Rober Millar goes deep into the Pain Cave.

No words survive here, only echoes. Echoes of our hopes, of our plans, of our failures. What we thought we might do when we came here is little more than a shadow; it flickers on the walls for a moment and when we turn to look, it is gone. Doubts swell up and bounce off the walls until they become so loud they can no longer be heard.

Once we’ve entered, we can not return the way we came; the only way out is to descend into the darkness and through to the other side. When we emerge, we will breathe a new life, one where we are able to push a bit harder, and suffer a bit more. It is a better world, one with opportunity. One where we can make things happen because we have discovered a new limit of our will.

Pushing deeper into The Cave is learned over time. When we first enter, we will find ourselves in a small cavern with no apparent exit. As we train and explore its darkest corners, we discover a passage. We gather our courage and slip into a larger, darker cavern to explore. Beyond that, there lies another. Each holds its own unique strain of suffering, but with it comes also a degree of control; the choice to enter is ours and ours alone.

When I’m strong, my mind yearns for the cleansing qualities of The Cave. I feel almost the master of my pain, that I command its ebbs and flows. Even on days that don’t require it, I will hurt myself just to prove I can. When I’m chasing my fitness, however, I approach it with the same reluctance I had as a child when made to eat my vegetables. The suffering flows over me in waves and I am at the mercy of its current.

My training this summer has been erratic and unstructured. I’ve had some great periods, and just as I’ve neared a goal, either illness or travel unexpectedly reared up before me and interrupted my progress. A week away from the bike means another two weeks before I find myself back to where I was. Two weeks of drifting like a leaf in the current. Two weeks of knowing what lies beyond, unable to reach it.

Then the breakthrough, and into the next cavern. It is only through contemplating the darkest corners of The Cave that we discover its deepest passages and it is within the deepest passages that we may discover our purest selves.

Have courage and follow the path into The Cave. Vive la Vie Velominatus.

frank

The founder of Velominati and curator of The Rules, Frank was born in the Dutch colonies of Minnesota. His boundless physical talents are carefully canceled out by his equally boundless enthusiasm for drinking. Coffee, beer, wine, if it’s in a container, he will enjoy it, a lot of it. He currently lives in Seattle. He loves riding in the rain and scheduling visits with the Man with the Hammer just to be reminded of the privilege it is to feel completely depleted. He holds down a technology job the description of which no-one really understands and his interests outside of Cycling and drinking are Cycling and drinking. As devoted aesthete, the only thing more important to him than riding a bike well is looking good doing it. Frank is co-author along with the other Keepers of the Cog of the popular book, The Rules, The Way of the Cycling Disciple and also writes a monthly column for the magazine, Cyclist. He is also currently working on the first follow-up to The Rules, tentatively entitled The Hardmen. Email him directly at rouleur@velominati.com.

View Comments

  • @Velocitractor

    "What's a fekkin' pain cave?"

    On the contrary; I'm sure his thinking was more along the lines of "There's an exit? I must not be able to see it because of all the people I put in there who are blocking the way."

  • @frank Thanks for posting. I never get tired of watching that. It doesn't have the really annoying commentator you usually get. The only good thing about the other version is you can hear the massive gasp of disappointment from the Italian crowd when Kelly catches Argentin and they know their man is screwed!

  • I think you are

    @Buck Rogers

    @wiscot Got to be 1989 tdf when he was with PDM and he won the points jersey for the last time. Photo must have the colours bleached out.

    You can see him in this jersey with same logos, esp the big one on the upper left, in this 1989 Winning mag cover.

    http://www.flickr.com/photos/50737818@N08/5213244716

    I think you are correct good sir. I was so blinded by Kelly's awesomeness that I failed to see that he was in "color" and the background in B&W. In short, it's a horribly manipulated image that has really washed out thee green.

  • @Buck Rogers

    @wiscot Off the cuff: Vuelta climbing jersey??? Isn't that one green? That jersey in that pick could be green?
    No wait, tdf Points jeresy. Has to be.

    Yeah, with it saying "TOUR DE FRANCE" on the shoulder and all...

  • Man, here's Robert Millar rockin' the Frog Skins, on what appears to be l'Alpe. This would have been the year Will Fotheringham brought him the Royce hubs that started my decades-long lust-fest

    Also forgot he was man enough not to ride toe clips.

  • @frank

    @Buck Rogers

    @wiscot Off the cuff: Vuelta climbing jersey??? Isn't that one green? That jersey in that pick could be green?
    No wait, tdf Points jeresy. Has to be.

    Yeah, with it saying "TOUR DE FRANCE" on the shoulder and all...

    HEY!  Coming from a man who used to watch the ""Andy Rooney" show???  What the fuck is the Andy Rooney show anyways? 

    I've heard of The Andy Griffith Show and seen Andy Ronney on "60 Minutes" but I am pretty sure that Andy Rooney was never on the Andy Griffith show! 

    Besides, I was so fuck'in deep in the caffeine haze at that point my fingers could not keep up with my mind!

  • @frank

    This guy is in a dark place, with no flashlight. Via our mate at BigRingRiding.

    This guy makes me suspect that Angus Young used to road race.

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