Mayonnaise on Every Bite

Read time: 3 minutes.

I have a lot of conversations with the people I work with within the Rwanda cycling community. They range from the personal to the technical to friendly banter. Most importantly, I interface with so many individuals that have things to say, things that they tell me about their worries, struggles and sometimes shocking injustices that they are either afraid to speak up about, or don’t have anyone to tell them to. I’ve always searched in the back of my mind for a way to help them be heard, to tell the true story of this cycling community that has in essence become, my community. 

Originally I endeavored to produce a documentary, I hired a cameraman to film behind the scenes throughout the 2020 Tour du Rwanda, incidentally the last race held in Rwanda to date since the pandemic struck. The footage from the race, which was brutally hard and filled with extra complications, has been sitting with the editor for over a year now as I’ve struggle to finance its production. All we really needed to finish it was to sit individuals from the team down and have them tell their story about the race, the lead up to it, training camp, what happened and why etcetera. 

So I build a makeshift sound recording studio in my house and started work on it, I got the most basic mics, cameras and lights I thought would do the trick and started working on the script. However getting people to work on the film for pennies on the dollar since I am unemployed at this point proved near impossible, so I switched gears. 

Everyone and there mother’s uncle has a podcast now, I never planned on throwing my hat in the ring, but here I am with all the equipment and a studio, desiring to tell a story that needs to be heard and well, voila, fine, let’s do a podcast. 

I call it Mayonnaise on Every Bite because I’m not trying to say that I’ve figured out a new way to slice bread in the cycling world and that’s why you should tune in. The project needed a name and I’d rather have a funny one that maybe people can remember! Yes there is a meaning behind it. Growing up I always used to observe my Father whenever eating a sandwich, apply mayonnaise from the little packets they usually come in at delis across the USA, a little at a time before taking each bite, a habit he learned from his Mother, my late grandmother Peggy. I personally prefer to open up the sandwich and apply a generous helping across the span of it, one and done. But on a plethora of other meals, I dab it on every bite. It’s a family legacy in a way, silly as it may seem. 

I’m two episodes deep now into this new endeavor and it takes way more effort and planning that I ever imagined it would. I can’t tell yet if it is worth it, no one really seems to be watching, but such as it is with all meaningful projects, I suppose it takes a while to appear on peoples radar. Our video footage isn’t great, I could only afford basic Panasonic camcorders to start with and our conversations are very sporadic. I don’t have a formula other than to introduce my friends to the world and give them a space to speak. I’m refining the structure of the podcast each time I do an episode, each one is a little better than the last and soon we will have a library of accounts on what it is to live as a bike racer, mechanic, staff member, fan or observer of Rwandan cycling and hopefully beyond one day soon. 

Eventually we will get better cameras and provide the show in true HD, I hope to assemble a mobile setup that can come with me wherever I go so that we can capture the experiences and stories of cycling community members across Africa. I hope you enjoy the show, if you have the desire to learn and understand what really goes on around here, stay tuned, we’re gonna tell you all about it. 

“The Dream.”

The idea has been floating around my head for the better part of a decade. Always conceptualized in its ideal form of expression as the fine art of the pursuit of excellence in bike racing. Building a team. That’s the dream. I’ve consulted with other parties about their concepts, coached other teams as they grew and often wondered why no one seems to be able to do it in a truly original way. I heard it said once that you should give your ideas away, the ones you can’t give away, those are the ones you develop. 

In my 5 years of working in African cycling I’ve become absolutely convinced that the talent to compete at the highest level exists in spades in many as yet untaped communities. Physical specimens that inspire awe at the miracle of the human weapon. The only thing lacking is the individuals and programs to develop these athletes. So year after year, would be superstars never even climb on a bike. 

If I could do anything, I would change that. I would bring the dream under one roof and seek out the truest manifestation of native talent and cultivate it with the most refined methods I can conceptualize. When I was coming up as a young athlete, I went through the gauntlet that every young aspiring pro must go through: Europe. There is no substitute for the convergence of forces that result in the international, world class, European peloton. If you wanted to compete with the best in the would, you had to go jump in the trenches with them, and it was rough. 

Today the same is true, and while limited, African athletes make brave forays into the international Euro, but increasingly global racing culture. The biggest obstacle is how cost prohibitive the sharp learning curve is. The ROI on sending a team from Rwanda to go compete in Belgium or France is not sustainable. It takes time to adapt and gain the confidence needed for success. Season long tenures by individual or isolated small groups of Africans are again, brave, but often a losing battle. Adapting to culture as well as to the pinnacle of performers in the sport is so all consuming that something has to go. Quality of life really matters in the end, so in most cases, it’s the racing craft that doesn’t get enough oxygen.

I believe that all of this however, isn’t necessarily necessary. The only reason for joining in the absurdity of the Euro charged cycling circus, is that it houses the biggest and best stages in the world. But what if there were a better way for African athletes to prepare for and adapt to the world stage, what if instead of begging for a spot in the white man’s circus we started building our own?

Before there was “gravel”

Before there was gravel, there was the red roads of Rwanda that the brave pioneers of the sport rode on. It’s intriguing if you look back to see how many phenomena of the present have occurred in history under different circumstances. Who knew. Personally I love riding the red roads criss crossing the thousand hills of Rwanda by the thousands, there’s something there, a magic that shouldn’t be forgotten or lost. Why not race on them once again? 

RWA Cycling cup format

Read time 2 minutes.

The Rwanda Cycling Cup national race series saw what was a welcome change in my view. A shift away from long form point to point road races to shorter legs ending in circuits, or, just circuit races outright. I’ve heard quite a few people voicing concerns that this style of racing is inferior to the longer format. 

In principal they are not wrong, strictly speaking. But in the context of Rwandan cycling as it is in its current iteration, the long form road races are actually problematic. In Rwanda almost all of our roads are hilly. While this does make the race challenging, it reduces the tactical nature of the race significantly reducing the effect of drafting and the size of the field usually quite early on. What this does is create a race of attrition that typically rewards a largely aerobic ability over 4 or 5 hours. These races end up being remarkably similar to a training exercise in one of our training camps, minus the motor pacing of course. The lack of tactical challenge and the absence of a clear pinch point that decides the race means that 9 times out of 10 the winners are simply the ones that lasted the longest. This is certainly a component of what makes a good bike racer, but it is only one component, and it is fairly simple to train. 

On to the circuits. These races provide a different kind of challenge and result in a different, more dynamic kind of racing. More corners challenge athletes skills, shorter circuits, often slightly less challenging than the open road keeps the peloton together longer. The winners that emerge and the athletes that excel at this type of racing are better bike handlers, tactically inclined, and possess a greater racing acumen that often would go unused in the longer format. This style of racing also requires higher, more polarized power outputs which are a greater indicator of success in the international peloton than the sub-threshold extended efforts of the long road races. In fact, the athlete good at 5 hour sub threshold efforts often is not suited at all to the demands of actual professional bike racing

What all this means is that the shift to more circuit style racing brings out a much improved setting for young athletes to truly learn how to race bikes. It also provides me, as a coach, with much more valuable observations that can actually translate up to the next level. 

The long form has its place and its value without question, but it will take some time for the size of our peloton to grow to the numbers that would create a dynamic race. We need to see fields of 60, 70, or 100 and multiple teams capable of contributing to the race. Our fields have been growing slowly, but the number of athletes actually capable of influencing the race are still few. So in short, the circuits are a welcome format purely from a cost benefit analysis considering where Rwandan cycling is in its development. Lastly, I think the circuits provide more energy to the environment, the public can watch a race unfold for hours rather than seeing it go by once or twice. This educates the public a little bit about how bike racing works as well. 

I hope that sheds some light on our national series and persuades the naysayers to enjoy the format. 


Myself and Nigerian athlete, Innocent Emmanuel, cooing down after a day of motor-pacing.

Read time: 2 minutes. 

2019 was a really tough year.  2020 doesn’t look much easier. I’ve been coaching the Rwandan national cycling team for almost 5 years now. In the early days I marveled at my good fortune having stumbling into a job so perfect for me. It put me on my bike, and got me fully immersed in the science of extracting the most and best possible performances from a whole team of athletes. But most of all, it put me smack dab in the middle of one of the most interesting cultures and places to ever pursue high level cycling. It was a dream come true, it felt like what I was doing was worthwhile. When I see my athletes, I don’t just see a bunch of kids from Rwanda, I see myself. I WAS that wide eyed kid from the village (country.) I didn’t know jack shit about the world and the bike was my ticket out of obscurity. 

It’s never been a bed of roses, every worthwhile effort has its pitfalls and hazards, but along the way, over the years, something has changed. I still relate to my boys, I still love the art of the craft of coaching and spend countless hours studying the latest science. I read the papers and listen to the lectures or podcasts to glean something new that might be useful for us. I still dream of seeing our kids fill up the roster of a top World Tour team one day, Tour de France type shit, you know? Not just one token African guy that goes and gets a participation medal at the Olympics. If you know anything about professional bike racing, you know you can’t train up to that level. You need probably fifty race days at the top level to adapt to that kind of competition. You could have all the talent in the world and there is still no possible way to prepare for being competitive without being a member of the World Tour. 

I don’t wanna say that we’ve reached the limits of our abilities up here nestled between Mount Sabyinyo and Bisoke, home to Gorilla families and base of the Africa Rising Cycling Center (ARCC) but we’re definitely stuck for too long up against the same obstacles. It’s been a long time now since the national team was well funded, since equipment was replenished and true racing gear has been infused into the team. Tools like power meters, computers and components for proper fitting contact points on the bikes are sorely lacking, and have been for years. The outright supply of race worthy bikes and wheels is dwindling. Not to mention the general scarcity of bikes in the country, period.

I can’t lie to them. I can’t sit here and say “hang on, it will get better” because it hasn’t. I don’t know how far up you have to go to make a meaningful change that would actually allow someone with bike racing knowledge to make executive decisions and budget calls. Corruption is the bane of many an African federation. It’s a stereotype no one likes to talk about, but the bullshit bureaucracy that gets put in place to protect against the corruption in the first place is almost as bad. Wherever there are talented athletes, progress is getting blocked by wanna be politicians, making a career out of their positions instead of serving, if not being outright corrupt themselves. The dream seems so far off… way further than ever before. Whatever money comes along to fund new bikes and equipment is too little too late to keep up with the time it takes to develop the next generation. The sport is dying. So where do we turn? I’m not just interested in the future of the sport for the kids, I’m interested in it for all of us. Rwanda has the potential to lead the way for all of Africa. The thousand hill miracle, there’s hardly a place better suited to training and building a racing culture. We hold in our hands a precious commodity. An opportunity to make history, to build something that wasn’t here before. To create a movement that could carry thousands, even millions of Africans forward. The bike is that powerful. I want to pump as much life into this sport around here as I can, but there’s a wall of obstacles in front of me.

Give us bikes, build us a velodrome, give us programs for education for athletes serving on the national team. Imagine what we could do with 500 athletes in the country instead of barely 100… where there’s a will, there’s a way. 

Looking back

Tour l’Espoir au Cameroon 2017. That was a high energy, highly charged time. We were on the way up, pushing our limits and pulling together to make our tactics comprehensive within the team. Then that qualified us for the 2018 Tour du l’Avenir which was a dose of reality that knocked us all back quite a bit. Coupled with that and the beating we received at the 2018 Innsbruck UCI World Championships left us all feeling like we needed something we didn’t have in order to compete with the world. That’s a problem I still haven’t solved yet. Trying to weigh wether the goal for us is to dominate Africa, send soldiers out to climb up the ranks of the European peloton, or to recalibrate and just focus on the home front for a few years. The things each of those goals require are different. But the funding, equipment and programs I would need to accomplish any of these ambitions are not dissimilar. Anything is possible I believe, but someone still has to pay for it. For now my next focus is Tour du Rwanda UCI 2.1 2020. I’m going at it with as specific and detailed of program as I’ve ever tried to implement, doing everything I can think of to move the needle even half a percent. I’m hoping that the details add up to the marginal gains everyone always talks about and gets us on the podium even if we can’t yet win the race outright in its newer iteration of UCI 2.1 ranking. Nothing would make me happier than to have a squad that can surprise some people in our home race come February. 

For starters.

Waiting for the start of the 2019 Rwanda road race national championships with eventual winner, Bonaventure Uwizeyemana. Bona has since absconded to the USA having lost hope in his circumstances at home.

It has slowly dawned on me, more and more as time goes on, the fickle nature of all our personal media platforms we use. People have entire careers now stemming from an Instagram following or a YouTube channel. I’ve always looked at these people and sort of admired their ability to constantly and aggressively serve up their lives to the world for your entertainment. But I’ve never been able to conceive of spending that much time, or making that kind of effort to put my story, my work, the things I have to say out for you. For one, my following isn’t that of a supermodel or a controversial talk show host, so a lot of hours and effort go into something that maybe get viewed 100 or 500 times. Basically drowned out by all the noise. That is why I have for years been retreating to the timeless analog of writing an actual book. Gambling in a sense that the trend is coming, already started in my estimation of intellectual and genuine people starting to unplug, partially or fully from the social media matrix in search of more indelible formats of information and story. More analog and sincere formats. I’m caught somewhere in-between. Huge swaths of my days and the story of my work goes undocumented because it’s simply too much work. The ROI seems to be nil, but maybe it isn’t. It’s a loud world out there and I’m not that interested in competing for your attention as you scroll… 

When I first arrived in Rwanda 5 years ago I started a blog called “NoMessNoMessage.” Eventually I fell off of updating it and now I am missing many moments, many scenes, stories and pictures that would provide some joy, education and entertainment for the right audience. Maybe even just for me to catalogue my experiences and getting maybe just a bit more of it on tape to post here for my family, friends and faithful little following to come and enjoy. Today I took a trip down memory lane watching some of the old videos I’ve made of the team. I teared up watching some of the athletes that were once an indelible, integral part of our team, but are now gone. Bona.. Janvier.. Vava.. I love you boys and I hope wherever you’re at is working out for you. 

Using Format