Congratulations! It's a GURU!

It wasn't planned. It couldn't have been predicted. It just...well...sort of happened.
Two Monday's ago Maggie, the kids, and I went to run various errands in the greater Grand Rapids area. Ultimately the only task I needed to accomplish in town was to get a new adaptor "pipe" for my pump because the one I had relied on for so long wasn't getting the job done.
To save time, I dropped everyone off at Target and went to Village Bike in Cascade to get the said item, which of course they had. After paying, I mentioned, "I'm going to poke around a bit, even though I probably shouldn't." You know how it is: Kid in a candy store kind of situation. Anyway, it only took about five steps and it appeared before me. It was one of those moments where there is a bright shining light and the loud "Awwwww" as if the moment was sent from Heaven.
There it was in its shining glory: The bike I didn't even know I was dreaming about, but at the same time, the bike of my dreams. The Specialized Transition Expert. Yeah baby, all carbon fiber with contours that would make a model envious.
I wiped the drool off from my chin while my eyes popped out at the bright yellow sale tag with the red numbers showing a significant savings. My heart pounded. I picked it up and it was so light in my hands. However, I quickly put it down and turned away like a bashful schoolboy who wanted so badly to ask the stunning beauty to prom, but simply couldn't come up with the nerve. I looked at the other bikes nearby. Nice? Yes. Cool? Yeah. You gotta' be kiddin' me bitchin'? Not-so-much. Nevertheless, I touched the rubber of the front tires, tapped on the frames gently, and walked out the door.
When I returned to Target I identified my crew right away. Alex was looking at the new styles of school clothes, Payton was on his way to the toys, Frank was pulling clothes off the rack as Maggie was busy putting the clothing carnage that Frank had produced from a different rack. It actually looked as though the rack had exploded and Maggie was trying to put the proverbial Humpty Dumpty back together again.
With stars in my eyes I causually said, mostly to myself, "I just saw my next bike."
Maggie said, "Let's go see it."
"What? Why? You don't care about that stuff."
"Let's go see it. I want to see what you're looking at."
"Uh...really?"
"Yeah. How much is it anyway?"
"$$$$"
"Why don't you get it?"
"What?!"
"Why don't you get it?"
"Well...I...uh...because...uh...what?"
"Let's just go look at it."
So, we went back to Village Bike on our way home. I looked at the bike, got on the bike, imagined myself riding the bike, and talked to Dave at the store about the bike. I would have ridden the bike, but it was raining out.
Maggie asked if it was the right size. I said, "Well, it's more complicated than that. I would want to do a fit and see if it is even the right bike for me."
"Then do it."
I reached down to the floor to grab my jaw which was laying there from the shock, because it was needed for me to continue to have a conversation with Dave. We determined the best course of action would be to provide a down payment to hold the bike and then schedule a bike fitting.
The following Tuesday I went back to Village to have a fitting done with Tom.
Tom is the most precise, detailed-minded, person I think I've ever met. He asked me many questions, he did flexibility and range of motion testing. He took measurements and asked more questions. Finally I got on a fitting bike and he conducted tests, moved pieces and parts, studied the charts on the computers, adjusted my posture. It was as comprehensive of a fit that anyone could ask for. Finally he said, "Ok, let me go get the bike and see if we can set it up for you."
Tom returned with the glorious ride I had spotted a week earlier. I had some time to think about this...more time than I would have liked really. I had a feeling it was going to be dubbed, too small. I asked, "Now, having done all we've done today and you knowing what you know, what does your gut say?"
"Too small."
"That's what I thought," I replied not completely dejected, but still disappointed.
Tom proceeded to tweek this and adjust that to see what he could do. He paused and it was clear to me that he had reached the end of what he could do. He had somewhat of the look of a surgeon who could do no more the the victim brought into the ER as the flatline jetted across the screen.
It wasn't going to work.
Tom talked to me about options. He wanted me to take the lead and direct him where I wanted to go. However, I didn't want to dismiss the fact that Tom is an expert. He not only has a great mind for bicycles, but he's also an accomplished rider in his own right. ...He can totally kick my a##.
I told him I was emotionally tied to the Specialized brand, but was certainly open to options that he thought made sense to him for me to consider. He nodded in understanding and presented some ways I could go. Ultimately I stopped him and said, "Ok, let's go with the custom GURU. Now, knowing what you know about everything that went on here today and what you know about bicycle components, pieces and parts, would you be willing to design a few options for me to look at and have us go from there?"
He politely agreed and by the end of the week I had a couple of bikes to consider.
I had all week to think about what he might come up with and with what materials. I had in my mind I wanted an all carbon-fiber, you've got to be kiddin' me, bitchin' machine. I realized that anything less wouldn't be worth the trade off of my longtime, two wheeled companion...my Litespeed.
I settled on a design and chose the color scheme. I went in to Village once again to pay for it. I was nervous, I was excited, I was thrilled, I was...apparently out of my mind. I just paid for a bicycle that cost more than my first "real" car and more than I would likely pay for our current car. Payton was with me and I told him he was going to have to get a job mowing lawns to start paying for my new bike. He looked at me and giggled nervously. I looked at him and smiled, wondering which neighbors would actually pay him to mow their lawns.
Now it's a waiting game. It will take 4-6 weeks before I get it.
I need to sell my Litespeed. Parting will be such sweet sorrow, but it's time for us to part ways. I hope someone recognizes its value, takes advantage of the deal, and takes it for many more miles.
A new chapter will soon begin.