My love of Klein

I think we all have addictions, so legal, like coffee, cigarettes or porn, some not so legal, like heroin, bank robbing and porn. I have a Klein addiction, which used to be a Felt, Cervelo and Trek addiction, but I lost of a shit load of money and those other toys had to be sold.

So now all I have to focus on is my Klein. This particular Klein has been with me for over 10 years. I have abused it, used it, loved it and crashed it a couple of times. It has damaged me as well, from knees and feet to some serious brain damage it inflicted onto me in a terrible beating 5 years ago. Love is like that.

I have been back on my Klein this week, in a 6 month attempt to get into shape for a few 100 mile rides in the spring and summer of 2011.

When I was riding every day and doing thousands of miles a month my sense was that I was always about a couple of weeks away from prime shape for long distance riding, such was my health at that point. After a serious injury/crash a few years ago, the time to being in great shape kept growing, from a month, to two, and now, it stands at about 6, and that is if I train hard. So, there I was, this morning, mounting the Klein and riding with passion.

Now, over the years, I have been on some top notch bikes. As my skills and ability grew, I would add a better cycle to the mix. When I was kind of forced to stop riding on roads, my interest faded. When I was drugged and damaged, it got worse. In fact, somewhere there exists video of me actually falling off a bike set up in my dining room, such was my sad abilities there at the end of all that treatment.

Motivated by my fiance and a series of good health news, I am back on a bike. Strange how the Klein has come back to me, almost willing me to get better on a variety of levels. This Klein, this bike, has been with me long enough to be the first bike I rode on my first century ride (one hundred miles) and also the bike I rode across Montana. I have always tortured the Klein, riding hard and punishing it for things it never deserved. Now that I am weak ad fat, the Klein is being stressed again. This morning, as I went through gears and rode in an empty bedroom, I had flashbacks to the great times this bike has given me.

Someday I will retire it and just hang it on a wall as an appreciation for everything this particular bike has given me. It's a strange thing to be so devoted and to love something that has two wheels, a greasy chain and a chipped and dirty paint job. It's not a bad thing, just a little strange.