William Fotheringham surveys the history of cycling’s most coveted record, which Chris Boardman broke this week
CYCLING’S greatest of greats, Eddy Merckx, rated the one-hour track record as a “once in a lifetime” test of willpower and strength. Miguel Indurain, five- times winner of the Tour de France, struggled to break the record in 1994, and failed ignominiously second time round last year. Bernard Hinault, another five-times Tour winner, never dared attempt it.
That indicates the scale of Chris Boardman’s achievement when he broke the record — which he first took in July 1993 — last Friday night.
After setting a world record the week before for 4 000m, Boardman can now justly claim to be the fastest man in the world.
Watched by Eddy Merckx, who produces his bikes and remains the greatest rider the sport has seen, Boardman covered 56.375 kilometres, beating by more than a kilometre the previous mark of 55.291km set by Tony Rominger of Switzerland at the Bordeaux velodrome in November 1994.
Like Merckx’s 49km, set in Mexico in 1972, and Francesco Moser’s two-kilometre updating of that record in 1984, Rominger’s figures were regarded as unbeatable. But at Manchester Boardman was ahead of Rominger’s split times from the first kilometre and maintained a steady pace approaching 35mph.
“This is my personal limit,” he said. “I don’t want to ever do it again, and these figures will make other contenders think twice. The crowd had a great effect. Every time they got louder I went faster. I had to be careful not to over-cook it.”
Boardman’s disappointing Tour de France was affected by a viral infection. “After that I wanted three things — a world title, the world hour record and now the world time-trial crown,” he said. Next month in Lugano he will attempt to complete that treble.
The hour makes its own particular demands of those who would master it. There is no respite as there is when climbing a mountain or riding a time-trial on the road for 60 minutes. In a velodrome there is no chance to change gear or free-wheel even for a second to ease the pain as lactic acid builds up in the body.
Any shift of position to alleviate the discomfort of holding the same position risks a loss of precious momentum. “It’s going to be uncomfortable sitting down for a while,” he said.
The only rider to have taken the record in recent years without considerable coaching back-up is the eccentric Scot Graeme Obree.
Boardman knew that he needed to turn the pedals at about 104 revolutions a minute and that his pulse needed to be about 190 beats a minute.
Nothing was left to chance. The lights were dimmed in the track an hour before Boardman started so that he would not be affected by the heat and seconds before he started his attempt water was sprayed over him.
The greatest challenge to the Briton came from his radical “Superman” position, arms stretched in front of his face, which gave him an aerodynamic advantage over Rominger. So extreme is the position that Boardman’s hands went numb during training.
Such was the pain that he had to risk losing time by changing position slightly in the final 20 minutes. But that was the closest Boardman came to being in trouble in the entire 60 minutes — testimony to a performance that made cycling history.
The prestige attached to the hour stems from its stark simplicity. Cyclist gets on banked track; cyclist pedals for an hour; cyclist goes further than previous distance. Or not. `There’s no second place with the hour,” as Boardman points out. There are no opponents to shelter behind, and no tactical nuances as there are in road races. As a result, there is no potential for excuses. The only way out any rider can offer is a simple “I wasn’t good enough.”
There is nowhere to hide on a velodrome such as that in Manchester: failure is painfully public. When Indurain was beaten in the Tour de France last month, much of the media and public attention was deflected from his defeat to the winner, Bjarne Riis. When the Hour beats a star — as it beat Indurain in Colombia last October — that is the only story, and the focus is entirely on the failure.
“For the likes of Indurain and Rominger, it’s quite a sting if you go and attempt something in front of the world’s press and you fail. You don’t just not win, you fail,”
The Tour is cycling’s ultimate test of mental and physical stamina; the hour is its purest test of physical and mental strength.
The Hour is also the ultimate test-bed for cycling technology: the elimination of tactics means that aerodynamics and preparation become the main areas in which an advantage can be gained. Frequently, innovations gain acceptance after making their mark in an hour record, or else they are banned.
When the Italian Francesco Moser beat Merckx’s mark in 1984, he took cycling into the modern era. Specific preparation for one-off events, an increased focus on diet and aerodynamic aids such as lowered frames and disc wheels — now everyday in Tour de France time trials — appeared only after Moser’s successful experimentation. But his most outrageous aerodynamic bikes led to restrictions on what machines could and could not be used in races just as, in the 1930s, experimentation led to the banning of fairings and other aerodynamic aids.
Boardman admits the aerodynamic Superman position is “very unpleasant”. He also says it is dangerous: “It would be crazy to accept it on the road. You would have very little control. It’s acceptable for the track.” As a result, the riders may well be barred on safety grounds from using Superman on the road. Having put several thousand pounds of his own money into researching its potential, Boardman is unwilling to say precisely how much time it is worth over the conventional position.
But Superman is not Boardman’s invention, and he willingly pays tribute to its originator, Graeme Obree — “I am following what he did.” The Scot’s previous innovation was equally aerodynamic: a “squashed frog” position with the arms tucked in under the body to reduce frontal area. The aerodynamic advantage gained launched him on the road to celebrity when, as a total unknown, he beat Moser’s record in 1993. He also improved on Boardman’s figures the following year, before Indurain and Rominger took an interest.
But Obree’s crouched position also attracted the interest of the cycling authorities, who banned it on the same grounds that may well be used to stop the latest position being used on the open road. Frustrated, the Scot went away, tinkered in his garden shed, and Superman was born.
If Superman is banned later this year, it will fit perfectly into the Hour’s tradition of invention, reaction and athletic prowess.