Today marks the start of the 98th Tour de France, aka The Tour of Suffering or as others call it, "Tour de Souffrance." In the small French village with a long name of Passage Du Gois Le Barre-de-Monts, 21 teams comprising of 219 lean and underfed, doped-up, finely-tuned bicycle maniacs from around the world will take off in wild abandon for their annual 21 day ode to suffering.
For the next three weeks, these athletes will endure a virtual self-inflicted torture from which most human beings would die. They will endure physical and mental hardships beyond comprehension. They will push their bodies where no body should ever go. They will expose themselves to the weather and wind, to the road, to the topography, to each other and to their own souls. Some previous Tour riders have said of the Tour, "it's like running several marathons a week for three weeks." Think about that line for awhile. In short, they will be punished daily and for what? For the brief moment in time to wear the desired yellow jersey, the "maillot jaune", proclaiming to the world the general classification leader. Crazy? Oui.
Typically, all Tour courses are leg killing. However, this year's Tour course had to be designed by some malevolent soul from a dark moldy cave in Montignac in the southwest of France. Really, riders not only have to cover 2100 miles in 21 days but they have to climb le Galibier twice within 24 hours near the end of the race. Is that necessary? I thought death in sport died in the Middle Ages.
The mountain pass of Galibier is a HUGE CLIMB. Galibier is in the southern region of France near Grenoble. Remember the 1968 Winter Olympics there with France's native son, skier Jean-Claude Killy? Remember those beautiful snow-capped mountains in the French Alps? That's Galibier's neighborhood. It is almost 8700 feet above sea level. It will stage (#18) the highest finish in Tour history. The locals say, it's so nasty "the eagles don't fly up there." Yet these boys will pound those Cervelo pedals over 6-10% gradient upslope for hours to summit that beast of burden. You'd have to be on drugs to do THAT! And at the end of it all, they all hope that yellow jersey will be waiting for them at the top.
Well, good luck boys, watch out for potholes and curbs and may the French gods keep you all safe on your journey through the belle French countryside.
See you in Paris on July 24.
Au revoir.
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