ALEX DOWSETT
TEAM KATUSHA ALPECIN
This month’s column is taking slightly longer than normal to put together and had I not left it till late it would’ve read very differently. Why? Well three days ago things were good, I was more than holding my own in the UAE Tour and I’d pulled a bigger and stronger portion of the TT than I’ve ever done. Our result wasn’t great but the margins were small and our race goals weren’t geared towards a strong TTT performance. It was a nice indication of good form. I was comfortably looking after both Marcel Kittel and Ilnur Zakarin during the stages and going deeper into the lead-out than I would do regularly, due to Rick Zabel heading home early.
Stage 6 threw me a monthlong curveball, though. It was littered unnecessarily with crashes, high stress and a cross headwind, strong enough to put everyone on edge that a split may happen. We knew that no team was daft enough to try, and if they did, there was a 20km climb at the end which would annul any gaps, but we all got mighty stressed. Thomas Löfkvist once said to me as a young pro, ‘Alex, the thing about cycling is, you don’t have to be stupid to be a cyclist... but it helps’. This is taken with a massive pinch of salt, but it’s stages like this where that phrase rings true. I was near the back of the bunch having some food when someone further up the field braked. This caused a chain reaction of riders braking more and more, and with only one hand on the handlebars, before I knew it I was straight up the rear end of Mark Cavendish (his rear end was left unscathed) and up onto my front wheel for what seemed like eternity. It was long enough for me to wonder which way I was going to go, consider what was going to hurt if I went the wrong way, how spectacular a save it would be if I came back down the right way and what I might have for dinner that evening. As you can guess, I went the wrong way and as I went down, one word sprung to mind and it began with F.
Next thing I know, Bernie Eisel is in my ear asking if I’m okay, as is José Azevedo, the team doctor, paramedics and more. I’d got back to the bunch, hacked off but ready to get to the finish, but my hand was aching and I knew something more sinister was up. One x-ray in a hospital in Ras al Khaimah later and a thumb fracture was diagnosed.
I could’ve carried on - it would’ve been an epic story for social media - but I knew there was nothing to gain. A chaotic sprint stage the next day was no place to be for a rider unable to grip the bars or the brakes. I’d have been a danger to others as well as myself. There’s no way the team would’ve even let me start - that crazy stuff is saved for the Tour.
So I’m sat in our kitchen now. A once busy, but now quiet March ahead on the turbo and then the road preparing for whatever is next. The way I see it, I’ll break a bone every couple of years and it’s been four since my collarbone so I’ve done well.
All that said, turns out you use your right thumb for more than you think and having it splinted is a nuisance. I’m actually just making a fuss. Stay tuned until next time, where I’ll be talking about turbo sessions and what Albert the cat has been up to.
“Thomas Lö kvist once said to me as a young pro, ‘Alex, the thing about cycling is, you don’t have to be stupid to be a cyclist... but it helps’”