Imagine you're 5. You're riding your bike to the shops. Who are you? Marco Pantani? Jan Ulrich? Mark Cavendish? What type of cyclist are you in your dreams?
the sprinter - like Boonen, following a well drilled lead out train to give it all in the final 100m, the stealth sprinter staying cloaked (McEwan-like) finding the gaps before appearing with the element of surprise and nailing everyone, or Cav knowing that you can take anyone's wheel and take anyone in the last 50.
the climber - the grimpeur, majestic in the mountains; dancing on the pedals like Pantani, grindingly unstoppable like Ulrich, or do you spin like Armstong? Lung busting wars of attrition are your scene, watching the opponent for signs of stress before tightening the screw and dropping all those would be
the domestique - ah, the humble servant, the unsung hero, serving the master's needs for little recognition, no mean cyclist in your own right but playing the team role, your morning in the headlines to come courtesy of a breakaway group on an early stage of a GT.
the time trialler - the master of the 'race of truth', the king of 'contre le montre', head down, arse up, funny helmets, big gears and full power for as long as possible.
Which is it?
Me? I aspire to the climbs. My adversary is not a cyclist, it's the winding mountain road and the hairpin corners. I enjoy the momentary relief when the gradient shallows before kicking up again, letting you know it's still game on. And ultimately, the sense of satisfaction as you crest the rise. There's nothing like it for me.
the sprinter - like Boonen, following a well drilled lead out train to give it all in the final 100m, the stealth sprinter staying cloaked (McEwan-like) finding the gaps before appearing with the element of surprise and nailing everyone, or Cav knowing that you can take anyone's wheel and take anyone in the last 50.
the climber - the grimpeur, majestic in the mountains; dancing on the pedals like Pantani, grindingly unstoppable like Ulrich, or do you spin like Armstong? Lung busting wars of attrition are your scene, watching the opponent for signs of stress before tightening the screw and dropping all those would be
the domestique - ah, the humble servant, the unsung hero, serving the master's needs for little recognition, no mean cyclist in your own right but playing the team role, your morning in the headlines to come courtesy of a breakaway group on an early stage of a GT.
the time trialler - the master of the 'race of truth', the king of 'contre le montre', head down, arse up, funny helmets, big gears and full power for as long as possible.
Which is it?
Me? I aspire to the climbs. My adversary is not a cyclist, it's the winding mountain road and the hairpin corners. I enjoy the momentary relief when the gradient shallows before kicking up again, letting you know it's still game on. And ultimately, the sense of satisfaction as you crest the rise. There's nothing like it for me.
- and at 80kg I don't accelerate up hills very often! However, I did the Raid Pyrenean last year quite happily with a 20kg load on the bike and usually do best relative to others when there's a nice headwind to fight or at the top of hills when they arrive knackered
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