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here is an article i got from my rowing coach a while ago......a bit of inspiration to keep training during the break we had over christmas. just thought i would show you guys.
----------Throughout the 2002 Tour de France, a Colombian rider on the Kelme
- Costa Blanca Team, Santiago Botero, has been keeping a diary for the
newspaper. Each day the newspaper publishes his diary from the previous day.
Here is an excerpt............
=================
"There I am all alone with my bike. I know of only two riders ahead of me
as I near the end of the second climb on what most riders consider the third
worst mountain stage in the Tour. I say 'most riders' because I do not fear
mountains. After all, our country is nothing but mountains. I train
year-round in the mountains. I am the national champion from a country that
is nothing but mountains. I trail only my teammate, Fernando Escartin, and a
Swiss rider. Pantani, one of my rival climbers, and the Gringo Armstrong are
in the Peloton about five minutes behind me. I am climbing on such a steep
portion of the mountain that if I were to stop pedaling, I will fall
backward. Even for a world class climber, this is a painful and slow process.
I am in my upright position pedaling at a steady pace willing myself to
finish this climb so I can conserve my energy for the final climb of the day.
The Kelme team leader radios to me that the Gringo has left the Peloton by
himself and that they can no longer see him.
I recall thinking 'the Gringo cannot catch me by himself'. A short while
later, I hear the gears on another bicycle. Within seconds, the Gringo is
next to me - riding in the seated position, smiling at me. He was only next
to me for a few seconds and he said nothing - he only smiled and then
proceeded up the mountain as if he were pedaling downhill. For the next
several minutes, I could only think of one thing - his smile. His smile told
me everything. I kept thinking that surely he is in as much agony as me,
perhaps he was standing and struggling up the mountain as I was and he only
sat down to pass me and discourage me. He has to be playing games with me.
Not possible. The truth is that his smile said everything that his lips did
not. His smile said to me, 'I was training while you were sleeping,
Santiago'. It also said, 'I won this tour four months ago, while you were
deciding what bike frame to use in the Tour. I trained harder than you did,
Santiago. I don't know if I am better than you, but I have outworked you and
right now, you cannot do anything about it. Enjoy your ride, Santiago. See
you in Paris.'
Obviously, the Gringo did not state any of this. But his smile did dispel a
bad rumor among the riders on the tour. The rumor that surfaced as we began
the Prologue several days ago told us that the Gringo had gotten soft. His
wife had given birth to his first child and he had won the most difficult
race in the world - He had no desire to race, to win. I imagine that his
smile turned to laughter once he was far enough not to embarrass me. The
Gringo has class, but he heard the rumors - he probably laugh all the way to
Paris. He is a great champion and I must train harder. I am not content to be
a great climber, I want to be the best.
I learned much from the Gringo in the mountains. I will never forget the
helpless feeling I had yesterday. If I ever become an international champion,
I will always remember the lesson the Gringo taught me.
----------Throughout the 2002 Tour de France, a Colombian rider on the Kelme
- Costa Blanca Team, Santiago Botero, has been keeping a diary for the
newspaper. Each day the newspaper publishes his diary from the previous day.
Here is an excerpt............
=================
"There I am all alone with my bike. I know of only two riders ahead of me
as I near the end of the second climb on what most riders consider the third
worst mountain stage in the Tour. I say 'most riders' because I do not fear
mountains. After all, our country is nothing but mountains. I train
year-round in the mountains. I am the national champion from a country that
is nothing but mountains. I trail only my teammate, Fernando Escartin, and a
Swiss rider. Pantani, one of my rival climbers, and the Gringo Armstrong are
in the Peloton about five minutes behind me. I am climbing on such a steep
portion of the mountain that if I were to stop pedaling, I will fall
backward. Even for a world class climber, this is a painful and slow process.
I am in my upright position pedaling at a steady pace willing myself to
finish this climb so I can conserve my energy for the final climb of the day.
The Kelme team leader radios to me that the Gringo has left the Peloton by
himself and that they can no longer see him.
I recall thinking 'the Gringo cannot catch me by himself'. A short while
later, I hear the gears on another bicycle. Within seconds, the Gringo is
next to me - riding in the seated position, smiling at me. He was only next
to me for a few seconds and he said nothing - he only smiled and then
proceeded up the mountain as if he were pedaling downhill. For the next
several minutes, I could only think of one thing - his smile. His smile told
me everything. I kept thinking that surely he is in as much agony as me,
perhaps he was standing and struggling up the mountain as I was and he only
sat down to pass me and discourage me. He has to be playing games with me.
Not possible. The truth is that his smile said everything that his lips did
not. His smile said to me, 'I was training while you were sleeping,
Santiago'. It also said, 'I won this tour four months ago, while you were
deciding what bike frame to use in the Tour. I trained harder than you did,
Santiago. I don't know if I am better than you, but I have outworked you and
right now, you cannot do anything about it. Enjoy your ride, Santiago. See
you in Paris.'
Obviously, the Gringo did not state any of this. But his smile did dispel a
bad rumor among the riders on the tour. The rumor that surfaced as we began
the Prologue several days ago told us that the Gringo had gotten soft. His
wife had given birth to his first child and he had won the most difficult
race in the world - He had no desire to race, to win. I imagine that his
smile turned to laughter once he was far enough not to embarrass me. The
Gringo has class, but he heard the rumors - he probably laugh all the way to
Paris. He is a great champion and I must train harder. I am not content to be
a great climber, I want to be the best.
I learned much from the Gringo in the mountains. I will never forget the
helpless feeling I had yesterday. If I ever become an international champion,
I will always remember the lesson the Gringo taught me.