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13-05-2008 16:31
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DRUGS AND CYCLING: THE INSIDE STORY
One year ago, if I had read a headline that promised to tell the inside story about drugs and cycling, I would have been sceptical. That's because very few professional cyclists are prepared to give that inside story. To do so is to break the law of silence. If I am breaking that law today, I am doing so because I am an ex-pro.
My name is Paul Kimmage. I doubt if you have heard of me. I was a team rider for four years. If I had won the Tour de France there would be no need to introduce myself, but if I had won I wouldn't have written this. I was a sensible, strong-willed, good Catholic Irishman, and I would have sworn on any Bible that I'd have never taken illegal substances. But when I entered the system, all that changed.
Professional cycling in Europe is so hard. As an amateur I never needed anything stronger than a vitamin С drink. But as a professional it was all different. It was all day, every day. There is much less time to rest and your body runs down. Soon you're reaching for things stronger than vitamin С.
It happened during the Tour de France. I was riding well the first week, but then started running out of gas. The time had come for some serious decision making. Most of my team¬mates were getting regular injections, and they seemed to be wearing much better than I. If I had stuck to my principles I would have been forced, through exhaustion, to abandon the
Tour. So I took an injection — nothing illegal, just some vita¬min В with iron. But the significance was that I had made the first step.
It was exactly one year later that I took my first charge of amphetamine [sem'fet9mi:n]. I rode 20 stages of the Tour de France, but abandoned, totally exhausted, with four days remaining. I was sick about it, destroyed with guilt. I couldn't even face training. But nine days later I got a phone call. It was an invitation to race the next day in Chateau Chinon ['/setsu 'tfrn], a small French village. If I raced, the organiser would pay me $600. I couldn't afford to say no.
I hesitated. There was never any dope control at these races, and I knew most of the pros would be charging. I hadn't ridden for ten days. How would I keep up? And if I didn't fin¬ish, the promoter probably wouldn't pay me. And damn it, I needed the money, and there was no control. So I agreed. The effects were startling. Once the drug took hold, my character transformed. I felt a maddening urge to jump on my bike and ride all day. I didn't win. But I rode remarkably well.
Was I cheating? No, I was not. I was using the system. There was no dope control. If there had been, none of the riders would have used amphetamine. You see in professional cycling the sin is not in taking drugs, it's in getting caught. And the reason why drug abuse is so prevalent is because the inter¬national federation of professional cycling refuses to face the realities of modern sport — that honour and morals are dead.
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