Racing Through the Dark

by David Millar, Jeremy Whittle

By his 18th birthday David Millar was living and racing in France, sleeping in rented rooms, tipped to be the next English-speaking Tour winner. A year later he'd realised the dream and signed a professional contract with the Cofidis team, who had one Lance Armstrong on their books. He perhaps lived the high life a little too enthusiastically -- high on a roof after too much drink, he broke his heel in a fall, and before long the pressure to succeed had tipped over into doping. Here, in a full and frank autobiography, David Millar recounts the story from the he doped because 'cycling's drug culture was like white noise', and because of peer pressure. 'I doped for money and glory in order to guarantee the continuation of my status.' Five years on from his arrest, Millar is clean and reflective, and holds nothing back in this account of his dark years.

Genres: Cycling, Nonfiction, Biography, Sports, Autobiography, Memoir, Biography Memoir

354 pages, Hardcover

First published June 1, 2011

About the author

David Millar is a Scottish road racing cyclist riding for Garmin-Sharp. He has won five stages of the Tour de France, two of the Vuelta a España and one Stage of the Giro d'Italia. He was the British national road champion and the national time trial champion, both in 2007. He is the only British rider to have worn all Tour de France jerseys and one of five to have worn the yellow jersey. He was also the first British rider ever to have worn the leader's jersey in all three Grand Tours. He was banned for two years in 2004 after admitting taking banned performance-enhancing drugs, but four years after his return he won the silver medal at the World Time Trial Championships. In June 2011 he published his autobiography titled Racing Through the Dark, which Richard Williams in The Guardian wrote was "one of the great first-person accounts of sporting experience".

Reviews

[Adrian · Rating 5 out of 5]

As a keen fan of cycling and the big Tours in particular I was looking forward to reading this book, and it didn't disappoint.
David Millar raced through an era when other Brits came and went ( Chris Boardman etc), survived and is still there putting in great performances as a Domestique.
Having always been a keen supporter of any Brits who dared to challenge the might of European cycling ( or Lance Armstrong) I followed David's performances in the big tours with interest and pride. I was therefore saddened to learn along with many others he had been doping. This book gives the details and truth behind the scenes that led to his downfall from grace, and is an "addictive" and compelling read.
Although a flawed hero he is a hero still in my eyes given his current vocal anti doping stance and his genuine ability to still surprise some of the younger riders (see highlights of TDF 2012 for his wonderful stage win or his aggressive tactics and willingness to bury himself in 2013 TDF ) I am delighted he continues to ride.
A great book with true insight that could do with an extra couple of chapters when he finally retires ( about Lance and also David's last few years as a clean rider and vocal anti doping campaigner)

PS added in 2018 - David has now written the follow up and if anything it is even better, so look out for "The Racer" (it won't let me add a link ??)

[Stephen Huntley · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a disappointingly limp autobiography. Millar gives the impression from afar of someone who might be quirky, intelligent and amusing, and I was hoping his book would reflect those qualities. Unfortunately he comes across as petulant, immature, spoiled and incredibly self-absorbed. Having been caught cheating (and avoiding tax, and blowing a fortune living a high-rolling, partying lifestyle) he becomes a born-again desperate-to-be-heard preacher of clean living. There is no real soul searching; he isn't to blame for anything really, it is the system and all those bad people out there (he tries to shoulder some responsibility but it deosn't seem genuine).There is no hint of quirkiness or humour in his writing, and instead I felt I was reading the work of a vain and not particularly bright poser anxious to appear intellectual (he often comments on how much he likes books). There is a lot of 'poor me' and 'it's not fair' type of childish bleating. Millar is also hypocritical and blind to his own shortcomings; he dumps a team because he wasn't happy and sees a better opportunity elsewhere then savages Bradley Wiggins for doing the same thing; the difference being, Wiggins did it to MIllar's new team. He also infamously slates Wiggins' talent, claiming it was he (Millar) and his team that was solely responsible for Wiggins' good showing in the Tour, and Wiggins was certain to fail with any other team (Wiggins won the Tour de France with Team Sky soon after this book was published). If you're new to the sport it is worth reading purely as a background piece, and it does give you an insight into MIllar. It is also written quite breezily and is easy to get through. Read Tyler Hamilton's brilliant book The Secret Race for far more honest insights into professional cycling and this depraved period of doping.

[James · Rating 5 out of 5]

A fascinating insight into the mind and career of David Millar, one of the UK's (Scotland's) top professional cyclists. From his early days growing up in Hong Kong, through his time as a fresh-faced neo-pro with the Cofidis team - determined to be the best, but also to be the best clean - his continual exposure to doping and his eventual, unsurprising, descent into doping himself. Finally, coming out the other side, exposed and starting to rebuild his career - equally determined that the behaviours don't need to be repeated for future neo-pros.

In part shocking - that Millar's team was quite so happy to leave him entirely unmanaged - he really was viewed as just fresh meat for the professional cycling scene; if he does well the team are happy to profit, if he crashes and burns they appear equally happy to just cast him aside. In part sad - without any real form of support, Millar seems to almost revel in his destructive personality.

Throughout the book there are some surprising name-drops, riders who I had no idea had been implicated in doping scandals, but I assume that you wouldn't be allowed to name a rider in your memoirs unless his doping was a documented fact. Equally there are two names, both heavily involved in grooming Millar to accept his life of doping, who are known only as l'Équipier and le Boss. His parallel journey with Lance is one of the most interesting. Starting out as a doe-eyed fanboy, he eventually loses a lot of that respect as he realises that whether Lance is doping or not, his refusing to speak out on the subject is letting cycling down even more.

It's well written, which is made more impressive as the book appears to be mostly written by David himself. Presumably guidance and editing provided by Jeremy Whittle. Detailed and engaging throughout, the book feels like a cathartic labour of love for the author. Unfortunately, just as the most annoying anti-smoker is an ex-smoker, so Millar sometimes runs the risk of getting a little carried away with his self-righteousness.

Ultimately though, this is a book about redemption. Initially, the redemption of David Millar himself, but also his planned redemption of cycling itself.

[Michael · Rating 2 out of 5]

Because of all the Lance Armstrong related hubbub I have not reviewed this because I thought I should do something more than just review this one book, but better to do something than nothing.

Many people who are not cycling enthusiasts will not know who David Millar is - there is a Wikipedia article that provides a lengthy overview. (Arguably it is a wiser time investment to read what is in Wikipedia than the book.)

Millar rode for several teams and was someone from whom success was expected not long after turning professional, then in 2004 he was caught doping and sat out two years. In 2006 he returned to riding as a vocal advocate for riding clean.

This memoir that clocks in at close to 350 pages has four parts: childhood through youth and early riding career, then his progressive conversion to doping followed by his being caught and banned for two years, and finally his reborn career and stance as anti-doping advocate.

The first section is too long - there is no compelling reason to have included most of what is here since little of it provides any background or explanation for what follows. Simply starting to read at page 58 or skimming up to this point would be a way of avoiding most of the pointless reading.

The second section - his professional career from 1997 through 2004 - is the most interesting part of the book. I have not read Tyler Hamilton's new book but I would guess it is similar. Millar avoids taking direct responsibility for his actions explicitly and offers a variety of excuses, including "it was expected," "the other guys were depending on me," "what I did at first wasn't doping, it is easy to slide over the line into doping" and more.

The description of his life as a cyclist and his fellow riders during this period reveals that things were quite bad - one wonders that something didn't set off a reaction then, long before Lance was busted. Riders didn't just take things to perform better during the race, they took various things to recover faster and took sleep aids as well. At one point Millar took a sleep aid while drinking (despite knowing this was unwise) and jumped from a window injuring an ankle and then not being able to ride for months.

The drinking aspect was not something I expected as apart of the story - for a professional athlete, Millar drank quite a lot. In only one photograph in the book where he was not on a bike is he not holding a drink. I suppose one can give him credit for being open about this.

The third section of the book is about being busted and serving a two year ban from riding. Millar is suitably grateful to folks who saw him through this period but in places he is whiny - given that he is a professional athlete who would drink, take pills, then injure himself it's kind of hard to feel sorry for him. He also moans and groans about his personal financial difficulties, the details of which I forgot about the instant I finished reading about them - given how much this subject may have occupied his attention during this period he likely thinks he kept description of this short, but it seemed labored to me.

The last section is the redemption section - as with many memoirs written by athletes who are still active, he doesn't want to annoy his new teammates so this is not terribly revealing (or interesting).

He makes an exception for his former teammate Bradley Wiggins who left Garmin-Slipstream for Team Sky. Millar describes his unhappiness at this (in large part, he says, because he took a pay cut so that Wiggins could earn more) and shares that he and his teammates regarded Wiggins' chances to win the Tour de France, his goal, as slim. "We looked forward to watching him fail" and "we were certain that he'd never be on the podium at the Tour." (Work on this book was completed long before the 2012 Tour de France that Wiggins won.)

Lance Armstrong comes up twice - early in his career he and Lance were both riders for Cofidis, although they didn't have that much contact since Armstrong was just coming back after cancer treatment. Much later, after the doping suspension, Millar lectured Lance at a cocktail party and Millar describes that incident in some detail. Otherwise what one gets relative to Armstrong's situation is confirmation that the culture of doping was widespread, pervasive.

The issue of doping overshadows the subject of bicycle road racing in this memoir, which is unfortunate. From time to time Millar does provide descriptions and analysis of some of his races and racing accomplishments but this comes across as a secondary topic. Millar had a number of big races where he just failed to win and much like his excuse-making with doping, he usually offers excuses for those failures. (As a memoir written with a co-author it seems remarkable that in numerous places a reader forms a less than good impression of Millar - not that he was doping, that he makes excuses and doesn't take responsibility for it more directly, and like that.)

In the 338 pages here there is around 120 pages of interesting stuff. There are some photos, both color and black and white. There is an index that can help you what what he may have said about particular people or events without plowing through all if it but no timeline for Millar's career, which would have been helpful. (You can look up his professional career accomplishments.)

[Paul · Rating 4 out of 5]

Millar was one of the last British cyclists to go through the older system of being an amateur, before turning pro and being a domestique and main rider for the European teams. He is an immensely talented rider, and if British cycling had been in existence when he started I don’t think that he would have had all the problems with dope and drugs, that ended up with him being banned for two years.

For all that he has done, he is now a major ambassador for anti doping. In the book he talks of the omerta that exists in the teams, and between the teams and the UCI, even now. It will take a decade to clean the sport of cycling up, especially after the fallout from the Armstrong saga, but cycling is changing.

Really good book, a must read for all cycling fans.

[Mike · Rating 4 out of 5]

David Millar has grown on me. Whilst his endless preaching over the perils of doping in professional cycling can come across as sanctimonious and insufferably self-righteous, he's an articulate figure in the sport and a real beacon for its potential drug-free future. Certainly, recent Tours have been all the better for not worrying about cheering someone on, only for them to get banned and their heroics exposed as the result of performance enhancing substances, and Millar has played a role in improving things. Ironically, this book's foreword comes from one of the biggest hitters in twenty first century cycling, Sir Dave Brailsford, who emerges as the real hero in Millar's tale also.

Based on Millar's many comments, one can expect an honest account of his slide into drug use, and that's just what follows. Almost heartbreaking is the inevitability of his collision with EPO, the way he grows as a rider determined to stay 'clean' and yet so pervasive is the use of doping that his subsequent usage is unavoidable. It turns out that doping was commonplace, its introduction to the diet of riders so pervasive and all-reaching that, almost before he knew it, Millar was a regular user, accepting it as simply part of the sport. Along the way, we meet many of professional cycling's great contemporaries, Lance Armstrong looming large over the sport and emerging as charismatic and occasionally as a great guy, yet ultimately blinkered to the need to clean things up. It's a shame that Armstrong's confession over doping took place not long after Racing through the Dark was published, as the American's fall from grace is the obvious juxtaposition to Millar's own experiences and its absence in the narrative is disappointing.

Elsewhere, the story is one of Millar's growing up in a broken home, spending his formative years in Hong Kong and Britain, which helped to define his essentially lone existence as a cyclist. The stuff about his despair following the ban is riveting, partly for its brutal honesty (he blames himself as much as anyone, and really goes through a 'down and out' period), and this just makes his comeback, older, wiser and more forthright, all the more winning.

Racing through the Dark is a fine book from one of cycling's more engaging figures. It's pretty much self-penned without a ghost writer, which makes it more valuable still.

[Jules · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was pure love. Wasn't sure what to expect but it was really well written and could hardly put it down. I don't know too much about pro-cycling and therefore learnt a lot about what it was like in the 90s. Great to put my on-off TdF TV viewings in context, as I remembered the names I used to watch on TV and what really went on behind the scenes.

Really fascinating insight into the thoughts and inner workings of David Millar as well. He starts from the start and does a really good job of it without being boring.

This book made me do research into the characters mentioned and the sport in general. It also makes me want to buy a new racing bike and try a TdF stage ride...but that's another story. Highly recommend for cycling fans.

[Shayla · Rating 2 out of 5]

David doesn't make himself likable and is still looking to blame someone for his actions through this book. If you don't agree with him then you must be a doper. A little too condescending and superior sounding to feel like he has changed much.

[Christina Stind · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reading Jørgen Leth’s book about professional cycling Den gule trøje i de høje bjerge and Lance Armstrong’s It's Not About the Bike: My Journey Back to Life about the beginning of his career, his battle with cancer and his way back to the sport, made me even more appreciative of cycling and the Tour de France. However, Millar’s book is exactly the opposite. It makes me even more aware of the dark side of cycling.

Coincidentally, I began reading this book on July 13th, 2012. I had timed my reading of books about Tour de France and cycling to coincide with this year’s Tour de France – but I hadn’t expected that I would start reading this book on the same day as David Millar won yet another stage in the Tour.

Millar is racing again. As everyone who follows cycling knows, he’s back in the peloton after his fall from grace – he is one of the contenders. But how did this young Scott fall so deep?

What Millar describes, is a sport where doping is the rule more than anything else. From describing his childhood and how he got started with professional cycling, doping is something he’s quickly aware of – but staying away from. He doesn’t want anything to do with it but eventually he succumbs to the pressure and starts injecting, first just with various supplements, later with the real stuff.

Millar’s story is a typical example of how ‘what’s normal’ changes. When you’re constantly living in a world where it is normal to dope and to have various tactics to avoid the doping controls, you are gradually changing your perception of normality. Slowly, Millar’s aversion towards doping lessens until his defenses against it, is completely gone.

Still, throughout it all he claims that he never viewed the victories won when doped, as real. ‘If I won doped then it meant nothing, I was very clear on that.’ (p. 174). But his changed perception of normality as well as his curiosity get the better of him: ‘I’d proved what I could do clean – how much more could I do if I was doped?’ (p. 177). With all his struggle against it, you would have thought his first time doing EPO would have been a huge deal – instead it turned out to be something of an anticlimax. He describes it as the easiest injection he ever had and the whole procedure as very tiny process, over in a couple of minutes. Of course, he had been slowly conditioned to this through a long period and was completely used to self-injections of various supplements.

Millar comes out of it all as a crusader against doping. He wants to save his sports, he wants to make it clean and show that you are actually able to win even if you’re racing clean. And this is how he comes across in his book. As a very honest Scot who loves to race and ride his bike clean and who wants everyone else to do the same. However, I did check out a few things online while reading this book and apparently Millar has changed his story from he testified till he wrote this book. So he might be a bit of an unreliable author, there are names he doesn’t share and there might be things he doesn’t tell us. It’s hard do tell. But he does come across as very honest and the book is very interesting to read.

One of the dominating riders in this period, has of course been Lance Armstrong. Millar does say that the riders winning the big races like the Tour, the Giro and the Vuelta, were the ones using doping. However, he doesn’t say Lance doped: ‘I can’t say definitively if Lance doped or not. Yes, there are all the stories and rumours, but I never saw him dope with my own eyes. If he did dope, then, after all that he has said and done, it would be unforgivable. Certainly, his performances in the Tour were extraordinary, unprecedented, but then he’s unlike anybody I have ever met, a force of nature. /…/ He is a phenomenal human being – I would never argue against that. He lives life on a different level, controlling his world in omnipotent manner, leading by example but also be fear. His ability to motivate, based on his absolute self-belief and complete fearlessness of failure, is legendary. His own lack of fear brainwashes those around him to believe in everything he does.’ (p. 297-298). He also says that the riders riding alongside Lance, were for the most part taken for doping when no longer riding with Lance – and several of these are the ones now accusing Lance of doping. I guess we’ll know eventually if he did dope or not what with the current investigation going on – although I rather doubt that anti-doping will ever get this period of professional cycling completely under control.

Still, this is not a book about Lance. It’s a book about one man’s love of the sport of cycling, and luckily, this shines through throughout the book – except for these instances where doping has cast such a dark shadow over the sport that Millar plans on never riding again.

For a lover of professional cycling and the Tour de France, there’s plenty of good stuff in this book. In fact, it’s a really interesting book and definitely worth reading to get an inside look on the doped years of professional cycling as well as David Millar’s career and the portraits he gives of other riders. I’ll leave you with this beautiful quote about wearing the yellow jersey in theTour de France: ‘I wasn’t wearing the yellow jersey; the yellow jersey was gracing me.’ (p. 127).

[Barbara McVeigh · Rating 4 out of 5]

A well-written inside view of doping culture in professional cycling. Also, the book provides a look into the life and mindset of a professional athlete. Millar admits:

[B]eing a professional athlete's partner or relative is not easy because we live very selfish, goal-oriented lives.

Although we're often at home, we are rarely actually there,
our heads being wrapped up in whatever our next sporting objective may be. At times the self-absorption is taken to the point of obsession. Life boils down to the cycle of racing, training, eating, resting, dieting.

And if one of those functions isn't going well, the subsequent
neurosis leads to misery. The smallest issues can become the most important things in life and reality slips away.

As revealing as the book is, I can help but feel that it's being told with some restraint. But this book isn't a sensationalist finger-pointing tell-all. David Millar wants to change the culture of sport by sharing his personal descent and survival.

I would highly recommend this book for sports fans, even those who "don't like to read". Even at nearly 350 pages, the narrative flows quickly, the structure is clear, and the story is compelling.

With renewed doping accusations swirling around Lance Armstrong and the Tour de France starting this week, Racing Through the Dark is compulsory pre-race reading.

[Giles Knight · Rating 5 out of 5]

A powerfully written and open autobiography of a stubbornly talented cyclist, who started out as a naive young pro defiantly against doping, who was slowly and gradually lured in and caught up in the world of cheating, banned for two years and returned clean, an anti-doping figurehead.

Millar's journey was a lonely one, born to an RAF family, constantly on the move, Millar spent time living in Malta, Scotland, England & Hong Kong before securing a contract cycling in France where he seen made a name for himself earning a pro contract the year later.

Millar's early pro career showed much promise riding clean as his team which facilitated cheating doped around him. After his break through season, team leader responsibilities followed and leading a constantly lonely high pressure life, Millar finally succumbed to the world of doping that he had so tried to resist.

The book tells the tale of this likeable self reflecting man, battling doubts and demons whilst he slowly battles back to success and fame as a new man with purpose; The outspoken former doper, resenting what he had become and bidding to fix the sport he loves as an anti doping spokesman, educating his generation whilst making sure the next don't suffer the fate. Dave Brailsford in particular comes out of this book a true hero.

Brilliantly told, an inspirational book that I thoroughly enjoyed. A true underdog story.

[Ashley · Rating 4 out of 5]

The writing in this autobiography/memoir definitely challenges the notion that athletes are dumb and inarticulate. Millar does an excellent job of leading you down the path he took that resulted in him doping and the one that took him back to clean riding. It's not a flattering portrayal of the cycling world, but it does seem like an honest one. For me, it was also a good introduction to cycling as a sport and all that goes into strategy, preparation, team dynamics, racing schedule, etc. Understanding the sport better definitely makes it more interesting to watch.

[Timmy · Rating 3 out of 5]

Two quotes from convicted doper David Millar really sum up this book.

1. "My teammate David Mountcoutie took the stage, and I advised him so effectively on time-trialing techniques that he managed to hold on to the leader's jersey and beat me into second place overall. I like to think that I remain very generous when it comes to advising my teammates on time trialing."

His teammate won and beat this time trial specialist Millar, not by his own volition. No, it was from David Millar telling him how to race. To Millar be the glory.

And after being caught red-handed doping and seeing a quack...

2. "He made me understand that most of the decisions I'd made were unavoidable, considering the personality and upbringing I'd had."

There you have it. David Millar is absolved from any guilt of his years of cheating. He's almost the victim in the whole situation.

I could go on and on but it's this self absorbed lack of any self awareness that permeates to the point of hilarity! This is my 5th or so cycling book in the past few months and through them I've learned two concrete facts.

1. If you race professionally, you are a sociopath.

2. If you own a bike and use it more than twice a week, you aren't a total sociopath but you are borderline.

Racing Through the Dark...three stars.

[Gumble's Yard - Golden Reviewer · Rating 3 out of 5]

Candid and revealing autobiography - very well written if a little self justifying and at times still hypocritical - Millar talks a lot about not just Omerta but also about: non dopers and team managers who pretend the doping problem isn't as bad as it is (while never really accusing anyone except Saunier Duval of doping who wasn't already caught); ex-dopers who refuse to admit their guilt in contrast to his behaviour (while not really acknowledging his admission was down to cracking under police interrogation). Nevertheless a very good read and remarkable for the insight it gives not just into doping but Millar's own irresponsible behaviour until and even after his conviction (he comes across as someone lacking any real moral compass and direction and so vulnerable to doping).

[Jo Highton · Rating 3 out of 5]

David Millar's autobiography is frank, sometimes painful, and full of interest. Dramatic start - his arrest in Biarritz after dinner with Dave Brailsford. Then the rest of the book goes back to his boyhood and earlier life, how he got into professional cycling and was then led astray into the clutches of doping and what has happened since. I found it an eye-opener, having watched him over the years in the Tour de France and lately having enjoyed his insiders-view commentary and analysis on the Tour and the Vuelta.

[Insidebooks · Rating 4 out of 5]

I guess you either believe in second chances or you don't. Personally I do so its good to see millar come out through the mess of doping a stronger person and an advocate of the beauty of cycling clean

[Shauna · Rating 5 out of 5]

Absolutely loved this. Incredibly honest and sucked me in from paragraph one.

[Alan Hamilton · Rating 4 out of 5]

A fascinating read illustrating the loneliness and dedication of the professional cyclist. I would recommend this to all sports fans. Even non-cyclists will find it very interesting.

[Alice Whittaker · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m relatively new to pro cycling and so this book is so eye-opening to (some of) the history of doping in the sport. David Millar’s story is gripping from start to finish and you really feel for him the whole time. You feel his frustration with the system and how it builds until he starts doping. You also feel the relief as you see the changes made to the sport in the later years. It’s such a compelling read and I really enjoyed it!

[Nick Sweeney · Rating 5 out of 5]

David Millar famously doped and got done, later saying he'd left the evidence out in full view because of a subconscious need to unburden himself of the dope, the pressure to succeed and the pressure of his managers and team-mates. He starts his book, appropriately enough, with this event. He also sketches a scene from after his comeback from doping, his famously 'epic fail' when the 2009 Tour de France visited Barcelona - almost his home - and he went for it only to be swallowed up by the bunch less than 1KM from the finishing line. These are two expertly drawn pictures of the fortunes of a pro cyclist, the pain, the disgrace, the low points.

David Millar was young and kind of gauche when he came into cycling. He wasn't the stereotypical rough diamond, had an educated air to him, partly put over by his neutral accent - international Brit middle class, it seemed, from having lived an expat life in Hong Kong, and from going to various private schools. He was an engaging rider, and, of course, being British, was the Great British Hope for a while before the days of Sky and a concerted, funded programme for British cycling. That was a lot of pressure for any young rider to be under.

He has an engaging style of writing, and, somehow, you can tell it's him, and not some ghost writer. It also seems, to me at least, 'very David Millar' - the writing is clearly in his own voice, so it's natural, and therefore a great read. He doesn't pull any punches when writing about himself, so, in addition to the incidents he starts with, we get his memory of himself as a quietly determined child, but also a potentially lazy one, academically, and the feeling that, had bike racing not distracted him at an early age, he might have led a bit of an aimless life. I like his honesty about himself; it's the first requirement for a readable autobiography.

Millar was good, with or without 'preparation' - performing-enhancing drugs (PEDs) like EPO and testosterone. He could really have been a contender, and he was, producing marathon performances in his days before doping. Like Lance Armstrong, he saw the way the sport was going, the 'peloton a deux vitesses', or the two-speed race, and had to make a decision about whether he would settle for being an honest also-ran or a dishonest winner. DM doesn't excuse himself with this dilemma, however, and accepts full responsibility for his actions.

We get a lot of angst, and he would probably agree that it verges on whining sometimes. We see DM go through his training, his striving to be the best, and then hit the wall of the realisation that was with a very dodgy team - French loan sharks Cofidis - whose management seemed a nice liberal bunch but who turned a blind eye to the excesses of their more successful riders, as long as they were winning. So we get portraits of the car crash lives led by Frank Vandenbrouke and Philippe Gaumont. There are also the good guys too, like Millar's fellow-newbie David Moncoutie, and Brad McGee, who were never going to dope, nor to judge Millar, either. DM protects the rider who got him into doping, by calling him 'l'Equipier' - the team mate - which seems odd, as most fans of cycling know his identity anyway. Either his loyalty is touching, or there is some legal issue.

DM is now one of the advocates for a drug-free sport. It's telling that he had to struggle to be an advocate for non-doping, an illustration that the sport wasn't as ready to change as he was. The team he joined after his suspension, Saunier-Duval, soon went from a haven to a nightmare as, isolated from high-profile dopers like Ricardo Ricco, Millar ended up almost friendless on the team. Luckily, he was able to leave to join ex-doper Jonathan Vaughters' new Garmin team, where the ethos was on not denying the past but in making for a better future for the sport. As Saunier-Duval crashed into arrests and prosecutions, Garmin began a rise of the good guys.

Millar's book was published in 2011, so he therefore has the line that, if former hero Lance Armstrong did turn out to have doped, it would be 'unforgiveable'. Millar doesn't have very nice things to say about Bradley Wiggins, who not only blew out Garmin in the middle of a contract, describing the team publicly as ''Wigan' in comparison to 'Man Utd', but also didn't bother following a carefully set up plan to lead out Tyler Farrar (Garmin's not-very-successful sprinter) to a win on the prestigious Champs Elysees. He gives a good insight into the character of Mark Cavendish (who he first met when Cav was about 11, watching a race on the Isle of Man) and I was glad to see that he contradicts a sometimes prevailing view of Cav as a bit of an oik. Some of Millar's friends, such as Matt White and Christian Vandevelde, have since been declared as dopers, but I get the impression from Millar's book that he will be forgiving, going with the advice of Jean-Marie Le Pen, long-standing director of the Tour de France, who kept a photo in his office of the Pope meeting the man who shot him, an illustration of forgiveness.

A very good read, all in all, and, for a change, one that goes beyond cycling and sport, and would make a good story for any reader.

[Emily · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is largely clear-eyed and wholly heartbreaking. Millar is tender toward the vulnerable and angry toward the powerful, and I learned so much reading this book; I’m a better cycling fan for having done so.

[Manuel García Borrego · Rating 4 out of 5]

Es un librazo. Guste más o menos el personaje, es incuestionable la capacidad que tiene para envolverte en su historia, contada con tal inteligencia que hace parecer listos —probablemente más de lo que son— a prácticamente todos los personajes que aparecen, incluidos los que salen escaldados. Su capacidad para leer y analizar a las personas, y la manera de desnudarlas, es fascinante: cuando las menciona por primera vez ya sabes que se viene el ritual, que poco a poco, como si fuera un tiburón, va dando vueltas en torno a ellas, observándolas y midiendo las distancias, hasta acabar dibujando el cuadro completo. El principal problema que tiene el libro, además de que no ha envejecido todo lo bien que podría, es que cuesta creer algunos de sus pasajes: es un tío con tanta cabeza, que ha mentido tanto y de una manera tan creíble a lo largo de su vida, que cuesta entregarse y fiarse de él, y esa reticencia termina por ensombrecer parte del relato.

[Steve · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very interesting read weather you agree with Mr. Millar or not.

Have been a fan of cycling for many years and support any British riders they take on the might of the Europeans in the sport.
David gives a insightful look into the world of the sport and a look at it's darker days from his POV.
Worth your time and hard earned cash.

[Doctor Moss · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book really grabbed me. Yep, David Millar is pretty fascinated with himself, but this is an autobiography after all -- he had to be fascinated enough with himself to write it. Most readers looking at this review probably already know who David Millar is -- he's been an elite professional cyclist for more than 10 years, winning stages of all three grand tours (France, Spain, Italy), specializing in individual time trials. And he is a reformed doper, having been banned from pro cycling for 2 years from 2004 to 2006.

Millar tells his story in three stages. In the first, he is a gifted rider, progressing from almost too-easy dominance in smaller amateur races to the challenges of a new pro. He's up for the challenges, though, eventually winning races while staying clean. All along he's prideful in his quiet, personal anti-doping stance. When he finds that his hematocrit level tested at only 40.1 per cent (well below the threshold of suspicion at 50 percent) after winning the time trial at De Panne, he's excited. He's proven he can win clean against a field he knows is doping. But in one of the most poignant moments of the book, he proudly tells Francesco Casagrande, one of his team leaders, of his feat, and Casagrande just says to another team member, "Why isn't he at 50?" It doesn't matter if you can win clean -- what your team wants is that you race at your max, and your max means doping.

Eventually, Millar hits the wall in his career, due to poor training habits, excessive lifestyle, and, presumably, operating at a disadvantage with respect to riders using EPO and other performance-enhancing drugs and treatments. By this time, he's already taking injections of vitamins to aid recovery from race efforts and sleeping meds to get rested enough to race day after day. Now he accepts doping just as what riders do in order to be successful. He's caught red-handed, and he faces both suspension by the sport and criminal charges in France, where he lives.

In stage 3, Millar makes his comeback. During his suspension, he doesn't ride. He's lost the fun of cycling -- it's turned into a job, and now a job he can no longer perform. And his personal life has gone to hell. But he does pull it together, with help, and he is just gifted enough to get enough initial success to propel himself forward. He returns to the top of the sport again, and now, with Jonathon Vaughters' new clean team, Garmin, he finds what he clearly thinks is his more mature self, a spokesperson for clean cycling.

In the end, Millar takes a strident born-again anti-doping stance. He believes that what he lacked as a younger rider was someone who could give him the encouragement and support he needed to resist doping. Doping was ubiquitous but never talked about among the riders. The silence meant that even clean riders couldn't take a stance or band together for support with other clean riders. Now Millar wants, as an established, successful rider and doping-survivor, to fill that gap for other riders who want to stay clean.

He may be too fervent to be effective at getting other riders to do the same. He "lectures" Lance Armstrong after the 2007 Tour de France, challenging him to "Give something back, help us clean up the sport . . . " It doesn't go well, he says, having "perhaps lectured him for a little too long -- 10 minutes too long" in public. Lance says he has "bigger things to do now" than clean up cycling, and the friendship between the two is pretty much cooked.

I liked Millar at the end of the book. He is full of himself, and he proves that over and over again. But, unlike so many other cyclists, he ultimately admits his frailties. Even after having been caught, so many others, like Floyd Landis, carry on the lie in one way or another, destroying their personal credibility so thoroughly that we wouldn't listen to them even if they did try finally to tell the truth.

[Paul Vernon · Rating 4 out of 5]

OMillar is a thoughtful, clever athlete and his story is full of the mental clashes he felt when he realised doping was commonplace and expected. His journey clearly taught him a lot about himself.

[Stephen Redwood · Rating 4 out of 5]

If you ever thought about becoming a professional cyclist, read this book first. Intense activity, alternated with hours of recovery time (aka boredom), along with constant hunger in pursuit of an amazing power to weight ratio and frequent, dramatically awful, road accidents. All for a career that may not last long and which prepares one for few alternative career paths. If you still can't hold back your enthusiasm, then I guess it's for you. It was for David Millar. Oh and did I mention the drugs? David's dramatic dope fueled rise, downfall and more modest drug free revival is the heart of this morality play. Other than the doping story and the dreadful litany of injuries, much of it describes his turbulent emotional states and the ups and downs of his relationships - within cycling, but also personal. There isn't much in here if you are looking to understand in any detailed way how these athletes train - they seem to rely on frequent and extremely arduous races to get to peak form. But they also seem to be able to fit in not so occasional binge drinking sessions. How they handle the drink plus the huge peaks of performance that are demanded is unfathomable. Although a bit repetitive in the playing out of his constant swings from despair to manic training and back, it's a pretty fascinating account of the drug culture in cycling and how hard it is to resist the norms if one wants to get to the top. Not to condone it, but I'm sure many of the pious critics of these riders are themselves conforming to some rather questionable norms and practices in their own careers. Tyler Hamilton's book and this make a good pairing - same subject, different lenses.

[Neil Blacklock · Rating 3 out of 5]

The tale follows David Millar's rise to pro cycling hero, through his fall because of doping and subsequent redemption as a clean cyclist and campaigner. I have an interest in cycling and love the excitement and aura of the Tour, if you don't share this love you may struggle to maintain interest. The passages with insight into cycling's dark days when doping was widespread are fascinating but this is also the story of one young man's struggle to find their way in life. For me it is the latter that is the most engaging.

What struck me is how innately talented David Millar was, his ascent through the ranks of professional cycling was so rapid. No years of practice and struggling to be noticed for David, no search for the right support and that lucky break. David seemed to turn up, get on the bike and win. The lessons of loosing, struggle and hardship where not acquired and the all too familiar story of a young men with too much, too soon, unfolds. He behaves (badly) like a many others who do in similar circumstances and eventually it comes crashing down.

The road back from disgrace is fuelled by his anger at the way riders were treated and the sport, his sport, degraded by the cycling establishment. Through reconnecting with the spirit of cycling he manages to rediscover a sense of himself. Along the way there are some cracking bike races, described wonderfully, stuff that gets the pulse racing and left me in awe of what professional cyclists do.

I have given this a 3 but it is a three and half. I have dipped into some of the other cycling biographies (never finished one before) and this is better written than most.

[Ed · Rating 3 out of 5]

I love road racing and have found David Millar's television commentary to be insightful and interesting (rare indeed in the world of cycling commentary) so I thought that I'd enjoy this more than it turned out I actually did.

It is an interesting read and Millar writes well but for some reason it didn't grab me as much as Tyler Hamilton's similar exposure of the pitfalls of the peloton in the nineties. This is maybe unfair to Millar as his stance post drugs bust was both honourable and a powerful agent for change in the sport. However, he was never a truly dedicated doper (by the standards of the time) and while it clearly describes the pressure and the environment that leads to doping being so prevalent, it doesn't expose the full sordid depths of what was going on or how systematically some teams were taking advantage of the lack of will to tackle cheating within the sport. Hindsight is always 20-20, but the lack of genuine censure for characters like Lance Armstrong also partly undermines the holier than thou stance that Millar takes towards the end of the book.

Despite not fully grabbing me, this was still a fascinating book and I particularly liked how honestly Millar describes his relationships with other members of the cycling fraternity. The closeness of the bonds that he forged in a competitive and pressured environment are very clear from the (sometimes one-eyed) hero status Millar gives to Cav and Dave Brailsford, standing in stark contrast to his bitterness towards ex teammates like Wiggins where that pressure ended up breaking their relationship.

A solid effort, engaging and honest without being riveting or truly revealing.

[Andrea James · Rating 4 out of 5]

Over the past few years professional cycling events have slowly been growing on me. Like most things, the more you learn the intricacies, the more interesting it becomes. I was a little hesitant about the sport at first as I really disliked Lance Armstrong for repeatedly lying and making people's lives difficult. And of course, because the sport was soaking in performance drugs.

But since my boyfriend had it on in the background, I started to recognise some of the riders and found myself rooting for a couple of them. British cyclists have risen the ranks and Team Sky have come to dominate many of the European competitions. And this has perhaps meant that coverage is now better and production of the highlight shows are also pretty good.

David Millar is the colour commentator on my favourite of all the cycling shows available on Sky. I think he does a decent job of explaining what's going on tactically among the riders and the difficulties faced at various points in the stages.

As I was reading the book, I kept hearing the author's voice narrating it because I started the book not long after the Tour ended.

I enjoyed Millar's storytelling of the races. His descriptions were so vivid that it felt like you were right there on a bike with him. He doesn't make himself out to be a likeable character either. He points out the mistakes that he had made and the times he acted in his interests and to the detriment of his family.

I've shared a few of the highlights I'd made of the book in the new section of Goodreads.

Overall, it's an enjoyable read and I would recommend the book to people who watch professional cycling programmes.

[Marianne Meyers · Rating 4 out of 5]

Some people are scared to read forth-right honesty, it can make them uncomfortable. Professional cyclists, like all professional athletes, tend to become very self-involved - how much food intake, how much water, how to pace oneself, etc. David is an honest man and a professional cyclist who at one time made very bad decisions without much thought. Going through the doping ban made him become who he is today. His wife is right, before the doping ban, he was an asshole and someone I wouldn't have given much thought. But afterwards, he has grown up and become a prominent spokesman for anti-doping, a leader on his team and riding in all his cycling races. He writes so candidly about the choices he made, how he doped, how the "plan" worked, and how it didn't. This is a good read for anyone wanting to understand the mind of a cyclist and the world of doping, the pressure, the shame of making the decision, and in this case, the terror of being arrested and banned from the very thing he loved most. David deserves much respect and credit, most cyclists riding today may have had similar experiences, but won't tell or write it for others. The truth has set him free.