Orny's Cycling Journal

In March, when I was in Kuala Lumpur (heheh!) I scoped out a local bookstore’s manga, Buddhism, and cycling sections. In the latter, I discovered the intriguingly-titled “Into the Suffersphere: Cycling and the Art of Pain”. Which I set aside because it was pricey in Malaysian ringits. However, I later requested it from Amazon.

The book covers three predominant topics. The first is professional bike racing and cycling culture. The second—which derives from cycling—is suffering: its manifestation and methods of coping, and the doping that pervades the sport. That gives way to the third topic: the philosophical relationship between man and his suffering, seen through the lens of (of all things) Theravada Buddhism.

You might think “Orny, this is the perfect book for you!” And to some degree you’re right, although I’ve long since become disgusted and given up following the perpetual circus of lying and cheating that calls itself “competitive cycling”. So the book gets a cool review from me in that respect.

Then there’s the theme, or lack thereof. Taken one way, the book is a series of anecdotes and observations related to those three main topics; however, it never supplies the reader with an overall thesis, argument, or conclusion. OTOH, from a less goal-oriented point of view, it’s a wildly eclectic and engaging jaunt through a storehouse of seemingly random and improbable connections and associations.

The only way I can communicate this breadth is by listing out some of the people the author cites and things he refers to. I’ll start with the most pertinent to the topic, and proceed to the more eclectic.

Addressing cycling, the author references the Strava social network whose name is the Swedish word for “striving”, and its infamous Suffer Score metric (which was recently replaced by the completely useless “Relative Effort”, as I mentioned toward the end of my previous blogpost). He mentions Team Sky’s focus on “marginal gains” and Chris Froome’s perpetual glassy-eyed stare at the power data on his bike computer. He mentions Graeme Obree’s singleminded attempts at the hour record, and Jens Voigt’s famous “Shut up legs!” quote. Cycling’s most infamous drug busts, including Operacion Puerto. Tim Krabbe’s semi-autobiographical novel “The Rider”, and a short piece by Alfred Jarry with the stunning title: “The Crucifixion Considered as an Uphill Bicycle Race”. Consideration is given to concepts as contemporary as MAMILs and “The Rules” according to the ludicrously pretentious Velominati.

In terms of Buddhism, the author’s knowledge is broad and detailed, but that’s not surprising given that he is a longtime resident of Chiang Mai, Thailand. He describes the phenomenon of “monkey mind” and the modern preoccupation with mindfulness, from Thich Nhat Hanh to Jon Kabat-Zinn’s completely secular MBSR. He mentions Theravada, dhamma, the Four Divine Messengers, the Middle Way, the Four Noble Truths, the Noble Eightfold Path, Right Effort and Right Concentration, dukkha and sukha, the Wheel of the Dharma, samsara and nirvana, jhana, impermanence, non-attachment, and the Buddha’s final instruction upon his parinirvana to strive diligently.

Moving gradually further afield, he cites several philosophers, ranging from Nietzsche to John Stuart Mill, the Dalai Lama, Malcolm Gladwell, the Roman stoics, Alan Watts, Karl Marx, Albert Camus, Terry Pratchett, and the Black Knight’s “It’s only a scratch” sketch from Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

Also of interest to me were his geographical references, which included his homeland of Thailand, Malaysia’s Tour de Langkawi race, Cambodia, Phuket, Singapore, and the classic Thai phrases “farang” and “mai ben rai”.

Being an English expat, he must also enjoy his football, because he also references superstar Lionel Messi and makes fun of the soccer world’s most infamous ear-biting racist asshole, Luis Suarez.

In terms of random tidbits that struck a chord with me, he uses “klicks” as shorthand for “kilometers”. Mentions “postural hypotension”: fainting upon getting up too fast. Finds women in yoga pants a distraction from meditation. As a jew, he goes to great lengths to relate how uncommon cycling is amongst his tribe. And he rails a bit against society’s ridicule of anything undertaken by middle-aged men (I’ll have more to say about that soon in a post on my main blog).

As you can see, he covers an awful lot of ground, and much of it does resonate with me. I guess I’d be more enthusiastic about it if I didn’t take pervasive doping in sport as seriously as I do; instead, focusing on something I find so pathetic evokes a sense of depression in me.

Still, it’s an entertaining read and a good enough book overall. For most people, it’d be better to request from a library than purchase outright… but few libraries will stock something this specialized and esoteric.

While there’s a lot more that the author could have said about it, I’m glad to see anything that covers the interface between cycling, suffering, and philosophy (and specifically Buddhism).

You knew it was coming: another big doping bust in cycling.

Just like the infamous 1998 Festina affair, this year’s drama played out about 48 hours prior to the start of the Tour de France. Of course, back then the riders vigorously protested the treatment of the accused riders. Among the fallout was an effort to codify doping controls in every contract. Today every rider and every team must agree to compete ethically and without use of performance-enhancing drugs.

What that means is that unlike 1998, this year the Tour organizers and national and international cycling federations have a solid, explicit justification for excluding both teams and individual riders who are under credible suspicion of doping.

And that’s exactly what they did. When the Operacion Puerto pot boiled over, nine riders, plus two entire teams of riders, were excluded from competition. Of the top five riders in last year’s Tour de France, the only person wasn’t excluded was the now-retired Lance Armstrong.

The discouraging thing about this bust was that it wasn’t the result of rider drug testing; it was an ongoing investigation into a particular physician. What’s that say about the accuracy of all those drug tests the riders undergo, both in and out of competition? Either the tests don’t work, or the system is completely corrupt and broken by design.

Of course, there’s also an open question about where to draw the line. Is sleeping in an altitude tent doping? Is training at altitude? Which products are valid supplements and which constitute doping, and what’s the difference? What products are riders allowed to take to combat chronic or acute symptoms? Remember the complete stupidity of withholding treatment for Jonathan Vaughters’ bee sting in the 2001 Tour?

I, personally, stay away from just about anything that makes claims to enhance performance. I don’t use recovery drinks, protein powders, Cytomax, goo-style products, or even caffeine. I’ll drink Gatorade, but that’s it; I figure sugar and water are respectable enough for me, and that extra half a mile per hour that anything else might give me just isn’t worth the loss of my peace of mind.

Cycling is a sport that uses both strength and endurance in great measures; it’s a sport where doping can make a very real difference. So doping is very common. Even before Operacion Puerto, there were a number of very high visibility doping cases under way: Roberto Heras, Tyler Hamilton, David Millar.

But despite that, it’s sad that cycling is gaining such a strong reputation as being corrupt to the core. The regulatory bodies are trying to do the right thing, but by taking such strong measures when it is found, cycling garners all kinds of publicity about being rife with dopeurs.

And if you think doping is more widespread in cycling than other sports, you’ve got blinders on. Cyclists even make up a small number of the athletes named in the Operacion Puerto files. It’s just that no other sport has admitted that doping exists, nor tried to combat it as aggressively.

The lead-up to this year’s Tour was how wide open the race would be in the absence of Lance Armstrong’s dominant presence. But despite that, there were a half dozen obvious candidates to win, and a couple dozen who might broach the top ten.

Then came the evictions: Jan Ullrich, Ivan Basso, Alexandre Vinokurov, Francesco Mancebo… all of whom were leading podium candidates. Suddenly, all those former top-ten candidates are now battling it out for podium placement, and the race for a top ten spot is a complete free-for-all. The opportunity is there for the taking for a bunch of riders who never expected it, and it’ll be fascinating to see who is going to step up to the challenge.

Personally, I’d like to see good performances from a few riders. David Moncoutie is one of France’s few young riders with legitimate aspirations, and he’s someone who rabidly avoids doping, so it’d be nice to see him do well. Iban Mayo, after the brilliance of his 2003 debut, flamed out, and I’d love to see him return to the form he’s capable of. And David Millar, who admitted to EPO use, has served a two-year ban which expired mere days before this year’s Tour began. I’ll be interested to see how he fares in his return to competition.

And, of course, Operacion Puerto will play out over time. Hopefully it will be another step toward cleansing cycling—and other sports—of cheating, deception, and self-abuse in the name of performance.