I normally don’t drink. When I do drink, I make that joke where you say “I don’t drink normally!” and then pour drink into my ear because I’m pretty funny, and maybe also a dad.
Part of my indifference to alcohol is that the level of intake required to make me lose my inhibitions is only one drink less than the amount required to make me chuck my guts up. Which is very unfair and hard to navigate.
At the after-party of my first world championships at Cali in 2014, we ended up in a club where I was informed that in Colombia you can’t buy spirits by the shot. “You must buy the bottle, miss!” How kind of the Colombian bar staff to share their culture with me, I thought. I’ll buy a bottle and share it with my fine cycling colleagues.
I did not share as much as I should have, I reflected, while throwing up into a paper bag on any of the three flights home the next day.
The good news is I am into cycling and in the cycling world the coffee-drinking culture is far more important than any other kind of drinking. And you know what people do when they go out for coffee? They get cake. Sorry, that was misleading — I’m not that into coffee, it’s the cake I’m after.
Alcohol makes me throw up, caffeine traps a tiny person inside my chest who, for several hours tries to break their way out with a pick axe. But sugar never hurt me.
It’s affected my beach body a little bit, but I gather the booze would give me a belly as well. And if I went to the beach full of caffeine I think I’d try to drown myself. So I’m very much team carrot cake. You know what else is lucky? Power to weight is important for road riders who have to get up mountains and it’s important for track sprinters who have to get off the start line as fast as possible. But to us track endurance riders the most important thing is power to drag. So long as I can still make my belly aero, it’s welcome to come along for the ride.