In the name of cross-training, over-50 legs, and registering for a triathlon in July, I've been riding my bike 2-3 times per week. OK - I've basically been planning to ride my bike, because I don't ride if it's raining or dark. In my mind, it's far safer to run vs bike in these conditions because I can see the cars coming toward me when I'm running, and cars sneak up behind me when I'm biking.
The last time I actually got on the bike, I had a flat tire. I was really proud of myself for biking to a client's house (saving gas, helping keep the environment clean and getting exercise all at once!), until I showed up 10 minutes late because I had to walk my bike the final mile. It was one of those days when I had back-to-back appointments, so I called my husband for an emergency ride home.
My son Nate and his friend Morgan changed the tire for me, giving me some tips and hints along the way but doing the work themselves. I've watched other people change a bike tire, and even participated in a tire changing clinic a few years ago, but I've never actually changed a tire myself.
Until today.
After a 30 minute swim at the Rec, I changed into my bike gear and rode approximately 1 mile before I heard a loud POP followed by a short whoosh of air. Flat back tire, again. I had a spare tube in my pack, but decided to walk the bike back to my car and drive home so I could use my tire pump instead of the compressed air capsule I also carry with me but of course had never used before. One new experience would be enough for the day.
Changing the tire myself did not go well. I kept reminding myself that Nate told me anyone can change a tire. He assured me I wouldn't break anything, and if I did it wrong the worst thing that would happen is I'd need to do it over. Thus fortified by my son's encouragement, I attempted to take the back wheel off the bike. Nate is a lot bigger and stronger than I am, and he tightened the wheel so much that I had to use both hands and my body weight to force the lever-thingy (you can tell I really don't know much about bikes) down so I could take the wheel off the bike. I almost gave up once or twice, and even headed into the house in defeat before I told myself in no uncertain terms that I WOULD change the #!*# tire. Finally, it popped off.
I knew to use the bright yellow, hard plastic levers to pry the tire off the wheel. Easier said than done, but I managed to loosen one side fairly easily. No amount of prying could get the entire tire off the wheel, so I resorted to the most respected authority I know: Google. I googled "change a flat bike tire" and found lots of helpful videos and suggestions. Fortified by knowledge and a turkey sandwich (I function better when I'm not hungry) I went back to work on the bike.
I finally managed to pry the tube out of the wheel and somewhat miraculously the tire also came off the wheel - after about 30 minutes. I blew a bit of air into the new tube and inserted the valve through the wheel. Now the real fun started, because it took me another 30 minutes, a second trip to Google, a glass of milk and a fresh pear, and serious self-talk that I was fully capable of doing this by myself before I managed to finally get both tube and tire back onto the wheel.
Something, however, wasn't quite right. I had heard a lot about the dreaded 'pinch flat', where a tube put incorrectly into the tire would get pinched between the tire and the rim and cause another flat. It looked to me like the tube was already pinched, and I was afraid to blow up the tube completely. I reviewed my options: give up and sell the bike, give up and wait for my husband to come home and rescue me (and the bike), ask for help. Ask for help finally won, after even more self-talk and reminders of Nate's confidence in my abilities.
I decided to put the wheel back on the bike and drive the $#!* thing to Battenkill Sports Bike Shop just down the road and ask for help. Theoretically I knew how to put the wheel on the bike, but getting it in the right place, with the chain where it belonged, took more than a few tries.
Robin at the bike shop was encouraging and gracious, and confirmed that a pinch flat was imminent. In about 2 seconds he rectified the potential fatal pinch flat by poking the valve stem up into the tire. That's all it took to get the tube and tire to cooperate, and I had just spent over 15 minutes trying to figure this out on my own. He then pumped air into the tube and put the wheel on the bike in less than 1 minute, showing me a nifty way to lift the derailleur (the metal thing that holds the chain on the bike's back wheel and has something to do with shifting gears - I think) with one finger and elegantly slide the wheel into place. It took me two hands and propping with my thigh (there are black chain marks on my body to prove it) at home.
I told Robin this is why I run instead of bike. I don't have expensive running equipment that malfunctions and forces me to stop running. I might get a stone in my shoe, but I can rectify that in less than 1 minute. There's no grease on my hands and I don't have to Google mechanical information and videos to complete a run. I told Robin that if I get a flat tire during the triathlon I might as well give up right there since it took me longer to change the flat tire than it does to complete an entire sprint tri. Somewhat to my surprise, he agreed with me!
Two hours after I initially started off on a bike ride, I started once again on a bike ride. I almost forgot about the anger, dismay, and frustration as I pedaled down the hills, cooled by a stiff breeze and enjoying the smooth pavement. I'm glad I didn't give up, and I feel slightly more confident about changing a future flat tire. Except that next time I'll probably have to attempt using compressed air to inflate the tube.
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