Tour de France: Not Just a Test Of Physical Toughness

There has been a lot of critical material written about professional cycling, particularly with reference to the use of performance-enhancing drugs. Many writers, myself included, have made the contention that cycling is beyond hope and should be watched as a science experiment rather than a serious sporting spectacle.

The ongoing ramblings of Floyd Landis do little to shift the attention away from the unfortunate side of the sport.

While these arguments have some merit, one thing that can never be disputed is the courage of the participants. Whether or not they are chemically modified becomes irrelevant when it comes to taking on some of the roads presented in the toughest bike race on earth – the Tour de France.

I would think twice before taking on some of the routes in a car. There is almost no room for error and when an error is made it can often be catastrophic.

Anyone who watches the Tour remembers John Lee Augustyn’s 2008 crash where he hit the crash barrier on the descent of Col de la Bonette-Restefond and slid 20 metres down the bare mountain slopes before he could stop himself. His bike continued unimpeded down the hill and into the ravine.

Though he may not have thought so at the time, Augustyn was lucky. Many riders have suffered severe injuries or even lost their life on those perilous descents.

Even the flat stages are treacherous. When riding in a bunch of almost 200 cyclists, any mistake is going to trigger a domino effect and separate a lot of skin from arms, legs and buttocks. Occasionally, these spills result in broken bones. This was the case with Australian rider Adam Hansen.

Hansen suffered a broken collarbone—a frequent injury for cyclists—in the opening minutes of the race, but got back on to not only complete the stage, but to lead the pack and set the pace for sprinter and teammate, Mark Cavendish (it was all to no avail after Cavendish himself crashed).

During the first stage of the 2007 Tour, sprinter Robbie McEwen was forced to brake to avoid a collision with slower riders ahead and was slammed into from behind, sending him over the handlebars, injuring his wrist and knee. He recovered, with help from his teammates, and went on to work his way back through the peleton for a stage victory.

In the heat of a stage, getting back on the bike and continuing is impressive, but it is the next day where the raw courage shines through. Nursing those injuries and forcing yourself to get back on the bike, realising that there is over 3,000km to the end of the race, must take superhuman mental strength and personal valour.

For raw courage, the gold medal has to go to Oscar Freire. He rode most of the 2007 Tour with a buttock cyst, requiring frequent medical attention.

The mental strength required to complete a pro cycling race is every bit as important as the physical ability. Just riding the distances that they do in the hot conditions sets professional cyclists apart from everyone else. Yes, performance enhancing drugs can help with preparation and physical ability. However, the mental ability to push through the pain barrier cannot be helped by drugs.

It is this factor that makes the Tour de France such a compelling spectator sport. Sometimes we forget this rather fundamental truth in our race to condemn the cheating riders. Don't let the fact that they shave their legs fool you. These riders are amongst the toughest people on the planet and every now and then we should doff our cap and just acknowledge their feats. They’ve earned that at the very least.

Besides, if they cheat, we can always let them know about it later.

(Photo courtesy of SBS.com.au)