"I’m leaving again. New year, new season. Time to pack my suitcase; I know the process; the routine stays the same. I’m sent a ticket; I’m sent a plan. I rarely know where I’m going if I were to point it out on a map – I just have to turn up. My bike is ready when I land. New kit; same colours. ⠀
⠀
I’ve spent most of the winter training alone, my shadow as my only companion on the road, always a half wheel ahead of me. Me against myself, trying to beat the rider I was yesterday. ⠀
⠀
Pre-season camps have come and gone. It’s time to pin on a number – it doesn’t count until you’ve got two numbers on your back. Discs, electronic gearshift, aero helmets, it’s the pins that keep it all together. I almost prick my finger to remind myself what’s in store.⠀
⠀
I find comfort in sticking to my routines because everything else is so unpredictable. No one knows what’s going to happen. Everyone is waiting to see who comes out on top, but deep down all we want is to see who cracks. 200 bike riders line up, only one crosses the line first. The rest go home with shattered dreams. ⠀
⠀
First race of the year. ⠀
⠀
I look around. Who looks lean? Who looks fat? The arms are always a giveaway. I’ve followed a plan for months. Stuck to it religiously. Now it’s time to see if it’s worked. I catch my reflection in empty shop windows, pretending I’m looking at something else. But we all do it.⠀
⠀
I can feel the insecurity creep up. Could I have done better? Have the others trained more?⠀
⠀
Why care about the others? They’re not pushing my pedals. At the end of the day it’s the lungs, legs and heart that decide the outcome.⠀
⠀
So why do I do it? Why put myself through so much suffering, year in, year out? Because I’m addicted to it. We all are. It’s got to hurt; that’s the whole point. Those who can’t accept it rarely last very long: they pull out; they quit; they go home.⠀
⠀
You don’t have to win for it all to make sense. You have to do the hard miles in order to enjoy the tailwind. It may only last for a minute. Eventually it all works out, when your legs feel like a reservoir of power." ⠀
⠀
Chris Juul-Jensen: back in the bunch.⠀
⠀
#Rouleur #InsideThePeloton⠀
⠀
I’ve spent most of the winter training alone, my shadow as my only companion on the road, always a half wheel ahead of me. Me against myself, trying to beat the rider I was yesterday. ⠀
⠀
Pre-season camps have come and gone. It’s time to pin on a number – it doesn’t count until you’ve got two numbers on your back. Discs, electronic gearshift, aero helmets, it’s the pins that keep it all together. I almost prick my finger to remind myself what’s in store.⠀
⠀
I find comfort in sticking to my routines because everything else is so unpredictable. No one knows what’s going to happen. Everyone is waiting to see who comes out on top, but deep down all we want is to see who cracks. 200 bike riders line up, only one crosses the line first. The rest go home with shattered dreams. ⠀
⠀
First race of the year. ⠀
⠀
I look around. Who looks lean? Who looks fat? The arms are always a giveaway. I’ve followed a plan for months. Stuck to it religiously. Now it’s time to see if it’s worked. I catch my reflection in empty shop windows, pretending I’m looking at something else. But we all do it.⠀
⠀
I can feel the insecurity creep up. Could I have done better? Have the others trained more?⠀
⠀
Why care about the others? They’re not pushing my pedals. At the end of the day it’s the lungs, legs and heart that decide the outcome.⠀
⠀
So why do I do it? Why put myself through so much suffering, year in, year out? Because I’m addicted to it. We all are. It’s got to hurt; that’s the whole point. Those who can’t accept it rarely last very long: they pull out; they quit; they go home.⠀
⠀
You don’t have to win for it all to make sense. You have to do the hard miles in order to enjoy the tailwind. It may only last for a minute. Eventually it all works out, when your legs feel like a reservoir of power." ⠀
⠀
Chris Juul-Jensen: back in the bunch.⠀
⠀
#Rouleur #InsideThePeloton⠀
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