To the jackhole who stole my mountain bike out of my basement:
I hope you rot in hell. and I hope you enjoy riding a ladies 15" turquoise bike with a pink seat. and I hope you have SPD cleats you bastard. If I ever see you riding my bike down the street, I will tackle you. Actually I will chase you down the street screaming "I AM AN IRONMAN" and then I will tackle you at full speed. And while I may be short, I am solid, and you will hit the ground, and it will hurt.
Goodbye pretty bike :(
I know my bike was turquoise and at one point it did have a kickstand, but it was my first "real" bike that I got as a birthday present from my parents when I was living in Syracuse in 2007. It was a Specialized and I loved it! I did my first triathlon on it, I mountain biked (and fell down a lot) on it. I rode it around the city. I did an off-road duathlon 3 years in a row on it which I can no longer do because it is gone. Because of this bike, I fell in love with triathlon. It being stolen makes me feel like I have been violated, and like part of my soul was ripped away.
It is safe to say that I am upset. And PISSED.
This was the 3rd bout of bad news that I got today and was by far the worst of the three things.
So now I am sad, and I may have cried over my bike. I was already in a sour mood and now I am just miserable.