Doping
As far as pro cycling goes, any expectations
I had for clean competition were dropped long ago. While I admire several
riders in the pro peloton, I would not be surprised in the least if they were
suddenly exposed as dopers. For the last couple decades, it’s been a major
component of the sport, while the sanctioning bodies looked the other way. The use
of prohibited substances to gain a performance advantage on the bike goes back
to the birth of competitive cycling, and it took a huge bump in the ‘80s and ‘90s
with the introduction and refinement of blood transfusions and EPO. Anyone who
didn’t see what was happening wasn’t looking very hard, or rather was trying
very hard to look the other way. Tyler Hamilton’s new Book, The
Secret Race, pretty much lays out the mindset of professional racers regarding
doping, and makes their actions almost understandable. It was seen as part of
the job. While I can’t say I agree with it, I’ve accepted it.
My thoughts on the subject over the years haven’t been all pure as the driven snow, either. Many times when I’ve been crushed by the competition or unable to recover during a stage race, I’ve idly thought about experimenting a little bit to “level the playing field” with those guys 20+ years my junior who are at their physical peaks. After all, the organizing body of the race series I compete in has no published rules about doping. There’s a lot of readily-available stuff at the local GNC to boost testosterone (for instance), so it’s not really cheating, is it? Those substances are usually specifically prohibited by USADA, but I don’t fall under their jurisdiction. A little tweak here, a little push there, and maybe I can ride off the front of the pack and be where I belong.
The only problem is I don’t belong there.
Less understandable is the more recent
trend of doping in the amateur ranks. I’m not talking about talented young
riders who are looking to join a professional team, but rather amateurs who
have no possibility of ever reaching that level. As the cases of Andrew
Tinlin and many others illustrate, more than few amateur racers will go to
fairly extreme methods just to win a little personal glory and maybe a little
cash, a pair of socks, or a water bottle. Some, like Tinlin, spend over $1000 a
month for this while ignoring the very real health risks. This wasn’t just
accidentally taking the wrong cold medicine or taking a tainted supplement, but
rather intentionally going out of their way to cheat their way to the front of
the pack. They usually justify it by saying that they’re just “leveling the
playing field”, which echoes the sentiment of the pro peloton and fueled the
whole mess we’re faced with today. If you dope because you think that someone
else is doping, chances are someone else is looking at you and doing the same
thing. It never ends, and it defies logic.
My thoughts on the subject over the years haven’t been all pure as the driven snow, either. Many times when I’ve been crushed by the competition or unable to recover during a stage race, I’ve idly thought about experimenting a little bit to “level the playing field” with those guys 20+ years my junior who are at their physical peaks. After all, the organizing body of the race series I compete in has no published rules about doping. There’s a lot of readily-available stuff at the local GNC to boost testosterone (for instance), so it’s not really cheating, is it? Those substances are usually specifically prohibited by USADA, but I don’t fall under their jurisdiction. A little tweak here, a little push there, and maybe I can ride off the front of the pack and be where I belong.
The only problem is I don’t belong there.
In reality, I’m well over 40. I wasted
a good decade by not exercising and eating too much of the worst possible foods.
I only started training “seriously” a couple years ago, far after my body was
already in a natural decline. Mentally I’m still driven to crush souls under my
tires, but physically I’m not always capable of doing so. Even if it’s not
specifically prohibited where I race, using that stuff just isn’t right. At least, to me it isn’t. It’s a question of intent, and in this case
the intent would be to cheat. I like the guys I race with far too much to do
that. Then there are the side effects, which I don’t want to deal with. I’m
losing my hair fast enough as it is and have no desire to cultivate back acne. Mentally
and physically, it just isn’t worth it.
Most of my cycling “heroes” are local.
I won’t embarrass them by naming them, but they run the gamut of ages,
abilities, and sexes. Some I idolize for their sustained excellence, and some
for their dedication and steady progress. Still others I look up to for their positive
outlook and “never say die” attitude. I would probably feel extremely
disappointed if one of them was found to have doped to achieve their results,
perhaps because they’re so close home as opposed to just someone I read about.
They’re real to me, and I’d like it to stay that way. The guys that climb
better than I can usually do so because they weigh far less than I do. The only
one to blame for that is me, because I didn’t put down the fork. The only
problem is that I likes me some bacon.
Mmmmm…
pork fat. If USADA
ever banned that substance I would definitely have to reconsider my position on
doping.
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