To suffer is the currency of racing, by JV

To suffer is the currency of racing
Author: Jonathan Vaughters

Apr 24, 2008

Sometimes its best to just not think when you’re part of the cycling world. Because when you really think about what cycling is, you realize it’s….unthinkable.

I suppose this all became real to me in 2004, when a young rider named Craig Lewis hit the side of a car, full speed, in a time trial at the Tour de Georgia. Right there, it really sunk in, how cruel cycling is. I never seemed to think of this as a rider. As a rider, I just rode. I raced, I trained, I crashed, I went to hospitals, whatever…It was just part of any old season. If you wanted to race in front, there were risks you had to take to be there.

If you didn’t want to take those risks, then there was a place on page 4 of the results waiting for you. That simple.

I never thought twice about it and wondered why so many people seemed so upset when I hit my head on the pavement and woke up in the hospital a bit later. No biggie.

But that day with Craig… waiting as as he went in and out of consciousness with tubes inserted in every part of his body. That day, I realized this sport is not a sport at all, but something much more gritty and brutal. Professional cycling is defined as an unreasonable pursuit of the limits and boundaries of the human body and spirit. “Sport” describes soccer or cricket…Professional cycling is elsewhere in the dictionary.

Now, I was on the other side, witnessing a young man’s life hang in the balance, a young man’s dreams crushed. All because he was unwilling to let simple thinking get in the way of risking everything to be the best.

It really hurt me. It hurt me to realize how invested a professional cyclist is in his passion, a passion turned profession. It’s just not logical or right that someone chooses misery and pain, just for the love of pushing back barriers, trying to find out what “the best” really means. It’s beyond anything I’ll ever know again.

To suffer is the currency of racing. To risk life over and over is just a simple rule of the game. Ever think about jumping out of a car at 55 mph in your underwear? That’s what a crash in professional cycling is. The young riders I’ve seen grow up over the last five years all take this elemental part of racing and accept it over and over again: Crashes are a part of the “game.”

They embrace it. Joke about it.

The difficult part to deal with is that I taught them, as eager young men filled with dreams of Merckx, that this was the stuff of professional cycling. Crashing is a simple part of the life and career they had chosen. I taught them that this was the price of the passion they has chosen to pursue. And that, regrettably, they must choose, every day, to risk physical harm -crashes- for their desire to be the best. It is the price of our sport.

I hate myself for ever having taught them this harsh reality. I hate knowing that I laid the dangers of cycling in front of them and let them choose to go forward. I don’t know if I could let my son make that choice? I would do everything to hide any dangerous passion from him, truth be known.

I feel absolutely responsible for every family member that calls. They all know that their son’s or brother’s or husband’s passion and sheer desire is what separates them from rest of our world. They all know how special Craig or Timmy is. How beautifully odd it is that their son or brother or husband would choose severe suffering and pain in exchange for just a glimpse of glory - a brief moment of knowing your true and absolute potential. How different the choices they make are from the ones the rest of us muddle through, always thinking of safety and security. They know that its no one’s fault. But I don’t think any of that helps much in the long wait to hear if things are going to be OK…or not.

This time things will be OK. Timmy appears to be getting better and his wife and family are with him. A severe concussion and broken bones this time. One of many such stories in cycling this year.

The problem is the race goes on. And for the rest of the riders who must continue on, there is a choice to be made. An unthinkable choice. And as soon as you really think about that choice, it’s all over.

JV