Triathletes are animals!

As the sun rises higher in the sky, a young man's (and woman's) fancies turn to racing. As our sport relies heavily on the safety bicycle, a stop at a bike-shop to get it serviced starts to seem like a good idea seeing as many of us have neither the tools, the parts, the inclination, nor the understanding spouse who doesn't mind dirty ball-races on the kitchen table.

Before we carry on, full disclosure, the TurnAround now works the floor for our friends at Cyclesmith, and as such gets to drink free coffee all day and talk bikes. Sweet hey? We're also getting to the point where a full carbon bike with Di2 and HEDs leave us all m'eh, but that's a story for another day.

So, we're down in the mechanics' bay the other week drooling over a Cervelo or something when the topic of triathlon comes up.

"Triathletes are animals" says one guy.

"What, all Rawrr and muscly, gnarly endurance multisport beasts?" we ask (perhaps a tad naively).

"Nope, just animals"

Here's why.

Bento-Box surprises: You'd be surprised what these guys find in Bento-Boxes. Half-eaten power-bars, half-inhaled gels smeared over goodness knows what, crushed salt-tablets, PB&J sandwiches in various states of disassembly and, we kid you not, on one memorable occasion, feminine-hygiene products. Perhaps the icing on the cake, or rather the baked-goods on the crossbar, was just that; pieces of Powerbar (or similar, perhaps Clif-Bars, a taste-test was not undertaken) were left "glued" to the top-tube in easy reach of a rider in the aero-position (you know how we do it) when the bike was dropped off. Sweet. As in sweet, sticky mess. Yum.

Courtesy flush please? You know that nifty little trick you do when the two pre-ride espressos make themselves known? When you drift to the back of the pack, rearrange your bib-shorts and let go? Nope, we can't do it either. The last time we tried we essentially pee'd all over ourselves, our shoes and the bike and at the finish one of our buddies actually commented on the smell! Not that any of us do that, but even so, give your bike a quick wipe-down with a damp rag to get the worst of the salt-stains and snot off the frame before bringing it in. You don't need to bleach it, autoclave it and present it in sterile packaging, but get the most egregious biological stains off. Please?

Not every P2 comes in like this, not by a long-shot, there are only a few bad apples spoiling it for everyone. Indeed, some of these tales may even be apocryphal; I knew a guy, who knew a guy, who knew a guy, who knew a guy's cousin who once changed an inner-tube in Mellow Johnny's. Even so, a PSA was in order. Remember; you're nice to the waiter because he can put a thumb in your soup, so spare a thought for the poor LBS wrench. He may not put a chocolate on your pillow, but he'll put a second coat of Bike Lust on your whip!

Thank-you for your attention to this matter :)

AD