Racing Through the Dark

Professional cycling has been in the headlines for all the wrong reasons of late. With the plethora of information now available to the general public and the mainstream media alike, every second person seems to have an expert opinion on doping.

Yet much of the information that has come to light has been out there for over a decade, and many of those “voices in the wilderness” must feel at least slightly vindicated given the USADA documents and subsequent rider affidavits, as well as Tyler Hamilton’s Secret Race.

I’ve just finished reading David Millar’s autobiography Racing Through the Dark, which I can honestly recommend as a “must read” for those truly interested in what really happens behind all the glitz and glamour every July. Yes – the book does tend to paint Millar as a “victim of the system”, but it is his story after all, even if it is a little biased in his favor.

The book outlines Millar’s life from birth to his current status as rider and part-owner of Team Garmin Barracuda, which was the brainchild of Jonathan Vaughters and Doug Ellis back in the mid-2000s. Millar’s amateur career and progression to the professional ranks are probably the most fascinating parts of the book, for me at least. This is probably due my following the lanky Scotsman’s early career through his columns in Cycle Sport magazine, which interestingly co-existed with those of fellow columnist Vaughters. Those monthly columns were often the first thing I would read, before continuing with race coverage and profiles that made up the best cycling magazine since Winning International. Millar and Vaughters’ stories would provide an informative yet fairytale picture of the professional scene, and looking back sounded almost too good to be true.

This is confirmed in Racing Through the Dark, where one gets to find out what really went on during that period of Millar’s life. The difficulties in finding form; the feeling of anger and resentment towards team management; the extend periods of switching off from the outside world – this is a harsh reality check compared to what we read in those magazines.

A disturbing theme in the book is the grey area that exists between performance enhancing and recreational drug use. This is an often unheralded subject in all professional sports and I’m surprised that more has not been made of this phenomenon; it is certainly worth an in-depth study. Millar’s tales of sleeping pill-and-alcohol-fueled parties and of teammates experiencing hallucinations while “panic-training” on amphetamines are both interesting and really sad at the same time. It could also bring more understanding to the general cycling fan of the equally understated phenomenon of retired professional athletes developing drug addictions, evident by the likes of the late Marco Pantani and the late Jose Maria Jimenez.

One part of the book that I found really uplifting was Millar’s critique of his fellow riders, particularly that of David Moncoutie, who has recently retired after spending his entire career with Cofidis. I remember reading an in-depth feature on Millar in the early 2000s, where he almost scoffed at Moncoutie’s humble background and principles, citing this as a reason for his lack of ambition and subsequent results. The 2012 Millar is clearly more mature than back in his “dandy days”, and paints an admiring picture of his former teammate, even describing him as a hippie with a passion for cartography.

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Another rider he describes is Eric Frutoso, an older team mate at his amateur club who is almost an “anti-cyclist”. Upon learning that Frutoso has turned down several offers to turn pro, Millar is astounded by his explanation that “that is not cycling”. Added to the fact that Frutoso scoffs at Millar’s scientific training programme and ensures that the young Scot is shielded from the doping prevalent in the amateur ranks, it is hard not to admire the guy for his ideology even if it is not that pratical.

Overall a great read, although Millar’s commentary does come across as a rather “poor little me” at times. But that is to be expected. His emergence into a more mature rider and person overall is evident, given his difficult upbringing and the almost stifling peer pressure he is put under in his formative years as a pro rider.