Just enough stuff
By Alison Colavecchia
1.7.02 (www.slowtwitch.com)

I always admire the stuff that appears in Triathlete magazine and Inside Triathlon each month. But with three children to feed, a house to pay for and the fact that triathlon is not ranked as the No. 1 family priority, buying all that gear just isn’t feasible. So I've worked to collect the basics over the last five years, and I have just enough stuff to do what I do comfortably.

When I first started in the pool I used the suit I'd been using to swim with the kids. It wasn’t a total "Mom" suit but definitely not one of the racing suits of my youth. After a couple of months of me forgetting to unpack it from my bag, it rotted. So, feeling a little stronger in the pool again, I thought I would recapture my youth and buy a suit with a zipper up the back. (I still remember being a tester for these when they first came out decades ago.) Alas, despite greater diligence with the rinsing and unpacking, this suit too rotted. So my motherhood brain took over. I went to my LSS (Local Swim Shop) and asked for a suit that wouldn’t rot and, voila! I have now been swimming for two winters and a summer in the same training suit. I had some help getting properly fit for goggles—they're a lot more complicated than they used to be—and have been using the same pair for racing and training since. Two years ago, I bought, on sale, a lovely tri bathing suit and have used it for all of my races since—and will continue to do so until it, too, comes apart. When I have worn a wetsuit it has been rented, as buying one just hasn’t been feasible.

Last Christmas, I was given a beautiful bath towel and decided to move it to my swimming bag, replacing the ratty old ones I'd always thought most appropriate for a swimming bag. I bought a pair of paddles and a pull buoy—both the old-fashioned (and cheaper) kind. So, from a swim gear perspective, I own one pair of goggles, one training suit, one racing suit, paddles, a pull buoy, a lovely, thick, mint-green bath towel, and a collection of very expensive bathing caps (race fees make them very, very dear).

Cycling has been the greater challenge for me as within fairly close proximity I have a wonderful local bike shop (Cyclepath), a great triathlon store (Enduro Sport) and a gear-conscious roadie neighbor. Each features all kinds of ways to separate me from my cash. Cycling offers no shortage of opportunities to spend! You need all-weather gear to ride and race (especially here in Canada, eh!), equipment to maintain your bike, and different bikes for different riding purposes. As a neophyte, it was easy for me to believe I needed to have it all to participate. I have now realized that despite all the well-intentioned advice, I do not.

From a bike clothing perspective, I began with what I had: my cycling shorts. They are now more than 17 years old. I bought them from Bloor Cycle—an old standby for all things cycling-related in the Toronto area. It closed about 15 years ago, but the shorts are still in good shape, still fit and have survived city and country riding, city and country dogs, mud, rain, hail and a few human-meets-pavement spills. They don’t smell and they do get washed. To these I have, over the last five years, added: one short-sleeve cycling jersey, one tank-style cycling/triathlon top, several pairs of Walmart cycling gloves, and this year a really nice pair of Louis Garneau gloves and arm warmers. I received as hand- me-downs from my father one cycling jacket, one pair of cold-weather cycling pants, one helmet cap and an extra pair of cycling shorts. I prefer to wear my running socks for cycling and so include these in my running budget. For cycling shoes, I bought one pair of discontinued Specialized shoes from my LBS for $80 (CDN) when I bought the road bike and upgraded this year to a pair of Time shoes. New on the scene thanks to Santa this year: a pair of winter cycling gloves and booties. That’s it for cycling clothes.

In terms of bikes, bike accessories and maintenance equipment, I have slowly worked my way toward getting set up. When I started five years ago, I used my mountain bike and added only a bottle cage. In year two, I used my old 10-speed and bought new tires. In year three, I bought a used Miele road bike for $200 (CDN) and a small pouch into which I put a travel pump, spare tube, patch kit, multi-purpose tool and small set of Allen keys. Year four would see Gracie (my Miele) newly attired with Profile aero bars, fancy new handlebar tape, an upgraded saddle, bike computer and floor pump. Year five was a bit like Christmas! With help from a few generous folks, I upgraded to a Cervelo One which meant new shoes and pedals, a computer with a cadence feature and new bottle cages. Later in the season, I bought a chain cleaner, top-grade degreaser, chain oil and bike buff. I also bought a Bento box.

Did not having a fancy bike for the first four years leave me feeling out of the loop? Yes, a little, but it didn’t prevent me from participating or from learning the ropes. Indeed, the feel of riding a bike that didn’t approach my own bodyweight was all the sweeter and not something I took for granted when it happened.

I've met my greatest frustration in the realm of running gear. Overpronation. Need I say more? I have now amassed the greatest and most expensive collection of gardening shoes in my neighborhood. After trying out all kinds of models, I settled on Asics 2050s. Of course as soon as I decided, or rather my feet decided, that this was THE shoe, the models were changed. I was very worried. I considered purchasing every single women’s size 8 2050 I could get my hands on…but then I tried the 2060s and they were just fine. I discovered ultra-thin running socks along the way and am now a devout fan even in the harsh winter months. My feet are happy; I am happy.

I have also over five years gradually acquired running gear that permits me to run in conditions that range from 30 degrees C to -30 degrees C. I don’t have a lot, just enough. I have two pairs of running shorts that I love and three extras that suffice when I can’t get to the laundry. I have one Coolmax tank top for scorcher days and one Coolmax short-sleeve top for the more moderate. On days when the temperature drops, I can choose from my heavier cycling pants (they have no chamois) or one of two pairs of tights. I've also got underlayer shirts with either short or long sleeves, a running suit for really, really nasty, cold days, a balaclava and a pair of Dryline gloves. I am Nanook of the North when I run in this weather! It took four years to find the perfect running hat and five years to upgrade from dollar-store pouches to a proper "running" fanny pack.

Miscellaneous purchases over the years have also included a Thera-ball, heartrate monitor and, soon, a wobble board.

What have I learned after five years of triathlon shopping? Well, if you were to examine my spending pattern over the years, I am certain the trend that would emerge is this: My perceived need for and frequency of gear purchases is directly proportional to my angst over an upcoming race. Last year, for example, would see me finding all kinds of things to manage my anxiety as I approached half-Ironday. ("I've had those for a while, Hon, don't you recognize them?") This year brings a full Ironday, and my anxiety is already high. I am contemplating stuff that might magically convert anxiety into calm. A wetsuit? Race wheels? Clothes? Gizmos? Gadgets?

Is it all needed? No. In truth, I know that when I am out there mid-race I do not think about how grateful I am to have new stuff, I think about how grateful I am simply to be there. Then, if I can spare a moment, I think about how glad I am to have stuff that’s comfortable.

So when I come back to reality and think about what I really need, the list shrinks substantially. I remember that my aim is to get myself to the starting line without hiding receipts, making like something new is old or forcing us to eat Kraft dinner for months on end—not that the kids would mind. I try to remind myself about the pattern (angst=spend) and that I need only enough stuff to be comfortable. So, my priorities for this year, budget permitting, are a wetsuit, new goggles, the requisite turnover in running shoes and a helmet. That’s it. The rest of the tried and true gear will have to be good enough to see me to both to the start and finish line of my first Ironman.

Still tri’n