Sir Mark Cavendish, Le Tour, and a Burrito

In 1903, a French newspaper printed on yellow paper was in crisis. Its circulation was weak. It needed a big idea. Pushed by the pressure of failure, journalist Géo Lefèvre blurted out an idea.

He suggested, "What if the paper sponsored a six-stage, 1,500-mile bike race around France?" It was magnifique and has become a moving collection of stories that capture the human experience. 

This year's edition of 2170 miles or 3,500 km finishes today in Nice, not Paris, and it's been stupéfiante. Frenchman Romain Bardet held back a surging peloton to win on day one, Biniam Girmay became the first Black man to win not only one but three stages, Richard Carapaz won Ecuador's first stage for America's EF Education team, and, of course, Tadej Pogačar was relentless as he cruised to his third victory. 

But the Isle of Man's Sir Mark Cavendish's hero's journey united the peloton as he became the most prolific Tour de France stage winner. 

When he started his professional career with a chip on his shoulder, he pedaled in anger. He was almost unbeatable on flat, high-speed routes, and through an old happy view, you would have believed he was living a charmed life. 

But privately, he was struggling. Then came crashes, team transfers, and over four years without a victory. He suffered from Epstein-Barr and depression. In 2020, emotionally and physically broken, he believed his career was over. 

In 2021, he was signed for minimum wage and was a last-minute addition to the Tour. That year, like a phoenix rising, he surprised everyone by winning four stages and tying the record for the most Tour stage wins held by cycling's G.O.A.T., Eddy Merckx. 

The following year, he started strongly, but a month after he won the British National Championship, his team canceled his contract, and he wasn't selected to race in France. He wondered if he would get another chance to break the record. 

Luckily Mark was hired to race in 2023 for what he declared to be his last year by a team run by a former cyclist. Unfortunately, he crashed out before breaking the record.

As he nursed a broken collarbone, it was a moment to Pause, Breathe, Reflect on whether to surrender to retirement or face the pain and suffering of training to come back again. Through the support of his "peloton," he decided to keep pedaling. 

When he started his career, he was the type of rider you liked only if he was on your team, but coming into this year's start in Italy, the whole peloton was rooting for him. 

Then, on stage 5, at 39 years old, he outsprinted guys who grew up with his poster on their bedroom walls and raised his hands in glory. What was remarkable, and I've never seen this happen, is that the guys he beat (except for one) were smiling with him as they rode across the line behind him. He was humble and grateful and oozed a boyish charm in celebration. He finally seemed happy from the inside out. 

There's nothing like the Tour—in the cyclists, we witness our human story of strength, vulnerability, resilience, grit, unity, isolation, suffering, joy, fear, hope, tragedy, and triumph, and to witness it in person, you truly feel its energy. 

So, what do Alvarado's and Le Tour have in common? For one, they are both beautiful stories worth sharing. The latter started over a hundred years ago, and people told people who told people about it, and today, it's a global event. (FYI, The Tour de Femmes starts on August 12th)

Last December, after joining Rich Roll on his podcast and helping my youngest pack up after her college semester, I went exploring for a celebratory burrito.

Plenty of Chipotles and other chains were just a few miles away. However, I found a place off the ordinary path. Next to a Spirit 76 gas station, I discovered the family-owned Alvarado's Mexican Grill.

Their little place had energy and soul—you could tell they cared that I walked in and appreciated my Google review so others could discover the "love, tradition, and authentic flavors that have united generations" they are trying to share with the world. 

Chipotle may have more reviews and followers, but it lacks energy. It's convenient, yes—a healthier Mickey D's? Maybe. But when you walk in, it feels like you're just a market share number, and nobody wants to feel that way.

The Alvarados gambled that enough people would care as much as they did about what they wanted to create and that these people would tell others, who would, in turn, tell others. That's how ripples turn into waves. 

Mediocrity begets mediocrity until that's all we have. We get what we support, which is essential for both a good life and delicious burritos.

The Alvarados won't be as famous as the world's biggest annual sporting event, but their story is no less extraordinary, as are countless others taking a risk to put something in the world that wakes us up so we realize that we don't have to settle for fine, but rather, we can support things that create the world we desire. 

Until next week, burritos and baguettes as we have fun storming the castle. Keep pedaling my friends. 

Michael

+++++

Thanks for reading The Ripple Effect, a weekly series where I ripple goodness into your feed. It's filled with things that we need more of today, like inspiration, perspective, kindness, gratitude, and the value of mindfulness. 

Want to make sure you receive The Ripple Effect? 

Subscribe to this series using the button above, and let me know what you want to hear about using #RipppleEffect in the comments below.