Just a week ago, I was getting ready to go out on my road bike with my friend Jesús , who had also met up with his group . Those three-hour rides, so necessary to break up the monotonous routine of sitting in front of the computer or hanging on the phone with Baggicase coming out of my ears.

The plan was clear: get out there and ride, let's "lean back," as they say in cycling slang. The group had had an intense week, with over 400km accumulated in four days, so the "active rest" day had arrived, and I was there to accompany them on a comfortable day.

We're leaving Jesús's house in search of the group. If all goes as planned, we'll meet up straight ahead. We'll turn around soon and head off together. We'll stop for a coffee in a village about 50 km away, have breakfast, recount the latest stories from Valverde, Sagan, and company, and then head back home. There's not much elevation gain on the route, and the plan is easy, so we should average around 30 km/h.

After approximately 15km, while we were chatting about who knows what, Jesús said to me, "Here they come!" , we changed lanes to go in the same direction as the group and, despite the effort we had to make to try and stop them from getting too far behind us, it was no use. First heated moment of the day, "Come on Javi, push hard so we can get on your wheel!" , so we did, as soon as we reached the tail of the group they greeted us as they do on these occasions, "Come on guys, you're all asleep!"

Since it's my first day with them, I don't know any of them. Well, I'm lying. I do know Mariano . Jesús introduced us a few days before and said, "Come on Friday, it'll be a quiet ride." Mariano turns around and is happy to see me. "Welcome Javi, you're here! Let's go!"

Something's not right. We're flat out at around 45km/h , at the back of the pack, we're doing fantastic, enough to complain! Immediately, Jesús, who's riding next to me, says, "Javi, have you seen who's riding up front?"

I barely had time to look; between the rush of catching them and those first few moments needed to feel my bearings, I didn't even notice. I'm small, so to see where Jesús is telling me to go , I raise my head slightly above the one in front of me, and at first glance, I didn't recognize anyone. Coincidentally, at that very moment, one of them stands up on his pedals to tackle a small incline. Wow, that guy moves his bike! That pedal stroke and that dance on the bike are unmistakable; it's the great Alberto Contador!

I look at Jesus, not yet fully aware of what I'm experiencing . "It's Alberto!" "Shh, shut up, don't say it so loud," Jesus tells me. It's true, in these situations you have to control yourself, even if it's not easy.

I think that the "letting go" thing will not be the case, we are going down the flat faster and faster , there are even moments when I have trouble keeping up with the rear wheel of the group, we exceed 50km/h and in sections where it goes downhill we exceed 60km/h .

It's incredible to be part of this group, how they all are going! It's a pleasure to see them, perfect cadence, good stride and fuel for a while. After the first few kilometers, the first doubts assail me . I'm not doing badly; I'm at my best on the flat, but if we hit a steep, long climb, I might drop back. The crowd here is incredibly active. If Contador is in the group, the crowd is extra motivated and they'll give even more than usual . I handle the first few climbs well, although at the cost of spending more than necessary .

Arriving at the breakfast village, Mariano gets up to me, "How are you Javi? You look good!", "Ugh, I'm already using the hook, this slope is long and I don't know if I can handle it", "No way, let's go!" , he sees that I'm just going and gives me a little push, just enough to finish the slope without dropping off "Thanks Mariano, man, you're going so fast!"

We arrive at breakfast and it's time to really get a close look at Contador . We enter the cafeteria. A small commotion forms among the customers upon seeing Alberto, and several ask for photos. We sit down, and before ordering our coffees , Alberto extends his hand, welcoming me . "My name is Javi. Nice to meet you, Alberto."

What do you say in these cases where you find yourself shaking the hand of one of those people who have changed their sport, which is also your sport, who have made you enjoy things you never imagined and who have shown a class and courage rarely seen ? How do you express that gratitude without being a pain? With a smile and a look of admiration and gratitude, I can't think of any other way, and, call me naive, but I think it reached them through their gaze and their smile in return.

The conversation is relaxed, with coffee for everyone and the occasional toast. We talk about bikes , equipment , cycling clothing , etc. I mostly just listen. I don't know them very well, but they talk so much and so well about cycling that I easily become enthralled.

After about half an hour and the appropriate photos with new clients, we leave. Just before we get on the bike, a friend notices a broken spoke. Alberto, very active, gives him ideas on how to fix it . So many hours on the bike have given him enough experience to overcome these mishaps.

The return is terrible . From the very beginning, Contador starts pushing hard, and we gradually fall behind . Some are still able to keep up with him, but most of us can't keep up. It's no problem because they wait for us every few kilometers, and we do the last part together and more calmly.

We say goodbye to everyone, and as we head home, Jesús and I exchange knowing glances, one of those looks where you say more than you could even talk for hours. It's been an incredible day for me, and Jesús knows it.