There are times, on the edge of an amateur race or a club outing, when one wonders if Cycling has not become a small pedal-powered sect. Not a dangerous sect, no: just a joyfully closed brotherhood on itself, with its codes, its customs and its priests in black shorts. We enter it a little by chance, we stay there for love... and we rarely come out unscathed. Because yes, the cyclist builds everything around his passion. Meticulously. Like a little architect of wattsHis life becomes a puzzle, each piece of which must serve the grand plan: ride more, ride better, ride when others are asleep. The uninitiated find this excessive. We call it the discipline.
By Jeff Tatard – 3Bikes.fr / Photos ©3Bikes
The world according to FTP
The cyclist is a being who does not “ride a bike”: he lives by bikeHe knows the seven-day weather forecast, the wind forecast, the composition of his gel, the weight of his wheels, and, above all, the average power of his ride yesterday, which he has already uploaded to Strava before even taking off his gloves. His sociability? Algorithmic.
“Kudos” have replaced handshakes, WhatsApp groups have replaced aperitifs, and discussions have turned to FTP, TSS, and “land base.” Try approaching a cycling dinner with a current topic: you’ll be swept away by a passionate debate on the pros and cons.tagcompared to tubeless ready or tubular tires from the past.
“Tell me what you ride, I'll tell you who you are.” |
Every microcosm has its castes. In our country, cycling is a religion of useful appearance. : the contemplative gravel rider, the purist road rider, the meticulous triathlete, the nervous courier, the philosophical “bikepacker”… In short, everyone preaches their own gospel and looks at others with a mixture of curiosity and slight condescension. A cyclist from route pure juice, this is a guy who calls mountain biking “the other thing”, who says “we go up to the train” to talk about a walk, and who considers that a brunch without glycogen is not a meal.
But the tribe doesn't stop there. The most fascinating thing is how everything else: work, love, friendships, etc., ends up gravitating around the 172,5 crankset and cranks (160 for Poggi). Many choose a job that "leaves time for riding." The most organized invent a tailor-made career: cycling coach, mechanic, photographer, content creator, watted podcaster. Others find love on the bike. It's not inbreeding: it's sentimental logisticsSame passion, same schedule, same smell of warm-up cream.

Why so closed?
Some people accuse cyclists of living in a bubble.. It's a bit true. But it must be said that we're happy there, in this bubble: air, asphalt and a little pain. Cycling, an endurance sport, shapes a monastic ethics : Get up early, eat right, suffer properly. Anything that deviates from the training plan becomes suspect.
And then there is the very concrete dimension: riding at 40 km/h in a peloton is an act of trustYou don't lend your rear wheel to just anyone. It's a matter of survival, not snobbery. The problem is that this safety requirement sometimes turns into comfortable among ourselves : we ride with the same people, we talk with the same people, we gotagand the same Strava… and we forget the rest of the world a little.
Cycling, a mirror of a (very) organized world
But it must be said: This phenomenon is not specific to usThe same closed circles are found among mountaineers, triathletes, jazz musicians, researchers, and high-level gamers. Wherever passion becomes a way of life, it tends to create its own boundaries.
The cyclist, on the other hand, simply has an advantagetage, in addition to his dialect: his bubble rollsIt's airy. And even when closed, it crosses the landscapes at 35 km/h, whereas we had said Z2. Perhaps that's why we feel so free there, while remaining so similar.
Some clichés (which die hard)
|
The bottom line…
Ultimately, this closure is neither serious nor definitive. It speaks of quest for intensityCycling is a language that takes time to speak. And those who have learned it like to speak it among themselves. But there's nothing to stop you from inviting others to join in, provided you slow down a little, take off your helmet on a terrace, and describe your ride in terms other than the number of watts.
Cycling does not insulate. It's our way of making it a fortress that sometimes does. But a platoon is still a community on the move : all it takes is a sign, an outstretched elbow, a wheel bytaged to reopen the route.
What if the real challenge, ultimately, was to pedal hard enough... to avoid going around in circles?
=> Find all our social articles: All articles Mag
=> And for more seriousness (yes, really), take a look at this fascinating study on the identity of the cyclist and his social interactions:Understanding cyclist identity and related interaction strategies – ScienceDirect

