Who's Riding the Bike?

Achievements like Cadel Evans' win in the Tour de France inspire both nationalistic fervour and hyperbole.

It's hardly surprising that this is so. Cycling almost three and a half thousand kilometres in three weeks is an extraordinary achievement. To complete such a journey and to win the event takes superb physical ability. To start with, Evans' body's ability to make use of oxygen (VO2 max or aerobic capacity) is apparently the most efficient seen at the Australian Institute of Sport.


Simply having a body which is made for sport isn't enough, of course. Cadel's body has been trained over years both on the road and on the rollers to turn the wheels consistently for hundreds of kilometres a day, day after day.


Doing this year after year is an incredible feat.


Of course, it's not simply about a superbly conditioned body. My own very modest efforts on a bicycle are a reminder of what else is involved. As I struggled awake in the early hours of last Saturday morning, preparing to ride the 40 kilometres with the riding group, I decided sleep was my first priority, so I missed the morning ride.


An internal discussion started up.


'You should get up. You need to build aerobic fitness.'


A counter voice: 'You need sleep. You've been missing too much sleep.'


'You're just lazy! What are you planning to do? Sink into graceless old age?'


'It's winter. It's cold. Be sensible.'


And so on.


I wonder if Cadel's internal dialogue is anything like mine. Does he ever wake up ahead of a day of riding and decide he'd rather spend the time in bed? Surely he must. I would bet there's a part of him which says: 'You deserve a break. You can take the day off.'


Presumably he gives in to that voice far more rarely than I do.


Perhaps he has a critical part sending him negative messages. After all, he has had his share of disappointments in cycling, as well as triumphs. For most people, less-than-great performances lead to negative messages from our inner critic. Some of his defeats would be enough to stop most of us trying again.To achieve what he has, his journey must have included the ability to master the negative effects of this voice.


And what part of him - what voice - does he call on when his legs are burning from the effort? When the mountain stages make the legs long for respite? At these moments, who is making the decision to push on? Who is really riding the bike?


We would have to imagine that it is some part which simply refuses to give up. It must be this voice which plays its part and drives him through the many thousands of kilometres in training and in racing.


We are at our best when we are able to understand and manage the parts of us which allow us to achieve our goals.


Next morning training session I'll have a word with the part of me that would prefer to stay in bed. I'm sure I can bring the committed bike rider in me to the fore.