Monday, April 23, 2012


Why cycling and not baseball? Why the bike and not the ball? Why cycling? When a Saturday night you have to leave for home while all the "choir" is going to "party" and they ask: Why are you leaving? And answer: "Tomorrow I train ..." And do you play? I play ... the bike, I'm cycling. Responses were seen on the face of the enquirers, many express admiration, others are curious, others laugh ... until they say "E'te type 't crazy."

The bicycle is the matter that everyone ever used, which you had when you were little predilection, is that so hard and strenuous sport that makes you lose consciousness, able to put the heart at 220 beats, can make you vomit blood .

A sport so hard, and desperate, which have to be patient and have cold blood. Besides having head, not only are legs. The head is needed not only to hold the helmet, but to make you see a trip that takes you to win, that makes you see the lows and weaknesses of the opponent while low by a decline to 60 miles per hour, you does "administer your" not to lose all your energy to halfway.

A sport is a lifestyle, a lifestyle, the sport that offers more personal pride, where only-and I repeat "only" - the effort of your own body makes you able to travel miles and miles, where each training is an improvement, where every day you ride loads a "deck" of new stories, a sport that makes you shine, to reach the top, where for the best team that you're nobody unless you're good, if you have no courage if you have no value.

A sport where you have to have guts. Few rise raining on Sunday at 6 am, because you have to dial "mount". A sport so hard, that falls are part of our business, where the collar bones, stitches, lacerations and battered knees are the daily bread is love for the sport, by bike, by the sacrifice and the suffering that make you fall on a Sunday and run a few days later all pain.

It is a sacrifice that makes you touch the sky, with ascents of 2000 meters above sea level, with only 3 more roads meet, with slopes of 21% which rises or a 4x4, but a man and his sacrifice and Shame stand and hold it to the edge of the infarction, when the taste of blood reaches the mouth if you just think "I am the best", "I am the best", "I raise", "I will achieve it" ...

It's the sport that makes any move, when you win a race, when you climb the highest rise, when you train with a hot sun or heavy rain and return to your home "debarata'o" when you're miles from home to compete, when you ride several times a week when you fall, when you get hurt, when sports a tap into a muscle is 1 month on the disabled list and in cycling run even with a dislocated shoulder when people screaming at you, when you give the show, when you support when you fall and you get to raise, when you miss him more eager than anyone, when you have an illusion, when every day you ride you feel more proud when you grow as a person when it makes you grow ... The bike has given everything, made you see the problems and fix them otherwise. You are of another race, you're cycling.

It gives equal recognition, the press, medals and money, you just want trails, hills, mud. It should be a lot of courage to go down to 65 mph, along a bumpy, loose material, leaving aside only separate you from soil 2 26-inch wheels, fragile, with a resbaloncito hit the ground.

For all that, because you feel proud to wear a jersey with colors, because all you are carrying to be admired, because when you climb a hill and you want to go back home (think "this is not for me," "I for that I am worth "and still there, even with the high heart rate monitor) and ask yourself" Why am I here? Because you're a cyclist, because the only opponent is yourself, because it will be until death, because you are an athlete from head to toe, because you are a sufferer born and you deserve congratulations for their courage.

That is not within this do not know what it is, how people live, as we suffer!