Doc's great at keeping folks rolling

In tribute to a just-completed bicycle week that included, among other things, bike-to-school day, bike-to-work day, bike-to-work-with-the-mayor day, free bicycle tune-ups, a bicycle safety awareness ride and yesterday's Salt Lake Century, I would like to thank all those responsible for keeping me somewhat bike vertical, beginning with my new personal trainer/physician, Dr. Max Testa.

Dr. Testa and I hooked up about three weeks ago when I walked into his office at TOSH (The Orthopedic Specialty Hospital) in Murray and whined, "My knee hurts."

Immediately he began making adjustments.

To my bike.

I know, I had the same reaction.

My kind of doctor.

With practiced fingers and an Allen wrench, he moved the seat back, raised the handlebars, flipped the stem and said, "Try that."

This was obviously not his first bike fitting.

Dr. Testa, it turns out, has been around. Before me he also worked with, let's see, Levi Leipheimer, David Zabriskie, Andy Hampton, Davis Phinney, George Hincapie, the entire 7/Eleven cycling team, the Motorola team after that, and that other guy, Lance Armstrong. When Armstrong was starting out he moved to northern Italy because that's where Max lived.

During the 1980s and '90s Testa worked the Tour de France 17 years in a row as a team physician. He's heard more people curse the Alp d'Huez in more languages than maybe anybody.

He might still be in Europe, doing that, had he not struck up a friendship with a cyclist from America named Eric Heiden. After conquering speedskating at the Lake Placid Olympics in 1980, where he won five gold medals in five races, Heiden turned to competitive cycling and even raced once in the Tour de France, which he did not conquer. But he did meet Dr. Testa and later, after Heiden also became a doctor, in his case an orthopedic surgeon, he talked his friend from Italy into joining him in practice in America.

They first set up camp in California, where athletes followed them like gnats. Then last year they were recruited to Utah by TOSH, whose goal, it turned out, was the same as theirs: to be the best sports medicine and injury prevention facility in the universe. And not just for athletes with resting heart rates so low they're undetectable but also for the super-size masses hopped up on carbonated beverages.

They'll take anybody.

Roll your bike into Testa's office. You'll see.