A few weeks ago, I was talking with my parents about my obsession with triathlon, and explained to them the difference between road bikes and TT/tri bikes. My stepdad eventually handed me a blank piece of paper and told me to write down exactly what I was looking for in a tri bike... size, frame, components, everything. He said it would be my Christmas present, sky's the limit.
I handed the paper back to him, blank, explaining that if I wanted a tri bike like that, I'd have to
earn myself... through sweat, training, racing, exhaustion, whatever it took. My road bike will do for now. I'm so grateful that my folks are supportive, but triathlon is just something I have to do (and buy) for myself, even if I can't afford the best bike out there.
So... under the tree yesterday morning I find a little box with my name on it, and inside are five crisp new $100 bills and a note saying: "You won't let us buy you a bike, so here's your new Kangaroo wet suit. Love, mom and dad."
My folks rock, even if they confused "Kangaroo" with "Quintana Roo".
