Book Review- The Need for the Bike- Paul Fournel

I picked this up having read Fournel's part-biography, part- poetic character study of Anquetil earlier in the year having been engrossed and enchanted by the richness of language and the deep understanding of Maitre Jacques. So I was keen to see how he would follow this up, and I was not to be disappointed.

This book is made up of short (often between 2 and 4 pages long) reflections on what it is to be a cyclist and the experience of riding a bike whether in a race, a Sunday morning group ride or a solitary commute around Paris and everything in between. It is no surprise that, taking Fournel's role as a philosopher, writer and poet, the descriptions are beautifully realised, but really it is his role- or his actual identity- as a cyclist that overrides (no pun intended) all. My favourite writing on cycling all seems to stem from France (Jean Bobet's "Tomorrow We Ride" for example) and this is another beautiful combination of French literary panache and the nation's deeply embedded love of the bike. Time and again, reading through the book, I was struck by how Fournel was able to put onto paper the conscious and unconscious thoughts and experiences that seem universal to anyone who has ever thrown their leg over a saddle. There are moments of recognition, and moments of revelation, where you suddenly see in front of you thoughts you didn't know you had but are revealed like an epiphany as you turn a page.

I cannot recommend this work highly enough, and it certainly puts a lot of poorer writing about cycling (certain Team Sky/ INEOS riders and their "auto" biographies with the emphasis on pub crawls, I am looking at you!) into the shade. I hark back to David Coventry's "The Invisible Mile" where beautifully crafted individual sentences on their own are not enough to add to an intellectual and creatively interesting whole, and am very relieved to see that Fournel is a worthy addition alongside the names of Krabbé and Bobet in the canon of cycling writing.

Lap the Lough 2019 - The Return...

Some background...

When I first started this blog it was mainly off the back of an interesting year in procycling, where so much had happened that worthy stories and memories were hidden by more recent and equally headline grabbing ones and I wanted to simply use this space to aid my recall. It may have deviated from that, primarily due to my irregular approach to adding to it, but I feel this post may hark back to that initial aim as a personal aide memoire. 

So what has this got to do with Lap the Lough? Well, every year between 2011 and 2016 I was on my laptop as the 31st December clicked over to the 1st Jan, which is when LtL entries would go live. I would invariably go for the option with jersey and sign up, knowing I had a full 8 months to prepare.  However, starting with 2017, something changed. I took a bit longer than usual to decide to sign up. Then, after I did, I was asked to go on a training course in Dublin that same weekend, which while, it would have had me home on Saturday night, gave me an excuse not to do it. The following year I didn't even sign up at all- how did I go from uber-fan to "meh"?  

It was probably a combination of things, some personal and some to do with the event itself.  Redundancy from a job I had done for 10 years, helping build a project up to punching above its weight, meant motivation was lacking for a while, even after I found a new job. I also had a volunteering role that reduced time on the bike, But primarily it was the route change in 2016 that did it for me- normally, due to the flat nature of the parcours, if real life did get in the way, you could still make your way around. However the move to Dungannon meant a long climb into the town for the last 2 miles that was a real morale buster- to my mind LtL has always been about people who wanted to do big miles, since every other sportive was focussed on the mountain goats. It was great to have one that was not about smart-arse organisers trying to put a "sting-in-the-tail". While not adverse to the odd bit of vertical (after all the Billy Kerr, Tour of the Orchard County, ABC Sportive and Causeway Coast all have sizeable lumps), LtL was primarily for the person who wanted a challenge but wasn't necessarily a club rider.  Having to stop for a brief rest on the climb in 2016 less than a mile from the finish wasn't great for the old self -esteem. So for the next two years I stayed away.

However 2019 dawned with, initially, a stirring of old interests. LtL announced a new start/finish in the Moy, and I wanted to do some more fundraising. In an attempt to convert a spark into a fire (if not a conflagration), I found old habits dying hard, so at the start of January I clicked on the early bird offer.

 The 2019 Experience...
So how did 2019 shape up for me? Firstly I need to be clear- (caution- a wee bit of foreshadowing!)- nothing I mention is the fault of the organisers. They do a fantastic job setting up and running a very complicated event particularly when you have to work with humans (and let's be honest if the last few years in politics have shown anything it is that there are many more eejits than we may have initially believed possible). However I knew within 15 minutes of starting my ride with 2,499 of my closest friends that my LtL hiatus will probably be re-instated.

Is this the face of a man having an enjoyable day?

• The Start 

         LtL always have the good sense to stagger start times- it isn't the most sensible thing to fire off 2,500 cyclists of varied ability and aims onto narrow country roads at once. The faster riders go off first (those who average 18mph+), followed by the medium folk (14-17 mph- my category) then the slower groups. In theory this cuts down on too many incidents with faster riders trying to push through and get past denser crowds at the start and also allows for solo riders to hopefully find themselves in a group who can ride together at the same speed. 
However, human nature being what it is, and peoples inability to  read email instructions or ability to assume they don't apply to them, means the middle groups tend to have club riders who were too late for their start slots, and too-eager tootlers starting together with us. The end result meant that my bunch of about 15 saw a group of fellas tearing off the road ahead of me and another group with flat-barred bikes and t-shirts dropping behind leaving me on my own- I knew then a long day was going to get even longer.

•  Group Riding Skills (or lack thereoff) 

This isn't a new issue for LtL though it seems to be one that affects it more than other sportives I have taken part in- probably because of the unique nature of the event that makes it attractive beyond the usual target groups. So-much-so I crafted my own take on the Velominati Rules specifically for sportives . While the groups seemed to fragment earlier this year meaning actual close-pack riding was limited, there was still a severe lack of awareness among many of the participants about what was going on around them. Warnings weren't called or passed back, people would turn to look at the person next to them to have conversations (nb it is possible to chat to other people while riding or driving within having to maintain eye contact) and overall just no recognition that events like this can throw Newton's third law of motion into disarray- for in a peloton, every action has a much larger as opposed to equal reaction.  In fact Sunday's event had me questioning some other fundamentals of physics- for example the conservation of momentum. On a number of occasions I was behind some groups on a descent and could see the road going upwards straight away. Rather than try and build up speed and use that to get up the hill, those at the front pootled along, preventing those of us behind getting the extra assistance from gravity before it turned against us. The accordion effect in cycling isn't simply limited to the work of the late Yvette Horner.

There were also two contrasting other groups, each of whom caused their own problems. One were those who were inconsistent in their riding- I would try and sit in with them, prepared to take a turn, but they couldn't hold their line, were inconsistent and dive-bombed each other on corners, while seemingly being oblivious to overtaking motor vehicles. In this case I ended up using more precious energy because it was safer to get away from them and ride on my own. Having to choose between riding in unsteady groups and getting a bit of shelter, or sitting on my own in a headwind for 39 miles on the way back was not a nice choice to have to make.

Conversely the other issue were the disciplined club groups. They were intent on drilling it in pacelines. That was fine if they started with the other clubfolk, but on too many occasions they came up from behind overtaking slower people and not always taking into consideration the conditions when doing so. I lost count of the number of potholes I was nearly forced into as a club come steaming past just as I was about to move out around them.  
As an example- the route covers some of my local roads so I knew that around an approaching blind bend lay a sudden, steep hill and I began to adjust my cadence and gear selection appropriately. Just at that a club group came thundering past, only to almost come to a dead stop as they suddenly met the hill. Not only did they struggle to get into the proper gears, this caused those of us behind to lose our rhythm and suddenly it became a bottleneck.  

• The most hateful stretch...

Again, this seems like an opportune moment to re-emphasise that none of these issues are the fault of the organisers- they are at the mercy of individual's own decision making processes and personalities when it comes to how they ride. They are also limited in relation to topography- if your event is based on the premise of circumnavigating a geographical feature then options can be restricted. So that leads on to what, for each year, has been the most horrible stretch of the parcours. That is from the lunch stop in Clotworthy House to the far side of Randalstown.  By the time most of us reach Antrim, traffic is busy. Leaving the grounds, just as your legs are getting used to going around in circles again after a short break, you are immediately trust onto a busy A-road with really grippy asphalt, and drivers who seem to have an aversion to putting any of their wheels over the white line to overtake. It is constant traffic and then over a roundabout  before heading into Randalstown. Then we begin a long, draggy climb which seems to have been very badly patched  after some roadworks to make it that more difficult. As soon as the climbing stops we are on to narrow roads, which would normally be fine to ride, but when you have impatient drivers, fed up being held up with scattered cyclists, using any amount of space to squeeze past (this year I was actually touched by a car overtaking me at the narrowest point of the road) any relief is soon lost. It is also about then that we pick up the cross-headwind that will be pushing against us the whole way back.

• Take Me Home, Country Roads...

This has been touched on under some of the other headings but was important enough to justify its own section in relation to my experiences. Over the past couple of years the roads around the Loughshore seem to be deteriorating quite badly and repairs seem to have been contracted out to Les Amis de Paris-Roubaix. While car drivers will only notice the worst of it, from a cycling perspective, especially in groups (and extra-especially with groups who don't always call out warnings),  it is very clear on a bike. There are potholes, collapsed edges, roughed up or sunken asphalt and other obstacles that I don't remember from as little as two years ago. This. added to poor group riding, makes the event even more tiring than it should be.

In Summary...
I am aware that this reads like one long whinge fest- however to bring it back to my point in the opening paragraph (while you ask why I just couldn't do that in the second paragraph to save you reading through the rest)- this blog was supposed to help me remember cycling related stuff and I now have one thing I need to be reminded of . And it is simply this- when the registrations go live again in January I can look back on this and remind myself the event probably isn't for me any more.

 Yes, I have some responsibility in that my training wasn't what it should be, but as noted above- sometimes real life has an ability to intrude on the best of plans. But even in years where I haven't been as active on the bike I enjoyed at least parts of it- this year I found the whole day unenjoyable from the start. When asked by a work colleague how I got on, I described the last 40 miles as being like a "dark night of the soul". A wee bit overdramatic perhaps but when you find you're asking yourself where the easiest place to give your wife directions to come pick you up  is, particularly in an event you once knocked off in less than 4 hours and 50 minutes one year, it doesn't sit well. Yes I completed it, but rather than pride it is annoyance that I did it so badly. Was it the physical or mental aspect that made it most difficult? Had I already convinced myself in the run up that I was going to struggle and it became self-fulfilling? I kept thinking about the training I hadn't done as opposed to the training I had and really the fact that people were so generous in their donations was the main thing that dragged me to the line.

So congratulations are due to many people- those who organised the event and also to those who took part, especially for the first time and with limited experience and made it around. Feedback on the LtL FB page is very positive and maybe it is only because I spent the whole day on my own (normally not an issue for a socially awkward individual like me!) rather than with a group that I was so aware of the other things listed above.  But on reflection I have to face up to the fact that LtL is no longer for me and will be looking back on this in about 5 months when the temptation to sign up for 2020 hits again.

I will end on two things- firstly  special thanks to all my sponsors- you were all very, very generous and that was the one thing that keep those pedals turning- I raised over £400 for Craigavon Samaritans and that money (while well-earned!) will go to great use.

Secondly, if you are thinking of signing up for an event next year and haven't done one before then don't let my moaning put you off- I have gone to great pains to highlight that Lap the Lough is a genuinely great initiative and don't want to put anyone off doing it.

Suffering for a cause...

****Note- this is a slight reworking of a piece from a couple of years ago-  2 years after I last did a bit of fundraising for Samaritans by dragging my extra kgs around Lough Neagh, I am doing it again****

We're cyclists and we are in love with pain. From the very first coverage of the classics and Grand Tours, tales are based on adjectives that wouldn't look out of place in a realistic, gritty war novel. Since the first bike races were held to sell newspapers, and they were the only way to keep the public informed, dramatic tales of suffering and heroism became the norm, the more evocative and entrancing, the more copies of your paper would be sold.

The semi-religious, semi-martial mythologies of the convicts of the road shaped how the narratives around bike racing were formed, even today with our more cynical and media-savvy populace. "Calvary", "Enfer du nord", "Fight for Pink"- these motifs are still drawn upon as journalists and authors try to give the general public at least some semblance of an insight into the men and women who make their living hauling 6.8kg of carbon fibre up mountain passes or across unforgiving cobbles.

And so- this is quite a tenuous link to what I really want to write about tonight. Yes there is some heroism in suffering, particularly when it would be easier and more tempting just to step off the bike- both literally and figuratively. And there is always room for heroism and dealing with pain alone- however we have to remember that there are limits. Limits where even the most ardent, most competitive cyclist knows that they have reached and maybe it is time to turn around and ask the directeur sportif to let them into the car. Even the best don't go beyond their limits without the support and safety net of a team. And this is not just about physical pain and exhaustion- any sportsperson will tell you the mental aspect is as important, if not more so, and needs careful monitoring and conditioning, just as muscles and the cardiovascular system do. If you read anything about Team Sky and British Cycling success stories, every rider and staff member will mention the role of Steve Peters and how he was as important as the aerodynamists or interpreters of training data.

And this Sunday I will be going through the physical suffering to try and help alleviate those whose pain isn't so visible. I will be doing Lap the Lough to raise funds for Craigavon branch of Samaritans. Yep I know it is only 90 miles (I will be adding a few extra on to make the ton) and many people will see this as no more than a normal Sunday run, but I have to admit that work and other commitments (including those linked to being a Samaritan volunteer) mean that I am already trying to work out my pacing strategy (not helped by the changed route- thanks folks!!). My training has been derailed for one reason and another so it will be a long day in the saddle- a few events that I normally use over the summer to get the legs working were cancelled or postponed this year so I am short in miles - and I only wish this was me getting my excuses in early!

No matter what time of day or night, or what time of year there will be Samaritan volunteers listening to callers or replying to e-mails or texts sent  by people who want to be listened to. In some cases they are ready to step off the bike, but in many other cases they simply want to be heard. My Lap the Lough adventure will go a small way to make sure Craigavon branch is able to offer that opportunity to be heard- to be the team car handing out energy gels and bidons to ensure the person can make it that bit further,  and hopefully closer to safety so that when they do climb of the bike it is into the safety of a team bus, and not an abandonment with no one around .



I'm not a natural fundraiser- I really hate asking people for money particularly in these tight times, but if you would like to ease my physical pain and the mental pain of many, many others my fundraising page is here. And if you can't give that is fine- you can do your bit by simply spreading the word that Samaritans exist, they can be contacted on 116 123 (free call) or e-mailed at jo@samaritans.org .

 (Please note that if you do want to contact Samaritans use those details rather than just through this blog.)

Book Review- The Secret Cyclist (Yellow Jersey Press, 2019)

The Secret Pro over on Cycling Tips has been a constant go-to for quite some time now. Its insight from the male and female pelotons appears on a very irregular basis, (so it can be disappointing when no article is posted following some big or controversial developments) but as soon as one surfaces, I click over immediately. Of course part of the attraction is trying to piece together details in the articles to try and work out who is behind the keyboard, but the strength of the Secret Pro is that the content is informative and well (ghost) written, so that this is not the overwhelming focus. There have been suggestions that it is the product of more than one pro and their stories merged and the writer often clearly admits to throwing in the odd red herring to frustrate the amateur sleuths, but no matter what the theories, it is always worth a read - it is just a shame that the dispatches from the SHEcret Pro who reports from the women's bunch are even rarer than the male one.

That lead me to this book, which arrived with no fanfare last month- in fact I came across it when browsing in a book shop next to work one lunch time. I normally am quite alert to new books (for example I'm looking forward to William Fotheringham's Beryl Burton offering) so to just happen upon it was a bit strange. It should also be clearly noted that this is not the Cycling Tips Secret Pro- it is generally recognised that he is an antipodean whereas it is more probable-than-not that the unnamed author here is European. But you would expect a book, based on an insider view of the world of pro-cycling to have more of a buzz about it- particularly when thinking about some of the more recent issues that most of us would dearly love to know what the pros really thought- eg Froome and Wiggins' TUE shenanigans, mechanical fraud, DSs and coaches with links to the bad old days etc.

So of course the obvious question- who is the secret cyclist? Did I work it out? Well we will come to that- at the end...

The writing style is quite simple and clear- either this is mostly the work of the cyclist himself or the ghost writer avoided the temptation to avoid any stylistic flourishes. It is basically "this is what happened, this is what I think about it" and to be fair this is probably a strength- this is basically gossip and it is the what happened and why that readers will be interested in, not a more up to date Krabbé or Jean Bobet masterclass in writing about cycling.

Rather than add too many spoilers, it probably makes sense just to briefly summarise some of the topics touched on by the Secret Cyclist, rather than go into detail about what he thinks about them. Phil Gaimon, famous now for his cookie makin', KoM takin' post-retirement antics actually gets a bit of a hard time in the book. Sky/ INEOS are discussed, as well as various controversies over the past few years. Certain equipment brands may not be pleased with the less than glowing (no pun intended) references but then that is the benefit of anonymity ( though some folk may take umbrage with Gaimon's treatment since he actually puts his name to his output).

There are more personal reflections too- about the day to day life, and the need to balance family and relationships alongside training and competition. The SC discusses the decision he and his wife made as to where to actually live, and how work-life balance was key to that. One chapter is actually written by his wife, to give another interesting perspective but one thing that underpins the whole book is the high level of self-awareness exhibited by the author. He is very aware of the bubble in which he lives, and discusses his attempts to have a sustainable life that keeps him in the right place mentally, as well as his preparations for retirement (the Phil Ochs fan in me struggled to avoid using "Rehearsals for Retirement" there...).

The book is easily and quickly read, and may be of a wider interest than just die-hard fans- for example my wife picked it up and was quite interested to read through quite a few chapters. While not choc-a-bloc with earth-shattering expositions, it does sate the desire to find out what (at least some sections of the) World Tour pros think about outside of dull, media trained interviews. However they did have to be careful in case his identify became known because some DSs and equipment manufacturers might not be very pleased with their portrayal. And that leads back to the first point I raised- can the identity of SC be worked out? Actually I think it can, and quite easily with a wee bit of effort. About 20 minutes on Procyclingstats and picking up on a few comments that were designed to be throwaway but reveal more they seem and I am convinced there is only one person who fits the bill. Who is it? That would be giving the game away but if I put on my cryptic crossword hat all I will say is "that options are initially limited...". 😉😎

Book Review- Magic Spanner: The World of Cycling According to Carlton Kirby

Carlton is a commentator on who people have definite opinions- there is a well worn cliché based on a certain yeast extract that I could drop in here but won't. Personally I like Carlton- yes, occasionally he can be infuriating but he knows his job and he does it well- his passion for cycling is real and he isn't afraid to show it (listen to his commentary on Keisse's famous Tour of Turkey stage win or him audibly welling up as he described Stijn Devolder continually battling to come back to the head of the leading group despite countless incidences of bad luck during Paris-Roubaix a few years back). His mastery of language, puns, and stream-of-consciousness verbiage, often in the heat of the battle is to be admired as well as his irreverent lifting of the curtain showing us back stage at the world's biggest cycling races.

So I was looking forward to seeing if this book would reflect his on-screen (or at least on-mic) personality, and it does. The content is strewn with Kirby-isms (probably the most Kirbylike of all being the one about Henri Cornet- I won't spoil it!) so reading it, can at times be like listening to him calling a close GC-shaping summit finish. The tempo throughout seems to reflect that of a stage- sometimes flowing along then suddenly a burst of action, followed by some more calmness before a final flurry. He covers incidents in the race, on the road, in the booth and in media circus and a lot of the tales that involve Sean Kelly, Brian Smith or Daniel Lloyd seem to match up perfectly with the personas they project on screen. In fact they are such central characters they could almost qualify as being credited as co-authors.

One of the things you can definitely say about Carlton is that he has got a high level of self-awareness and this comes through- he is confident in his abilities and at times it may veer a wee bit towards Milwall-esque "No one likes me and I don't care" it is clear he has no misconceptions as to where he sits in regards his profession , almost taking on and relishing the role of the confident pub raconteur, holding court on many subjects and professing on them without fear of contradiction.

The actual content of the book is on the whole every illuminating and humorous. However some of this is lost when he insists on falling back onto lazy, national stereotypes when describing the actions of others- in many cases he refers to them by nationality rather than name, as if that was some kind of explanation as to why they acted the way they did. On the other hand when he is talking about British riders, he goes into great detail to highlight their differences in character and personality and portrays them more as whole people rather than the other Europeans who are often reduced to hackneyed descriptions. Also his clear love of Team Sky/ INEOS and their riders seems to prevent him from criticising them at all, unlike other individuals or teams in the book. Carlton is probably the only person involved in cycling who thinks Sky PR played a blinder in relation to the scandals and situations they have found themselves embroiled in. His profile of Froome plays up some rather unattractive personality traits but presents them as laudable, and doesn't even mention the Sabutomol case- it is only mentioned later in passing in a different part of the book, and when he profiles Wiggins, there is no mention of the TUE stuff either. There is a blind acceptance that Froome was cleared in regards his difficulties despite the fact that he was not vindicated- a rider with fewer capital resources behind him would still currently be serving a suspension. 

Maybe this is the difficulty with producing a book while still working in the media around cycling- it is clear that anything touching on criticism of Sky/Ineos would run the risk of him impacting Eurosport's access to them which they can't afford- see Brailsford's reaction to other media outlets in the past and indeed Carlton admitting here about having to apologise on-air to Froome who had texted him following coverage of an incident at the Veulta- despite Kirby being in the right saying what he said. It is unfortunate because this does spoil the behind-the -scenes no holds barred view that this book is being sold as. Also he gets a wee bit "Little Englander" towards the end when saying that he gets great pleasure about the fact the British riders have been so successful to the detriment of the traditional cycling powers in Europe- an element of exceptionalism normally found in the letters pages of the Daily Mail that doesn't seem to sit so well particularly taking cycling's more internationalist outlook into consideration.

So in summary, some very nice anecdotes, an interesting reflection on elements of life in the cycling bubble but just a bit too much "Johnny Foreigner doesn't like it up 'em" and granting full absolution for Team Sky despite their sins not necessarily having been fully disclosed in the confessional. 

 

 

Back Once Again (for the Renegade Master...)

Ok, I admit it. Over the past while, this blog has been like a Sky fan's replica jersey when the soccer season is on. Good intentions (you should see the draft folder of half constructed ramblings which would be anachronistic to finish and post now) have not necessarily been followed up by actions either here, or more concernedly, on the bike.  Last year was the first in many years when I didn't take part in a single event or sportive, even the one that starts literally 450 metres away from my house. The bike has gone weeks without being touched, and I was frankly embarrassed that my yearly total of kms "gotten in" was less than what many folk would do in a month. To be honest the rot had set in the previous year when I didn't take part in Lap the Lough, even though I had signed up for it. I had to go on a course that weekend, but the fact I was relieved to have this as an excuse should have set alarm bells ringing- the first time in 7 years I hadn't circumnavigated Lough Neagh, which was normally my main event of the year.

It wasn't cycling that put me off- I was still staying up way too late at night watching any race I could. Paris-Roubaix and the World Championships still saw me staking out a spot in front of the TV for hours. It wasn't the weather either- after all if you don't ride in the rain in Ireland, you don't get to ride a lot, and anyway  Flanderian type conditions allow me to continue to fool myself daydreaming that if things had been different I could have been the next Sean Kelly (probably closer to being Frank Kelly playing Fr Jack). It just seemed that for various reasons motivation was hard to come by (I was going to add "and time" there but when I am motivated, I always find time). I would lie in bed at night planning the next day's route, but when it came to it the actual act of getting into my gear, pumping tyres, checking lights etc, it just seemed so much effort and a quick glance outside at the shrub in the garden that is a good indicator of wind strength and direction was enough to have me back down on the couch. Even a week off at Easter with some great weather saw me using painting the fence as an excuse not to go out for even a short spin.

But recently I have found some old stirrings reappearing. I signed up for LtL back in Jan to give myself something to work towards. A bit of weight loss over Lent and getting some of my evenings back (I have been constantly delivering various courses at night since Sept) seem to be helping. Some of the other issues impacting motivation are still there (though really getting out on the bike should be a cure for many of those). The average has dropped, the inclines more difficult but somehow the mojo has reappeared. I have entered a sportive just over a month from now to give myself something else to keep me out there. And that is the reason I have added to this blog tonight- it is another marker- simply doing something. Yes, this stuff probably isn't of interest to anyone out side of a small circle of friends (hey-come for the cycling content, stay for the Phil Ochs lyrics) but the Giro is on, the Amgen ToC TV coverage still has more onscreen graphics at any one time that really makes me concerned for the attention span of their intended viewer (though it would explain a hell of a lot!) and I've got tickets to see Billy Bragg in Dublin in July- so the signs are good that the motivation should be here for quite some time to come!