Weight Watchers

Jan Ullrich suffered from Christmas pudding stuffing. Greg LeMond’s winter weight gain excuse was excessive cross-country skiing (adding bulk to his upper body).

Cycling is a sport as anal about weight as ballet dancing. Luckily ballerina’s can smoke as an appetite suppressant. Cyclists aren’t even allowed to take diuretics, and I haven’t seen a smoker in the professional peloton for as long as I can remember.

If there was ever a smoking contender, I would have to point at the chameleon like Dave Zabriskie. Puffing on a pipe would actually suit his All-American looks. I can imagine him pulling out a hubbly- bubbly at the back of the Garmin cruise-mobile, enticing some of his compatriots with his tentacled bong. Or perhaps he would be more (m) aligned to the Clint Eastwood style cheroot.

Regardless of smoking gammon or fat turkeys, more professionals are turning up at their off season camps as lithe as a southern-hemisphered Aussie. To me it sounds like a deprived Christmas. I, with both hands, will be eating mince pies like a Japanese hamburger-eating-world-champion.