The evolution of a (Kenyan) Cyclist - Newbie to Addict - Final Part

 For part 2 click here........

“My father ‘racist’, my mother ‘racist’, my uncle ‘racist’ – Kenyan runner”

NB: Let it be noted that the word ‘racist’ in this case has nothing whatsoever to do with someone who discriminates upon others because of their race. It is a corruption of ‘racer’, and is based on the  assumption that the noun form of a verb should end with ‘ist’ a good example being cycle (verb) whose noun form is cyclist.

Just so we are clear.

Moving on swiftly….

Stage 14: Your first (real) training ride

You now know a few people in the Kenyan cycling community. People who you believe have hidden motors within their bikes. After a couple more 100-km rides you feel ready to go out on that training ride that the ‘pro guys’ have been trying to convince you to join them in. You make the call, a date is set. 

It’s D-day: you ride to the starting point; you are informed that you will be covering 50 Kilometers only. You get disappointed and make this known, “I thought it would be longer”. Everyone giggles at your ‘youthful exuberance’. The ride starts, you are able to keep up for the first 5 Km but this is only the warm-up. The pace begins to pick up and that’s when you discover new parts of your anatomy. You try to keep up but it’s pointless. At the end of the ride you go back home feeling slightly violated but motivated at the same time.

Sam 'the tourist' Ouma at the VeloNos SBITT3. Credit Moses Kamwere

Stage 15: Your first race

You are on the Kenya cycling Facebook page one day then you see it: a nicely done poster advertising an upcoming race. You have definitely been thinking about trying your ‘leg(s) at racing’ but for one reason or another, there has always been a perfect reason (excuse) not to. One time it was your bike, the other it was the death of your pet monkey, this other time it was too hot. For whatever reason however, this time round, the urge to do it finally overwhelms your never ending ‘proverbs’. You call your cycling mentor (most people have one) for advice and he/she tells you to get on with it. It’s the kick you have always needed and so with no further consideration you send the registration fee to the number provided. You can’t believe you just did that. But what the heck! On race-day you dress in your best kit and head to the event location. 

The sight that greets you is intimidating: from the bikes to the kits to the lean-mean bodies. Before you can even think of changing your mind, you hear someone screaming “race briefing”. 5 minutes later the car horn blares and the race is on. 

Kinja (Sossi) and Gichora (Kenya Riders) Kenya's bike racing royalty. Credit: Kamwere

Good lord they are going so fast! You try to keep up but a few Kilometres in you realize that it’s pointless; you decide to tone it down, find a few other saner racers and simply survive to the finish. After a few hours the torture is over, your body is covered in salt and you could swear that you saw Jesus at some point during the race. 

Final Stretch VeloNos SBITT 3. Credit: Moses Kamwere

3 bananas and a few pints of water later you feel well enough to socialize and that’s when you get schooled on the science of training and racing. The road-bike discussion comes up again but this time you are more receptive, the idea doesn’t sound so outrageous. Your mind has been completely altered, your body battered - a road bike must be the solution to all your problems. It’s just money.

Stage 16: Your first road bike

If you follow the correct advice and are lucky enough to be surrounded by genuine people, your first road-bike will be good enough for racing, not the best but good enough. You will hand over the cash quickly so that you don’t change your mind midway through the transaction. If it’s late in the day you will rush back home and stare at it for several hours and maybe even share your bed with it. The next day you will get on it and realize just how fast it accelerates.  What follows will be a feeling of fear and excitement and you will love it.

Stage 17: The addict

This is the final stage, you have now been cycling on Kenyan roads and trails for a few years. A good number of the following points most probably describe your life.

• You look at newbies and smile remembering that a while back, that’s exactly where you were. Some even look up to you now.  

• You try and find time to ride whenever you can even if it means calling in sick from work.

• You register for pretty much every race even the ones that require you to drive several hundred kilometers out of town like the Great Rift Valley Challenge. 

• Even if you don’t always race, you attend most cycling events just to support other riders

• You absolutely don’t care about the costs/logistics of getting to races or big social rides.

• If strava shows 59KM at the end of your ride, you will clip back in and find that one KM to make 60. Even if it means riding around in circles.

• You own almost as many cycling shoes as actual shoes.

• You have had to drop certain friends because you no longer speak the same language (cycling).

•  Nights out with friends no longer appeal to you as much because hangovers and 200KM rides don’t go well together.

•  Most of your weekends are planned around long rides, everything else is a distraction

• You have a very expensive addiction to carbon fiber.

Swift Carbon at the H2H 4 (2018). Credit Moses Kamwere

• You have a mountain bike, a road-bike and are probably on the market for another bike (N+1).

•  You have a few scars on you indicating the number of times body has met tarmac and you take pride in them. 

• You frequently speak the language of watts and watts/KG (for those obsessed with training and racing performance)

•  You have a favourite pro rider and team. 

•  You follow all the 3 Tours from Day 1 to Day 21.  

• You watch all the Spring Classics including the Paris-Roubaix which can last well over 6 hours – start to finish. 

•  You are leaner, faster and everyone in your family insists that you should represent Kenya at the Tour de France. You laugh; they simply don’t understand how it works. 

Congratulations, you are now permanently addicted to cycling. It doesn’t matter what happens to take you off the bike for whatever period of time, you will always get back on it.