S

Photography by Greg Williams

Photography by Sigmasportco.ukPhotography by jojšport.

agan retired as reigning world sprint champion, and after winning gold in the Olympic keirin. But, Kira Cochrane discovers, her time in the saddle was often fraught, she

used to self harm and she had a serious falling out with British Cycling. According to Victoria Pendleton, British Cycling has already sold off her bike. Some staff members will probably never speak to her again. She suspects they will be relieved not to have to deal with her any more. She tells me all this with a twinkly, tinkling laugh, the kind people adopt when they are trying especially hard not to sound bitter. The words ring in my head as I hang up the phone after our second conversation. I feel unexpectedly gutted. I had anticipated writing a fairly straightforward story about a champion – a complicated champion, yes, but one who had ex-perienced familiar ebbs of struggle and glory on the way to Olympic gold at Beijing, followed by those wild, psychological battles in London, where she won gold in the keirin, silver in the sprint. Instead, the tale of Queen Vic feels much darker. Pendleton is immensely friendly when we meet at the St Pancras Renaissance hotel, London, with an openness people probably either fi nd brilliant or totally unnerving. She is renowned for being nakedly emotional, sobbing when she loses – sobbing when she wins. “I’m some-one who wears their heart on their sleeve,” she says. “I fi nd it hard to act other than the way I feel.”

S What comes across from the start is her quest for approval, spe-cifi cally from men. The more desperate she has been to achieve this, the more it seems to have pushed people away. We talk about her earliest memory, and she says it is probably of watching her father race. Max Pendleton was a star amateur cyclist when she was growing up, and the book begins with him riding away from her up a hill, as she struggles to catch him, with the words "he doesn't love me, he doesn't love me," beat-ing through her head. Her other earliest memory is of being on the back of a yellow tricy-cle, ridden by her father, alongside her twin brother Alex. When they were four, Alex was pricked by a wild rose thorn that caused blood poisoning; he then had leukaemia. The illness came on suddenly, she says, and she remembers the moment he was rushed to hospital with perfect clarity. Was she worried? "I was very worried." She began praying intently. Alex recovered, but their parents continued to watch him care-fully; Pendleton writes that she sometimes “had to fi ght to get noticed as much”, although life was pretty rosy beyond that. She began cycling at six then racing with Alex, aged nine. For years he would usually beat her. But Pendleton pursued cycling anyway, because she just “wanted to be good at something,” she says, with a note of desperation. “I was just, like, all I want to do is be really good at something. Really, really good at something, so people are vaguely impressed by me.”

By her mid-teens she was beating Alex, and when they were 15, he gave up cycling, as their older sister Nicola had before. She uses an interest-ing phrase to describe this, writing that Alex "saw his chance and took it", as if he was escaping a kidnapping. Did she wish she had given up then, too? "At times I felt like, 'Ah, I wish I'd been fi rst to get out,' and then I was like: 'No, but those two would have both quit anyway, and Dad would be left with no one to cycle with.'" Couldn't he have cycled alone? She laughs. "Yeah, I know! He had lots of friends to cycle with anyway." But there was no giving up. She felt responsible for her father's mood. Did the pressure bother her? "Oh gosh, yeah." If she was invited out on a Saturday night by friends, it meant she wouldn't be properly rested for cycling, and she would "be fi lled with guilt," she says. "Should I go, shouldn't I go? I re-ally want to, but no. I'll go with Dad, and I'll go to the race, because that's more important, keeping him happy, than it is keeping [a friend] happy, and yourself happy ... You know, I didn't have to do it. If I'd had the strength of character to say, 'Actu-ally, no, I'm not going this weekend,' I would have done. But I didn't."

When she was 16, the national track team noticed Pendleton’s talent, and she was invited to Manchester to ride at the velodrome. But she wasn’t set on pursuing a track career yet. One of her most interesting qualities is her am-bivalence about cycling. Where most champions seem powered by a blinkered obsession, she is much more clear-eyed. For instance, she fully recognises that

sport is essentially entertainment, and fi nds this comforting. “When you’re in that bubble, training in that environment, with all those personalities who want you to win so desperately ... You think it’s life or death. It feels like if you don’t win you’re going to be hung, drawn and quartered.” But she remembers watching track cycling on television last year, “and I was like, this is the most ridiculous sport on earth. Riding around a wooden bowl, with a bike with no brakes ... And it was just like …” She takes a big sigh. “Aaaaaah, it doesn’t mean I don’t take the training incredibly seriously. But at the end of the day, it’s just a bike race.” Even

though I love winning . It is the best high to know that you did your best and it paid off. I love the feeling of passing someone who wants so des-peratly to win themselves.

he was escaping a kidnapping. Did she wish she had given up then, too? "At get out,' and then I was like:

Photography shared listal.com

Photography by Tinkoff.com

-Peter Sagan

1514

I was always fast riding bikes with my brother who got me

on a bike. There was little to do so I ended up riding every-where. It was both my trans-portation, entertainment, and a good way perhaps to make a living I hope.

By her mid-teens she was beating Alex, and when they were 15, he gave up cycling, as their older sister Nicola had before. She uses an interesting phrase to describe this, writing that Alex "saw his chance and took it", as if he was escaping a kidnapping. Did she wish she had given up then, too? "At times I felt like, 'Ah, I wish I'd been fi rst to get out,' and then I was like: 'No, but those two would have both quit anyway, and Dad would be left with no one to cycle with.'" Couldn't he have cy-cled alone? She laughs. "Yeah, I know! He had lots of friends to cycle with anyway."

I was always fast riding bikes with my brother who got me on a bike. There was little to do so I ended up riding everywhere.”

he says. “Should I go, shouldn’t I go? I really want to, but no. I’ll go with Dad, and I’ll go to the race, because that’s more important, keeping him happy, than it is keeping [a friend] happy, and yourself happy ... You know, I didn’t have to do it. If I’d had the strength of character to say, ‘Actually, no, I’m not going this weekend,’ I would have done. But I didn’t.”But there was no giving up. She felt re-sponsible for her father’s mood. Did the pressure bother her? “Oh gosh, yeah.” If she was invited out on a Saturday night by friends, it meant she wouldn’t be prop-

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