Rest Day
What does one do on a rest day? Sleep, for one. Then eat, run, and write. Sometime this afternoon Floyd is holding a press conference at his hotel, and I'll be there (it's the Kyriad Hotel in Gap, if you're in the neighborhood). In the meantime, life doesn't get more elemental. Austin and I got rooms in Les Orres, a ski town forty miles outside Gap. Driving up the mountain in the dark, we weren't sure what we were getting ourselves into, because the road wound through miles and miles of utter darkness before emerging into the lights of this small town (there's a metaphor for life in there somewhere).
As if entering some Dante-esque absurdity, the first two cars I saw in the parking lot had ten-foot-high red devils on top. Then there was the car with the pizza, and the coffee pots, and the giant pretzels. We had found the Tour's publicity caravan. Like carny geeks, the caravan employees cluttered the hotel's downstairs bar, glad to be rid of their absurd little vehicles for a whole day. From the look of things as I was checking in, I can tell you that those caravan folks party very, very hard when the day is done. I guess driving around France with a giant red devil looking over your shoulder will do that to you.
I needed a long trail run in the worst way. Those riverfront runs that have become a staple of the Tour are all well and good, but at some point I need to lose myself in a dense woods.
This hotel, L'Ancolie, sits directly at the bottom of the mountain. In the winter I would be able to ski from the lobby to the lifts. Likewise, finding a solitary trail was as simple as taking the elevator down and stepping outside. I ran up and up and up, slow and steady, traversing back and forth across the slope on service roads and singletrack, past herds of bell-wearing dairy cows (we exchanged moo's. It was all very Dr. Phil, and I felt like I bonded in particular with a small brown cow that couldn't decide whether to charge me or let me pass. She kept chewing on a mouthful of grass as I trotted by, but never took a wary eye off of me).
It is sobering, and somewhat splendid, to run up a mountainside until the legs scream that they cannot go any higher, feeling very full of myself, and then look even higher up the mountain and see an eighty-year old man walking down from the summit. He was my reminder to push harder and dig a little deeper (that Kate Miner song "Take Me Higher" began a continuous loop in my head). The old man wished me well as we passed. "Bon journee," I replied, hoping his hike down was a safe one.
So that's how the mind works. You push to a point where stopping feels like the only option, and then when something urges you to push past it, something inside is set free. I began composing this missive as I ran, thinking of what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it, writing entire sentences in my head, and then editing them, knowing all the while that I would forget the actual words when the run was done, and remember only the broad topics.
Take, for instance, books. I was thinking about my Tour book, CHASING LANCE, which is a book very much like these columns, about following the Tour and being in France. It is not a book about Lance per se, I must point out rather honestly, but a book about Austin and I and the Sideways-style jaunt we have taken these many years through the Gallic world. Lance, as you'll see when you get a chance to read it, is someone we spend time with and whose race we dissect, but in the end, Lance is a metaphor for the greatness that lives within us all, and which we struggle on a daily basis to bring forth in our own lives.
Man, it felt good to get that explanation out there. Not everyone needs to be filled in on the subtleties of a book. But apparently, after reading some of the knucklehead reviews on Amazon from those two or three people who will only read a Tour book if it's a Lance hagiography, some sort of Cliff's Notes was in order. I could tell you what he eats for breakfast, explain the sort of gearing in which he rides the mountains, and offer a few behind-the-scenes takes on Lance and Sheryl at the Tour, but that's all been done.
So buy my book and let me know what you think. That's my naked, shameless plug on this rest day. It's on Amazon and it's out there in the stores. And when you're finished, write and tell me how you liked it. The email link on this site is always good, and I enjoy the feedback, for better and worse.
Editor's note: You can purchase Chasing Lance here as Martin is much too humble to place his own sales promo within this blog. Aplogy for the blatant commercialism here but for those of you that appreciate this blog, you'll really enjoy Chasing Lance.
On the topic of books, I'm asked a lot about my take on the Coyle book. I have to say that I intentionally avoided reading it until after my book was finished, because I didn't want any cross-pollination. I finally read it cover to cover during a trip to Italy in May, and enjoyed it very much. The reporting was excellent and I admired the commitment of moving his entire family to Spain in order to immerse himself in Lance's world. As a writer, my only quibble would be those random moments when he loses his own voice, which is most appealing, and slips into Outside magazine's trademark (and distracting) smarty-pants, we-know-more-than-you voice that makes every one of their stories sound the same and makes the magazine virtually unreadable. On the whole, that's a minor criticism, involving just a few chapters. It's a good book.
Onward. As much as I like Les Orres, I'm already feeling like it's a mistake to linger here. Tomorrow is the L'Alpe D'Huez. As I write, I am sitting on my hotel balcony looking far across a broad valley at hulking gray Alpine peaks. Toward its right shoulder is an invisible line delineating the Italian border. But straight over the top as the eagle flies, and then down the other side, lies the base of L'Alpe d'Huez, where thousands upon thousands of fans are already setting up tents and campers and riding their bikes up the famous switchback. Austin and I have lodging at the top of the mountain, but to get there we need to push the Volvo through that sea of humanity. It's a traffic jam of epic proportions now, but it's only going to be worse tomorrow. Something inside of me thinks it's very important to be there as soon as possible.
As I wrote yesterday, the next three stages of this Tour are crucial. Tomorrow will be the first of those challenges, and one of the top riders is going to tumble down hard in the rankings. Floyd Landis could be in trouble because his team is weak, and the same goes for Cadel Evans. Watch for Denis Menchov's Rabobank teams to send Mickael Rasmussen and Michael Boogerd on exploratory breakaways designed to probe for weakness in Floyd Landis and other top riders the way that advance military patrols probe enemy lines for a soft spot in which to attack.
If you only watch one stage of this year's Tour, watch that L'Alpe D'Huez climb tomorrow. I've ridden that road before, and it's impossibly steep. Someone's just going to off on that thing tomorrow, and someone's going to implode. Meanwhile, the crowds along the road will be spitting on the riders, pressing right up next to them, throwing beer on them, waving flags in their faces -- the European version of Raider Nation, right down to the face paint.
Which reminds me, I still haven't run alongside one of the riders yet. Stay tuned. I need to do this, even if it makes me look like an utter moron.
If Floyd says anything interesting in the press conference I'll pass it along. Otherwise, I'll talk to you tomorrow.
As if entering some Dante-esque absurdity, the first two cars I saw in the parking lot had ten-foot-high red devils on top. Then there was the car with the pizza, and the coffee pots, and the giant pretzels. We had found the Tour's publicity caravan. Like carny geeks, the caravan employees cluttered the hotel's downstairs bar, glad to be rid of their absurd little vehicles for a whole day. From the look of things as I was checking in, I can tell you that those caravan folks party very, very hard when the day is done. I guess driving around France with a giant red devil looking over your shoulder will do that to you.
I needed a long trail run in the worst way. Those riverfront runs that have become a staple of the Tour are all well and good, but at some point I need to lose myself in a dense woods.
This hotel, L'Ancolie, sits directly at the bottom of the mountain. In the winter I would be able to ski from the lobby to the lifts. Likewise, finding a solitary trail was as simple as taking the elevator down and stepping outside. I ran up and up and up, slow and steady, traversing back and forth across the slope on service roads and singletrack, past herds of bell-wearing dairy cows (we exchanged moo's. It was all very Dr. Phil, and I felt like I bonded in particular with a small brown cow that couldn't decide whether to charge me or let me pass. She kept chewing on a mouthful of grass as I trotted by, but never took a wary eye off of me).
It is sobering, and somewhat splendid, to run up a mountainside until the legs scream that they cannot go any higher, feeling very full of myself, and then look even higher up the mountain and see an eighty-year old man walking down from the summit. He was my reminder to push harder and dig a little deeper (that Kate Miner song "Take Me Higher" began a continuous loop in my head). The old man wished me well as we passed. "Bon journee," I replied, hoping his hike down was a safe one.
So that's how the mind works. You push to a point where stopping feels like the only option, and then when something urges you to push past it, something inside is set free. I began composing this missive as I ran, thinking of what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it, writing entire sentences in my head, and then editing them, knowing all the while that I would forget the actual words when the run was done, and remember only the broad topics.
Take, for instance, books. I was thinking about my Tour book, CHASING LANCE, which is a book very much like these columns, about following the Tour and being in France. It is not a book about Lance per se, I must point out rather honestly, but a book about Austin and I and the Sideways-style jaunt we have taken these many years through the Gallic world. Lance, as you'll see when you get a chance to read it, is someone we spend time with and whose race we dissect, but in the end, Lance is a metaphor for the greatness that lives within us all, and which we struggle on a daily basis to bring forth in our own lives.
Man, it felt good to get that explanation out there. Not everyone needs to be filled in on the subtleties of a book. But apparently, after reading some of the knucklehead reviews on Amazon from those two or three people who will only read a Tour book if it's a Lance hagiography, some sort of Cliff's Notes was in order. I could tell you what he eats for breakfast, explain the sort of gearing in which he rides the mountains, and offer a few behind-the-scenes takes on Lance and Sheryl at the Tour, but that's all been done.
So buy my book and let me know what you think. That's my naked, shameless plug on this rest day. It's on Amazon and it's out there in the stores. And when you're finished, write and tell me how you liked it. The email link on this site is always good, and I enjoy the feedback, for better and worse.
Editor's note: You can purchase Chasing Lance here as Martin is much too humble to place his own sales promo within this blog. Aplogy for the blatant commercialism here but for those of you that appreciate this blog, you'll really enjoy Chasing Lance.
On the topic of books, I'm asked a lot about my take on the Coyle book. I have to say that I intentionally avoided reading it until after my book was finished, because I didn't want any cross-pollination. I finally read it cover to cover during a trip to Italy in May, and enjoyed it very much. The reporting was excellent and I admired the commitment of moving his entire family to Spain in order to immerse himself in Lance's world. As a writer, my only quibble would be those random moments when he loses his own voice, which is most appealing, and slips into Outside magazine's trademark (and distracting) smarty-pants, we-know-more-than-you voice that makes every one of their stories sound the same and makes the magazine virtually unreadable. On the whole, that's a minor criticism, involving just a few chapters. It's a good book.
Onward. As much as I like Les Orres, I'm already feeling like it's a mistake to linger here. Tomorrow is the L'Alpe D'Huez. As I write, I am sitting on my hotel balcony looking far across a broad valley at hulking gray Alpine peaks. Toward its right shoulder is an invisible line delineating the Italian border. But straight over the top as the eagle flies, and then down the other side, lies the base of L'Alpe d'Huez, where thousands upon thousands of fans are already setting up tents and campers and riding their bikes up the famous switchback. Austin and I have lodging at the top of the mountain, but to get there we need to push the Volvo through that sea of humanity. It's a traffic jam of epic proportions now, but it's only going to be worse tomorrow. Something inside of me thinks it's very important to be there as soon as possible.
As I wrote yesterday, the next three stages of this Tour are crucial. Tomorrow will be the first of those challenges, and one of the top riders is going to tumble down hard in the rankings. Floyd Landis could be in trouble because his team is weak, and the same goes for Cadel Evans. Watch for Denis Menchov's Rabobank teams to send Mickael Rasmussen and Michael Boogerd on exploratory breakaways designed to probe for weakness in Floyd Landis and other top riders the way that advance military patrols probe enemy lines for a soft spot in which to attack.
If you only watch one stage of this year's Tour, watch that L'Alpe D'Huez climb tomorrow. I've ridden that road before, and it's impossibly steep. Someone's just going to off on that thing tomorrow, and someone's going to implode. Meanwhile, the crowds along the road will be spitting on the riders, pressing right up next to them, throwing beer on them, waving flags in their faces -- the European version of Raider Nation, right down to the face paint.
Which reminds me, I still haven't run alongside one of the riders yet. Stay tuned. I need to do this, even if it makes me look like an utter moron.
If Floyd says anything interesting in the press conference I'll pass it along. Otherwise, I'll talk to you tomorrow.
Martin Dugard is the New York Times bestselling author of Chasing Lance (Little, Brown), a behind-the-scenes look at life at the Tour de France. His dispatches have appeared in Sports Illustrated, Esquire and GQ. You may purchase a copy of Chasing Lance by 
12 Comments:
You know it's interesting Martin... here I am sitting in Laguna Niguel, CA reading about a bike race on the other side of the world... but not only the bike race as it's not about the bike, but about people eating, sleeping, getting lost, sitting on balconies composing articles that go out across the world. What a time we live in! My mother coudn't understand how the internet worked, let alone a computer? For what's it's worth, you make the Tour come alive with your stories and observations! This is much more than just a bike race.
Martin,
Im lovin the posts! I've been a subscriber to the active.com postings for years but have never read any of the blogs over those years. When the tour started I was just finishing "Chasing Lance" and recognized your name on the Active.com site, and, having enjoyed reading your work, I've become a regular to your blog and am turning others toward it as well.
The book, I found on the shelf next to other "Lance" books. Some of which I have read and others well... Im Lanced out. Quickly reading through your book in Coles, I found a book with a little more insight into the life of the tour, the stops, and what the athletes, media, and fans contribute. Guys like me (far removed form the tour) are looking for this.
Thanks for the double postings. Insight and observations, followed by race results and whats going on behind the scenes.
lovin it
keep it up and try not to be "that guy" gettin hit by the camera crew when runnin with the bulls er, bikes.
I will admit that I initially started watching the Tour de France because of Lance. BUT along the way I discovered an amazing sport. Now I can't get enough. I read anything I can get my hands on. Your book included, and it did not disappoint. Anyone who read your book, and didn't find it enjoyable/informative, has never really watched the Tour. My guess is these are the same people who can't figure out why Lance didn't win every stage(or at least most of them). They probably aren't even aware that it is a team sport.
But, from someone who enjoys cycling as a whole, I thoroughly enjoyed going on your journey with you.
P.S. I also enjoyed "Surviving The Toughest Race On Earth"
Have been enjoying your thoughts, comments and insights regarding Le Tour these past two weeks... in no small way, they have become a highlight of my day.
Should also mention that your Lance metaphors we're well received as I read "Chasing Lance" last fall. They even inspired me to chase my own inner Lance, and I ended up dragging a somewhat confused yet happy video crew through Paris and its surrounding countryside for a week this past December.
Have a great Tour... and if you ever need a videographer/photographer to assist yourself and Austin on one of your adventures, let me know. I'll be happy to grab a few Springsteen bootlegs and ride along.
I am an Australian have never read your book, but was looking for an insight into what it would be like to follow the tour in vivo. For the last few days - I have been captivated by the memoirs? observations? that you are writing. I am working in Europe (and therefore can't watch the race!) at the moment so this brings the TDF alive for me. I will buy your book, and I can't wait for the report or two! on l'Alpe d'Huez tomorrow - go the underdogs Landis and Evans!
PS: I will buy your book this weekend ;)
Keep up the great work. Reading these posts becomes the highlight of my day for three weeks in July and I'll be pretty bummed when the tour, and your thoughts, come to an end on Sunday.
Another let down that I'm experiencing currently is the absence of the "Lance moment" that we have experienced over the pst 5 years. After l'Alp d'Huez in '01, each year seemd to have a palpable moment where LA "took over" and cemented his position. Sometimes it was early, like last year and sometimes later (like the time trial when the Kaiser crashed out and lance won the Tour with a 61 second bulge).
This year, since there is no dominant rider, the moment is harder to find and we've even had a few false moments (Landis takes yellow, Landis gives up yellow). There is no sense of inevitability as in the past and as a result, the whole race seems sort of nebulous. Fortunately, there is enough "inside" activity (Menchov not sharing the pull, the Landis pipi incident) to keep us suitably entertained.
Maybe I'm just echoing everybody's statements but your blog rocks! I look forward to the posts every day and have already read your book but am looking forward to another one. Yes, it's not about the bike and it's not about Chasing Lance. It's about the Tour and you bring it to us better than anybody. Every day I wish I were there sharing the food, the countryside and the quaint little hotels. Hope you and Austin have a great last week and thanks so much to you and active.com for bringing us this blog. I can't wait for the next few days.
Martin,
Like Jackie, I first started watching because of Lance. My interest quickly turned to the race, the riders, the amazing mental and physical challenge, and the history. Now, its all about getting up @ 5:30am to "see what Bob Roll says next". All kidding aside...keep up the great posts. Looking forward to eventually reading your book.
Hi Martin,
I must admit your description of tomorrow's stage has me very worried for Floyd. But he will continue to be my inspiration...
Admittedly, I first began rooting for him in this year's tour when I learned he was from my home state (there were a couple other top contenders I considered). But now that I've followed his story and learned some more about the guy, ... his teamsmanship, his sense of humor, his bum hip...not to mention his seemingly genuine retort to the press about giving up the yellow jersey and his relative deservededness to win, I feel even more strongly...but really it's because I feel a little like Earl and his karma. It just so happens that the timing of the TDF coincides with my training for my 1st century (I'm new to road biking)...and I've been struggling for years with a 2+cm leg length discrep, which has caused me significant hip and low back probs (and is why I took up mountain biking & spinning in the first place, quite some time ago after my kids were born)...so I'm in the process of ortho consults, x-rays, physical therapy, shoe shimming, bike fittings, etc...and I've had to watch it with heavy resistance and out of the saddle climbs - which isn't so easy living in Vermont! So even tho none of this is life-threatening stuff like Lance dealt with, I'll just let Floyd continue to inspire me, win or lose.
On a less gushy note and about your writing today...be sure to tell us all about the costume you'll be wearing when you run alongside a rider, and maybe we'll spot you on OLN! Also, liked how you chose this rest day to be a little more 'prosy' and alerting to the senses - when will you try your hand at fiction novels? (ha-ha!) Just think, now that you can spell 'Camembert', you can go on to describe settings with lusty phrases like 'perfumy bouganvillea' (or something reminiscent of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil...ha-ha) Seriously, I think that's part of the reason people enjoy your blog so much ... it's not all that often you get the combo of excellent sports commentary and lovely descriptions of French countrysides in the rain :)
Keep up the great streams!
All the best,
Martin in a costume? Hah. I figured he'd be in it just to run like a moron but adding a costume to the mix will certainly make him a double moron of sorts.
I picked up Chasing Lance because I'd read all of your other books already, and I trusted that anything that caught Martin Dugard's interest was worth the read. Your enthusiasm is contagious. I started reading it, coincidentally, when I went on vacation in May. I was doing a lot of solo train riding to make my destinations and found myself appreciating both tours. I dare say it was experiencing all the parallel journeys in the text that made me enjoy my own trip even more.
Sure, I'm a novice regarding the 'real Tour' experience but I'm here for reliving the ritual and ceremony and adventure--it's close to mythic. I couldn't resist. :) Chasing Lance got a bookish English major to like biking...
Martin, I think I've said this before, but I, too, starting watching The Tour in 2004 because of Lance and spinning classes. Last year, I read the web, the cycling magazines, and your blogs. I loved them! I could hardly wait for your book to come out! I've been 'Lance'ed' to death by reading everything, and this year I discovered that I'm annoyed when OLN contastly compares everything to the "Lance years". I've become a huge Floyd Landis fan, that started by reading Daniel Coyle's book. I've fallen in love with the sport of cycling, and find the cyclists the greatest athletes on earth. I also like riding my bike which I took up at the same time! Every cyclist that makes it through a big stage tour, and the TdF is the biggest, has tremendous endurance and a work ethic that I admire. Floyd and Dave Z were featured in Bicycling magazine, and that interview deepened my admiration and affection for the 2 American cyclists! I wouldn't miss your blogs for anything, and I'm reading your book again this week!!
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