I found my old diary.
How I signed for Axeon while on a drunk night out, and so much more...
Moving to France as a naive nineteen-year-old, to getting a call from Axel Merckx and agreeing to sign while on a drunk night out in France, and somehow managing to pick up every injury going in my U23 years.
Three years ago, I collated all of my writing over the years into one document and then started writing entries in real time too. It was heavily influenced by some of Phil Gaimon’s work. It became the place I’d write when I didn’t want things to be out in the open.
Reading back, I’m having strange emotions. I can see in some of the entries where an injury pops up which would take months to diagnose and fix. I can see the naivety of a young Joe who felt a bit lost. I can see the dreamer, I can see the kid that I was.
I’m disappointed that I didn't carry on doing this style of writing. I let it fizz away in the middle of 2022, instead, going to individual articles. I might collate everything together again.
Anyway, I just found this document again, deep in my Google Drive. It’s a treasure trove of how I was feeling at the time. The original idea behind collating it all was to get the workings of a book someday. The document has 35,000 words in it and I titled it ‘The Accidental Dream’. I’m going to give some excerpts here.
17th Jan 2020:
Moving to a new country is special. There’s the thrill of a new town, new training roads and a new life. But there’s the heartbreak of leaving loved ones at home and, for weeks on end, communicating through a screen. I’m 19 years old and I’ve taken the step to move, not only out of the family home but to France.
I’ve moved away to pursue the dream, a World Tour contract. What many don’t realise is the dream isn’t always what it’s made out to be. I’m living in a town in the Rhone-Alpes region, the mountains stretch for miles around and I’m a stone’s throw away from some hidden gems of French cycling, it’s paradise.
There is a small issue; je ne parle pas francais. Yep, I decided to move without knowing the language. I’m riding for the AG2R La Mondiale U23 Squad, there’s myself, an American, a Swede, and 13 French riders so it’s safe to say I need to learn the language rapidement.
? September 2020
It’s late summer, or maybe early autumn. COVID still exists but it’s in the rear view mirror. I’m struggling to pedal my bike. Nobody knows the issue, I’m COVID negative and my blood tests are fine but I’m fucked.
I don’t know if it’s mental burnout or what, but I’m struggling to pedal 5-minutes down the road or get out of bed. Maybe I’m just too skinny. I’ve made the call to pull out of the next block of races. The team will later pull me in for a meeting telling me how they think it was unprofessional as there was nothing wrong with me.
After a few days in bed without training, the weekend arrives where the apartment building where we live is empty as all the boys are away racing. I’m starting to feel myself again, and a message pops up on my phone from the group chat that I’m in with the Scots.
Let me explain: ‘The Scots’ are Beth, Sophie and Findlay, three Scottish Erasmus students who are studying in Chambery. Beth put a post in the “Foreigners in Chambery” Facebook group that they were going to be moving out late summer, and I replied. We all hit it off immediately, aided by the fact that we’re all the same age, British and living in this strange country.
I digress, a message came in asking if I wanted to go down to Lac du Bourget for an afternoon with the Erasmus students. Just hang out in the sun, listen to music, go swimming, the normal stuff. I reluctantly said yes, the professional athlete inside telling me it’s the wrong thing to do.
The professional athlete inside of me was wrong, It was the best thing I could’ve done. All of my worries were forgotten as we threw a frisbee around, jumped in the crystal blue water of Bourget and exchanged stories in the late summer sun. Was it this simple to getting better?
Maybe I’m not sick, maybe sometimes it’s just important to have fun and live like a normal 19-year-old.
? October 2020
The end of the season is here. After crashing out of my last race and getting a headache. I quickly called it a day. The following days were spent in dark rooms, before finally feeling better and coming out of my cage. I became a tourist, heading to Annecy for the day to see Shoddy. August and I headed to Lac du Bourget for a hot chocolate by the lake. Winter is well and truly on its way as we sit there in a little cafe with the mountains overlooking us.
The end of the season also means nights out. The first night out to be had was with the Scots. I can’t remember the occasion, ‘just because’, I guess. But it will go down as one of the best nights out in my life.
It starts at Findlay’s place watching the Scottish Cup final, a few beers in, we move to another room before finally heading into Chambery itself. We’ve been to a fair few bars, and I’m three or four pints deep by this point. It's 11pm, and a message pops up on my phone from Axel Merckx, “Are you free to call”, was the gist.
Now, it’s 11pm, I don’t have a solid contract signed and Axel Merckx wants to call - he’s in Canada, hence the timing. I head into the bathroom and try to sober up before heading away from the loud music to take the call. We’re on the phone for 20 mins or so. He wants to offer me a contract, he wants to pay me and I’m allowed to live wherever I want to in Europe.
The caveat, the team doesn’t have much money and might be on a reduced calendar. I accept the contract on the phone and he promises it’ll be in my inbox the following morning. I thank him and own up that I’m actually on a night out. He laughs and wishes me well.
First I call Mum, and tell her the news. I shoot a text off to Alex who’s currently at the Giro, thanking him for all of his help. And finally, I shoot a text to the Scots to find out which bar they ended up in.
The train station dive bar. I walked in high on life, and I left in high spirits, both emotionally and because of the amount of shots we consumed. We were celebrating. Life is good. I ended up KO’d in someone’s apartment, not in any state to pedal home.
I wake up hungover to hell, pedal back to my apartment via the boulangerie and spend the day hungover in bed feeling both sorry and happy for myself at the same time.
3rd May 2021:
We’re back in business. Wow, it feels good. After eight very long months, it was a relief to be back in a racing peloton again. It didn’t start too well. We were played by our airline at Barcelona airport, and our total travel time from Girona-Portugal was around fourteen hours, about eight of those were sat in the airport. So, after spending a full day in the airport, not having a pre-race ride and eating dinner around midnight, it’s safe to say I was feeling a little apprehensive. The race itself was good, on a personal note, I had a tactical brain fart at the very wrong place and put myself out of contention, but one of my teammates took the win which is an incredible way to start the season.
I’m writing this from a hotel room in the Algarve hills. We’re staying a stone’s throw away from the region’s iconic climb, Alto da Foia. The Foia will be decisive on Stage 2, the Queen stage of Volta ao Algarve. As a .PRO classified race, it is the highest standard of racing I’ve ever done in my life. There are a fair few World Tour teams here, including the Ineos Grenadiers and Quickstep. To say it’s not going to be easy would be an understatement. My plan for the week is to get into a couple of breakaways early on, and then also help my teammates who are riding for the GC.
I’m just happy to be back racing. You cannot replicate the emotions of racing when you’re training at home. The pre-race banter as you sit outside the camper pinning on the numbers, the nerves as you sit on the start line and then the all out excitement as you spend the next five-hours with 174 other guys. You have to second guess every rider’s move, you descend faster than most cars will drive and you embrace the pain of the race like it’s an old friend. I was worried, after such a big gap since my last race that I’d have lost some of the excitement. I was wrong, I’m like a kid at Christmas everytime I pin a number on. And after last year, every time feels that little bit sweeter.
Hi, it’s modern-day Joe here..
I loved racing at Algarve. Our goal that week was simple: get in breakaways. Day 2, that’s exactly what I did. I rode some eight minutes ahead of the peloton in a group of what we now know to be doped Portuegese Conti riders. The World Tour peloton slowly brought us back and I went from the breakaway to the grupetto in a handful of kilometres.
The next day, I crashed hard. It was my fault, and in hindsight, that crash was the beginning of the end for my dreams of a World Tour contract…
—
31st May 2021:
The highest of highs, and the lowest of lows. I went from the breakaway of Volta ao Algarve, while not a tangible result, a personal goal for the race, to sitting on the tarmac within 24 hours. Now, over three weeks later, I’m still struggling with the consequences of that crash.
When I crashed, I looked around for my spare bike and got back to the bunch as quickly as possible. I was in stage race survival mode, get to the finish, worry later. I made my way back to the bunch and finished the stage. My bright white aerosock had turned a dark red with the blood flowing from my knee, but I was full of adrenaline. There was little pain. I crossed the line, virtually skidded to a halt in front of the ambulance and started thinking about tomorrow’s time-trial.
Crashing at 57kph the day before a TT is hardly ideal, but I’d be okay, right? Wrong.
I had two stitches in the ambulance and pedalled one-legged back to our team camper. I went through the Veloviewer for the TT course before bed, like I did every night, and went to sleep, a little uncomfortably, but still full of hope for the next day. I knew it was bad as soon as I woke up. My left knee had swollen like a balloon, and I couldn’t put any weight on it whatsoever. I hobbled to breakfast, knowing that starting the stage would be a longshot, but with a hint of optimism, I awkwardly got onto the turbo, cycling is non-weight bearing after all.
I couldn’t push 100w in the saddle, and when I tried to stand up, I couldn’t get the pedal past 12-o’clock. I thought it would be a simple injury, and with a few days rest I’d be back cracking for my next block of racing in Belgium, I was wrong. I still don’t know the extent of the injury. I cannot accelerate with any force, and I struggle as soon as the road goes up-hill. I’m currently back at the family home in Grimsby, waiting for a full diagnosis from the MRI, and then ultimately some treatment. If it’s not the hope that kills you, it’s the lingering fear of the worst.
Modern-day Joe here..
Yes Joe, you idiot, you had a broken knee. It took me months to figure this out, getting passed from specialist to specialist…
There are plenty more entries in the document which are fascinating. It’s a trip down memory lane. I can see the real-time highs and lows. I can see when one of my two or three major injuries started to come on and I wish I could go back and tell myself what to do. I’d have saved myself months of questions, medical appointments and more.
I’ve always said I had no regrets about my time as a U23. I’m starting to realise that’s not true. I wish I could go back and advise myself to do certain things, avoid certain injuries. Maybe that’s why I haven’t hung up my wheels yet, I still owe it to myself…
Anyway, there’s plenty more in that doc for another day, but there’s one entry that really stood out to me…
26th April 2022
Build a calendar which is the ultimate racing and travelling combination.
Road racing/crits in UK, Spain, Australia but also dabble in fixed and gravel at DK too.
[Edit, DK refers to Dirty Kanza, now known as Unbound Gravel]
Funny, how some things work out..
Something a little different, but I hope you enjoyed it. There’s so much stuff in that document, from mid-race thoughts to typing in the back of the team camper on the way to a stage.
Perhaps, more to come…
Project TAG, proudly partnering (both for my athletic and influencing ability) with…
While you’re here…
I’ve added a paid subscription and a ‘Buy Me A Coffee’ link to this post. As the year progresses, I’m planning on building this blog and putting out articles which I’ve always wanted to write but for whatever reason, haven’t wanted to pitch.
Any money that I make from either my Substack or BMaC link will go straight back into supporting my 2024 racing project. I am planning on keeping all content on here free to view though.
Well said, Joe. I just wrote something about taking an ultra ride off my bucket list. Not because I completed it, but because in falling short I found a different satisfaction. Maybe you feel the same way about the WT. Or maybe not yet.
Love it, Joe. Keep it up. Anything creative you come up with makes for a good read.