JimK:  If you want to know where in the blue hell I have been, I have an explanation:

That, my friends, is a 2009 Giant Defy 3. her name is Jasmine, and her story is kind of interesting. Let me tell you it.

I have been looking around for a decent bike shop. We have a few to choose from around here. One of them treated me like a red-headed stepchild for daring to bring a Walmart bike into their sacred space and asking that it be made to work as well as could be expected from a $150 Walmart bike. One shop is jammed up for 6 weeks in advance, but has always treated me well. One shop treated me like I spent a million dollars in there.. I wanted to get the fork that came on my Walmart bike replaced with a simple rigid fork. They dug around the basement and found one that fit perfectly and sold & installed it - same day!- for $50 bucks. When I picked it up, they took time to chat with me about my cycling goals, what I hoped to achieve, the fact that I am going to ride the Summer Breeze Century, etc. And also made me feel good about riding my Walmart bike…one of the mechanics said “Look, you know it;s not high quality, but youare riding and that is the important thing. I tell everyone…ride what you have and save up for something nicer. But just ride, that’s the key thing!”  Nice to hear that instead of the usual bike shop snobbery.

They also gave me a couple of free Bonk Breaker bars, which is like giving that first hit of crack for free. Hooked, and hooked hard. Love ‘em way more than Clif bars. A few days later, when I needed more, I thought I would support my local bike shop (hereafter abbreviated as LBS) and buy the bars from them. So I walk in and the owner is all “Wow! I was absolutely going to call you!”

Okay. Uhh, why? “You have to see what I got yesterday. Come downstairs with me.” And I’m thinking Okaaaaay. Am I gonna get prison-buttsexed here? But I go anyway, so what does that tell you about me, right

He leads me down into this underground bike storage area they have (the shop itself is about the size of my bedroom!). Sitting perched delicately against a stack of bokes is the Giant Defy 3 you see above. Bathed in fluorescent light, in a dirty storeroom, she called out to me.

“This guy loved the Giant Defy line so much he returned this and upgraded to the Defy Advanced. He rode this for just under a month. The minute I saw it come back I thought of you.”

“Yeah but I cannot afford this. Like, at all.”

“Just test ride it. See if it fits.”

We made a few adjustments and I test rode it around the block a few times. When i rolled it back into the shop, I asked the owner if it would get me arrested if I had sex with the bike. Basically we jawed for awhile and I left on the “I can’t afford it” line.

Few days later I needed to talk to someone about gloves. I go back in. He starts in on me about riding the century on my Walmart Schwinn, and how it’s only going to be hard, no fun, it’ll hurt me, I’ll barely make the goal of 50 miles, etc. I know he wanted to sell the bike, but he was also speaking the truth.

“Look, you know my price on these Defys is $750. This is used, and it has a scratch. So…$650 and I’ll swap the tires to 28s and give you steel pedals instead of the plastic ones.”

“Can’t do it. I just can’t.”

“I’m not selling this bike to anyone else. This is your bike. It;s the next step for you. More expensive bikes would be a waste, but less bike would not help you improve. This is the perfect bike for you right now, and you need to ride something good in that century.”

“I know. I know what you are saying is right, but I literally do not have the money. I just begged the internets at large to help me pay for my web server. I fucking cannot buy this bike!”

“$600. I can still call that a profit because of what I made from the first owner. I’m not kidding, I want to see you on this bike.”

“You sound like a used car salesman.”

“Dude I know, but I promise you I am being sincere. You and this bike came together at this time for a reason. You said you might have some cash coming your way for your birthday in August, right?”

“Yes. But it’s the end of June. And the century is mid-July, so that doesn’t help me much.”

“Okay here’s what we’re going to do. You are going to rent this bike from me. For like, a month. You ride it like you own it and if anything breaks we’ll get it fixed under Giant’s warranty. In August, if you don’t buy it, I’ll charge you a reasonable rental. Like, $75 or $100. If you do buy it, then you have been riding your bike all along and we’ll do it for $550. I need to make something on the transaction, so that’s my lowest price.”

“So basically I get to ride it now and pay later?” At this point I am absolutely fucking taking this bike home.

“Yes, and I’m an idiot for doing this but I want you on this bike this week.”

I gave him a credit card - the last one I have with any room on it at all - for deposit purposes and took her home.

Been riding her like I stole her ever since.  This is what riding is for me. This kind of bike enhances that feeling of flying, of freedom that Zen thing I get when rolling just right down a smooth road. It makes riding both more challenging and yet easier at the same time. Now, I’m not *much* faster on this bike than I was on the 40 pounds of Walmart steel. But as I drop weight and get stronger, this bike will allow me to get faster, where the Walmart bike was always going to be limited by size, quality, geometry, wheels and gearing. Example: There is a hill I hit on the way home every time I ride the Canal trail. I have NEVER, no matter how hard I pedaled, gotten past 34 miles an hour going down that damn hill.

Jasmine did it at 39.9 first try.  I love her soooooooo much. Last night Donna called her “the other woman.” and I didn’t correct her.

So maybe you’re wondering why I named her Jasmine. Well, I’ll tell you.

Now, the Defy 3. It’s blue. In the 90s there was a little wrestling promotion called Eastern Championship Wrestling, and I was a fan. There was a guy called The Blue Meanie. Silly and goofy and fat, stuffed into super tight clothing, but the guy had skills. Here’s his Wikipedia pic:

He went on to work for years, at various points being managed by - and dating in real life - porn actress Jasmine St. Claire.

I was never going to be a guy that wore bike clothes, but once you try them you get it. I was still not going to be the guy that matched his clothes, but Donna convinced me that if you are going to do it, do it right. So I have a set of red gear and a set of blue gear. I am a big ol’ bastard with all blue gear, riding a blue bike. The Blue Meanie rode Jasmine.

And so the bike is named Jasmine. I know the danger of naming a thing before it is officially yours, but…I mean…look at her:

A thing of beauty is a joy forever.

You can see a gallery of pics here. And if you follow my Twitter feed I constantly go one and on about riding and twitpic crap from my rides all the time.

So in summary, she’s not mine yet, but she will be, of this I have no doubt. I have a tiny amount of room left on a credit card, plus the in-laws usually give me a little cash for my birthday. I think I can make it happen.  Of course, I will be maxed in debt, but fuck it, right? You only live once. Until they perfect brain downloads, anyway.

Oh, also, you know, no biggie, but my life has radically changed, and is changing faster all the time. I spend a lot of time doing things instead of reading about things now. I am going back to school and changing what I do with my life. I plan to become a Fitness Specialist, then a personal trainer, then perhaps a physical therapy assistant, and after that? Who knows. The fitness industry is one of the only things that grows regardless of the economy. If there is one thing America will NEVER have a shortage of, it’s fat people willing to pay someone else to help them lose weight.

More importantly, a career like this will keep me moving and keep me active, and what I have learned about myself is that I am an active person. I didn’t remember that about myself. I was an very active kid, a pretty damn active teen, and then I just…stopped. Getting a few certificates that will allow people to hire me in the fitness industry will keep me moving, and keep me from backsliding. This weight is never coming back. Never. Not unless I literally cannot help it because I lost my arms and legs in a thresher/combine accident and a crazy farm lady is now holding me in her basement force-feeding me lard and bread all day.

I’m going to a local community college for a certificate program as a Fitness Specialist. Then I sit for like, a half-dozen certificate tests and bam. I get to make half-decent money, set my own hours and even train people on my own once I get a reputation.  I even have some half-baked ideas about combining cycling and personal training for regular people - especially overweight people who are intimidated by bike shops and riding and personal trainers. I want to be the guy that shows them what is possible, and shows them how easy it is to get started. I want to help them navigate the bike jargon, the snobbishness of the shops, give people advice on what works and what is a waste of money, etc. I want to see more fat people on bikes!

I think I can make it happen. I just need those pieces of paper that tell others that someone, somewhere certified me.

I know. tl;dr, right? But hey, I’m posting.  I promise I will post more. It will probably be a lot about riding my bike, because I am WAY obsessed with it. Hopefully someone will care.