punishment. i don't want to punish the serotta. but i do want to punish myself up some hills and test out that new compact crank i got in honor of getting old recently. maybe i'll go out and do it and then come home and shower with it. put a plastic bag over the old brooks and lovingly lather down the metal bits. we'll see.

either way, i still need a sunburn, a warm day, and some sweat in my jersey. here's to chinook.