When I made the decision to look at bikes back in May, I knew next to nothing about what was out there, seeing as the last one I regularly rode was a mid-1990s GT Vertigo BMX bike, which promptly got hung from the garage ceiling when I turned 16 and got my driver’s license. I knew that I wanted to give cycling a try because running on the treadmill to stay in shape was incredibly boring — not to mention wasn’t getting rid of my love handles — and taking things outside would be murder on my legs since I’ve got flat feet. I had friends in the city who rode fixies and single-speeds, and with the terrain pretty flat out here, I figured one of those could work for me, too.

I scoured Craigslist, but didn’t really know my size, and also didn’t feel like I should spend $300 or more on a used bike, so I checked out what was at one of the local bike stores. They carried Raleighs, and one of the sales guys turned me onto a Rush Hour. I told him I was new to cycling but my friends in the city rode single speeds with flip-flop hubs. He said it would be perfect for me. Seven-hundred bucks, however, was not perfect for me, so I decided to shop around.

When I was checking out the single-speed Langster at another store the next day, the owner came up and introduced himself and told me about the bike. He asked if I was a student looking for a bike in the city. I told him no, that it was just what my friends rode in the city. He asked why I wanted to ride, what my goals were, and what I had against gears. He explained if I was riding for fitness, gears would make me stronger, and that there were more hills out here than I thought there were.

He saw how eager I was to get out on the road and could have taken the easy sale, but instead he spent time educating me about things and sold me on the bike that was right for me — which ended up being $200 cheaper than what I was intending to buy. I ended up with an entry-level Specialized Sirrus, a flat bar road bike/fitness bike.

Getting out on the road that first day was liberating, then painful. I put about 15 miles in the saddle at a leisurely pace, before reading any number of sites telling you to take it easy and ride no more than one or two miles at a time your first few rides. I could hardly sit down for a week. Had it been a fixie or a single-speed, I probably would have quit. But because I got the right bike, I kept getting in the saddle.

About 10 days later, I was sick of sweating through my jeans and feeling the crotch seam on my tailbone. I went to look at cycling shorts, and to the delight of the LBS owner ended up buying a pair of tight lycras over baggy cargos. I should have known then I was hooked.

I kept pedaling away, racking up the miles, and tracking it all with the B.iCycle app. The transformation in my legs has been ridiculous, and the little pudge in my midsection that hung over my skin-clinging shorts is no more. I can cruise cruise comfortably at 20 mph, and 23-25 if I want to feel the burn. I’ve suffered a few flats and crashes, learned how to change tubes myself, invested in tools, learned how to clean a chain and do other general maintenance. I watch YouTube videos of the pros to get pumped up for rides.

And now I’ve officially put 1,000 miles on a fitness bike in less than four months.

With the weather turning cooler, and a biting Chicago winter not far away, I’m buying warm cycling clothing and looking around at indoor trainers. I’ve put my motorcycle up for sale on Craigslist to put toward a new road bike in the spring, which is likely going to run me a couple grand. If you told me four months ago I’d be selling my motorcycle to buy an expensive bicycle, I’d call you crazy. With the reading and research I’ve done over the past few months, I understand why some bikes approach $10,000. I don’t have that kind of cash, but if my legs ever get fast enough and my wallet flush enough, I wouldn’t see it as money ill spent.

Some people may never ride 1,000 miles in their lifetime, while others can do it in a little more than a week multiple times a season in the grand tours. I’m happily in between those two extremes, but can’t wait to see how hard I can push it.