The sadness associated with finding a new bike shop after years of wonderful service consumes me. I fell in love in that bike shop, I fell in love with myself, I fell in love with riding, I feel in love with the manager and I fell in love with his family.

A few years ago I started riding a bike as a new challenge to myself. I was sick and tired of looking at the same treadmill in the gym and I wanted to be outside. There was a phamplet for an MS150 ride and I said, "I can do that". First things, first, I needed a bike.

When I went to the bike shop I was totally overwhelmed with all the different bikes to chose from. A wonderful man didn't laugh at my price point and spent time with me teaching me about my entry level bike. That man would become my future father in law (for a few months anyways). I became good friends with the manager (his son) and we had become riding buddies. I shared stories of how unhappy I was in my current relationship and mentioned I was thinking about moving away. My bike helped me figure out I was in an unhappy relationship. Me, the open road, and my thoughts. I rode the wheels off that thing. Literally.

While trying to figure out if I was going to stay in a 7 year dead end relationship, I needed some parts. My significant other thought the price was too high and he felt that I should just give up riding. My friend, the manager, said he'd work something out and asked me to leave the bike so he could fix it. He wasn't going to allow someone to come in the way with his cycling partner and her cycling passion.

He scabbed together a few wheels to make me a new one and then called to tell me the bike was ready to pick up. I will never forget the day he wheeled that bike out from the back. It was fixed and at no charge. But that's not what he was smiling about. He had screwed some streamers onto the ends of the handlebars. Some pretty red and white ones to match my bike. I was in love. I was in absolute love. This man cared so much about me that he spent time fixing my bike for free and put silly streamers on it all to make me happy. He made me more than happy. I cried tears of joy at the shop that day while he and his father looked over at me and smiled. It was the nicest thing anyone had done for me. I instantly handed over my heart to him.

We soon became a couple which then progressed into moving in together, which progressed into buying a home together and becoming engaged. We were to be married next fall complete with mountain bikes. Along the way, he introduced me to mountain bike riding and cyclocross. Two sports I now compete in. I have multiple bikes and they all have matching streamers that remind me how much he loves me. My teammates call me Streamers and I have a custom headset cap that is inscribed with Streamers Make Me Fast on my 29er. He gave this to me a few months ago for my birthday. When I received it, I cried just like the day at the bike shop when he wheeled my once broken bike out all fixed and I saw the same giddy smile I had seen 3 years prior when streamers first appeared on a bike of mine. What a happy day it was. I have bragged loudly and often to everyone at the trailhead that will listen that I have the most amazing person in my life.

My happiness is now gone as he has decided to break off the engagement. I sit in our house wondering how it could have happened. While I am coming to grips with being apart from the man I so much loved, I am just starting to realize that the entire sport of biking has changed for me.

I no longer feel happiness when I look at my streamers. I look down at my headset and cry. Do I take my streamers off all of my bikes? It's my identity. It's how people know me. It's my team nickname. It's what reminded me to not take life so seriously and have fun. It was who I was but now they make me sad. Very sad. I miss that smile of his. I miss it all.

And now I start the terrifying experience of wheeling my bikes into a new shop to be worked on. When splitting up the finances the other day, he stated that he would not work on my bikes anymore. He didn't want to get blamed if something wasn't fixed to my satisfaction (I can be a little demanding). He told me to take it to another shop.

The other shops have already extended their condolences (benefits of facebook I guess) and have welcomed me with open arms. I know that even as I heal from this relationship, I'm terrified of the day that I have to take my bike somewhere else and look into the eyes of one of his competitors while bawling my eyes out to fix one of my babies. I gave my heart away in his bike shop and it hurts to start all over.

(My therapist wants me to journal and I thought I would share this with you at the same time. No one other than "us" will understand that a bike shop is much more than *just* a store. It's where relationships are formed, stories are shared, bruises are compared and there's plenty of laughter.)