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| Review: Need For the Bike by Paul Fournel |
| 04.22.04 (8:02 pm) [edit] |
If you are a serious cyclist, and you know if you are, then you want this book. Trust me. It says everything there is to know about the "real" cyclist in prose that reads like poetry. Go get it -- now.
Now that the "real" cyclists have left I can talk to the rest of you. If you are the significant other of a cyclist you need this book. This book reveals more about the thinking of cyclists than any other I have ever read. Trust me. Reading this book is perhaps the best way to get inside the head, to look behind the curtain of someone who is cycling obsessed. If you already know your significant other has a serious cycling problem, then go get this book -- now. If you are not sure, here are some warning signs of advanced bicycling disease.
One note of caution, I can only describe the male of the species Cyclist moronicus. Although I have met and talked to several serious females of the sport, my understanding of female behavior and motivation ranks slightly below my fluency in ancient Sanskrit. So it will be the more common male C. moronicus described here.
Clothing: A typical male thinks that $15 is alot to spend on a pair of dress pants, cyclists think even that is too much. But a cyclist will gladly fork over $120 for a pair of black lycra shorts. Black lycra shorts with suspenders built-in. Black lycra shorts with suspenders whose legs come to the top of the knee. Certainly an attractive look for a middle-aged man.
Generally, cyclists will launch into a rant at the mere mention of Exxon-Mobil, Microsoft or any other large corporation. But we will gladly pay $60 and more for a shirt (excuse me, I mean "jersey", of course) which amounts to a slab of gaudy polyester fabric slathered with advertising. Advertising for such well known and totally cool companies as Banesto and Credite Agricole. With pockets in the back. I'll spare you the discussion of shoes.
Diet: Mention "Atkins" to a cyclist and they will start twitching and foaming at the mouth. A "real" cyclist's diet consists of between 75 and 95 percent carbohydrates. More, if they can get them. If your significant other comes back from the grocery store with 96 boxes of spaghetti noodles, three cans of tomato sauce and a crate of bananas, he probably is a cyclist. Especially if he says this is just to hold him for a couple of days, until he can "do some real shopping." I once read an interview with a semi-pro cyclist who said he put orange juice instead of milk on his Froot Loops at breakfast. "I need the carbs," he explained. I am not making this up.
General Health: Fortunately for the simple mind of C. moronicus his state of health boils down to one number: Resting Pulse Rate. Cycling is one of the most aerobically demanding sports and even moderate cycling will give you the cardiovascular system of an bull elephant. Even a fat, lazy, slob such as myself can achieve a resting pulse in the low 40s (around 70 is normal). Once achieved the number becomes an obsession. A five beat per minute rise over this abnormally low reading can convince a cyclist to spend the day in bed fearing either the onset of illness or the dreaded "over-training syndrome."
Cyclist's Tan: The tan is absolutely distinctive and diagnostic. A cyclist gets a deep dark tan from spending so many hours outdoors. Unfortunately the tan has a, well, unusual pattern. The tan extends from 4 inches below the shoulder to the wrist, from just above the knee to the ankle and the back of the neck. Everything else is almost bleached white. You do not want to see a cyclist in a swimsuit. Not that they would be caught dead in one, unless they are competing in a triathalon to "get some extra miles."
Scheduling How is it that a guy who has trouble getting his eyes open for a nine o'clock meeting in February, is out the door at 5:30 a.m. in May? Then when you get home, you see his car in the driveway. You worry: is he sick? He hasn't been home early in months. As you open your car door he rolls in on his bike. "Didn't I hear you go out this morning?" you ask. Looking like a catburglar in the beam of a flashlight, he'll mumble something like "Ummm, yeah, well, I just felt like I needed a few extra miles..."
Following the Pros Try reading these names to your significant other, don't worry about the pronounciation, he'll correct you: Cippolini, Ullrich, Indurain, Merckx and Hinault. He'll probably reel off about a hundred more. He'll probably start with one name I left out: Armstrong. Even non-cyclists know of Lance Armstrong, but if you want to double check to see how sick he is, just say "What was it with Lance on Sestriere?" (If your cyclist is not handy as you read this I will briefly relate the story. At the 1999 Tour de France, Armstrong was making a comeback, a comeback literally from the door of death itself. Just two years earlier he had been diagnosed with cancer, which had metastisized to his lungs and brain. Now he was leading the world's greatest bicycling race, but it was early. Climbing the mountain leading to the ski resort at Sestriere, Armstrong suddenly accelerated and left behind not only his rivals, but seemingly the laws of gravity itself. He not only hit a home run, but the ball tore through the roof of a domed stadium. A real cyclist seeing this doesn't stand up and cheer, but rather sits with mouth agape in silent awe, wondering if maybe, if you look hard enough, you can see the angels, or alien spaceship -- you make the call -- that carried him to the peak that day. Back to the story in progress.)
If your significant other exhibits two or more of the above signs and symptoms, you already know you are in trouble. Fournel's beautiful little book Need for the Bike will let you know more about the disease and maybe even help you to understand your pitiful cyclist. The books fits in the palm of you hand like a hymnal and in 150 pages Fournel expounds extremely lucidly about all the mysteries of the bike.
Fournel's work is translated wonderfully from the French by Alan Stoekl, who writes in the introduction "... Fournel presents a world, a very personal one, whose axis is the bicycle. It is world of communication, of connection where all people and things pass by way of the bike." We are walking on hallowed ground here, believe me.
The book is a series of short essays ranging from one to three pages in length on a wide variety of subjects about and related to cycling. Although written in prose, the words are dripping with meaning, symbolism and feeling. The sensation of reading it is much closer to poetry. As Dylan once sang "Every one of them words rang true and flowed like burning coals, pouring off of every page like they were written in my soul." Not grammatical perhaps, but you get the point.
There is no cyclist alive who did not feel as Fournel writes in "Light Weight:"
Sitting on the seat, not carrying the weight of one's body, makes bike riding something like swimming, something like flying. The saddle carries you along, like water, like air: it's the saddle, but also the frame, and the tires and the compressed air in the tires that give you wings.
The difference between bike and flight is that the bike is possible and flight isn't, yet. Every bike fanatic's journey begins there.
Once started Fournel explores so many aspects of cycling it is hard to encapsulate. On every page there is a moment where the response can only be "yes, exactly" Every cyclist who has ridden more than a couple of times a week has felt this way:
In the morning I'm completely stiff, a rusty old wreck; I have trouble getting down the stairs. Without strength or desire I get on my bike, and pedal like an old robot. Ten kilometers later, that's all gone. I feel fine. I feel even better than the day before...
Yes. Exactly.
Every cyclist who has ridden for several years, especially years beyond their thirties has felt this way as well:
Getting old with the bike means gaining endurance and wisdom. It's having the ability to go further more calmly, to train better, and, in general, get more out of it. Therefore I've entrusted my bike with the mission of notifying me of my aging. It's doing nicely.
I'll only quote one more nugget from this rich vein, there are many, many more between the covers of this slim volume:
Riding is absurd -- climbing to descend, going in circles, behind this mountain there's another, why hurry? ...Riding is absurd like peeling vegetables, skiing, thinking deeply or living.
Fournel says that thinking this thought on the bike is a sure sign of fatigue, but in my easy chair, I know and understand.
Yes, if you have a cyclist sicko in your life you need this book. Read it and you will understand them a bit, no, much more. Or better yet, get the book and read it out loud to your partner. Yes, out loud. Just one or two essays a night. Hearing your voice expounding and explaining the mysteries and majesties of cycling will work a deeper magic. Giving voice to these elegantly stated deep truths will make your partner feel that you really understand The Need For The Bike. And maybe you will.
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