Sir Bradley Wiggins CBE, a legend really. He is Britain’s cycling icon and the first Briton to win the Tour de France, was once the face of national pride. His victories at the 2012 Olympics turned him into a symbol of discipline and determination. But behind the gold medals and charming public persona was a man quietly sinking into trauma, addiction, and self-destruction.“I wasn’t on cocaine the first time we met,” Wiggins recalls in a recent interview with Time. “But I was the night before.”The admission marks how far one of Britain’s most celebrated athletes had fallen, and how complex the relationship can be between success, trauma, and mental health.The Trauma No One Talks AboutWiggins’ journey into darkness began long before the drugs. As a teenager, he was sexually abused by his cycling coach, Stan Knight. From ages 13 to 16, what began as “training guidance” turned into years of manipulation and assault.“He’d tell me it was for sport, that men shower together,” Wiggins said. “He’d demonstrate how to clean myself, touch me, show me what to do. That’s how it started.”For decades, he buried those memories under medals and fame. Speaking about them for the first time in 2023 was both liberating and devastating. “It just poured out,” he said. “I’d never told anyone. When I finally did, I broke down for an hour after reading it.”The confession triggered others to come forward—four men who said they too had been abused by Knight. It became a small but powerful #MeToo moment within British cycling.The Descent into AddictionRetirement from cycling should have been peaceful. Instead, it exposed the emotional void that sport had masked for decades. Wiggins turned to cocaine, a habit that spiralled rapidly.“I was high most of the time for years,” he admitted. What began as occasional use became constant dependence. He isolated himself in hotel rooms for days, sometimes weeks. “My ex-wife, Cath, came to find me once. She said, ‘You’re going to die, Brad.’ She found 120 empty Covid-test tubes filled with cocaine residue in an Aesop bag.”At his lowest, he ran out of money and slept on park benches. “Clapham Common. It was scary,” he said quietly. “I don’t know how I didn’t die.”Addiction research shows that unresolved trauma dramatically increases the risk of substance use. According to mental-health experts, drugs often serve as a way to numb pain or silence intrusive memories. Wiggins’ story mirrors that pattern, a man trying to escape the ghosts of childhood abuse and the pressure of public perfection.Hitting Rock Bottom and Finding HelpHis turning point came in 2023 after a desperate plea to his son Ben, himself a cyclist. “I sent him a video, crying. I didn’t think he’d judge me. He never does.” Soon after, fellow cyclist Lance Armstrong flew him to the U.S., helped him enter rehab, and encouraged him to face his addiction head-on.Now a year sober, Wiggins attends Narcotics Anonymous meetings and follows a strict recovery plan. He’s in what the program calls the “accountability phase,” learning to apologise, rebuild relationships, and stay honest. “I wanted to tell my story myself, good and bad,” he says.What Happens In Childhood, Continues To Be With YouWiggins’ memoir, The Chain, reveals how deeply abandonment shaped him. His father, Gary Wiggins, an Australian cyclist, left when Bradley was 18 months old. “I took up cycling to feel close to him,” he admits. The two met briefly when Bradley was 19, before his father’s death in 2008 after a violent assault.Without a stable father figure, the young Wiggins was vulnerable—an easy target for a predatory coach who offered validation disguised as mentorship. “I was lonely,” he says simply. “It was really lonely.”Even now, the emotional scars are deep. “There’s shame attached to it,” he admits. “It’s emasculating.”Shame is a common barrier for abuse survivors, often delaying disclosure and healing. According to mental-health research, shame distorts self-perception and drives many into self-punishment through addiction or risky behavior.“I never wanted to come across as a victim,” Wiggins insists. “I’m a victim of my own choices.” Yet, slowly, he’s learning self-compassion. “I don’t hate myself anymore,” he says. “I don’t know if I love myself yet—but I’m getting there.”The Ongoing RecoveryWiggins’ recovery revolves around structure, the same discipline that once fuelled his athletic career. His day begins at 6:15 a.m.; he makes his bed, exercises, tracks his sleep and nutrition using an Oura ring, and avoids alcohol entirely.“I live like a professional athlete again,” he says. “If I drink, it might lead me back to cocaine. I can’t risk that.”Physical activity, experts note, can play a crucial role in addiction recovery. Exercise stimulates endorphins, reduces cravings, and helps re-establish healthy routines. “Gym and cycling keep me sane,” Wiggins says. “That sense of freedom I had as a kid—it’s back.”Today, Wiggins lives in Balham, south London. He co-parents his five-year-old daughter Ava and has repaired his relationship with his older children, Ben and Bella. “Taking Ava to school every morning is my daily joy,” he says.He’s no longer homeless, no longer bankrupt, and has started speaking openly about mental health. “I thought about becoming a therapist one day,” he says, laughing. “I’ll probably need more therapy first.”
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