Pursuing a professional cycling life is basically a self-serving thing but with our team and the Qhubeka charity, it gives you that sense that you’re a part of something bigger. I’m in the best place in my life since I’ve started professional cycling because of it. The other big reason is the people I have around me now, especially my wife, Rachel.
It feels like we’re on this adventure together and we both feel very lucky to be able to live this life. If you don’t come from Europe, the sacrifice you have to make is giving up your home and moving overseas. My wife has to give that up for my career. That’s something I am always super aware of. That’s a big sacrifice to make.
It’s hard because there’s a degree of selfishness you have to have to be a successful professional athlete.
I’m slowly learning that if you want to be really successful you have to put your needs ahead of others even if you feel like an idiot about it. At the same time, I’m also aware of being totally irrational, it’s such a fine line. It’s easy to become irrational because the season is so intense, you live it, breathe it, especially when you’re in racing and there’s a lot of pressure on you. It’s easy to turn it into something bigger than it is.
It’s not like you’re curing cancer, it’s just bike racing. If I stop racing tomorrow, the amount of people it’s going to affect is very small.
You have this sense of what you’re doing is the most important thing in the whole world. Whether it’s the breakfast you’re having or the training you have to do that day or the sleep you need, it becomes this massive thing. I’m very aware of that and I know Rachel well enough to know how she reacts to me when I’m like that. That’s when I have to check myself.
It’s a fine line between being able to compete at this level but there’s also a point where you realise you’re still just a person. It’s not like you’re curing cancer, it’s just bike racing. If I stop racing tomorrow, the amount of people it’s going to affect is very small, but you can destroy relationships through being selfish. I don’t want to be the guy who comes out alone at the other end, even after a successful career.
Lachlan Morton racing at home in the 2018 Tour Down Under. Credit: Stiehl Photography
The off-season is a period when we try to cram a normal lifestyle into two months and reward ourselves for the sacrifices during the season. For us, that’s always back in Australia in the off-season. I always look at it like filling up the tanks. You have this amount in the tanks every time you leave home or make a sacrifice and you’re burning through the tank when you’re away. You fill up and recharge in that two-month period. We grow so much through that time and appreciate home so much more.
When I’m away at races, even if it’s hard, I’m still surrounded by a good group of people. We have teammates and staff around us. It’s hard for 4 or 5 hours of racing a day but the rest of the time it’s fine but for my wife, she is home in an empty apartment for a week or two. It’s equal if not more of a sacrifice.
The first time I went into the World Tour I just wound up here. I’d been chasing this dream of becoming a professional since I was 10 years old but you’re not really aware of what it entails. You’ve been chasing it for so long it becomes your identity when you make it. The first time I did it without her and failed miserably. She’s made me much better the second time around.
Last modified: Jan 20, 2020
