Mike Creed intimates how many ex-pro cyclists seek to fill the void of utter physical exhaustion with an activity less time-consuming as riding a bike all day. Nothing can replace that feeling of lying near comatose in bed at night he reckons, knowing that one has left every ounce of physical and mental strength out on road.
Creed says that he is addicted to exercise and aside from his daily running and occasional cycling excursions muses that something like CrossFit appeals to him in a sense of going "deep" with time constraints.
Unfathomable or difficult to understand for some but that is often the reality of professional sporting retirees, a sense of emptiness at never again feeling that pain and going deep into the body's reserves.
The mind can often drive the body beyond the preconceived limits and it takes a special kind of person to be able to "go to the well." The prolific Simon Lessing would often dry-heave upon crossing the finish line dominant in another time zone to his competition. This sort of depth is almost a requirement in many professional sports - especially those of the endurance variety - to pay the bills. Personal pride aside, the realities and pressure of elite sport can promote a mindset where such physical distress is alluring, appealing and even addictive.
In a previous post I questioned whether, as athletes, our lifestyles are injuring us purely in a structural sense. But physical wear and tear is one thing; what about the emotional or mental aspects?
How can we as recreational athletes maintain and satisfy our competitive impulses whilst retaining an optimal semblance of lifestyle and health balance?
I was reminded of this whilst working at an ocean paddling event recently. Known as surf-skiing here in the Southern Hemisphere, this watersport tends to attract tough and hardy folk, not afraid to push the limits at sea but also knowing how to have fun and enjoy life.
My first treatment was that of a legendary figure in the sport. Now in his fifties, this guy has done it all and continues to defy conventional thought by dominating arduous long distance paddling events around the world. I get massage three times a week he said, before asking if I thought taking an NSAID before having a few beers to help relax his muscles in order to play golf the next day would be a good idea. It's up to you I replied, unsure whether I should be judgmental or merely interested in his reasoning.
Later on I saw another "legend" milling around the finish area, somebody I consider a "real athlete." A similar age to the other guy and of the same era, this legend is just as competitive and has been his whole life over a myriad of endurance sports. His younger days were that of an elite athlete; regular sub-2hr30min marathons and gold medals in major paddling and ultra distance triathlon events, a true "ironman" in old-school South African terms. He still competes at a high level over a similar range of sports dividing his year up between paddling, mountain biking and trail running, which he reckons protects his body and mind from getting beaten up and stale in any one discipline.
Both of these guys are among the most competitive people I've come across in sports; you can see it in their eyes and general demeanour. Some might think they are holding on to their past glories by continuing to compete at such an intensity in their fifties but sport and competition play a large role in their personalities and lifestyle; it defines them and they would be lost without it.
On the flip side are some retired pro-cyclists who have gone the other way, abandoning their bikes cold turkey and partaking in no form physical activity at all. Many are still in the cycling industry but one could be forgiven for mistaking them as lifelong couch potatoes given their expansive girth and habits. Some seem mentally scarred from their cycling careers, almost gun shy of even getting on a bike. I was chatting with a former elite rider at a major event recently. He is a self-employed bike mechanic but hasn't ridden in years. What he puts in he gets out and he works late into the night at most mountain bike stage races here in South Africa. I achieved what I wanted to and have other interests he said, while lighting up another Malboro. If I were to ride I want to do it to the best of my ability he continued, but have other interests and besides - I'm "gatvol" of relying on sponsors to make a living.
So what does this all mean?
Maybe that we as amateurs should not compare ourselves to professional athletes. I doubt that many of us could relate or even understand the mindset and reasoning of the above examples, be it the still-competitive or the now-sedentary. And how can we? Sport might be sport but we all do it for differing reasons.
That said, there could be some common ground out there.
Michael Creed is riding his bike again. Nine months after retiring from the pro ranks is the amount of time he estimates that he actually felt the urge to get out pedal after a prolonged layoff. I'm riding slowly but it is so cool he said, purely for enjoyment and for the sake of cycling.
And apparently some former seven time Tour winner won a long distance trail race the other day.
Different folks, different strokes.
