Saturday, 18 January 2020

WHEN BIG GEORGE TOOK HIS FIRST SHOT IN THE ARM



EPO became a way of life 
Cycling has its Hall of Fame. Why not a Hall of Shame - for dopers?

How big would it need to be?  Vast, I imagine.

Reading the excellent feature on the Italian legend Fausto Coppi in the recent Rouler magazine brought doping into focus again for me.
It  must be stressed there were no rules banning doping back then. There was not the stigma we attach to it today.  It was probably just quietly accepted as "necessary", not talked about much.

So I don't think riders from that period would necessarily be in my Hall of Shame which will take nominations from the modern era only, for doping has become a far more sophisticated science and quite clearly recognised as cheating.

The idea of a Hall of Shame  came to me after coming across the autobiography of serial doper George Hincapie, “loyal” workhorse for that other serial doper, the infamous Lance Armstrong.

First the Coppi article.

Although the piece didn’t broach the matter of doping, an intriguing passage about Coppi's successful Hour record attempt at Milan’s Vigorelli track in 1942 allured to it.

During the “last segment” of the Hour, when it was touch and go whether Coppi would break Frenchman Maurice Archambaud record of 45.480km, Coppi took three pills from his back pocket and swallowed them. There was no explanation as to what the pills were but whatever they were, "they were enough to give him a final boost".   Coppi broke the record by  31 metres, establishing a new mark of 45.871km.

Notwithstanding Coppi’s remarkable athletic abilities in the pre and post war years, earning him the moniker “Campionissimo” Coppi, like so many of his compatriots, admitted doping.

And although  this was not illegal it nevertheless  provoked media interest as if perhaps the practice was considered just as questionable as frequenting a brothel from time to time.

As in the following television interview with Coppi who didn't deny he took "la bomba" when asked the following questions: 

Do cyclists take la bomba (amphetamine)?

Answer: Yes

Question: How often.

Answer: Whenever it was necessary.

Question: And when was it necessary?

Answer: Almost all the time!





That’s OK, then!


There are stories of his rival Bartali going into Coppi’s hotel room to rummage through his waste basket, filching out discarded medicines and empty pill packets to see what he was on.

Coppi's many victories included five times winning the Tour of Italy, and twice winning the Tour de France. Other major successes included the  world road title once, the Giro di Lombardia five times;   Milan San Remo three times and the cobbled classic Paris – Roubaix once.


In Italy today, an Italian journalist says doping in cycling is regarded as an occupational hazard.

Pro racing is especially tough, perhaps too tough if riders need to resort to chemical assistance to compete at the top. Single day races lasting several hours, Tours of three weeks duration, fierce competition, a long and heavy racing programme pushing the body and mind to the limit.

You can’t win the Tour on salad and mineral water alone, a famous rider once said. 


But this raises the question, could Coppi have  performed such feats of endurance in the Grand Tours and classics had he not resorted to doping?  The question can be asked of all of the others, too.

It's all or nothing for them. Some riders faced with this choice have either simply raced clean and raced the best they could, or given up their on dreams of competing against the top professionals.

Those who doped appear to have simply adjusted their moral compass, placing the use of steroids, testosterone, growth hormone and various cocktail power boosters in the same category as nutrition and having the best bikes and equipment. It all became part of the preparation in their virtual reality world.

They had no choice, they protested.

Which was the case for the defence when  in the early 1990s  EPO made its appearance in the peloton.

This brings me to George Hincapie’s book, The Loyal Lieutenant, My Story, published in 2014 published by Harpur Sport, an imprint of Harper Collins Publishers.

Perhaps the title ought to have been, Confessions of a serial doper?

I only discovered this in my local library last week.  I found Big George to be most enlightening about how he and Lance Armstrong famously and shamelessly doped their way to Lance’s seven consecutive Tour de France victories.

In 2012 Hincapie confessed to and justified using performance enhancing drugs.

"Given the widespread use of performance-enhancing drugs by cyclists at the top of the profession, it was not possible to compete without them," said the 39-year-old Hincapie, reported the BBC .


In January the following year, on the Oprah Winnie show,  Armstrong finally confessed to having doped for all his seven Tour victories.

That has gone down as the biggest sporting con in history, resulting in all seven victories being struck from the record. Not that it concerned either of them.  They still consider those victories won.

What interests me is what is going on in the head of a rider when he starts to dope.

Hincapie tells us in his book.

Hincapie, who is from New York, rode the Tour de France 17 times. A tall impressive rider, capable enough of being the champion in any race of his choosing, says Armstrong in the foreword.

Instead, their lifelong friendship which began in their junior days, saw Hincapie put personal ambition aside in the interest of the team.  More specifically he become the willing workhorse for Armstrong through the good and bad.

The bad being….well we  know all about that.

Hincapie’s story gets to the bottom of it.



When EPO (Erythropoietin) arrived on the scene we know that pros like Hincapie and Armstrong justified taking the stuff by saying they were merely levelling the playing field because almost everyone else was doping.

It was a two speed peloton in early 90s, those on it and those left behind!

EPO was rocket fuel, increasing oxygen in the blood, boosting even the average performer beyond his normal athletic ability.


That’s what pissed off Armstrong and Hincapie who were not yet on that stuff, the fact that riders who once were hanging on and being dropped, were suddenly riding along comparatively easily whereas they, the top dogs,  were struggling.  So they decided to reboot the system and re-establish the pecking order.

And they too eventually stuck needles in their shoulders and joined the EPO club to get back on top. They began living the lie, living the dream in the famous classics and the Grand Tours.  They faked it, courtesy of a skilfully managed and administered doping programme  to boost performance and fool medical controls afterwards.


George’s book provided me with a fascinating insight with what goes through the mind of a rider when he or she decides to cheat.

In 1995, he rode and completed his first grand tour, the Vuelta, three weeks of suffering, including getting smashed into the barriers by another rider 50 metres from a certain win three days from the end.


Halfway through the race Hincapie had pushed open the door to the hotel bedroom he shared with another rider …. “I saw him with a needle in his arm.”

Hincapie retreated, out of the room. The pair never spoke of it.

Hincapie admitted to an “overwhelming sense of unfairness”.

“I didn’t know it at the time, but the effects of EPO are staggering. The drug really was a game changer.”


His next moment of revelation came later in the race, which made him realise he could never compete with guys who were on the juice unless he too had assistance.

He’d listened to a rider complaining about how bad he felt, how poor his results were, that he couldn’t recover.  And then noted how the rider’s friend came by with special package and how the next day, having struggled every day until then, he was in the breakaway!


In 1996, Big George took the plunge. In his book he says that he felt he'd
reached the end of his options of racing clean. The only way he could compete on a level playing field with his rivals was to do what they were doing.

What finally convinced him to start cheating was seeing the contents of Frankie Andreu’s cooler. Inside was a Thermos-like container.

“…even though I had no real idea what I was staring out, I was gazing at my future.”

He was looking at labelless vials.  He figured it was EPO, the drug he

  had heard about. So this was what all the fuss was about?

“This is what I have to do to be the best I can be?”


Hincapie pressed Andreu to explain why he was taking EPO.

He replied he didn’t have a choice. He had to do it to survive. Everyone was doing it, he said.

Hincapie made his first purchase in Switzerland.  No prescription necessary.

He says he it planned it like a military operation, withdrawing cash from different ATM machines over a couple of days, following different routes to and from his accommodation.


On the big day he wore a no-name plain jersey and rode his bike across the Italian-Swiss border to Chiasso, a small  town.

In the pharmacy there he asked for a box of Epirex.  That was the name he was told to ask for.

The lady stared at him for a moment, causing Hincapie a surge of panic.  He worried he’d set off silent alarms somewhere and feared for his downfall.

Clearly, Big George knew what he was doing was wrong.

She went away and after what seemed a long time returned with an elongated box.

 He handed her 500 Swiss francs and she gave him his new future – up to eight weeks supply.

Have a nice day, she said.


Back at the accommodation in Italy Hincapie prepared to take his first shot in his upper arm.  It seemed that riders self-treated. No doctors telling them how in those days.

There he was, sitting on the toilet seat, tiny syringe in hand, nervous but determined.


“Here we go…” he said.

And he did the first of countless injections.

He exited the bathroom “a changed man”.

“I felt completely at peace.”

In 2004 two weeks before a major race he would take EPO every other day. Sometimes he would mix in testosterone or growth hormone twice a week.

“There was no guilt; it was part of the training.”

It was the new normal.


He found he could, ride harder and for longer and recover more quickly because EPO stimulated the production of red blood cells and increasing the flow of oxygen to his muscles.

The book is his confession about this dark period in his life as top professional rider. It tells in detail of the highs and lows of how he and Armstrong and their team came to dominate the Tour, of the tactical, mental and physical battles engaged in, of how he strived for success in the single day classics.

There are many contributions from compatriots, some of them also on the stuff, all singing the praises of a classy rider who would eventually came to terms with what he had done and bare his soul.

Big George, by the sound of it, is probably one of the nicest dopers you could wish to meet.


It is well known that EPO, by thickening the blood, leads to an increased risk of several deadly diseases, such as heart disease, stroke, and cerebral or pulmonary embolism. The misuse of recombinant human EPO may also lead to autoimmune diseases with serious health consequences.

World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA)












Tuesday, 7 January 2020

Solved, my Bontrager speedo mystery


Now I know why my Bontrager computer had gone doolalley - in my previous blog,  up there.



It appears some sort of magnetic field was interfering with the signal, resulting in no speedo!

Let me explain.



I had my local bike shop fit a new Bontrager computer to my bike.

I asked them to do it because quite frankly I felt I had put a jinx on the first one.

And while at it I had the bike serviced - the gears were slipping, there was a bit of vibration from the front brake. Probably a bit of play in the  headset.

Well, I picked up the bike with its new computer set up and I was happy to note it was working nicely. As were the gears. But there's still a little vibration from the front brake at speed.

And next day – this afternoon – I went for a spin.

I rolled away and guess what?

It was playing the same game...no speed reading. Blank.

I stopped.

I said to myself what's going on?

I switched my brain to lateral.

And I asked myself, what's different?

Aha!

When the  comp was fitted at the shop there was no front light on the handlebars and the speedo was working.

On this ride there was a front lamp on the handlebars. And the speedo wasn't working!



So I removed the lamp!

And set off.

Hey presto, speedo began to work!!!!

It seems that the lamp - or the battery more probably - which was sitting directly above the wireless transponder on the fork blade, was interfering with the signal to the computer which was sitting just a few inches away from the lamp on the handlebars.

If these devices could talk I imagine it went like this.



Transponder to lamp: “Oi, you up there!  Yes  you, the lamp! I’m trying to send a message to the computer next to you on the handlebars and you’re blocking it.”

Lamp reply to Transponder:  “Oh, it’s you is it, giving me a frigging migraine.”



So I repositioned the lamp on the other side of the handlebars.

And set off.

And still the computer didn’t work!

So I stopped and moved the lamp three inches further along the top of the handlebars, clear, I hoped, of the “electrical field”.

That did the trick.

Soon I was batting along and a quick glance showed me I was moving at over 10mph!

Uphill, a two-mile long drag, into low cloud.

Managed about 19mph along the flat top road. Not bad for me. Quite happy with that. Easily amused.

However, the lamp in its new position means I cannot rest my hands on the top of the bars as I like. So now I will need to figure that out. A bike rider’s day is never finished!

Thursday, 2 January 2020

My Bontrager cycling computer went doolally






My Bontrager cycling computer no longer records my speed. This is very annoying.

I bought this gizmo as an early Christmas present to myself because I fancied it would look cool. A  nice bit of hardware on a neat clamp projecting out over the stem and front wheel. It added a bit more style to my stylish midnight blue Condor Italia RC frame.



Its years since I had a comp on the handlebars. I remember when that last one gave up the ghost. It had gone haywire, recording 80mph on a flat road.

This latest one is set to metric.  20kph doesn’t feel as slow at 12mph.


It was the clock I wanted, so I could easily see how long I was out riding, so as to return to my duties on time, my wrist watch having packed up earlier in the year.

Besides it would be fun also to see how slow I was riding.


On a slight downhill run I knew well I registered 40kph.  I was a bit disappointed for I always imagined I was going much faster!

I used to go twice that fast off the Horse Shoe Pass in North Wales in my youth. Spinning 54x14.

I know because on one flying descent a passing motorcyclist held up a gloved hand showing me five fingers!   50mph (80kph in today’s money) on the 1-in-7 drop past Valle Crucis Abbey ruins rushing by on the left.

And if I recall correctly, a tricky double bend over a humpback bridge coming up.  No trouble for the centre-pull Mafacs of course.  Innocent days.


Back to the future.

After a week, my new gizmo packed up. I had set out and noted immediately that it  was showing me a blank screen as I was rolling along.

So I stopped to have a fiddle with it.


The clock was on; information from my previous ride was still there, the Odometer, total distance, calories burned???

Can you believe that?

Calories burned!

How could it know?  Extrapolated nonsense.


I spun the front wheel. Nothing, no speed registered.

So I reset everything at the roadside!  And noticed that when it offered a selection of wheel sizes to choose, the 700.23 was no longer an option!

Then I thought bollocks to this. I’m meant to be on a bike ride, not fiddling around trying to reset this computer.

Where are the IT specialists when you need them?

Even so, the fact it wasn’t working was irritating and 30 minutes later I was again stopped pressing buttons in the hope it would start working. It wouldn’t. 


At home I hung the bike up, gave the front wheel a twirl.

Hey, and it came alive, 4.5 kph!

So I wheeled the bike back outside and rode around block. Blank!

Nothing.

It was having me on!


Perhaps the battery in the transponder on the forks was dead?

So I bought a new 12 volt battery.  Spun the wheel. Nothing.

I got out my magnifying glass to study a small icon which had appeared as a smudge on the screen. The icon was of a spanner! Or a wrench, as the leaflet called it.

The leaflet explained what the icon meant.

It meant, time for a service!

What?

I’ve barely had the thing a week!

Still, clearly something needed attention. So thank you, Icon.


Rang my excellent local bike shop where I bought this thing from.  Told them my story.

Bring the bike in tomorrow morning, they said.

The mechanic puzzled at the sight of icon of the wrench portrayed on the screen.

So he turned to the shop computer and I presume he found the manufacturers technical support page.


He screwed up his nose in disbelief at what the screen was telling him.

That icon has nothing to do with the computer, he said. It’s a reminder to have the bike serviced!

Totally superfluous bit on information, we both agreed.

What next, an icon reminding you when to blow your  nose?


Leave the bike with us and come back later this afternoon, said the mechanic.

Four hours later I collected my bike. The computer was working again!

How did you do that?


We moved the transponder on the fork closer to the magnet on the spokes, he said.

I looked at its new position, slightly turned inward instead of sitting straight as per the diagram in the explanatory leaflet.  It had worked in the original position, to begin with, which I am sure was set to the correct distance of between 3mm and 5mm from the magnet.

But hey, it had stopped working then. Now it’s OK.

Three cheers for figuring it out, I said to the mechanic.

No charge, he said.

Even better, I said.

See how it goes, he said. Any problems bring it back, it’s on warranty.


Wheeled the bike out of the shop at 1.5kph. No reckless speeding, me!

Walked it across the road. I had shopping from the supermarket so I was walking. Anyway, my house is only 200 yards away and on that short trip the computer dutifully clocked 2.7kph. Shopper speed.


Got in the house, slung the Condor on to its hooks and gave the front wheel a spin, just in case!

6kph, standing still. All well and good.

Came back out an hour later, gave the front wheel another spin.

The screen blanked me!

Except for the clock. That was running.

But no speedo!

What the *%!?

To be continued….(maybe)











Monday, 2 December 2019


BREXIT or Bike-it? asks Cycling UK

With the general election next week, Cycling UK are calling on cyclists to ask their local MP to press Government for the £billions needed to fund active travel to help stave off climate change and pollution.

They know full well that we are all consumed by a terrible angst with the long running Brexit farce with no end.

But taking the long view,  whatever becomes of Brexit, the government must still be persuaded to address climate change and pollution before the Thames floods  Parliament and one way of doing so is by  pumping £billions into making the roads safer for cycling. 

I'll believe it when I see it, says Bingers
Well, I think we know the present government’s response to that one! Nevertheless, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

In fact Labour’s election manifesto promises massive investment, the Liberals offer is pretty good while the Conservative’s budget for cycling remains typically poor.

The indefatigable Paul Tuohy, Chief Executive of Cycling UK, says whatever your position on Brexit, lobby your MP to press for the sustained government investment needed.

There was nothing in the last Budget for this.

Currently, about 2 per cent of the transport budget goes to cycling. It needs to be at least 5 per cent.

So, do as Paul asks, write to your MP about this. (Or email if you  no longer possess pen and paper)

You never know, one day the government may fulfil their own modest target to double cycle use which at present ain’t going to happen because their own active travel policy is all but inactive.

What the three main political parties promise to spend on cycling in their election manifesto 

The Guardian Bike Blog has it all in greater detail. You can read an edited version here

courtesy of The Guardian News and Media.

https://www.theguardian.com/environment/bike-blog/2019/dec/01/which-partys-general-election-pledges-are-best-for-cyclists

From the Guardian Bike Blog…

The Walking and Cycling Alliance wants £17 per person per year to be spent on active travel, rising to £34 per person by 2025. Spending is currently £7 per person annually.

Conservative

Main pledges: A £350m cycling infrastructure fund over five years (£70m a year), and “tough new design standards, which must be followed to receive any money”; a £2bn pothole fund; Bikeability training for every child; pilots of low-traffic “healthy neighbourhoods” to reduce rat running on residential streets, with increased provision “for separated bike lanes on main roads”; trials incentivising GPs to prescribe bicycles or bicycle hire to patients. There is mention of a “long-term cycling programme and budget like the roads programme and budget, though of course smaller”, though it is unclear if that refers to the £350m or something longer-term.

Funding pledge on cycling: £70m per year, each year of the new parliament; total £350m.

Per head per year: £1.18 – so less than the current spend.

However, £350m over five years is tiny in transport terms and pales in comparison to what other parties are offering. Manchester alone needs £1.4bn for its city-wide cycling and walking programme.



Labour

Main pledges: £50 per head per year on cycling by the end of the term, amounting to £7.2bn a year. Deliver 5,000km (3,100 miles) of cycleways within the first term; provide safe cycling and walking routes to 10,000 primary schools; £200 grants for e-bike purchase and support for an “e-bike valley” industrial cluster. Bring back Cycling (and now also Walking) England, axed in the bonfire of the quangos, to deliver councils’ plans. Doubling of Bikeability funding to cover all primary school children, plus secondary school children, and adults. Fully fund the Cycling and Walking Investment Strategy which sets targets to double cycling by adults and children by 2025. Cycling and bicycles on prescription; a “cycling and walking social investment fund” to support active travel in “left-behind areas”.





Summary: £8.2bn a year is a huge amount of money for cycling. This programme, if successfully implemented, would be transformative – opening up cycling as a genuine transport option up and down the country. Funds would come from vehicle excise duty, says Labour – i.e. the polluter pays. The goal of the plans is to cut congestion and air pollution, which is responsible for at least 40,000 deaths a year, boost health and improve towns and cities.



Liberal Democrat

Main pledges: Spending 10% of the transport budget on cycling by the end of a five-year parliament. More devolution and power to councils to make decisions; using the planning process to reduce car dependency in new developments. “A national strategy to promote cycling and walking, including the creation of dedicated safe cycling lanes”; placing a far higher priority on encouraging walking and cycling; reducing car use; integration of rail, bus and cycle routes.

Funding pledge on cycling: 10% of the transport budget by the end of a five-year parliament.

Summary: Light on detail, though a commitment of 10% of the transport budget is an ambitious target.


Sunday, 17 November 2019

Council surrender and Velolife lives again


So it came to pass that the Royal Borough of Windsor and Maidenhead finally gave up their vindictive two-year campaign and last week withdrew their application for an injunction - and with it the threat of a jail sentence - against the owner of Velolife cycling café.

But it took the sustained joint effort of Britain’s two biggest cycling bodies, 
Cycling UK and British Cycling - who wheeled into action lawyers Leigh Day - before the council surrendered.

Here’s how Cycling UK summarised the case made against Velolife.
Lee Goodwin’s café and workshop in Warren Row, Berkshire, was made the subject of an Enforcement Notice by the council in October 2017, following a complaint from a neighbour. In July this year the Council applied for an injunction against Mr Goodwin alleging breaches of the Enforcement Notice, which could have resulted in imprisonment for him if cyclists met at his premises.
Perhaps we’ll never know what exactly occurred that finally persuaded the council to back down, but clearly Leigh Day played a major part in preventing the case reaching court.

This was a “victory for common sense” said Cycling UK.
The lone resident’s complaint was that his or her right of access to his or her house was blocked by cyclists outside the café. That’s a fair enough complaint to be followed up.

And it was, by the looks of it, for a sign was posted outside the café requesting no one gather there.

But the whole thing started to go mad when the council claimed that Velolife would be in breach of the planning application if organised meetings or rides began or ended there.  And yet they were unable to explain what exactly constituted a meeting or an organised ride!

And then the story descended into farce as they sent in inspectors to check on cyclists arriving and departing!

What was it that had so spooked the council?
Was this a grudge thing? A council bigwig’s brush with a badly behaved person or persons on bikes?
Taking it out on the whole wider cycling community?

Was this the fear of the unknown? Of  something different in their backyard?  
This strange tribe gathering in their big shiny helmets and tights and colourful jerseys and jackets and sparkling machines, walking awkwardly in their cleated shoes. 

And worst thing of all, smiling and laughing, joking, voices raised in greeting, perhaps drowning out the comforting throbbing noise of traffic.

Perhaps the resident and the council saw those big helmets and shiny skinny clothing and thought, Christ, the aliens are back.

For there are some who would have us believe we were visited by others from some far off place in Biblical times, teaching our forefathers  engineering, astronomy, maths and probably Bingo and Morris Dancing as well. For there is no doubt these activities are the product of a much higher intelligence. 
As a former club hill-climb champion I can only appreciate and envy them their anti-gravity propulsion drives.




Whatever, it is certainly true that people are often spooked by change. Take the story a few years ago of the fear generated among residents who began to shake with rage at the proposal to run heavy freight trains along the hitherto barely used railway line at the bottom of their gardens of their big 
houses.

The fact that the railway had been there 100 years before houses were built alongside it seemed to have escaped them. Bit like moving to live on a main road and then complaining about the traffic noise.

Or people who move into a flat opposite a pub and get a cob on when the place erupts with loud rock music on two evenings a week.

Or this one. City people moving to live in the countryside and then moaning about farm smells; moles digging up manicured lawns; deer trampling flower beds.

The railway was there first, so was the pub, so was the farm and so were the animals. Get used to it.

Back in the 19th century cycles made transport history by becoming the first mechanically propelled machines on the roads, providing individuals – for the first time ever - with the means to travel far and wide. Including to Windsor and Maidenhead, where they might like to find refreshment and horror of horrors, meet with other cyclists!  Get used to it.
The new Millennium has seen a cycling Renaissance. Velolife is a celebration of that.

Monday, 11 November 2019

Bristol 15th best cycling city in global survey


BRISTOL confirmed its claim to be Britain’s most popular city for cyclists when placing 15th worldwide in a 90-city Global Bicycles Cities Index - carried out by German insurance company Coya -  reports Cycling UK.


Edinburgh was rated next best British city, placed 54th worldwide, while London was rated third best in the UK,  62nd overall. Dublin in Ireland was placed 60th in the overall table.


No prizes for guessing which city topped the survey,

Yes, Utrecht in Holland, that Utopian cycling city to many eyes here in the UK.

Next best was Munster in Germany, 2nd.  Antwerp, Belgium, placed 3rd, Copenhagen, Denmark was ranked 4th, Amsterdam in Holland 5rd and Malmo, Sweden, 6th.
(photo by Elina Sazonova)


According to Coya, Utrecht comes out top for several reasons. For a start, over half of the city’s residents regularly use a cycle. There are low accident rates and few bike thefts.


The authorities created a bike-friendly city with a network of covered and open air cycle paths linking many areas, with purpose built bridges, subways and roundabouts designed for cyclists.


Utrecht also boasts the world’s largest cycle park which by next year will be extended to include 33,000 bike parking spaces.

Utrecht, to many of us in Britain, represents cycling Utopia.


What’s Bristol got going for it?

Well, in 2008, Bristol was named Britain’s first Cycling City stealing the thunder from Cambridge, Edinburgh and London who all like to think they are top dogs for cyclists in the UK, where investment in cycling nationally remains piss poor.

Currently the government claims to be spending £7 per head of population (England) which is quite a jump from what it was a few years ago when it was about £2 per head and falling. Even so it remains far below what the Dutch invest in cycling which is now £25 per head.
As I recall it, funding would have to be at least £10 per head in the UK before we would see an  appreciable increase in the number cycling utility trips made. It's not just about building cycle lanes, it's about making roads and specifically junctions  everywhere safer to use.

In the absence of  any decent government funding to make the roads safer for cycling - estimated to run to £billions but still mere peanuts in annual transport budget – it is left to those cities with the political gumption to do what they can with moderate sums offered by the government.


In this way Bristol received £19m a few years ago and £7 million more recently, enabling them to put down cycle lanes on many streets, including Dutch-style segregated lanes.

It is most appropriate Bristol should be leading the way. It is thanks to the former local pressure group Cyclebag that the 12-mile Bristol to Bath  cycling  and walking route along a disused railway was built in the 1970s. 
This led to the creation of Sustrans 
(the Sustainable Transport charity based in Bristol) famous for creating the 16,000 mile national cycling and walking route.




Sunday, 27 October 2019

ONE OF THE MISSING MILLIONS







I never tire of the dramatic vistas which open up when I am cycling in the hills around the small Surrey market town where we live. I enjoy the warmth of the sun on my face, the fresh air, the satisfaction of powering along under my own steam. I can take descents Vincenzo Nibali style  - I like to think - carving a perfect arc through the hairpins. When I can see that the road is clear!

I just wish my daughter could enjoy the countryside as I do.


But she is housebound, isolated by a terrible genetic medical condition which baffles doctors and scientists alike.  She has Ehlers Danlos syndrome (EDS) and Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia (PoTs); she is grounded, physically and mentally.


The government is being petitioned to increase the research into EDS.


Here is the link: https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/275249
Why the zebra?
*There is a saying “When you hear hoof-beats behind you, don’t expect to see a zebra.” 
This is because they are taught to look for the more common diagnosis, not the unexpected. 
EDS is rare, so the medical profession does not look for it, especially in young people. 
That’s why it is usually under diagnosed or misdiagnosed.




The condition presents hypermobility - bendy limbs.

Bendy limbs are a symptom of weak connective tissue – the stuff which connects bone, muscle and organs, body and mind together.

Many people have bendy limbs with no serious ill effects. But for a lot of people, it can be very painful and even lead to serious dislocations.


Here’s an analogy the better to understand this.  Think of the human body as a chassis, such as that of a motor vehicle, that rigid framework upon which is set not just the body, but also the engine and all working parts.

Imagine the chassis is made of rubber, bends this way and that. So the driveshaft moves out of line, the engine stalls, fuel flow is unreliable.

You would change the vehicle. You cannot change the human vehicle. 


She has orthostatic intolerance meaning the slightest movement can push heart rate sky high and blood pressure very low, resulting in giddiness, feinting in some cases. When this occurs there is a need to sit down immediately, and wait for it to pass.

She has sensory overload – the slightest sound is a thunder clap; bright colours dazzle and shimmer; move too quickly, dizziness.

There is chronic fatigue, which is a common factor also with sufferers of ME.  

There is crushing anxiety – up to seven times greater than normal - triggered by an overreaction by the brain to what otherwise would be considered normal day to day stress.


 I am free.

She is a prisoner. 

Not permitted a smile of pleasure at the beauty of the Weald, as I am. Or to play football for a local team, as she once did when a schoolgirl - although she was so often exhausted afterwards. And so hungry we needed to quickly find a café on the way home. Years later and after endless appointments, she was diagnosed hyperglycaemic.


Well, that was a relief to know at last the reason for the angry, traumatic and embarrassing outbursts at the school gate all those years before.  

No warning.  Sudden and dramatic ravenous bouts of hunger, plummeting blood sugar levels, a craving to eat.  Her mum would take a sandwich along to quell the hunger and anger.  

She was a young adult when the PoTs kicked in. Although she didn’t know it was PoTs at that time.

One day, returning home across town the world started to spin.

Thank you, cardiac specialist Dr Nick Gall, of King’s College Hospital in London who considered her case merited further investigation. After a private hour-long consultation he determined to do for her what no other doctor had considered doing these past 20 years, strive to identify wider health issues through a variety of specialists.


Some 30 exhaustive tests later, over a 12-month period - thankfully arranged on the NHS - she was found to have PoTs (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia) and EDS – which was diagnosed by the Royal Orthopaedic Hospital at Stanmore. For years she was considered to be suffering from ME, which presents similar symptoms to PoTs.


Her honours degree in broadcast production is the one shining positive in her life thus far, which came after a four year respite from illness over 10 years ago and which had taken her out of secondary education in her first term.  She had recovered sufficiently to return to education in fits and starts, but needed to take care and to rest often.


That achievement stands as a marker to opportunities lost and although she began to relapse during her final term, she completed her studies.  But the cruel effects of EDS means her future is now on hold.


For she is one of the “Missing Millions”, mostly they are young people and all with the same or related conditions. No longer seen outside their front door. In the absence of any understanding of this condition in the wider NHS, sufferers are left alone, cared for by parents who themselves can become severely stressed with worry and little respite.  She discovered who her real friends were. They stayed in touch, bless them. Others drifted away. The isolation is awful.


Dr Jessica Eccles, NIHR Clinical Lecturer, Brighton and Sussex Medical School, offers hope for EDS sufferers. She is currently exploring how hypermobility causes such a range of disabling conditions.

She and her team have designed and are to test a new non-drug treatment for managing anxiety in those suffering with hypermobility and autism.  There is evidence that people with this condition are wired differently, she says. But exactly how she doesn’t know. I insert a “yet” in there because I try to remain positive.


My mind is full of this as I ride, which necessity means cannot be for long, for my wife and I share caring duties for our daughter hour by hour. So I am able to get out for an hour and a half or so, usually first thing in the morning before the house is up, or sometimes it will be after lunch,  on one or two days a week.


I’m lucky in that I am retired and so I can do this. Unlike my wife who works from home and so has very few breaks.  Juggling home life with work deadlines is added stress.

Up and along and down the North Downs I will go, or perhaps on the mtb to Deer Leap Woods, there to glory in the  tantalising view back down the valley to the town sitting in the curve of the hills, and the church spire reaching for the sky.


We all went down that route years ago, when Jenny  was a child, on the Isla trailer bike hooked up behind me, with mum on a Raleigh Pioneer hybrid.

If she was well, Jenny would probably prefer to go film conferences – which she used to do with friends.  That was years ago, when her condition allowed windows of opportunity to engage with the world – but carefully. Because there would be consequences – several days of aching limbs, brain fog, muscle pain.


Serenity, that was the sci-fi film she took me to see.

When neighbours were away, Jenny would look after their cats.  She might also do a morning stint helping out in local charity shops.

But now the condition has closed even those few loopholes, those rewarding escapes which allowed her to dream, to plan her life. She had wanted to work in LA.


She was industrious, a natural leader, and CNN took quite a shine to her when she worked at their London news studio during the summer break in her degree course.

Now movement is too painful. It would take her 20 minutes to manage the stairs.  So  she has confined herself to her room. She has not left this room for over six months now. She becomes very depressed, fearful, and the obsessive compulsion evident as a child has grown worse. There are huge meltdowns.


So her room offers a peaceful haven away from the clatter of dishes in the kitchen, away from voices which no matter how low can still be too loud. But her best friend’s bark – Toby, our Dachshund (right)  – is no longer heard. For this sparky character, our friend, passed away in his 14th year, at the end of June and is greatly missed.


She would sometimes ask for Toby to be brought up to her for cuddles. Sometimes we’d see him at the foot of the stairs, peering upwards, wanting to visit, when we would take him up.

There are many constraints. There can be no longer be any     visitors to our small cottage - sound carries.  One carer must be here at all times, 24/7. The daily routine remains the same.  Christmas, Easter – barely observed, they have become merely dates on the calendar.


There is a care management protocol to follow.

There is a need for several small portions of fresh food through the day – she has a slow digestive tract.

Sinus pain requires ice packs. Back and neck pain heat wraps, sometimes late into the night.  We maintain a supply of fresh water. She was required to consume between three and four litres per day but this is now reduced.

There will be lemon drinks, mint tea, ordinary tea, Complan, Ready Brek.  For lunch, nearly always a small portion of chicken, rice or potato and vegetables, after which she will take a glass of freshly made carrot juice with ginger.


The evening meal of homemade vegetable soup is followed by a small glass of broccoli and cucumber juice also with ginger. Ugh! There will be snacks provided overnight in case of need – dry Rivita crackers, a banana.  A flask of hot water.

She manages herself a strict medicinal routine,  rigidly follows her nutritionists guidelines – shades of her former well-organised self.


How different life can be. It is not really a life. That said, the condition is not life-threatening in itself.  But the lack of movement, the loss of condition, physical and mental, poses future serious health risks.

The local GPs know all the details of her plight, courtesy of Dr Gall.   


Yet over the years even though they have invited us to discuss with them any problems, they have never offered a routine health check, except when prompted.  

Our doctor, a kindly man, admits to knowing next to nothing about the condition and yet he disputed her level of anxiety.  She had dosed up with painkillers for his visit!

He was called out because of her repeated high temperature readings. He had never encountered this before and didn’t know what might be done to alleviate it.

Notwithstanding many others who have far more serious and often life-threatening conditions, this invisible and horrible illness puts sufferers through one of the stages of Hell.  


She no longer reads books.  Doesn’t read newspapers, or watch Television, nor go online.  Has no idea what’s going on in the world. Doesn’t want to know.

The sensory issues have forced her to withdraw.

There is the occasional smile, when the pain eases.  She will do her daily stretching routine, a very light workout in accordance with advice.

Otherwise she stares at the walls, at the sky through the window, lost in her own thoughts, whatever they may be.  For there is no conversation as such.  A sentence or two when she needs a hug or simply silent company.


There is a cycle shop up on the hill, a hill that be seen from her window if she cared to look.

This shop is aptly named Destination Bike and more often than not that will be my destination occasionally.  I can be there in 30 minutes. A 10-minute stop. My escape.

Excellent coffee and cake in there – and it goes without saying, excellent bikes and kit. The owner must be very fit.  He and a dozen of his friends rode the Tour de France route in June.  As you do!


The 1972 route, that is.  They chose ‘72 because it had fewer transfers between stages than more recent editions of the biggest bike race in the world. This made it more manageable to organise, starting from the same town the Tour arrived in the day before.

The ’72 Tour was won by the greatest of them all, Eddy Merckx. It was his fourth victory of five in Le Tour.

That edition covered just over 3,800 kilometres in all, taking in the big mountains - the Pyrenees, Mont Ventoux in Provence and the Alps.

Lots of ups and downs. Just like life.


I recall Jenny taking part in a tour of sorts, a one lap children’s cycle race on her Raleigh mtb, on the Crystal Palace circuit in South London.   

I can still see her big grin as she pedalled furiously into view down the finishing straight.  She was aged about nine. That was over 20 years ago.

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