Le Tour De Invalides

Two, or more, cyclists will always cycle faster than one. That is the golden rule of road cycling, and goes a long way to explaining the tactics adopted by riders and teams. No cyclist, no matter how good they are, can win a road race without the co-operation and support of his team. They call them "domestiques", and like domestic servants, they literally work around their man, making his life in the saddle easier by riding in front so that he can slipstream and conserve energy, keeping him supplied with food and drink, and disrupting attacks from other teams.

I have never ridden a bicycle in my life, but for some reason I enjoy watching cycling. Each year we take my powerchair up the base of "Chappies" and watch the annual Cape Argus Tour. It's the largest timed cycle race in the world with over 35000 starters. We pack a picnic basket, and in between munching on sarmies and coffee, shout and scream encouragement to thousands of sweating humanoids in funny helmets and skin suits who puff and pant their way past us. Those coming through in the morning have the energy to shout back and exchange banter, those coming through in the afternoon have lost their sense of humour altogether!

The pre-race Expo at a local exhibition centre is a showcase of cycling technology and hardware, albeit a frustrating one for us technophiles. Even the most expensive racing bicycle is half the price of an average powerchair, yet the wheelchair is a dinosaur by comparison. The bicycles make use of the very latest design, combined with the highest tech materials. My powerchair has the design sense of a brick, and is made entirely from the crudest and cheapest of old world materials. It's enough to make one weep.

But back to the topic at hand. We also enjoy tuning in to the Tour de France in July, for three weeks and 3500+km of French countryside, sore bums and legs. Watching the world's finest cyclists saddle up for daily races which on their own are huge, but strung together for 21 days are monumental, it is little wonder that doping has been an issue in the race. Despite what many people believe, doping is not a modern phenomenon, and as long ago as 1928 the Tour organisers announced that they would no longer be provide drugs as the competitors were expected to do so themselves. The race places such huge demands on the human body that no mere mortal can finish it un-aided. We've watched it for years, and have come to appreciate the subtleties of the sport, and the enormity of the challenge.

Despite all the organisation, and planning, and skill, and knowledge and experience people get caught out, accidents happen, conditions change, favourites drop out, and unknowns become winners. It really is a condensed view of our lives, the literal ups and downs, trials and tribulations, successes and failures that make up a lifetime. Thirty or sixty years squeezed down into three weeks.

This all sounds somewhat corny, but there are real lessons to be learned from the comparison of the cycle race to our lives, particularly for those of us suffering from muscular dystrophy. Our physical well being varies, and sometimes we feel as if we are cycling uphill and we need to throttle back to regain our strength. Other days the road is more level and we can surge ahead. We're never sure what it round the next bend in the road, or over the crest of the hill. Our race also places huge demands on our bodies, often calling for some "chemical assistance", but most importantly, we cannot meet the challenge without the help of our fellow cyclists, be they family, friends, or domestiques!