It is five o'clock and I am sitting at my laptop. I'm getting ready for a 60-kilometre run through the polder. Just to clear my head. A bar goes into my shirt, I fill my water bottles and pull my bike out of the shed. Into the polder.

We go on the road

After 15 kilometres or so, I spot a fellow rider in the distance, racing by himself. Great, I have a target point. The wind is against me and at 36 in the hour I ride towards it. Getting closer, I see a sturdy man, about fifty I guess, but with the shaved calves of someone who has been cycling all his life. I push on to outpace him, and succeed. I immediately leave him behind in the empty polder. Small victory; nice.

Unfortunately, I have to brake for a traffic light. Too bad, because I was just getting into it nicely. Neatly I squeeze the brakes, while the man I had just overtaken pops full through a red light. Not quite decent, but then again, I have a new target. When I overshoot him for the second time, he does get on my wheel. This time he was better prepared than the first time.

wheeled vacuum cleaner
Wheel piston

The wheelsucker

Just testing how tough the best man is. 36 becomes 37, 37 becomes 38. His calves had already somewhat betrayed his toughness and he remains stoically in my wheel, without even giving an impetus to take over once. Clearly; I am dealing with a wheel sucker. Also known as a wheel-sucker. Partly because I am starting to feel my own legs, I decide to leave it at that and accept that Peter - that is what I have since come to call him - will continue to shadow me for the next few kilometres. Neatly I signal the loose manhole covers, the people we overtake and the speed bumps.

After about 15 kilometres there is another red traffic light and because of the crowds, Peter is also forced to squeeze the brakes. He comes up next to me on the left and I look at him, waiting for him to thank me for all the work I have done in the lead. He doesn't give me a glance. Prick. While the light is still red, he finds a quieter moment and pulls himself back on track. In the distance, he turns off. I race on by myself again.

Do you always have a cycling buddy in your wheel? Then pull these socks on! Or give them as gifts to make a statement!