Kilometre Zero – KONM rolls gently off the line

So, here we are then: King Of No Mountains, the cycling blog no-one asked for.

It would be great to start with something of a mission statement, but KONM doesn’t exactly have one. The only real criterion I gave myself when setting all this up was that the aim was not to end up as a glorified equipment shop masquerading as an ‘online magazine’.

Sure, we all know cycling is a business, but writing about it doesn’t always have to be. (Anyway, it’s not as if advertisers would have been falling over themselves to get involved).

There is, however, a vague plan for what shape this site will take. If you haven’t already had a glance at the ‘About’ page, here’s the sell:

  • At times, KONM will be a blog about how terrible – really atrociously terrible – I am at cycling.
  • At times, it will be a blog about how good other people are at cycling, especially the select crew of lunatics who do it for money. Of particular interest in that regard will be microscopic Colombian climbers and gigantic Belgian classics-monsters.
  • At times, it will be a descent into the more pretentious realms of cyclo-lit. You know the kind of thing: dreamy, 1,000-word ‘portraits’ about the existential terror of climbing hills.
  • At times, it will be nonsensical drivel about one man’s obsession with a spreadsheet-based computer game.
  • At times, it will be good.
  • At times, it will be bad.
  • But whatever the topic or the level of #content being churned out at any given moment, KONM will be a blog about cycling that doesn’t try to flog you a €6,000 groupset in the middle of an article about a stage of the Tour Down Under.

That’s nice, I hear you say, but what the f#ck does that actually mean?*

*Oh, did I mention there would be swearing?

Good question. One reason – but very definitely not the main one – for doing this is to document my own, rather pathetic, cycling ‘career’.

It feels redundant to try to establish ‘credentials’ at this point, as I simply don’t have any, but I’ve been a cyclist in some shape or form since I was a teenager, and a fan of the pros for about as long. Despite this, largely as a result of being involved in other sports, I have never entered a race and, at the time of writing, have a single sportive to my name.

I am, however, a rookie club cyclist with delusions of mediocrity. If you enjoy being bored, here’s a link to my Strava, which I only joined in September this year, and a screengrab of recent activity to give you a rough idea of my level.

So what? Well, I intend to work towards becoming a competitive amateur rider either in 2019 or 2020, a desperately sad and humiliating journey you’ll be able to follow via the aptly titled The Worst Rider section onsite.

The only aim in my ‘career’ – I’m 32 – will be to avoid finishing rock-bottom in the lowest tier of racing in Ireland. If I’m being completely honest, I don’t fancy my chances of achieving even that.

Aside from that, in Peloton you’ll be able to read the type of miscellanea that a lot of (vastly inferior) bloggers would describe as ‘various musings’ on pro racing. I make no claims to be an expert. In fact, I make no claims to be even passably knowledgeable in the grander scheme of things. The only card I have to play here is mild obsession.

In Manager you can expect what will be, hopefully, a moderately amusing document of directeur sportif Harry Eyre Du Peloton’s exploits in Pro Cycling Manager, the most pointless-yet-somehow-addictive game currently available anywhere in the universe.

I promise, that won’t all be as shockingly dull as it sounds.

Or maybe it will, I don’t know. But we’ll find out soon enough.

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