Invertebrate

Out Back, Lanced and Spineless.

Seen Lance's face lately? Like a cornered beast or a caught-out politician, the fear on it is tangible.

A week before the doping-circus broke, I was reading about how high HGH or human growth hormone, gave you a protruding forehead and jaw.

Pommie (hubbie) and I (Dutch parents) argue who came first in evolution:  the short Pomms or the taller Dutch? The dutch, by the way gave their Flemish language to the English, and are still genetically the tallest race on Earth.

Haha! Say I, Dutch people obviously have more natural HGH than Pomms. They are taller, have protruding foreheads, striking jawbones and stubborn chins. I know, I see it in the mirror every time I have to look.

Hmmm. Some cyclists have a protruding forehead and jaw, most noticeable on the podium of the Tour de France. Those amazionan cycling efforts of 200kms per day, each gruelling day in July that suck out every last ounce of (facial) fat. (Now there's a weight loss idea) Or were they on HGH?! Who knows without a positive sample or cyclists telling us what really went on in the peleton, we can only guess.

Hang on, I'm adjusting my helmet, no hands! and my handlebars have twisted while standing at the traffic lights waiting to cross. My bike is on a steep slope and I begin to plummet rapidly to the left. Damned clip-ins - foot - do something!

I have just enjoyed a challenging river loop ride on a gorgeous spring sunday morning with the Pommie. Its taken me nearly 6 months to fix the disk in my lower spine. No hills they say, just gentle riding. Boring Snoring. There are now 6 lanes of traffic I could soon be carpet for, as their light turns green.

At the last minute almost hitting the ground, my foot wrenches out of the cleat and stamps quickly on the pavement saving me from certain death. Hell! I start to uncurl but can't get upright and scream in pain. I can't straighten up, I put my back out. A seriously out back.

Stabbing pain down both legs. And the pommie has to help me get across the road. Bless him. And I make sure I cycle home. Slowly. 'Cause getting there is the thing.

Don't be spineless Lance. We all pick ourselves up after a fall.
Don't destroy the faith we had in you. Tell the truth, clear the past and let cycling move on.
Or maybe there are no 'gods' of cycling. Its we who expect sports people to be super human and thrill us.
There is a god, and there is sport.
Lets Lance that dilusion.