I have never been a natural cyclist. I was not dragged out as a protesting teenager by an over-eager roadie father desperate to relate tales of former glories and pass on advice ranging from breakaway riding to cassette ratio. Sure I spent the 1980s perfecting BMX skills and playing 'chicken' on my yellow Raleigh Burner fitted out with mag wheels and mushroom grips; however road racing, as something I could actually compete in, never materialised and we never crossed paths. I was obviously aware of cycling; the Milk Race, the Tour De France, Robert Millar, and Pete Shelley's iconic title music for the glorious coverage offered up by Channel 4; but, as I say, racing or riding in a group just never happened.

I came to road racing eventually through triathlon. Yes that's right, I was one of those loveable 'jacks of all trades and masters of none' (especially bunch riding). I can vividly recall my first training ride out with some proper roadies. It was cold, probably January or February, it was dry and if memory serves the sun was shining. I knew as soon as I arrived that I should probably not have turned up. Most of the problems were of my own doing, or should I say, could have been prevented if I'd knwn better.

The first problem was the bike. At that time I owned just one bike, and this being a triathlon bike, a Principia 650 (this was when the trend in triathlon was to ride a tiny bike with minuscule wheels even when you were 6ft 2in, as it increased your ability to get up to race speed and maintain it for longer...or something like that). I had also neglected to acquire any leg warmers, knee warmers or bib tights so had my pasty white pins on display; and not only that, they were not shaved. Like I said, I should have not even bothered turning up, my card was well and truly marked.

So with tri-bars on, hairy legs out and a serious feeling of inadequacy we set off. I didn't last long - did I forget to mention that I also had no gloves. I think I managed about 5 miles before my friend realised my hands were turning blue and I was struggling. He kindly lent me his gloves long enough for the colour to return and blood to circulate. The feeling of contempt and disbelief toward me was almost palpable from the five-strong 'chain gang'. I only lasted another few miles before the cold and pure disdain had sunk deep into my bones. I turned back.

I recovered from this initial setback to slowly be ingratiated into my local cycling clique. Kit was bought, bikes were researched and coffee was consumed. I made special effort to understand the subtle nuances and unwritten proclamations that make cycling not only a sport but a lifestyle choice. In those difficult days I was like an inexperienced first year, daunted by big school and all its ritual and ceremony, not wanting to stand out but still wanting to be noticed for my endeavour. In these early days I feel I would have benefitted not only from the abundant anecdotal and verbal advice I was offered, but also from more concrete and evidence-based literary direction.

The Euro Rules

Fast forward 15 years, and through the delights of social media I was introduced to 'The Official Rules of the Euro Cyclist'. This set of, currently, 54 sacraments was created by Dom Guiver and Mike Flavell in 2007. The two Canadian cycling fans and self proclaimed 'Lords of Euro' hope to: 'provide ample guidelines to dabbling cyclists on how to meet the ideals of Euroness through style, riding temperament and of course equipment.' They have given Demi-God status to Mario Cipollini, Ivan Basso and Phillipe Gilbert. They also provide a list of approved bikes, approved apparel and endorsed products including Dirk Hofman Motorhomes, San Pellegrino mineral water and Nutella chocolate-hazelnut spread.

Some of my personal favourites from this list of rules include:

Euro Rule #1 - 'Image and style shall be your primary concern. When suffering, one must focus first on maintaining a cool, even composure, and second on performance. Winning races is an added talent, and only counts if said Euro cyclist wins with appropriate style.'

and:

Euro Rule #12 - 'Ridiculously stylish eyewear (see endorsed products list) is to be worn at all time without exception. Glasses are to be worn over helmet straps at all times.'

Note the precise instruction of the last rule: 'Glasses are to be worn over helmet straps....'. This was the kind of detailed information I had required all those years ago to prevent indiscretions and faux pas resulting in me becoming known as 'the triathlete'! Glasses over helmet straps, because glasses under helmet straps obviously makes you look like a complete amateur. Small details and marginal gains. The marginal gains spoken of here are not those of Team Sky's reduction of drag or an increased power to weight ratio, but a marginal gain of looking like you belong. You are at one with your velo and you fully understand the commitment it takes and sacrifices you have made to look this good; a nonchalant, superior feeling of utter social and sporting dominance.

Enter the Velominati

Around the same time I was also emailed 'The Rules'. Devised by the self-styled Velominati, The Rules have gained fame as a harsh and brash set of laws to which all cyclists Euro, Antipodean or North American must adhere to without question. The Rules are a set of 93 no nonsense, straight to the point guidelines to help all cyclists, novice or professional, achieve style and visceral immortality. First written in 2009, they are constantly being added to as the 'keepers of the cog' attempt to quantify and lay bare the fine art of cycling. Like any organised religion there are many rituals and incantations to be observed. One particularly mantra starts as follows:

'We are the Keepers of the Cog. In so being, we also maintain the sacred text wherein lie the simple truths of cycling etiquette known as 'The Rules'. It is in our trust to maintain and endorse this list.'

Reading this, I am transported to the back of a two-bit local bike shop and down to a darkened cellar. Dim candles and flashing red Cateye lights illuminate a room inhabited by shady hooded figures clutching Joe Friel's Training Bible; a Roman Catholic style thurible filled with SIS Rego wafts incense through the ceremony. Upon the altar are placed the precious things: GT85, a team Peugeot race jersey, Greg Lemond's original Oakleys and in the middle a Zipp disc wheel laid on its side emblazoned with a pentagram etched in rainbow colours...and the incantation goes on and on and on!

This all seems a bit Dan Brown but 'The Rules' themselves are not cryptic, have no hidden meanings and definitely do not point to any secret conspiracy that even Dr Ferrari or Mr Armstrong could have cooked up. On the contrary, there is some sound advice in there:

Rule #86 'Don't half-wheel.

Never half-wheel your riding partners; it's terrible form - it is always the other guy who sets the pace. Unless, of course, you are on the rivet, in which case it's an excellent intimidation technique.'

Rule #70 'The purpose of competing is to win.

End of. Any reference to not achieving this should be referred immediately to Rule #5'

There are many excellent rules, all with generous explanations to quantify the exact meaning to prevent any misdemeanour on behalf of the rider. That is, with the exception of the ubiquitous 'Rule #5'. Known simply as 'The V', Rule #5 is terse and to the point: 'Harden The Fuck Up.'

Four words, no possible misunderstanding. You feel tired? See Rule #5. Wet and cold? Rule #5. You missed the break, you crashed in the bunch gallop, landed on your face, lost two teeth, skinned your legs and cracked a rib? One rule covers all eventualities: Rule #5.

Whose rules to play by?

The problem is, some of the rules in these two separate doctrines appear to contradict each other. For example, Euro Rule #1 quite clearly states: 'Winning races is an added talent, and only counts if said Euro cyclist wins with appropriate style.' Whereas Rule #70 of the Velominati's rules emphatically states: 'The purpose of competing is to win. End of. Any reference to not achieving this should be referred immediately to Rule #5.'

And here lies the problem: what rules should one follow? Which choice is the right one? To throw yet another spanner into the rear mech, while surfing 'on the line' I came across yet more rules! 'The Official English Cyclist Code of Conduct' (TOECCoC), authors unknown, are a set of rules that appear to have been copied and pasted, forwarded, blogged and emailed onto several cycling forums without any acknowledgement to the originators. This is possibly just as well, as the TOECCoC appear to fly in the face of all that is held sacred by other cycling rule books:

TOECCoC rule #4: 'Real English men do not feel the need to shave legs and a thick layer of fur on one's legs should reflect the English Cyclist's image as a hard man. The only exception is TTs, where the excuse given for shaving is "aerodynamic advantage".'

What?! Far be it for me to profess to be a seasoned racer of high level but I have raced extensively around that middle to chipper level and I have raced a shocking amount of criteriums. Criteriums are the bread and butter of any amateur or aspiring neo-pro in the UK, as we have no road races due to an inability to understand that ploughing money into football fields and leisure centres to develop sport is about as forward thinking as investing more and more money, sponsorship and press coverage into an already failing English football team in hope that through nothing other than endorsement and positive thinking they might in fact win something other than an advertising contract for Subway (deep breath....rant over).

Anyway, I have rolled up to the start line in several 'Australian Pursuit' races and sportives alongside chaps who have indeed not 'stripped the bark'. These fluffy-legged fellows appear misguided to a dangerous degree, and most roadies would actively attempt to avoid riding next to them for fear of a possible crash or appearing alongside them in an official photograph and being tainted by association. To turn up to a bike race with hairy legs is possibly the worst faux pas one can make, with the exception of admitting with great vigour that you are a triathlete (personal experience). I have known riders race in full lycra leg warmers on a hot spring day just to hide their embarrassment and avoid obvious derision from fellow competitors because they have not had time to trim their pins. Imagine if you will Fabian Cancellara, the one and only Spartacus, stepping onto the podium at Roubaix; the camera pans down not to reveal a pair of sculpted, smooth and bronzed legs but a pasty pair of hairy tree trunks. It would just be wrong.

And it doesn't end there:

TOECCoC rule #12: 'No eyewear of any kind is to be worn AT ANY TIME.'

How are we to square this edict with Euro Rule #12: 'Ridiculously stylish eyewear (see endorsed products list) is to be worn at all time without exception. Glasses are to be worn over helmet straps at all times.'?

This is a no-no...
This is a no-no...

As I have previously mentioned, 'Euro Rule #12' is one of my personal favourites - not only because eyewear and oversized helmets go together like fat kids and cake, but because they have many purposes alongside the standard protecting eyes from damaging UV rays and preventing debris and detritus from entering your peepers. On a bike, your shades create one half of a cyclist's poker face. This is imperative not only in a race but also on a club run, because once competitors or riding partners sense any kind of weakness the tendency is to put their foot down and increase the suffering.

Eyewear prevents other cyclists seeing that your eyes have actually sunk so far into the back of your head that tunnel vision is anatomically your only option. They prevent the dark rings and hyper-inflated bags being visible, which in turn prevents you being dropped on the first climb when group puts the hammer down in a defiant act to thin out the peloton. In short, eyewear is essential.

Ultimately, I think it comes down to personal choice. You can choose to follow these rules or learn as you go along, correcting mistakes along the way. I do, however, implore you to spend some time reading these rules and decide for yourself if there is indeed any credence to be gained from following them or simply ignoring them.

Do you see yourself as a self-aggrandising narcissist, the next Mario Cipollini, the ultimate 'Euro Cyclist'? Are you the original hard man of the peloton, who treats road rash with a homemade concoction of vinegar mixed with alcohol gel and relishes long training rides in the wind and rain putting your fellow riders in the gutter? Perhaps you see yourself as the classic British tourer, self sufficient and self assured in a world gone mad for fluorescent lycra and carbon fibre. Whichever one you are, the thing that binds us all and holds our divided universe together in harmony is our combined love of cycling. Although the rules, whichever set you follow, can teach us, confuse us and exasperate us, it comes down to one thing: riding bikes is cool.

However, trust me on the shaving of the legs. And if you are worried about your masculinity, see Rule #5.

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