Losing the love

Thursday morning, the doorbell rings. It’s a friend, asking me if I’m going out for a spin. Admittedly, I’m just out of bed, I don’t really “do mornings” and I have a few bits of work to catch up on. I’ve to do the school run and the dog really needs to be let out, as she can’t hold her bladder any longer. All this before any coffee enters my system, so cycling isn’t really very high on my list of priorities.

I’m having a bad start to 2018. My form is struggling, the weather is awful, enthusiasm is on the wane, but the biggest concern for me, is losing the love for the sport of cycling. Over Christmas, I picked up a bad flu from the cold, recently I suffered a heavy crash, where my head literally bounced off the road. For a skinny, miserable looking git, I actually have to watch my weight, which defies all logic at my age. I’m not going to win anything and while I’m doing the Wicklow 200 in a few months time, if I get around the course in 7 hours or 7 days, it’s the same end result, nothing. Hardly the most motivational speech, you the reader will ever enjoy.

Last year was a year to remember for me, as I completed every challenge I set myself and ticked every box. The obvious highlight of the year was Aquablue Sport, going out of their way to present me with one of their bikes and making it a day to remember.  The added bonus of meeting Martyn Irvine and finding him to be one of the nicest people I’ve ever met was the icing on the cake. Despite what the critics say, the Gran Fondo in Belfast was a superb experience and the Sean Kelly Tour, despite monsoon like conditions and a dreadful headwind, is always the highlight.

My abiding memory of 2017 is the Kelly Tour and it occurred as we faced onto Tickincor, possibly the hardest hill in Munster. Everybody was soaked, cold, tired and scared of the hill. There was a small little child there with his parents, cheering everybody on. One of the unwritten rules of the sport for me is to always acknowledge somebody who stands on the side of the road offering encouragement. I wonder how many people crested “The Pot” with the words of that little child still ringing in their ears, I know I did.

There is nothing like arriving back in Dungarvan, broken both emotionally and physically, but as you turn down towards the finish, you hear Eamon on the microphone and you see Martin Power standing there with the chequered flag, you grow a lot in stature.

Sadly, for 2018, there will be no Sean Kelly Tour, which for me is devastating. When I first took up the sport in 2011, the Kelly Tour was my primary focus every year. Everybody has their favourite event and they give the year preparing for it, the Kelly was mine. I graduated from the 100km route, to being one of the tougher types, completing the 160km twice. I wonder could I be considered a “man of the Kelly Tour”. When I heard that there would be no Kelly Tour this year, I was simply devastated, as nothing can compare to it.

So, it’s against that backdrop that I’m facing into 2018. A 2017 that can never be repeated, the loss of my favourite event and there’s also the dangers of cycling in Ireland.

Recently, legislation has been passed in Ireland, which makes a minimum safe passing distance of 1.5m the law. If it saves just one life, it will be worth it, because the sensation of a “close pass” when you are on a bike is scary. Some people have been quick to point out that it is unworkable and that it will be impossible to enforce. It’s a typical reaction in Ireland and I’m often amazed at how many people on social media for example, seem to have a better idea of law, than the entire judiciary and our Gardaí put together. It’s very simple and very easily explained and there is no need for some of the nonsense talk about measuring tapes and the like. When you approach a cyclist, just slow down for a moment, make sure you can pass safely and give them a small bit of room. That’s all it is, it’s not rocket science.

Cyclists, on the other hand, can play their part too. Social media feeds are full of cyclists, declaring “their right” to cycle two abreast for example. Is it that big a deal to go single file when the road is narrow, or if there is a big tailback of traffic, pull over and stop, to allow the traffic through? How many average people out training will ever compete in the Rás or the TDF? Answer, none. Yet, the furore goes on between “us and them”, motorists and cyclists, at each other’s throat. I’ve written before about my experience of sitting in a Garda interview room and it wasn’t bloody nice. If you’re a motorist, read it, before you take a chance. Cyclists, cop on or as a good friend of mine told me once, you can have it on your headstone, here lies whoever, “he / she had the right to cycle two abreast”.

It’s for this very reason that I have stopped riding in a group, as I consider it not worth the hassle. I’m tired of listening to two sides constantly at each other’s throats, acting like schoolchildren. A few weeks ago, I cycled through Cork City and was actually ashamed to consider myself a cyclist, when I saw some of the carry on down there. A week or two later, the Gardaí in Cork did a “clamp down” on cyclists, making them aware of their responsibilities on the road. They were slated on social media (as usual) for having the audacity to pick on a “vulnerable group of road users”.  If I was a cop, I think I’d ask why I bother.

One thing I have noticed is how quiet traditional people of the sport stay, while all this nonsense goes on. I know people who have cycling in their blood, who have more ability in their little fingers than newbies like me have in our entire bodies. They stay quiet and I often wonder how they feel as the constant nonsense goes on around them.

As a musician, there is a saying in the business, where you declare to a newbie that “you played music when it was dangerous to do so”. I wonder if people steeped in the traditions of cycling have a similar saying.

I wonder if those people go through the same loss of interest or enthusiasm. I wonder if they ever lose the love.