THE SECRET TRACK CYCLIST - WHEREABOUTS

At some point, every track cyclist has to explain whereabouts to a normal person. This never goes well.

Whereabouts, for those unfamiliar, is a simple system where you must tell the authorities where you will be, every day, months in advance, to prove you are not cheating.

Simple.

You log on. You enter locations. You confirm a one-hour window where you guarantee you will be available for testing.

You do this while travelling, training, racing, and attempting to live something resembling a normal life.

You are allowed to change it, of course.

As long as you remember.

You explain this to someone outside the sport.

“So… they track you?”

“No.”

“But they know where you are?”

“Yes.”

“And if you’re not there?”

“That’s a missed test.”

“And how many of those before it’s a problem?”

“Three.”

Their face changes.

This is the moment they realise you are living in a system that sounds illegal when spoken out loud.

You try to simplify it.

A friend says, “So it’s simple really, just like a one-hour delivery window for a parcel?”

You pause.

“Yes,” you say. “Except if you miss it three times, your career is over.”

They stop smiling.

The stress does not come from doping. Nobody is stupid enough to do that now. It comes from admin.

You do not fear tests. You fear calendar errors.

You wake up at 5am in a hotel room, heart racing, because you cannot remember if you updated your location after booking a flight.

You check your phone. Relief.

Then you realise you are in the wrong time zone.

You update it again.

The one-hour window becomes sacred. Everything else is flexible. Training can move. Meals can move. Plans can move.

The window cannot.

You will sit perfectly still in a hotel room for sixty minutes, afraid to shower in case someone knocks while you are shampooing.

If a doorbell rings, you freeze.

If a knock comes early, you panic.

If it comes late, you panic more.

Sometimes, nobody comes.

This is also stressful.

Later, someone outside the sport asks, “Why don’t they just test you at competitions?”

You smile politely.

Because explaining that why this is not enough is exhausting.

You live like this for years.

Then one day, you are no longer required to file whereabouts.

Nothing changes.

You still wake up thinking you have forgotten something.

Because anti-doping does not just test your body. It trains your anxiety around systems, schedules, and the quiet fear of getting the admin wrong.

Secret Track Cyclist is an anonymous diary inspired by real-life experiences in elite track cycling. Each entry is written from the perspective of a different figure within the sport. Names, identities, and events are intentionally obscured to protect this week's author.