Thursday 14 July 2016. If you are a cycling fan, a day that will be etched in one’s memory as the day Chris Froome fell, ran and rode up Mont Ventoux. Only a day earlier the Nairobi-born Brit had thrown down the gauntlet in the crosswinds of Montpellier, compounding his critics intimating him as boring with a display of brute strength on a stage usually reserved for the sprinters. I’m just enjoying my racing, he said, in the aftermath of the echelon-havoc. So it was with some surprise to witness Froome’s – and the peloton’s – vulnerability the very next day. As the road veered up the “Bald Mountain,” the Kenyan-South African-Pom was striding out in hard cycling shoes sans-steed, and with not a little panic.
Watching the ensuing drama/fracas/mayhem on delayed highlights that night, a lightbulb went on in my head: “Christopher could potentially strain his soleus muscles and even tear an Achilles. I need to write him – and his caring staff - a letter.” And so began my “Dear Rider” letters via Twitter, aimed mainly at the African riders but with a couple of other blokes in there too. A mix of humour and sound therapeutic principles was my motivation: not too serious but not too risqué either.
Dear Chris
Much was made of Chris Froome’s bike-run-bike up Mont Ventoux. Jokes abound regarding his Kenyan roots (they all run to school don’t they?) and suggesting that he take up triathlon. Speaking of which, not too many cyclists run in cycling shoes, or at all for that matter. Cyclo-cross and mountain bike racers aside, professional road cyclists are generally not conditioned for weight-bearing activity. In fact, walking further than the fridge can be an effort. Hence my late-night concerns over his lower extremities, the soleus muscle and Achilles’ tendon in particular. Needless to say I slept well post-scribble.
Dear Adam
Adam Yates picked up some flak in the media for his penchant of sitting at the back of the peloton on the flat stages. But what do “they” know anyway, right? The textbook might say this is a “no-no” but then not everybody is a robot. Marino Lejarreta wasn’t. The Basque rider was a much revered quantity in the peloton of the 80s and early 90s. The original “three-Grand Tours-per-season” guy, Lejarreta was also famous for his actual defence of last position in the bunch. His reasoning: “It is a fantastic feeling passing riders at speed when the road goes uphill.” The Basque athletes are known for their idiosyncrasies and the former ONCE rider was no exception. A conformist he was not and it appears that neither is Yates.
Daryl Impey is instantly recognizable in a breakaway. His trademark rocking riding style may not follow the textbook either but then who really cares? The Orica-Bike Exchange rider delivers at that is all that counts. Watching him on during the time trial stage to La Caverne du Pont-d'Arc, I couldn’t help but note the closed hip angle and narrower shoulder spread of the “funny-bike” position. I’ll get flak for this but I wince every time I see a weekend-warrior curled up on a low-profile TT machine; an anatomical mess and one that injures more than any aerodynamic gain, not to mention a waste of money. But I digress. Not Impey though: pro riders know how to ride the steeper bikes but he definitely needed some work on his trapezius and tensor fascia latae areas. Orica and South Africa need him loose and supple, they – and we – really do.
Dear Louis
Louis Motors. He certainly has in this Tour, what with a seventh overall placing (or was a tied-eighth?) on General Classification. The “Passeggiata” may be defined as an evening stroll after work hours by the residents of a town, but is also apparently a tradition in Italian pro teams. The Sphynx position is the brainchild of Dr. Lawrence Van Lingen, a South African chiropractor resident in Southern California. Possibly the best posture-resetting exercise, Meintjes needed to learn of this therapeutic jewel, Bush Telegraph and all. Same with a fore-elevated indoor trainer setup: you don’t need fancy things in this age of marginal gains (read: cliché overload). Sometimes a phone book will do.
Dear Adam H.
The modern day version of Lejarreta as far as consecutive Grand Tours goes (fifteen on the trot now), Adam Hansen certainly does not sit at the back of the bunch on the flat stages; Lotto-Soudal simply don’t pay for that. Hansen is one of André Greipel’s bodyguard-on-wheels and, along with the likes of Greg Henderson and Lars Bak, is there to ensure the muscular German’s continues success as a prolific sprinter. But it doesn’t end there. The former programmer has other hobbies and business interests outside of the sport, such as property investment, a clothing and shoes brand, not to mention his IT capabilities via software development for Belgian team. He also takes complete breaks after stage races, walking, working and recovering in the small Czech village of Frydlant nad Ostravici. With this in mind Hansen’s body needs a panel beating, what with the end of Le Tour and the Vuelta on the horizon. Sitting on bike and sitting in front of a computer? Rather Sphynx or stand or move.
But then Scooter Boy would already know that.
