Sixteen-Hundred Dollar Shoestring

If I don't finish the race, then MAYBE I'll have something bigger to fess up to than what I'm 'bout to fess up. Maybe.

I bought a bike, and its fantastic. I spent $1600.
How much is that to me? Two months' rent. Somewhere not much less than one month's paycheck. Twice my annual car insurance premium. 53 months of gym membership. 20 pairs of running shoes. Probably the approximate Blue Book value of my 2001 Corolla.

How did I get here? Why am I okay with it? Why do I think its not a total derailment of the "Tri on a Shoestring" philosophy? Tuck in, this entry's gonna be a doozy.

BIKES.
If you're not young and familiar with the cannibalization of competing genres of youth culture, you might not be aware that bikes are a hot, burning topic. I've tried to stay mostly out of the fray, and know enough to not destroy my bike, and to vaguely understand why the bike moves the way it does when I push on the pedals.
My last bike (R.I.P) - which was also my first "adult" bike, i.e. a purposeful purchase, and not a movement machine that happened to drift into the maw of my life - was a 54cm Surly Steamroller flip-flop that I rode single at first, and then fixed. I'm going to go ahead and tell you what all that meant, since it was all bewilderment to me until about 8 months ago. Let's break it down a phrase at a time.

54 cm The size of the frame - the most basic and rude measurement for fitting yourself to a bike. It refers to the seat tube post (that's pretty self explanatory if you're looking at a bike), though from which exact point to which other point varies slightly between manufacturers. I believe, but could be wrong, that from the center of the pedal-gear thing to the top of the tube is the measurement. Anyone?
I was happy on this frame, which was probably ignorance. I'm on a 51 now, and I feel sort of squished, but I can feel my body having an easier time getting up power.
The big throughline of the bike buying experience has been getting a women's vs a men's frame, and I'd like to drop on you a fundamental difference in physiologies that entails the need for frames to be built and sized differently: short torso/long legs (women) vs. long torso/legs (men). See how that combo can mean that, even sex being constant, two people of the same height might need a different size bike? Know this.

Surly Steamroller I'm not going to get into this too much, but this was a BAD ASS bike. Steamroller for ruhlz, that thing could jam through any pothole, crappy surface, get hit by a car, and sustain no damage. Amazing. Steel frame but light. When I first got onto an aluminum Specialized, I was disturbed to describe the sensation of the ride as "hollow" - the lighter frame and better shock absorption meant I wasn't "feeling" the road as much, and this freaked me out. Think Corolla - reliable, sturdy, economical - vs whatever your Mommy drives - smooth, quiet, clearly more expensive. It was like that. God I miss that bike. God I love my new one.

Flip-flop/single/fixed//road/track Explaning this is almost totally unpalatable to me, so strong do opinions run...I'll just try and succinctly relate my experience.
I bought the Surly as flip flop because I wanted to have something I could treat badly and still have be a workhorse, and was afraid to go totally fixed, because I didn't understand it. So I rode single for a few months - that means I had one gear, and could coast - I could glide along without the pedals/my legs moving, or even move them in crazy backwards circles.
People kept explaining fixed gear to me, and I just couldn't wrap my head around it. One night, my friend Bryan flipped the back wheel (with a single gear on one side of the hub, and a fixed gear on the other), and I tried to ride fixed. It was unsettling - if the wheels are moving, so are the pedals. Get me? If that bike's a-rollin, your legs are a-movin' - whether you like it or not. So now I understood, mechanically, the deal, but didn't understand what the intrinsic value might be.
Closest as I can tell you, based on personal experience, is this (and this basically matches what anyone will say...I think...): you get better at pedaling, more evenly, and more appropriately to whatever you are trying to achieve, speed or strengthwise. You get better feedback from the bike on what it wants to be doing, and you adjust more instinctively. Your legs are the gears, so you know how hard you are working; exactly how steep or long the hill is; and how much resistance you really need to stop. I never rode without a brake lever, and after I got hit by a car because I couldn't stop fast enough with one brake, I got a second one put on.
I'll never say that any sort of gear system is better than another, but the weirdo versatility of fixed should be experienced. Mechanical symbiosis and geeky thing-love, where your bike suddenly becomes a beautiful horsey you want to pet and canter with forever, is the best way I can explain it.

All of which is just set-up for the much more massive learning experience of buying the new bike, a 51 cm Specialized Dolce Comp. With a horrible paint job.
And why I head to bed with zero twinge of guilt that I've betrayed my mission or outspent my budget.
That'll have to be tomorrow's post.