there is something pure and painful

About watching a massive mountain stage like last night.

(Bettini)

Full credit to Andy Schleck who rode a tactically and technically amazing race. Equal credit to Cadel who is – despite criticisms to the contrary – for my mind an amazing and exciting rider. Determined and resolute.

Do take the time to watch the full(er) round up on SBS.

In stages like this, when I see riders like Contador farewelling expectations of another successful tour, or Voeckler grimacing to the finish line, or any number of other contenders really struggling against what is possible or even plausible to achieve with your body – I get a really strange and transcendent feeling.

This may sound completely weird, for a sport which is marked by such huge amounts of money, such persistent allegations of doping and  (objectively speaking) such dumb outfits. There’s a lot to support to the idea that professional cycling (and the watching of it) is a sport for dudes with too much money and too much time and too much tight clothing. And sometimes I really do agree.

Other times, I can ignore it all. I don’t see the shouting crowds, I don’t really notice the scenery, I don’t even really hear Phil and the pedal stamping or the yo-yoing, I feel the way I feel when I watch Sufi Muslims spinning: somewhat lost, somehow confused and oddly transfixed.

Could be that I was half asleep. Could be that it was an amazing demonstration of what you can achieve with the human body, particular when the precise balance of its physical and mental limitations and capacities are at their limits.

I try not to overthink it, I just like to feel the presence of profane gods while I watch things spin.