Once she started talking about getting a bike trainer, it didn’t take long to get my wife to Play It Again Sports. I think it was about 24 hours, even though we had to travel one of those 24 to get there.
But why a used sports equipment store? Shouldn’t her good intentions be honored with a credit card purchase of a costly cutting-edge trainer?
Not from what I’ve seen in the world of physical fitness. After spending over 20 years as a chiropractor watching one fitness gadget after another go unused by my patients, a certain skepticism has settled in. Fitness machine after fitness machine starts sucking dust toward itself soon after the neglect begins.
If the patient’s abandoned fitness toy is a good gadget, I’ll offer to buy it from them for ten cents on the dollar. No takers yet; they all know they’ll get back on the machine some day…
But hope springs eternal here in the mountain cabin; in a cautious sort of way. So when my wife announced that she’d feel a lot less guilty watching recordings of NCIS, Bones, Leverage, and a few other bloody shows if she was perched on a bike trainer, plans to head south to the used fitness equipment store took shape. I don’t know if she’ll make good on her intentions, but it was worth buying an $80 used cycling trainer. After being re-assured by the clerk fitness consultant that a very limited number of sweaty butt-cracks had graced the saddle, a disassembled used trainer filled the trunk.
Now in my wife’s defense, let me say that her fitness inferiority complex is well deserved. Our daughter, our son, and yours truly are long distance athletes, having run, and in my case cycled, vigorously for too many years.
My wife and her family are very accomplished vocalists.
This makes her feel inferior and embarrassed when dipping her toe into the physical fitness waters. I think I know how she feels. I find birthdays to be uncomfortable (except my own, of course) because her family sings a very good four part harmony rendition of the ‘Happy Birthday’ song. I humbly move my lips in sinc with the words, making sure no hair gets through my vocal cords. Lately I’ve even trained myself to puff my cheeks a little bit.
And that’s how it must be for my wife and the bike trainer. She’s pedaling and pedaling (even puffing her cheeks), going no where, while even the most hideous crime scenes are being dissected by clever detectives. I’m not sure if these intentions are going to last, but I’m willing to wager $80 on the deal.
Worst case scenario, I can always sell the twice-used bike trainer for $8 to one of my patients.
A Fluid Bike Trainer: Guaranteed To Fail!
While a fluid bike trainer is top of the line in bicycle trainers, leakage is definitely a problem.