OPINION: This morning I gathered with hundreds of other cyclists for a quick ride around Auckland's bays with sport’s ultimate enfant-terrible, Lance Armstrong.
Ten years ago Armstrong was a major hero of mine.
As a fellow cancer survivor his seven Tour de France titles were an inspiration - that is until the world found out that they had been won illegally using blood doping and performing enhancing drugs.
I almost threw out his famous biography It's All About the Bike, as it was obviously 'all about the drugs'.
Before the ride this morning I wondered what I would say to the man. I even had his book with me for him to sign.
As I waited in the cold dawn at Mechanics Bay for Armstrong to appear, the trickle of Lycra-clad bike riders turned into a flood.
And it wasn't just middle-aged men looking to meet their tarnished hero; there were cyclists of all ages.
"He's a f**king legend," a young man in his early teens told me.
And then the legend materialised.
Armstrong headed straight to the waiting camera and lights, where my Newshub colleagues spoke to him at length.
The Lycra-throng crowded around to worship their idol.
I took a few shots on my phone but didn't ask Armstrong anything. Instead, I studied his face intently as I thought - how many lies has this man told over the years?
And then we were off, the peloton raced out into the Auckland half-light towards Mission Bay.
Many cyclists tried to weave through and get as close to Armstrong as they could - this almost led to a few crashes.
The ride was over in a flash. I didn't get close enough to Armstrong to claim I had actually ridden with him, but at least I'd gotten in an early morning cycle and some exercise.
Armstrong returned to the waiting cameras and spoke for another 15 minutes at least.
Dozens of cyclists took selfies with him - I contemplated approaching him to sign my old tattered copy of It's All About the Bike.
Then I remembered again what Armstrong had done all those years ago.
Ok, most professional cyclists were using the drug EPO back then - it was a major 'tool of the trade', but that doesn't excuse Armstrong's denials and bullying that went on afterwards.
I suddenly felt quite angry - what was I doing out here with hundreds of other Kiwis pawing over this man?
I put his old biography back into my backpack and cycled away.
As a piece of written fiction, It's All About the Bike could easily be retitled It Was All About the Lies.
Newshub.
