I was hooked on racing long before I put my name on a down tube. Lured by the sport’s history in Europe, I found joy in any cycling magazine I could open. Without even knowing that fate would place me in this trade, the needle was in my arm. And stayed.
Say what you will about man’s need for competition. That he needs a challenge. Or validation. For me, the peloton is equal parts classroom, chess board, and research library. From racing, I learned to read situations, hone instincts, and hear my own voice.
When you reach a level when fitness and savvy are in the toolbox, it’s wonderful. A gift. This, assuming you have the competitive gene to begin with. I’ve experienced very little that feels as good as having the race I wanted rather than the one left for me by others.
All This By Hand