The Public Has Spoken: No Yellow for Armstrong in 2010

Poll results are in! (See upper right corner of page.) Just to prove how wildly popular Velophoria is, we actually topped our previous number of poll participants, with a grand total of 13. I think the VeloNews people are starting to feel the heat, don't you? Probably thinking about firing their marketing guy about now.

Of course, some of the voters were twisted enough to go for my noise-filter question. No, Neil Armstrong has not been pondering a Michael Jordan-style comeback, slinging his leg over a Trek at age 79 and trying to ride his way into the history books for a second time. But I really do savor the perversity of Velophoriacs: Four of them voted for that. It's you guys that keep me a little bit twisted, y'know? Chapeau!

If we parse for the noise question, the popular opinion here in Velophoria-land is that Lance Armstrong could be wearing yellow in Paris in 2010 -- but also that it ain't likely. I have to say, I learned from the folks who voted that way; I originally voted "No way," because I couldn't shake the picture of Armstrong staring in exhausted despair at Alberto Contador's skinny butt disappearing over Verbier last month. Also, his dejected admission after the stage that AC was now The Man on Astana -- that no one could touch him. (He was obviously right. Armstrong can still sniff out the shifting truth of a race faster than almost anyone.)

On reflection, I have to admit that anything is possible, even a 38-year-old winning the toughest road race in the world. Racer Rob reminded me after this year's Tour that LA had a significant layoff in the spring due to his first-ever broken clavicle, and that, next year, he'll have much more real training and racing in his legs by July. This is all true.

But I still underscore the "long-shot" in the phrasing of that poll question. Next year, Armstrong will be a year older, and he looked none too young this year. The Schlecks will still be striplings, but this time with an extra year of experience behind them and a fresh commitment to breaking into yellow. And Contador will just be entering his prime (hard to believe, given all his palmares) and you can bet that his fiery Latin temperament won't have forgotten the catfights with LA during this year's race. He'll be gunning for El Brazo Fuerte.

* * *

When Jordan himself returned to basketball after that ill-advised, can't-hit-the-curveball fiasco in the minor leagues, he was -- no surprise -- still a great asset to his team, and still fun to watch. But that electric sense that anything was possible at any time was long gone. You no longer expected him to casually toss off at least one anti-Newtonian miracle per game. His godhood had run its course, but instead of retiring to the pantheon and quaffing mead with Aries and Thor, he took the harder road -- the hard fall to Earth and the feet of clay with which we all stumble along here in the land of gravity and time.

Feel about it how you may, I think we can expect about the same from now on from Armstrong. Personally, I like him just a little better now that he can't pretend his chamois doesn't stink like everyone else's.

"The Guys I Know Are Racing Like It's May."

Did you read Armstrong officially handing team support for the ToC to Levi?

I'm not putting any money on him holding back if Levi shows the slightest weakness. And it's pretty obvious that by handing Leipheimer the ToC, Armstrong's leaving the door wide open to take the lead for one of the grander tours. He can rely on the media to point out how generous he was in February if he finds he's fit enough to try to ride Levi into the ground in May or July. Will he do the same with Contador, handing him the Giro or the Vuelta, and then forget all about both of them on Alpe d'Huez?

But... okay. Okay!!! I will admit that he's being something like gracious here, and even kind of fun to talk to. He really does love this stuff. He's got a good side.

There I said it.

And while I don't take back any of my reservations about him, I will also confess he's acting like a grown-up this time around. So far. It's only February.

(Just for the record: I'm all in favor of honest competition, and wish Armstrong the best. What would anger me would be him using his star power to push aside Levi and Contador, who between them were already one champion too many for one team. If he's going to do that, he should have joined -- or started -- another team. That's all. )

Weakstrong

Armstrong’s drug-testing program scrapped. (AP)

Hmmm.

Levi Speaks Up

Velophoriacs already know I'm a big fan of Levi Leipheimer and what I only half-jokingly refer to as "his race," the Tour of California (about to start this Sunday! You can view it online for free here with pretty good Tour Tracker software). There was nice interview with him and Alberto Contador about being teammates with Lance Armstrong, and about LA's chances in the ToC. Leipheimer does a good job of saying "I think I can take this race" without actually offending anyone. Contador takes a similarly tactful approach.

It becomes increasingly apparent to me that Armstrong was wedged into the Astana team with a crowbar -- one jointly forged by him and director sportif Johan Bruyneel.

Flyin' My Levi Flag

I've held forth from this bully pulpit before on the merits of high-achieving athletes who also exemplify personal qualities I admire, and Levi Leipheimer is tops on my list of such cyclists. Yesterday, I read on VeloNews.com some interesting comments about the hyper-exposure of Lance Armstrong's return and the general under-selling of Levi. I was inspired to second the motion on both counts, and fired off a quick email. Lo and behold, I open the letters section today, and there is my note, second from the top (edited by the publisher, but not too much the worse for wear).

BTW, in the spirit of full confession, I have to follow up on my piece about my mixed feelings for Armstrong. I watched the final stage of the Tour Down Under on Versus.com, and I will admit that I got pretty excited when Armstrong came out of the pack to bridge the gap to the tete de la course. It was great fun -- the "old guy" (eight years my junior, but you know what I mean) still has some fuel in the boosters. I loved seeing the young bucks doing double-takes over their shoulder; it was so clear what they were thinking. "Holy ----, I'm in a break with Lance Friggin' Armstrong!!!" And also, "Oh, crap-- He really does still have the legs!!"

Alright, alright -- I said right along that he was arguably the most talented (re-)active cyclist out there, but because I returned to cycling after decades away, I missed the chance to see him ride during his peak. So I failed to mention one other very important thing about him: He's electrifying to watch. I've often compared him (in many ways) to Michael Jordan, and, after watching him do his stuff, I have to say, I'm sticking with that comparison. You couldn't take your eyes off Jordan, and you'd better not take 'em off Armstrong.

But I'll still be rooting for Levi.

Hands Off

Yeah, yeah, yeah: Riding rollers is boring. Right. I've been complaining about it since November.

But today, I'm not complaining. In fact, I'm stoked.

Because today, I did 2 x 30 sec on the rollers.... NO HANDS.

That's right, Velophoriacs.You read right. (Buffing fingernails on shirtfront.) Rollers with no hands, for half a minute -- twice. I could have gone a lot longer, but I was doing intervals today and didn't want to mess with my heart rate. I did, however, whoop with joy. I know people who've been cycling for decades and still can't take one hand off the bars while on rollers.

I hope you won't think less of me for bragging. Given that my training and racing plans have been sabotaged lately by a cold, the miserable weather, and general life stress, I kinda feel like celebrating this little triumph. I'm not sayin' I'm a "hard man," or equating myself with a pro cyclist. I'm just sayin' I can now do one thing that those people do. Which is cool!

I guess it's the old "Look ma, no hands!"

I once saw a video of Lance Armstrong taking his jacket off while on the rollers. It looked disgustingly easy for him, so commonplace that he didn't even bother to try looking casual about it. And I thought, "Well, I'll never do that." Today, it doesn't look so far off.

Now I call that a souplesse surplus.

The Unpopular Opinion

Well, I've held off writing about the topic of this month's poll (see upper portion of right-hand column) for too long. There are reasons I've been hesitating. Mainly, I don't want to lose any readers.

I appreciate all those who took part. I'm glad to know you guys are optimistic about Lance Armstrong's return to the upper reaches of the sport.

Ahem. I was the one negative vote.

I'm somewhat loath to admit this now, after the rest of you voted in favor. So, let me try to explain myself. I tried this once before, but trashed the draft of the post before it ever saw daylight. It was full of meanderings and justifications. I also don't want to sound like a curmudgeon.

So, I warmly welcome dissenting opinions in your comments on this post. Okay? Okay. Here we go.

Simply put, I feel two ways about Armstrong. On the positive side, there is no doubt about a few important facts:

1) In his Tour de France years, he did for the sport what Babe Ruth did for baseball, or, to choose a more recent and perhaps more apt example, Michael Jordan for basketball. Today, the most casual sports fan or newspaper reader knows what the Tour de France is. When neighbors see me in my kit headed out for a ride, they joke about me being (or maybe trying to be) the local Armstrong. Greg Lemond achieved something like this, but let's be honest; Armstrong is much more famous than Lemond was.

2) Armstrong is undeniably one of the most talented cyclists of his generation -- possibly the most talented. I don't need to recap his accomplishments here; if you're reading this blog, you know. I have one word which more or less makes the point: Seven.

3) He's done almost as much for the cause of cancer as he has for cycling. Laudable and very helpful to people with real problems. (At least I assume it is -- I don't know much about the Lance Armstrong Foundation's inner workings.)

4) His ferocity of focus and desire can be very inspirational. His victory over cancer, and subsequent rise to glory, were extremely impressive, and to a great degree, attributable to that ferocity.

Okay. Those are some very, very strong points. Now, here's the stuff I don't like. Let me start by saying that every one of these is far more a matter of opinion than any of the points listed above. Also, I don't know the man personally, and I might feel differently if I did. This is simply my take:

1) He's got an ego the size of Everest. He is supremely self-involved. Everything he does smacks of self-promotion. Sadly, that extends to his charity, too. (For example, it allows him to make one of the most publicized comebacks in sports history while wearing a jersey bearing, in oversize letters, the name of his own charity -- not that of his team. The jersey, not coincidentally, incorporates his own name: Livestrong. Every photo I've seen of him riding with the team in the last few months has featured that jersey. Yet, he can't be criticized for this, because he's "doing it all for the cancer victims." Except when he says that he is in it to win the races. He's got it wired every which way. This is but one of many, many examples.)

2) He's an outstanding example of the lamentable American fixation on winning. He has an "All or nothing" attitude that is at the heart of a lot of serious dysfunction (both personal and global) in our society. You're either a hero... or a zero. You either give every ounce of energy and moment of your time to a goal, or you might as well quit now. You're either my unwavering ally, or my mortal enemy. We mental health professionals spend our time helping people work their way out of these these polarizing and damaging ways of thinking. (Please note that I am not saying that Armstrong has a mental health problem; I'm saying his attitude, held up as an wonderful example to us all, can be damaging.)


So, in my view, Armstrong is a dynamo that generates lots of good, and lots of bad. I guess where you come out on him just depends which one you give more weight to. I do think his return will re-inject some positive interest into road racing, which could use all it can get.

That's just not enough.

I confess that I'm very demanding of my heroes. I work with children and teens for a living, the everyday variety who are struggling under poor, neglectful parents, insufficient schools, and the wearying effects of trying to decide who they will become in a society that gives them but a few unappetizing choices. If someone's going to go gliding like an Adonis through the glossy TV ads they unconsciously soak up every day, it damn well better be someone who is worth emulating in every way.

I, too, need role models who get me through the daily drag with a spark of hope, of courage, of fire in the belly. Not people I can use like an action figure toy, to fantasize ruling my little corner of the world. Folks who do what I love to do, but in a stunning, inspiring way. And, who manage to successfully navigate the difficult, swampy business we call life and maintain their integrity, and their kindness.

So that's a lot, right? They have to be more than just gifted and fierce. They have to be transparently good people, from the inside out.

They're out there. (In fact, I met one of them.) There are lots of them -- many more, in fact, than the bigshots. Most of them aren't as well known, because, usually, you can't be that good a person and rise all the way to the top of a field in which thousands are trying to cut you down. But it's okay with me that my heroes are number three, or 27, in the world. They're still incredibly talented and a joy to watch when they do their thing -- and when they stop, and talk to the media, you can tell: They prefer to win, but really, they're doing this because it embodies goodness for them. Not because of the demons snapping at their heels, not for the joy of being the best, not to prove they are better than someone else.

May I be blessed with a fraction of that grace in any part of my life. And you, too, if that's what you want.

As for Armstrong, I admire his talent. And I wish him peace. It looks to me like he needs it.

It’s All About the Bike

Lately, while riding and pondering (as velosophers are wont to do), I’ve had the phrase, It’s all about the bike jump up at me on a few different occasions. I’m not sure what it means, but it comes to me fiercely, almost like a declaration. In the moment, it makes perfect sense, on a kind of bodily level – I feel it in my muscles and bones. But sitting here hoping to share that insight with you, I’m drawing a blank. So, if you’ll indulge, I’ll try to wend my way back to what it meant during those fervent moments.

Of course, it’s originates with el Señor Armstrong’s famous dictum, “It’s not about the bike.” It’s even the title of one of his books. I haven’t read that volume (or any of his), but I know his philosophy, and I’m guessing he was saying that your performance is more directly related to your level of mental focus and the quality of your physical training than to the relatively small differences between a costly bike and a breathtakingly expensive one. “Clarity of mind, singularity of purpose, and faithfulness in execution will trump a few less ounces or a fancy Italian name every time.” Something to that effect, right?

Well, my version – It’s all about the bike – is decidedly not intended to contradict that idea. Generally, I agree with Lance on that subject (if on very little else).

I think the point of It’s all about the bike is instead to point out to myself the apparently obvious fact that I am riding a bike. How lucky I am! And yet, how far I have to go! How much work there is to be done – training, tuning the bike, learning about nutrition and technique. How wonderful it is to have that work ahead of me. And how marvelous it is to have two working legs to move the pedals around today – right this moment. The breeze, rich with the scent of mown grass or pine trees. The sun beating on the skin of my arms. The effort in my body.

In one way of looking at it, I sit on my bike like I sit on my meditation seat. Rain or shine, good mood or bad, I ride. I reach for ideals and goals on the bike, and often learn about myself in the process. If those goals turn out unattainable, I learn about acceptance and flexibility – or, persistence in the face of obstacles. If it turns out I attain a goal, I learn either a) how to thoroughly enjoy the delectable taste of success without latching on to it (because who knows if injury or busy-ness will allow me to achieve this same level tomorrow?), or b) that the goal didn’t fulfill me as I thought it would, life can be bittersweet, and I need to re-arrange my goals.

And if I can’t ride that day or that week, I’m still in relationship with the bike – wanting to ride. That’s a meditation in itself.

You’ll notice that this approach doesn't mention my training regimen. It’s not about the numbers my cyclocomputer spits back at me after a ride, reducing a vivid, complex experience to a few digits that prove either my worth or worthlessness. It’s not about that lethally cool jersey that all my friends would wet their chamois pads over (if I could afford it). It’s not about whether I look like too much like a Fred and not enough like a racer. It’s not about whether I get dropped by someone I thought I could beat.

I won’t insult you by pretending I don’t care about these things -- some days way too much. But even on those days, some part of me knows they’re not the most important thing.

Not for me, anyway.

For me, It’s all about the bike means just what it says. Perhaps this phrase arose in my consciousness now because I’m finally (mostly) injury-free after nine months of infuriatingly up-and-down recovery from a nagging injury. Perhaps my whole being is simply rejoicing that I can ride pain- and worry-free right now. If you can, too, please -- for crying out loud, please -- remember to enjoy every hour on your bike.

As the great Belgian oracle Eddy Merckx famously quoth, what matters is that you “ride lots.” That man vibrated with hunger for saddle-time; it was his life; it’s been said he was never right with the world unless he was on the bike. For Merckx, as for many of us, it was all about the bike.