I thought that tonight I would write about Lance Armstrong.  Before I had cancer, I knew virtually nothing about either Lance Armstrong or professional bike racing.  Then, while I was ill, my then GP, a really excellent doctor, suggested I might like to read one of his books.  She also suggested several others, including the wonderful John Diamond.  With some trepidation I bought "It's not about the bike" and devoured it.  To my surprise I found it utterly gripping and the following summer for the first time I watched the Tour.  I was completely hooked and since then have been a devoted lover of the Tour, and pro bike racing in general.  Most sports leave me utterly cold, but bike racing, especially the Grand Tours has so many layers of complexity, that it is addictive to watch, study and analyse.  

In the following years, I went on to read "Every Second Counts" and I also bought the excellent Daniel Coyle book "Tour de Force" which gives an informed and at times very funny insight into the world of bike racing.  

I've been very inspired in particular by Lance Armstrong's cancer campaigning, and have been a proud wearer of the Livestrong armband for a number of years.  God knows, especially considering my previous post, cancer is a horrible disease and there are many charities campaigning and fundraising for different aspects of prevention, drug research, patient care and support.  

What I especially liked about the Livestrong campaign is that it is aimed especially at supporting cancer survivors - it has really done so much to raise the profile of survivors.  Lance in particular has also rewritten the cancer rulebook.  Typically, and this is still the case, when a person gets cancer, there is a sort of narrative that people use.  For a start, they use words like battle, fight, war, as though the cancer were an actual enemy.  Cancer patients also get told they are "brave" - no, we are not brave, we have no choice in the matter.  And once you are in that box marked "brave cancer patient" there is a dreadful unwitting patronage going on.  

Lance took this, shook it out, kicked it and spat in its face.  He basically said "Yes, I've had cancer, but don't you dare feel sorry for me, and by the way, I'm the best bike rider on the fucking planet."  Pink ribbons, this is not. 

Over the years, the drugs allegations have swirled around - nothing new there.  Earlier this year, when I read the initial USADA case, I just thought "More of the same".  I discussed it with Andrew, and said to him at a very early stage that I didn't regard Floyd Landis and Tyler Hamilton as being entirely credible but the key figure for me was George Hincapie.  Ironically, George retired at the end of this season, after a phenomenally successful biking career, much of it in Armstrong's Tour-winning team as one of his trusted super-domestiques.  George for me was pivotal, since he has never had a public falling out with Armstrong, had been close to him for many, many years  and was now retiring so had nothing to lose or gain by telling the truth.  

Anyway, first came the news that Armstrong was not fighting the USADA any more, and then they released the evidence dossier, and one night, I sat up late into the night, glued to the computer, reading it.  Having now read it, only an idiot would believe Lance didn't dope.  Crucially, Hincapie has testified saying not only that he himself took drugs, but that he saw Lance taking them many times.  

Since then, I've read Tyler Hamilton's book, Secret Race, co-written with Daniel Coyle again, and that is even more damning.  The book is remarkably detailed and gives a very credible account of the doping culture inside the peloton.  In particular, Hamilton details that far from being a short cut, doping is actually expensive, time consuming and a constant worry for those doing it, and also still has to be only part of what is a hellishly rigorous training, exercise and diet schedule.  What both the book and the USADA report illustrate in jaw dropping style in particular was just how easy the pro riders found the evasion and cheating of the testing regime, with all sorts of neat workarounds.  

Now the news has come in that Armstrong has been officially stripped of his titles.  Firstly, I'm not really sure this will work - practically every other top rider in the peloton at the time was doping (many have been caught at some point) and I don't think it's helpful to engage in too much historical revision.  The past really is another country.  

I do think he should be banned from competing in the future, and from having anything to do with the training or development of young riders.  The testing authorities really need to get their shit together in regard to the testing programme.  

On a personal level, as just one of many cancer survivors around the world, who had been inspired by his story, I still am, to an extent but simply feel sad and let down that Armstrong lied for so long. He could have done so much to change the climate in the peloton around the issue of drugs and doping.  In the future, his lying and cheating will also deprive him of a future role in shaping and fighting for cancer survivors, and possibly into politics.  He is a talented, gifted, hard working, smart man, and it's genuinely disappointing that potential has now been spoiled.  

It's eight years this week since my life was changed by my cancer diagnosis.  I am grateful for every single day I've had since then, for the very precious gift of life.  I will always be grateful to Lance for helping me through some very dark times afterwards, but so sorry that his flaws have prevented him from enjoying the full fruits of his labours.