Bytager the publication "Nicolas Bodin launches into the diagonal of the heart"
There is something calm in Nicolas Bodin's voice, a simple, slightly dreamy way of speaking that makes you want to listen. You can feel in him the gentleness of teachers who know how to transmit their knowledge, but also an inner strength, almost stubborn, that of those who get up every morning with a clear goal: to do a little good around them. This Saturday, October 18, Nicolas sets off on a 1700-kilometer journey across France. He has named it The Low Density Diagonal, a name which, in itself, already says a lot: the taste of the territory, of slowness, of routeforgotten villages that we pass through without seeing them and yet where life still beats...
By Jeff Tatard – Photos: @nikovelotour / NIKOVELOTOUR.COM
But behind this extraordinary sporting challenge, there is another fight, infinitely greater: that of the School at the Hospital association, which accompanies sick children so that illness does not cut them off from knowledge, curiosity, and the world. It is for them that Nicolas pedals. Every meter, every climb, every fatigue will have a meaning: that of paying tribute to these children who fight, to these teachers who continue to teach in hospital rooms, and to these volunteers who bring light where everything could darken.
A card, a girl, a click
It all started with a banal dinner in a family kitchen... On the wall, an old map of France, a little yellowed, the kind that used to hang in classrooms. Nicolas keeps it there as a nod to his job as a school teacher, and no doubt also as a reference point, a reminder of what he teaches his students every day.
That evening, one of his daughters looks up at the map and asks him:
- " Dad, which city have you never cycled through? »
He thinks for a moment, then replies: “ Saint-Dizier, I think... »
She immediately replies: “ Do you know that this city is in the diagonal of the void? »
The word strikes him. The diagonal of emptiness. A concept learned in geography class, which refers to that large strip of French territory where the population density is lowest. But in this childish remark, Nicolas hears something else: a promise of adventure, of discovery, and a sort of homage to these territories that we no longer look at, but which form the beating heart of the country.
That day, he was due to leave for a charity Paris-Luxembourg trip to benefit L'École à l'Hôpital. He ultimately backed out in order to look after his daughter. It was at that precise moment that the turning point happened: " I said, "I'm in. It will be a new challenge, a new way of working for the association, and perhaps a way to reconnect with what I love most: meeting people." »
That same evening, he immersed himself in readings about the diagonal of emptiness. And in his head, the journey had already begun.
A diagonal full of meaning
The name of the challenge, The Low Density Diagonal, is not trivial. It is a poetic counterpoint, a way of reminding us that what we call “emptiness” is often full of riches: stories, accents, solidarities, landscapes.
For Nicolas, it is a France with a human face : that of the village cafés where people still take the time to talk to each other, of the bakeries that open at dawn, of the routebordered by fields, territories that are said to be “forgotten” but which only ask to be looked at. I believe that by crossing this France, we better understand the country we live in. We discover passionate people, projects, villages that are being reborn... And I like to give meaning to my journeys by placing them under the sign of encounter. »
This is not a race, nor a quest for performance. It is an inner as well as outer journey, a way of reconconnect both to the territory and to oneself.
School at the Hospital, a promise kept
Behind the challenge, there is a cause. And behind the cause, a personal story. About ten years ago, one of his daughters was hospitalized for a week. By chance, in the hospital corridors, Nicolas came across volunteers who work with hospitalized children to continue teaching them, supporting them, and maintaining that fragile link between school and life. Their dedication had overwhelmed me. I had promised myself that one day I would do something for this association. »
Since then, each of Nicolas's sporting projects has been dedicated to the School at the HospitalAnd if his body provides the effort, it is his heart that gives the direction.
Solo preparation
There's nothing professional about all this. No staff, no support car, no logistics partner. Just one man, his bike, and a lot of conviction. The idea for the diagonale only came to him at the end of summer. So since September, Nicolas has been stringing together long rides, a few charity races, and running sessions to keep the cash flowing.
But he also leaves with the experience of a summer 3500 kilometers away on the routes of France, meeting the inhabitants and the landscapes. It is a real cyclist, of those who know that at 18 p.m., in a small town, hunting for food becomes a sport in its own right.
He prepares each stage, identifies possible drop-off points: hostels, warmshowers, private individuals, sometimes even a bus shelter or a bank entrance. Often I sleep where the route poses me. It's not always comfortable, but that's also what makes it so beautiful. »
The Call of the Southwest
When asked which portion appeals to him the most, he doesn't hesitate: arrival in HendayeAfter hundreds of kilometers crossing France from northeast to southwest, touching the Basque coast will have a special flavor. It's the most southwesterly point in France. And then we pass through villages that smell of rugby, that parochial sport I played. »
But before that, there will be the Tulle-Montauban, the stage he dreads the most. A lot of elevation gain, a long distance, and that feeling of crossing “the void”. He smiles: “ This is exactly what I came for. »
Alone, but never isolated
Riding without assistance is a choice. A bet on yourself, a pact with solitude. It means managing your sleep, your food, your breakdowns, your doubts. It means trust yourself and the route, accepting that you can only count on what you have in your bags... and in your heart. It's like in life: you have to make choices. Don't take on too much. Find the right balance. Everything is more complicated without a support car, but everything is more beautiful too. »
Fatigue? He manages it with micro-naps, sometimes on the edge of the route. Loneliness? He transforms it into encounters. Because in every village, there is always someone to ask him where he comes from, where he is going, and why he is doing all this. And these exchanges, however brief they may be, are for him the true reward of the journey. I'm not afraid of loneliness. What I fear most is running out of water or food. But even that, you learn to manage. »
The Professor and the Cyclist
Nicolas is a schoolteacher. And it shows in his manner, in the quiet rigor he applies to everything he undertakes. Before leaving, he checks every detail: lights, equipment, GPS tracks. But he also knows how to let go. Mistakes along the way, unexpected events, encounters—all of these are part of the journey. It is also a form of reverie that is good to cultivate. "Rigor, yes. But also poetry.
The cause, the passion and the resilience
In his eyes, one senses the sincerity of a man possessed. He speaks of the cause with respect, without pathos. He speaks of cycling with gratitude. For him, cycling is a tool for freedom, connection and resilience. " I don't compete. What I love is traveling, both internally and externally. It's about reaching out to others, connecting with others, and understanding life elsewhere. And cycling helps me get through tough times and emerge from difficulties. Every journey is a form of resilience. "He does not seek to prove, but to cross — the country, the weather, and its own flaws.
The civic gesture
At the end of each stage, Nicolas will practice the plogging, this activity which consists of picking up rubbish while running. A small gesture, but a great symbol. I read an article about it a year ago, and I experimented with it for a month. It made an impression on me. And I told myself I could do it for my challenge. Because one commitment doesn't prevent another. "It's his way of reminding that effort is only valuable if it serves something greater than oneselfThat sport, at its core, is a tool for education, connection, and sometimes repair. Sport must show that anything is possible, regardless of your level. It must also remind you that you can give your strength and your time to serve a cause. »
An ideal of society
When you listen to him, you realize that Nicolas Bodin is a utopian, but the active kind. Not the one who dreams with his arms crossed, but the one who pedals to prove that things can change. He even has very concrete ideas: " Why not tax transfers in professional sport at 1% to finance associations and clubs? "It's not a joke. It's a conviction. To give meaning, time, and a little justice to a world that sometimes lacks it.
What adventure teaches him
When he talks about what this challenge teaches him, he doesn't talk about watts, speed or performance. He speaks of dreams, humility, transmission. " It teaches me to dream by charting my own course. It teaches me humility because nothing is ever a given. It teaches me resilience, to believe that the best is always ahead. And I hope it will inspire my children, show them that anything is possible, as long as you put your heart into it and serve others. »
A trace in the conscience
What Nicolas hopes is not that he will be remembered, but what his story will have awakened in others. When someone tells me that my meeting has given them back their faith in a less selfish world, I tell myself that I have won the day. » So yes, if his adventure can encourage someone to get back into sport, to give their time, to sort their waste, to reduce their flights... they will say to themselves that it was all worth it.
A Teacher's Lesson
If he were to address a child, a young person, a reader, Nicolas would not seek to preach. He would simply say: " Go for it. Go for it. Build your project, and you'll be proud of it. Some will tell you it's pointless or crazy. But if you find meaning in what you do, then that's the most important thing. And even if you fail, you'll have already won. » Perhaps this is, ultimately, the diagonal of low densities: a path where the density of humanity is at its maximum.
Epilogue
In a few hours, Nicolas will take the routeAlone, without assistance, with his bags, his maps, and his smile. He will cross forests, plains, hills, villages with modest names, cafes where they still serve half a pint by hand. He will talk, listen, pick up trash, take breaks on benches, and sometimes sleep under the stars.
And every morning, as he gets back in the saddle, he will think of these hospitalized children for whom learning is an act of resistance, of these teachers who continue to teach despite the walls, of these volunteers who remind us that solidarity is not an empty word.
Yes, Nicolas Bodin is going to draw his diagonal. But what he is really drawing is a map of the heart, that of a France which still advances through the strength of courage, connection and kindness.
