I stumbled into this story like a pill‑popping gonzo journalist craving a fix of absurdity—with the UCI, cycling’s go-to power cartel, reportedly about to green‑light ketone supplements.
Four years of bureaucratic fumbling, a mad dash through science labs, and now they’re saying: “Sure, don’t mention the war.” Expect the official nod at Kigali in late September, when the World Champs roll through Rwanda.
Science or Circus? The Study That Wouldn’t Quit
Back in 2021, the UCI set out with earnest intentions: study ketones, stick to science, and maybe slam them with a ban. By 2025, they’ve concluded: “Eh, they’re safe, and performance gains are meh at best.” A four‑year slog into the murky world of exogenous ketones—synthetic fuel pumped into a starved liver—that ends in shrugging ambivalence.
The UCI’s own doc, Xavier Bigard, once predicted minimal impact—dependent on dosage, ester types, and intake timing.
Yet, puzzlingly, teams signed up, riders polished their bottles of ketone esters, and the pros hoovered them like sacramental Kool‑Aid.
Peloton Powdered in Chaos
Forget the yellow jersey—picture two camps: the pro‑ketone trippers (Visma‑Lease a Bike, Soudal Quick‑Step, Alpecin‑Deceuninck) and the die‑hard anti‑keto cult led by MPCC members like Bardet, Martin, Red Bull‑Bora‑Hansgrohe. The latter considers ketones a “grey‑area doping,” not outright EPO-level dirty, but close enough to make them twitchy.
MPCC’s bulletin doesn’t mince words: “This delay is embarrassing—either ban it or clear the ether once and for all”.
Meanwhile, riders scoff or pout: “I forbid myself to take them” says Guillaume Martin, encapsulating the moral high wire of modern pro cycling
But still, whispers run through caravans: a full 75% of riders at the last Tour tipped back ketone shots.
It’s caffeine, carbs—and now ketones. The supplement trifecta that costs £30 per 25 ml serving and still leaves performance payoffs somewhere between shrug and “eh, maybe”
The Price of Rocket Fuel
Let’s talk cold hard cash. A 25ml shot of ketone ester doesn’t just taste like burnt synthetic despair—it costs a fortune. Think £30, more on some shelves.
Professor Javier Gonzalez from Bath University sums it up: “Cost–benefit ratio is small… cheap carbs, caffeine, recovery – they’re better bang for buck”.
It’s like paying premium for filtered air—sure, it’s cleaner, but you still breathe oxygen.
And amid all this, the UCI sits on the fence. Let the trials finish in September, then vote. No caution, no bans, no embargo—just a hollow nod to “credibility.”
Meanwhile, pro squads slap sponsorship deals with ketone companies and grin like junkies hooked on a placebo.
Psychedelia Meets Clean Sport
Cue the gonzo drums: Hunter S. Thompson might’ve described the peloton’s new elixir as some “lunatic pharmaceutical voodoo,” far beyond caffeine’s dogma. Riders parade with little vials, labelling them “rocket fuel,” half-believing the hype, half hiding the dread.
There’s an article titled “Ketones: Rocket fuel or overpriced hype?”. The answer’s simple: “They’re not magic.” Still, helmet‑clad astronauts toss them into bidons hoping for superpowers.
And then there’s MPCC’s populist roar—clean-cycling zealots demanding clarity—blaming UCI’s lethargy for smudging the sport’s moral mirror
Delaying a verdict until 2025? In their view, a scandal.
Fast‑Forward to September: Kigali’s Grandstand
Mark your calendars: late September, Kigali hosts the UCI Road World Championships—where the Pro Cycling Council and Management Committee finally roll the dice. Approval is expected
What happens next?
- Full nod: Ketones become part of the legal peloton kitbags. Expect surging sponsorship money, ads on buses, and Instagram addicts plug shots like juice.
- Ban reinstated: It’d be a revolt—teams scramble to hide stash at the back of buses, riders deal with backlash and scrambled nutrition plans.
- Moderated allowance: Maybe rules on timing, dosage thresholds, and lab testing. A technocratic compromise.
The Bitter Truth
We are a nation of freaks, chasing performance by chemical whim—Ketones, once a secret of fatty-fuel zealots, now mainstream grease. The UCI, ever the bureaucratic carnival barker, waits to shout into a mic: ‘Here’s your carnival of marginal gains, play safe, play clean… or play absurd.’
After all, the verdict is marginal. They’re safe. They’re not magic. They’re expensive. But legal. And a stinking tribute to modern performance’s endless quest.
Riders will clink bottles in late‑September Kigali, not champagne but ketone shots—liquid placebo in custom bottles. They chase that crumb of edge; peer into labs and warp metabolisms in search of speed.
Yet the punchline? Europe’s sports cartel says: “Yeah, it’s fine. We approve it. Now shut up and race.” And that, dear reader, is where science meets absurdity—to pedal-on in a spinning vortex of hype, money, and questionable gains.
