The group is clipping along at a comfortable, yet exhilarating pace. We’re 20 or so strong and I’m sitting mid-pack.
I love being in a paceline with a group of riders who know how to pedal their bikes, and this group is about as good as it gets. It doesn’t happen very often for me, so I am enjoying the shit out of it.
Then the rider next to me turns his head and says to me, “We go on the break.” I immediately know, from the accent, who is there. It’s Eros Poli. The magnificent Eros Poli. The Tour de France stage winning, olympic gold medal winning Eros Poli. The Eros Poli who was the largest rider in the 1994 Tour when he won the stage to Mont Ventoux. The Eros Poli who was Mario Cippolini’s leadout man.
All I can think to say to him is: “No. No, we don’t.”
He shakes his head at me and says, yet again, “We go on the break.”
I, again, shake my head and mutter “No.”
But it is clear his question has turned into a statement and I am about to try and sneak off the front with Eros “fucking” Poli.
Before I can wrap my brain around what is about to happen he reaches over, grabs my jersey pocket and with his immense mitt he pulls me out into the wind.
The one redeeming factor about going on the break with this Italian stallion is he is extremely large in stature. He always seemed very small on the television. But in real life, he is one large man.
I double check to make sure I am in the big ring and climb out of the saddle taking a quick peek up the road to see what the next two minutes of my life are going to look like. Unfortunately, they look like a slightly uphill gradient, followed by a sweeping uphill right hander.
Poli has beat me to 50, but just barely. He let himself go for a minute, but has been training hard, dropping weight and getting his love of the bicycle back in a big way.
He throws himself wholeheartedly into helping me “get away” and I find a sweet spot behind his massive frame. For a second, I can almost imagine what it must have been like having this wheel to follow in the final run up to the line on the Champ Elysees.
Even today his mannerisms on the bike are steady and powerful.
And then the road starts its slight turn upward, my legs start to fail me and my vision turns into a tiny tunnel. I focus on the wheel in front of me and the world around me evaporates. My giant lead out machine has brought me to the line and I am falling apart.
And then it is over. Poli eases up. Our short-lived breakaway is over and I am grateful.
I’m not sure what any of this looked like to the rest of the group, who are all much faster and stronger than I. But for me, for just a brief second, it felt incredibly painful.
For the better part of a week I watched Poli and the stronger riders go up the road without my ass. But on this day I got to show everyone just how out of shape I am and for this I will be eternally grateful.
Eros Poli: I would gladly follow your wheel anywhere. Just point and tell me when we go.
Full Disclosure: I was on a trip with inGamba they call Donkey Week. Since I went on a trip with them last year for an Element.ly story, I have been doing some work with them and they were kind enough to invite me along. This is not a paid advertisement or an endorsement, but I did have a damn nice time with the donkeys.