Cycling: Keep On Rolling!

“Cycling has got to be the most unpleasant of all sports” – Haruki Murakami

I normally never listen to audiobooks. The first was recent and actually something of an accident. I was heading for the office and planning to catch the train when, for once, I checked my phone. Better make sure there were actually trains running. There were not. A fire alarm at my destination station had apparently gone off. So I headed home. Fortunately, I can work from home. When I do, I normally listen to online radio. This time, the app I use suggested an audiobook. By Haruki Murakami, no less. I don’t know why. It had obviously been using the camera on my phone to look along my bookshelf. Which is a bit disturbing if you linger on it…

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running.

This book was (and anyone who knows me knows how much I hate this word)… inspirational. The most overused word in the English language. But it actually was, for me at least. Recognisable, as well. Not because of any amazing athletic feats but because the sense of wonder and personal achievement in sport came through. So did the impact of ageing, slowing down. His experience of running reflected mine of cycling. I remembered the smiles, the joy, the random swearing. Being annoyed at the slick bastard who made it all seem so easy.

Murakami then screwed it up by starting to complain about cycling, but let’s not linger on that…

(Moving Toward) Past Tense

It’s his right, I suppose. I would say the same about running, especially these days when it is simply not on the agenda. But it was not what he said about cycling. It was the feelings that he expressed around running that reminded me of something that I had felt about cycling. I hasten to add, I still enjoy it! But the sense of achievement, the exhilaration of trying something new? That is a little gone. It is past tense.

I found that difficult for a very long time. This is the only time in this post I will mention MS, even though MS and cycling are oddly intertwined. I was diagnosed after issues that started after a cycling crash, after all. The rest is all over this blog. So is cycling. Or it was…

The Start

I said I wouldn’t mention MS much, but the first ‘big ride’ I undertook was because of MS. It was also to spite MS, give it a middle finger. In 2016, I cycled up Mont Ventoux as part of Climb Against MS. Klimmen Tegen MS to use its Dutch title. I had long loved the area around Ventoux and the mountain itself. For once, I find it difficult to find the words. I have been there so often but it leaves me dumbstruck. It always did. A challenge to raise funds for MS research through climbing it by bike? A no-brainer, right?

Well, I was a little unstable then already. A new bike, a Cannondale Synapse (Nickname: Cannonball, as in The Breeders song), had helped this a lot. I had never gone up anything on a bike. Indeed, I had only really started in 2014. I had gone over a bridge. Not really a mountain. But I was game, and so I did it.

With Cannonball – 2015

The fundraising was an enormous success. So much generosity from so many through sponsorship. The thrill of the climb as well. I have mentioned that feeling that comes after completing such a ride. Looking down and thinking, I did that! Before the exhilaration comes effort, hard work. In the months leading up to the climb I had cut down to one glass of wine a week or one beer. A week! OK, so perhaps I did not always manage to be so adherent to this regimen but… the intention was there! A big cut. Every weekend a long endurance ride. Short, power rides during the week in ALL weather. Averaging 250 to 300km a week. My weight went down to the extent that the official cycling clothes that had been tight when purchased in March were baggy as hell on the big day. All this led to the day itself. Painful. Seeing a wall in front of you and cycling up it. I had never cycled up a mountain before, so why not start with one of the toughest?

After Climb Against MS.

The Feeling

Mont Ventoux was the first and many followed. I could list them. Indeed, I do at the end of this post, the selected ‘big rides’. The achievements. A bit of an ego trip but why the hell not? I did them all! Despite falls in some cases. But lists don’t tell you feelings! Or what I called ‘The Feeling’, as mentioned earlier. I had it on every one of these rides. It comes at the end of the ride, usually after various other feelings:

  • First third of the ride: Why in f*ck’s name am I doing this? I want to go back to bed.
  • Second third of the ride: This hurts.
  • Final third: Can’t go back now because it’s nearly done… isn’t it?
  • Finish: The Feeling! Now give me a beer!

Completing a big ride, thighs aching, arms twitching and calves burning. Hot. Uncomfortable. Yet elated, so high. That your own legs can take you that far. That high. All of the doubts, the pain. It is gone. The Feeling is all that is there. Joy, emotion. So much. For once, I just don’t know how the hell to say this. Just believe me, it is a feeling like no other.

Approaching Summit of Mont Ventoux
Summit of Passo Gavia
The Passo dello Stelvio Climb

Shadows

Still, within all of these achievements there were moments. Moments where MS (sorry, mentioned it again!) was imposing its authority. Falling sideways on Côte de la Redoute in 2018, the feeling of limping on the pedals at the end of the Gavia climb. Still, I was pressing on, still strong. Then I had a puncture and everything fell apart.

It was a standard early morning ride. September 30th, 2020. A working-from-home day, so I started early, looking to get a quick couple of hours in the saddle and then back in time for the first calls of the day. All on schedule when my rear tyre punctured. No big deal. I had not punctured for a year or so but knew the drill. I had done this in the middle of nowhere a few times. That day, though, was different. My hands were too weak to get the tyre off the wheel rim. Indeed, it had been getting difficult to even clench a fist or hold a pen. I walked home with my beautiful 2018 Cannondale Synapse (a newer one, silver so it was named… Silver Machine… as in the Hawkwind song). The most expensive crutch in the world. It was needed as my foot drop set in after six kilometres of the nine-kilometre walk. Still, I made it. Everyone at work was fine and thought it was actually quite funny. I did as well. But the next day I still could not get the tyre off the wheel rim. The weekend as well.

Suddenly, just like that, independence was gone.

On Cote de la Redoute in 2017 (Not the year I fell)

Changes

I still cycled a lot. Still do, including the last two challenge rides. The Amstel Gold Race in 2021 and Col du Tourmalet in the French Pyrenees in 2022. Pretty epic rides although the signs were there. A lot of stops and far too much walking when it got really steep.

Perhaps I should have read the signs?

Of course I didn’t! I bought another bike! Planning on keeping those big rides going. A bike more suited for up-and-down efforts as opposed to out-and-out climbing. Great handling, ideal for tearing around country lanes. A Trek Domane (Nickname, The Dude… His Dudeness or Duder or, you know, El Duderino if you’re not into the whole brevity thing… sorry, I like The Big Lebowski). But I have hardly mentioned this bike in the blog. Less to write about.

Col du Tourmalet
Riding Amstel Gold Race

Slow Down

There is nothing wrong with the bike at all! It’s my legs. They are just not what they were. Average speed is slowing and all rides are stop-start, not just mountains. Indeed, a bridge is a major climb now.

Perhaps it is time to change the equation. E-road bikes make their appearance. I have used rental e-road bikes in the French Alps and Nice. It is not the same but it will do very nicely. I am still pretty strong but I just don’t feel the strain on my legs. It is good to have that little extra kick. And so good that the muscles actually ached the next day! In a good way! I felt them! And I swore randomly during the climbs, keeping the consistency of the experience. A door closed but another opened? Keeping it ajar at least.

Pride

I always knew, deep in my heart, that these days would be coming. That the e-bike can keep my horizons wide is so wonderful but there is also that feeling that… this is simply the next phase of the slow, downward spiral. The decline that comes with MS, that thing I did not want to mention in this post. That was the plan. But it tends to dominate so much as it progresses, making the choices fewer and the planning to support choices more intense.

It also simply takes away that which you love. Slowly, methodically.

It has been difficult to deal with, the fact that something which gives me energy and drive is stopping. Even when my walking was not brilliant I could still cycle up a mountain. Now I can’t, not without a little help. It is that loss of independence. Needing someone, something.

All I can do is try to keep the experiences open, moving. Keep the pride in what I have done. All these big efforts were done with MS. I am so proud of these. As a friend told me when I reminded them I had fallen sideways on Redoute, you’re not the only one! I carried on and finished. It felt good. I will get those feelings again, revisit the joy of the past. With a little help.

Cycling Now: Full Circle

So, this year, it will be back to Mont Ventoux.

Perhaps that sounds a little flippant. It will be another amazing adventure, a different achievement. I am preparing already, physically. The muscles are strong but the wiring is so crap. I can barely walk two kilometres without dragging my right foot and I am typing this mostly with my left hand. Earlier today I wrote in my diary and two hours later I can barely read it. The feeling in the right hand can be that bad. Still, I can ride a bike. A bit of electric doping doesn’t hurt these days. It will still be my achievement if I make it. If I don’t, if I am too unstable, for example, I will not be stubborn. I will have tried, though. Going back to where it all started, ten years ago. Full circle, perhaps.

Those feelings, reawakened in me by reading of Murakami’s experiences of running, will be there. The mountain air, clear blue sky (hopefully!). All the sensations as I grind up the Bald Mountain, the Giant of Provence… the Beast of Provence. All those nicknames that sound so special but halfway up, what do I call it?

You f*cking bald b*stard! Why do you want to kill me?

That wall that I cycled up ten years ago is waiting for me. I choose to try it again. I will not be riding alone. Friends will be there and the bike itself will have a little extra push. I simply cannot do these things under my own power. Murakami may find it the most unpleasant of all sports but those words of his? I find them echoed in my cycling. And all the moments it has given me. Things that I will never lose.

The Dude
Silver Machine

The Big Rides, By Year

All of these have amazing memories but if I recounted them this already long post would become impossible! But, with each of these rides, there was something that made them more than just a bike ride. Sunrise over Cap de Formentor, seeing how beautiful the Ardennes really are, cycling through walls of snow on Passo dello Stelvio when I was in short sleeves! Magic...

The list below also has Strava activities embedded. Just so you know I am not bullsh*tting. A note on some of the odd names. I often name Strava activities after songs. Why, I don’t really remember. A nice playlist, though! And I thought it would be painful to go through this list. Actually, felt good. I made the most of my body when I could. Nice to be reminded of this!

Like this post?

Click on a star to rate it!

Average rating 5 / 5. Vote count: 4

No votes so far! Be the first to rate this post.

We are sorry that this post was not useful for you!

Let us improve this post!

Tell us how we can improve this post?