{"id":166430,"date":"2018-07-20T11:41:37","date_gmt":"2018-07-20T11:41:37","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.welovecycling.com\/wide\/?p=166430"},"modified":"2018-07-25T07:11:09","modified_gmt":"2018-07-25T07:11:09","slug":"how-i-reached-the-end-of-my-tether-during-letape-du-tour","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.welovecycling.com\/wide\/2018\/07\/20\/how-i-reached-the-end-of-my-tether-during-letape-du-tour\/","title":{"rendered":"BLOG: How I Reached the End of My Tether During L\u2019\u00c9tape du Tour"},"content":{"rendered":"

It was devastating. I couldn\u2019t breathe, I was dizzy and sick, my back was hurting like hell, and every single second I once again begged my legs to keep pushing the pedals and get me to the summit after all. That is a brief description of the last climb of the toughest sports test I\u2019ve ever taken in my life. A test called L\u2019\u00c9tape du Tour.<\/strong><\/p>\n

I am a sportsman, I even used to be a professional basketball player. But I\u2019m definitely not a cyclist. A testimony to this are the fact that I shaved my legs for the first time only a week before the race and the mere one thousand kilometres I\u2019ve cycled this year. I\u2019ve never been in a cycling race, and the longest distance I\u2019ve covered in one go is 130 km with an elevation up to 1,700 metres. I even bought my road bike only three months before the race. Despite all that, my colleagues egged me on and I picked up the gauntlet. I\u2019ve been involved in L\u2019\u00c9tape for four years because of my job, but this time it was a whole different story.<\/p>\n

ASO chose the hardest stage possible for this year\u2019s edition \u2013 170 km in distance with an elevation of over 4,000 metres. For amateur cyclists, it was the toughest test at L\u2019\u00c9tape in years.<\/p>\n

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L\u2019\u00c9tape followed Stage 10 of this year\u2019s TdF, which included four demanding climbs. The first one, Col de la Croix Fry, was 11 kilometres long. It was a first, easy acid test, with the gentlest incline of 7% on average. I was doing quite well, going at an easy pace, when my eternal enemy made itself felt \u2013 my back. Three years ago, I was diagnosed with a damaged, slipped disc in the neck, and have been troubled by it ever since. When I reached the summit, my back hurt so bad I decided to take two painkillers, hoping it would ease the pain before the second and hardest of the climbs. As a matter of fact, the real cycling hell broke loose shortly, at kilometre 75.<\/p>\n

Plateau des Glieres, a six-kilometre climb with a dreadful gradient of 11.2% on average, was a place where you either went home prematurely, or began hoping you could finish the race when you\u2019ve reached the summit. By the way, Plateau des Glieres was also the hardest climb of the whole TdF this year! I can\u2019t even put down in words what a beast of a hill it was, I\u2019ve never seen anything like this! Not even from a car! But the toughest part was the last three kilometres. My Garmin sometimes showed a gradient of 13, 14, and even 15%. Gruesome, revolting, devastating. Suddenly, 10% seemed like a walk in the park. This was the first time I overtook a number of cyclists who were catching their breath at the side of the road, going on foot or, in the worst case, throwing up.<\/p>\n

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I\u2019d divided the event in four fictitious races in my mind \u2013 you\u2019ve probably guessed that each climb was one race. Finishing the second race would be a great success to me, but it would also kind of make me believe I can actually cross the finish line at the end of the day. My back was hurting so bad during the last two kilometres I wasn\u2019t even sure I can stand so much pain. I was counting every metre and trying to defeat the pain with the power of my mind. I don\u2019t remember much from those moments, I\u2019m dripping wet, forcing myself into every single pedal stroke with a completely exhausted face expression. Just a few more metres left, I can hear the fans cheering and congratulating us on having made it. Have I really made it? Am I actually on the summit? This can\u2019t be real. For the first time, I look up to the sky and silently tell my father, who passed away just a few months ago, that I did it and succeeded in accomplishing the first mission.<\/p>\n

When I arrive at the feeding station, I get to meet my friends from Festka, who are in awe to see me on the top so soon. But I\u2019ve exceeded my limits and have no strength left, I suddenly realise. Never in my life have I climbed this much, and I\u2019m only in the middle of the race. Fortunately, the great thing about cycling is that you recover quite fast. After a long descent and 30 kilometres of flat, I\u2019m ready for my \u201cthird race\u201d \u2013 climbing the Col de Romme. This is where everything will be decided! I take my last painkiller.<\/p>\n

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I\u2019d driven up this hill by car the day before (just like I had done with all the other climbs), so I knew what I was against. And unfortunately, the next nine kilometres with a gradient of 9% on average would be about as hellish as Glieres, longer, but without such gradient extremes. A sign at the foot of the hill says: \u201cHappiness awaits you on the top!\u201d<\/p>\n

At the start of the climb, I come across my friend Petr, who becomes my companion in our fight for survival during the next four kilometres. We spend the first two kilometres trying to chat to at least for a while forget the ordeal we\u2019re going through. We ride past a small village by the name of Nancy in the middle of the hill, and I suggest stopping there to get a rest. Petr just whispers he must go on, otherwise he wouldn\u2019t be able to get back in the saddle. I decide to ride on with him. It takes only a few more metres for me to realise that things are not okay. I feel dizzy and sick, so I can\u2019t swallow any gel or sports drink. So I take out my bidon with plain water and pour it down on my head, neck and back, hoping it will refresh me at least for a few seconds. I retreat within myself. I try to see the summit in my mind\u2019s eye and to think of the glorious feeling I\u2019ll have if I get there, if I make it.<\/p>\n

When I come back to reality for a while, I notice that Petr is far behind me and I overtake another one of my friends. The last two kilometres are a terrible ordeal. Dozens of riders sit or lie along the track, gathering strength. But I don\u2019t want to clip out of the pedals by no means. If I can do this, I\u2019ll conquer the last hill too, no matter what. The last kilometre. I pass a sign that gives me a last bit of strength: \u201cWhat is one kilometre compared to the whole life?\u201d<\/p>\n