Why I don't think Lance Armstrong's a cheat

I wrote the following piece before the start of the 2010 Tour de France. Since then, a grand jury investigation into doping by Lance Armstrong's US Postal team has been convened and then shelved without bringing any charges.

Today, the US Anti-Doping Agency have confirmed they are bringing charges against Armstrong, his then team director Johan Bruyneel and four other members of the US Postal back room team. Lance has been banned from competition as a result, including the triathlons he has been focusing on, and could be stripped of his seven TdF titles.

The US ADA allegations say "numerous" riders will testify that Lance and his team took part in and encouraged blood-doping and accuses them of a long-running conspiracy to cover it up. They also say that despite never testing positive for any form of doping, they have blood data from 2009 and 2010 that is "entirely consistent" with blood doping.

It's a fairly damming document (you can read it here.)

Lance has posted a typically robust response in which he points out that despite alleging a conspiracy covering 16 years, he is the only rider charged. It also says: "I have competed as an endurance athlete for 25 years with no spike in performance, passed more than 500 drug tests and never failed one."

There are those in the Echo office who think I'm a fool for continuing to believe that the allegations aren't true.

My response is the same now as it was when I wrote this: I don't believe drugs cheats should get away with cheating. Ever.

But the person described in the USADA allegations - the man who has persistently cheated, intimidated, forced others to cheat, gloated about staying one step ahead of the tests, lied and lied and lied again while all the time vigorously defending his innocence - that person would be so deeply unpleasant it's hard to believe even the best facade would hide him for 16 years.

Maybe what it comes down to is that I just don't want to believe the kind of person who could have done all that - and yet still said, on winning his 7th Tour: "I'm sorry you don't believe in miracles. But this is a hell of a race. You should believe in these athletes, and you should believe in these people. There are no secrets — this is a hard sporting event and hard work wins it." - even exists, let alone lurks behind the public persona of one of my sporting heroes.

So here's the column as I wrote it in 2010. I stand by it today. You may think I'm an idiot - free free to have your say in the comments.

In about a month’s time, hundreds of underweight, obsessive, hair-free cyclists will take to the mountains of France for the annual spectacle that is the Tour de France.

Ahead of them will flock thousands of Germans in camper vans, Spaniards in tents and Brits on bikes, to perch perilously on the edge of an Alpine precipice, camping for three days without shower or toilet, in a bid to be in the perfect spot to watch the peleton whizz by in a 20-second blaze of colour.

This year’s tour promises to be perhaps the best for British cycling for years. Bradley Wiggins, at the head of the Sky team, has an excellent chance of a podium finish (arguably a far more impressive feat than Mark Cavendish’s admirable record of stage wins from last year.) This is a prospect that makes me so excited I want to jump up and down with glee.

But, but, but – as ever, the spectre of drugs, cheating and the reputation of Armstrong, arguably the sport’s most famous rider, will loom large over every stage.

I remember exactly where I was when American cyclist Floyd Landis won the stage of the Tour de France that sealed that year’s victory – and his fate. My boyfriend and I stood on the side of the road in the Pyrenees and watched as he flew up the mountain, seem-ingly unstoppable, then turned to each other and said “drugs test”.

We were right. Landis, who only the day before had seemed beaten and broken, failed a drugs test that night and was later stripped of his title.

Last week, Landis made more headlines with emails he sent to cycling officials, admitting he had been doping – and more excitingly for the world’s press – accusing seven-times Tour champion Lance and his legendary coach Johan Bruyneel of doing the same. Rumours and gossip abound when it comes to Lance and drugs. Two British journalists wrote a book claiming he’s been at it for years. Some whisper of a frozen blood sample from 15 years ago that would fail a drugs test were it to be thawed. Of all the tour cyclists, he is perhaps the most reviled.

Armstrong, however, has said he has nothing to hide.

People don’t like Lance. He’s too business-like, his team too regimented. He’s not friendly enough to the media. He and Johan don’t leave scope for heroic rides by manic individuals who crash out after one incredible, legendary ride in the mountains, but insist on discipline and planning.

They don’t ride all the season’s races, but concen-trate on the Tour. They ride to win, and they have the tactics to do it, and their team members are expected to give up individual glory if it means the team – and Armstrong – wins. Landis was one once of those team members. He and Armstrong did not part company as friends. So it is possible that these accusations are simply sour grapes. I hope with all my heart that it’s so.

Watching an Armstrong/ Bruynel team riding at the head of the peleton, a picture of synchronised determination, never fails to astound and inspire.

In fact, Lance is the reason I started watching the bonkers, brilliant carnival that is tour riding. His story, from cancer patient to Tour legend, is incredible. His record in the Tour is astonishing.

His Livestrong foundation helps thousands all over the world. His single-mindedness and determination is inspirational. (When I was marathon training and in pain, I used to remind myself that pain never stopped Lance. Sad, I know).

So it may be naive. It may be stupid. Maybe I’m just a sucker for a good story. But until the day someone proves it’s otherwise, I choose to believe that our Lance is a bona-fide sporting hero.

I choose to believe in the strength of the human spirit, and the idea that anything is possible if you want it enough. Because if it turns out that Landis is telling the truth, it’s not just Armstrong and his team that will lose. It’s all of us.