Maybe you’ve been watching the Tour and feeling inspired to get out on your bike again after a crash? Or maybe you were in the Tour and had to abandon due to injury? (Fabian, Tony, Simon, et al. – we wish you speedy recoveries.)
Well, The Pain Free Cyclist: Conquer Injury and Find Cycling Nirvana is the book for you.
Written by the awesome duo of Team Chiropractor and Nutritional Strategist for Team Cannondale-Garmin, Matt Rabin and Robert Hicks, Health and Fitness Deputy Editor of Cycling Weekly, this is the ultimate guide for all cyclists on all things cycling health-related. The book takes you through the most common cycling injuries, let you know what exactly they are, why you get them and what you can do to get rid of them and get you back on the bike pain free.
And if you don’t believe me, why not listen to the cycling legend that is Sir Bradley Wiggins:
If you do need to seek help, for me it’s about trusting that the person you are seeing can help you, going with this approach has always worked for me. I believe in this book, and you’ll find out the best ways to deal with injury and the bad pain you can have on your bike. By reading this book you will be able to short cut some of the information it has taken me years and a career as a pro-cyclist to find out. Feeling strong on the bike and riding pain-free regardless of your level, from amateur to pro, is what we’re all looking for. This book will help you to beat your injuries and prevent them returning, allowing you to slot back into riding your bike as the pain-free cyclist.
See you out on the road,
With just over a week to go the Grand Depart of the Tour de France 2013, why not relive the moments of the first British rider to win the Yellow Jersey captured in splendorous imagery in our bestselling Allez Wiggo.
Bloomsbury are offering a copy of the book to the first five people who sign up to the Bloomsbury Sport newsletter each day of the Tour. (We’ve just extended the offer!)
To be in with a chance of winning, sign up here: http://www.bloomsbury.com/uk/newsletter. Remember to check the Sport box in General Interest.
And let’s keep our fingers crossed for another British victory with … Va Va Froome!
Team Sport at Bloomsbury are delighted to say that on Thursday they will be publishing a stunning photographic book on ‘The Modfather’ himself, Bradley Wiggins.
The book covers his Yellow Jersey success in the Tour de France as well as his London 2012 Olympic glory. Brilliantly narrated by the cycling journalist, Daniel Friebe, this is the ideal Christmas gift for any cycling fan. (Yes, this is a shameless plug, but it’s worth it!)
Fancy having a sneaky peak now, then check out these sample pages here.
The legacy of the Olympics and Paralympics some have hoped aloud is that more of us, still all geed up and whooping, will take part in sport. When I say ‘us’ imagine instead the unspoken target: some pre-teen lazybones hunched over her smartphone. Suddenly she’s shot-putting her pillowcase of junk food out the window and joining squadrons of her kind in the streets, hurdling bins, moonwalking like dressage horses, going all Beth Tweddle on lamp-posts. Healthiness being the age’s religion, this is seen as a good thing. Sport is good for you. It makes you a fitter biomechanical machine, and a fitter body is happier, lives longer and, though I have gone too far already, contributes more to society. Here I am at a sports publisher, and such a groundswell of interest in sport should have me licking my chops – moo-ha-ha! Allow me instead to pooh-pooh.
But why? Why emit a sales-sapping grump of a blog? Am I so cynical, so sour of puss, so easily prepared to kill joy and rain on the parade of something community-spirited and optimistic, something right-headed and good. I would hope so, yes.
And now I hold up exhibit A, my left ring finger in a splint. This is what sport has done to me. A detached tendon suffered while keeping goal in five-a-side football. Do not, I suggest, try to block a cannonball using your ring finger like a pool cue, tip first. The digit has contracted the deformity known as mallet finger and is now permanently bent at the top joint. It may never fully heal, and in the meanwhile I am forced to wear my plastic finger hat of shame – for weeks.
My question is this: In the light of such a catastrophe, how can anyone of passing sanity suggest that sport is good for you?
Like most people involved in such things I have an atlas of injury remnants across my body: from bone bruises and dicky joints to multiply shucked toenails. We are not alone. Sport leads to a continuous barrage of impacts, crunches, wrenches and body damage. They don’t call them tennis elbows nor swimmer’s shoulders for nothing. One of the Olympic equestrian team was discussing how commonly they break fingers after being thrown. A recent crash in the Tour de France was called the Massacre at Metz for the mangled piles of bodies and bikes it left behind, all their skimpy little bike vests in tatters, with gravel-rash oozing horribly through the holes. None of this is strictly speaking good for you, is it. And I suspect it is only the very luckiest of sportspersons who will not wear the brunt of some injury or other to the grave.
Sport is bad for you. So should we wish it upon pubescent slobs and those less disposed towards physical movement? I don’t know. The only reason I can imagine, and probably the real impetus behind our participation anyway, is – no not self-esteem, goal-orientation, team-cooperative-learning-enhancement or some other policy-speak codswallop – fun. Sport is fun. Play it if you want. Unfortunately I will continue to.