Tonight commenced the first annual Swim Bike Mom event: Me Change Tubes 2011.
Okay, so I have changed a tire tube. Twice. In my entire life. I figured before the Oly race on Saturday, I should probably refresh. Yes, I prolly should have done this before St. Anthony’s… and also before Acworth on Sunday… but hey….
I put a bet out on the SBM Facebook page as to how long it would take me. The responses were not very promising.
I won’t bore you with the boring tire-changing details. Suffice it to say…. forty-five minutes later, I was covered in grease, the curse words were flying and I was almost in tears.
The back derailleur situation was absolutely befuddling. And my C02 cartridge was apparently for a mountain bike, or a four-wheeler, or a horse (nice work, bike shop, recommending that to the dumb baby triathlete…bet ya’ll had a hearty laugh about that one)….but definitely, not for Antonia.
Thanks to the Expert for not mocking me too badly. I appreciate him shouting things like, “No, not like that” and nicely telling me to calm down, be a big girl and I need to know these things. And also really pretty much telling me exactly what in the world to do. Saint McExpert.
Turns out, I am very mechanically-challenged, and exceptionally Chicken Little. I could have never been a surgeon. “Nooooo, I can’t see the vein!! The blood! The bloooooood!”
But ole Antonia is tubed up. And I am proud. Not really. I am mad that I am covered in grease. Once a princess, always a princess.
The Expert said: Well, you don’t know if you’ve done it correctly until you ride it tomorrow.
Guess I’ll find out then.