In April of 1988, my bike was stolen out of my garage.  I was disappointed but I had a recent race photo that allowed my insurance to cover all my extras like toe clips and a seat pad.  It was a Puch 10 speed that I had had since college.  I loved that bike, but it was gone.
 
For Mother’s day that year my husband gave me a new Nishiki.  It cost $650.  I was totally amazed with this beautiful piece of equipment.  But then, I realized it didn’t have a kickstand.  How could this expensive bike not have a kickstand?  Wasn’t that standard equipment?
 
When I went back to the bike shop to express my disappointment in their negligence, the two sales guys looked at each other with that knowing look…”rookie.”   I knew what they were thinking and they were wrong.  I had been racing for six years.  But I was a rookie at having a nice bike and I couldn’t bring myself to lay it on the ground or prop it up against just anything.  I was afraid something might happen to my prize. 
 
They put a kickstand on my bike and didn’t charge me extra for all the wise acre remarks.  But I didn’t care. I knew what my comfort zone was with this and that was what I had to work with.
 
Over the last eleven years, bike shops in Texas, Connecticut and North Carolina have begged me to remove the extra weight of this unsightly stick.  But, it is like having an extra bottle of water.  I felt comforted knowing it is there if I need it.  Every person doing a pre-race bike check has asked me if I wanted to take it off.  At the Esprit in Montreal, the person jokingly told me that they didn’t allow kick stands in the race.  True cyclists wouldn’t have this albatross.  It is like a marathoner carrying a backpack. Futile attempts to embarrass me have only made me stronger to stay with in my comfort zone.
 
Honestly, I am not a great cyclist.  Not even a good cyclist.  I am average but persistent.  Just like the majority of other triathletes in any local event.  I will never be an elite athlete, but I am out there trying my hardest, pushing myself outside my comfort zone physically.  I am just like the majority of triathletes that USAT coaches will be training.  Only a few coaches will get an elite athlete, most coaches will be coaching people like me.  I push the edge just a little but not so much that I don’t enjoy my triathlon experience.
 
I try to reflect on this element of my triathlon experience when I come across a young person who is afraid or concerned about some suggestion I make.  Is the expense of the extra worry going to be worth the distraction in terms of performance?  For example, my younger triathletes seem to waste precious time during the swim-bike transition drying off and putting on shorts.  However, they feel self-conscious in their Speedos and lose focus.  Some things just work for some people.  And if doing it their way is legal and safe, why force them to change before they are ready.   When the behavior stops serving a purpose, they will dump it right away.
 
I want them to enjoy the triathlon experience.  Make it fun and keep them coming back for more.
 
Postscript:  For my 43 birthday my husband and sons gave me a $2000 bike.  When I handed the bike technician a kickstand, purchased elsewhere, he didn’t know what it was.  In all of his experience, he had never put a kickstand on a bike and was clueless as to how to install this anomaly of the cycling circles.  We called in an expert (a statistician, my husband) to insure that the finishing touches on this high tech moving machine were done correctly.   The installation created quite a stir with other patrons of the shop, wondering what that was.  My husband told them it was a “bike stabilizer.” They were very eager to get one. 
 
 
Alisa Wright Colopy, MA, MPH, is a USA Triathlon Level I and II certified coach and USAT Mid-Atlantic Youth Representative. Her company, Fit & Able Productions, Inc., conducts youth triathlon camps and clinics.