Nikolai Razouvaev

Cycling is beautiful. All of it. The riding, the equipment, the kits, and the scenery.

When you join this sport, you join a cult. Not in a religious sense. Cycling is a cult in the same way we use this word about movies. We say, it’s a cult movie, it has a strong following. A group of people find something special, something no one else sees in a movie and it becomes a cult movie.

It’s the same with cycling. You mount a bike, get out on the road and you’re hooked for life. You want another ride. You want to watch that movie again.

People you know, friends and relatives, they tried it to, they’d ridden a bike, and nothing. They can live without it. They think maybe you’re strange, maybe you’re not normal. They think your obsession with cycling is a bit like a cult, a bit over the top.

They have no idea.

I got hooked almost 40 years ago, in Soviet Union. A 12-year-old kid with nothing to do after school, I ran into a cycling coach on the street who said I should come along to his club and try the sport.

So I did.

Six years later a UCI official hung a gold medal on my neck to confirm I just won the junior world championship.

What started as a free pass to try a racing bike my parents couldn’t afford, turned into a rite, a habit, and a custom that stayed with me to this day.

My name is Nikolai. I write stories, maybe even for you.