I love pro cycling

I press the headphones against my ears and squeeze my eyes shut. Anything to help me hear better. The internet connection isn’t great but this is one of the better Internet cafes in Tashkent and most of them are closed at this late hour on a Sunday night anyway. Through the crackle and static, the familiar sounds of Paul and Phil’s voices transport me to the Champs Élysées where Lance Armstrong is about to win his 5th Tour de France. I stay to listen for as long as I can, until the online broadcast wraps up and I walk out of the Internet cafe full of teenage boys playing games. My eyes are a little wet, my nose sniffles. The Tour does this to me every year, whether I’m there or not.

I can’t tell you when exactly it happened but at some point I fell in love with pro cycling.

I come from a family of devout sports fans. Our idea of fun is to list the cities that have hosted the summer Olympics in chronological order. I’ve missed the weddings of half of my out-of-town friends, yet I have flown from New York to New Zealand for a weekend just to catch the final match of the Rugby World Cup in person. (I’m lucky to have such understanding friends!) I was raised to believe in sports as if it were my religion. Through playing high school and college sports, I found strength, courage, and confidence in myself I hadn’t known I possessed. More than a decade later, I still love to run around and be active as much as I can.

Over the past several years, I started to travel to some of cycling’s biggest races. I already loved the sport and still found myself getting more and more involved by the minute. This year I dropped all pretense and planned my 2014 completely around the peloton, hitting up over 30 races, including the spring classics, all 3 Grand Tours, national championships, and plenty of other one day and stage races.

So why, of all sports, do I love pro cycling so much?

What may seem like a simple race on the surface is actually full of complexities. From teams working as one in order to place their leader on the top step of the podium to others in the breakaway providing valuable TV coverage for their sponsors while secretly hoping that today is the day the peloton can’t organize itself to chase. At stage races filled with multiple competitions suited to nearly every rider, and at one day races where luck can be just as important as tactics, cycling is never dull. Learning the basics of racing is simple, even in a team sport with individual results, but understanding the nuances can take a lifetime.

With over 100 riders lining up in any given race, it’s not a stretch to say the peloton is a soap opera. The domestique who quietly gives everything day in, day out and finally gets the chance to shine. The rider who clearly struggles not to believe the damning media reports after a disappointing performance. The team leader who abandons a race only after thanking a teammate for giving such selfless support. In the peloton, there will be villains and heroes, heartbreak and redemption.

Living a self-imposed nomadic lifestyle these past few years, I’ve missed out on time with family and friends–but not for one minute have I been lonely. Among cycling fans, race staff, and even the pros themselves, I’ve found a community, generous and welcoming beyond words. Invitations from strangers to travel together or to crash at their house, which would normally be creepy, are the norm among fans. I can’t begin to name all of the people who work at the races–from the set up workers to the TV crews to the race officials–who have gladly given me VIP passes so that I could watch a stage from a new angle. A handful of riders have thanked me for my consistent support (I think they’re saying I’m loud!) at the races which means the world to me to know that I can help a rider pedal up a challenging climb or just be a friendly and familiar face. I carry this unexpected kindness with me in my heart.

While following the races means I’m usually thousands of miles away from loved ones, don’t let that deceive you. The sport brings my family together in a way that probably nothing else does. During the off season, my brother (Hermano) and I will easily exchange a dozen emails about the day’s cycling news, complete with analysis and personal commentary. After a race, inevitably the first thing I do is fire off a lengthy email to him, full of run on sentences and exclamation marks, about the day’s racing (I’m in agony on the days when I have to wait until he’s watched the stage on TV after work). I can expect excited emails from my parents in whatever countries they happen to be in and regardless of the time of day or night after I’ve updated my blog with race photos and stories. I’m not always great at telling my family how much I love them, but I’m sure it says so when they read between the lines.

I could go on, but I don’t think I need to. Pro cycling satisfies both my love of competition and my desire for human interaction. With that in mind, there is much room for improvement. It’s no secret that cycling has gone through seriously troubling times in the last 20 years. I believe there is less doping in the peloton today but there are still glaring problems. The sport is not financially sustainable in its current set up. Riders have shockingly few rights and are not well represented to the key decision makers. The governing body is responsible for simultaneously promoting and policing the sport, a proven conflict of interest. Women’s cycling (to say nothing of track cycling, cyclo-cross and mountain biking) needs better exposure as does the sport as a whole in Africa, Asia, and Latin America. Perhaps it’s not a surprise, but I’ve got several ideas on these topics and more. In the coming days and weeks, I will be writing a series of articles with my ideas and suggestions about how to improve pro cycling. I am excited to have Hermano’s valuable input, too, on this project so stay tuned as I publish my thoughts here. My goal is to ensure the health and longevity of the sport so that future generations of fans–and riders–can indulge their passion, just as I’ve been able to.