PARIS — So the first race of Lance Armstrong's return to cycling showed that he's back to his lean if not so mean former self and thus warrants our full attention.

The challenge now is to keep that interest going. And that will get tougher for his 37-year-old legs as the roads get steeper and finally monstrous at the Tour de France in July.

Flashing a few nifty pedal-strokes on modest hills and wind-swept roads in Australia, as he did at the season-opening Tour Down Under last week, is one thing. Staying with and beating younger, hungry riders on inhuman giants like the Mont Ventoux ascent in Provence or climbs in Italy in May will be another.

In short, Armstrong's first week back in the peleton after 3 1/2 years of — he said disingenuously — "drinking beer and sitting on my ass" did not lay to rest the question that everyone's been asking, the same question he asked of his coach Chris Carmichael in December: "You think this old dog can still hunt?"

And perhaps that's the point.

The longer he keeps people guessing, the longer he'll keep their attention, even if other worthy riders — like Tour Down Under winner Allan Davis — sometimes deserve it more. As this comeback unfolds, Armstrong doesn't necessarily need to win. He simply has to perform strongly enough, look fit and motivated enough, to make people believe that he could. That will keep the spotlight on Armstrong, providing the platform and audiences the cancer-survivor seeks for his Livestrong campaign against the disease. Had he rolled up in Oz as a beer-bellied has-been, the credibility of his comeback and the cancer campaign would have quickly evaporated in the Adelaide sun.

Promoting Livestrong is the main reason the seven-time Tour de France champ climbed back in the saddle and resumed painful training. Sure, the fierce competitor in him would love to stick it to the other guys again. Winning the May 9-31 Giro d'Italia, at his first attempt, would fill a gap in Armstrong's resume and edge him closer to Eddy Merckx, the five-time Tour and Giro winner whom Armstrong calls "the greatest of all time."

But he has built his season as much around cancer as around cycling. In his former incarnation as a steely competitor focused laser-like on winning in France in July, Armstrong never chose Australia to start his year. But for Armstrong the campaigner, the Tour Down Under was a logical choice in part because of Australia's world-leading skin cancer rates.

And he's riding the centennial Giro this year not only because he's never done so before, but also because of what Armstrong says is "a significant stigma" associated with cancer in Italy.

"We researched the disease in Italy for more than a year and the results showed that some still believe cancer is a death sentence and people don't want to discuss it," Armstrong told The Associated Press, in an e-mailed response to questions. "Others think that there is nothing you can do to prevent it or treat it successfully. We need to change those beliefs. By riding my bike for several weeks in the country and launching our anti-stigma campaign, we can have an impact."

He added: "In France my aim is to use the most recognized and visible cycling event in the world to highlight the global burden of this disease. Cancer will be the 1 killer in the world by 2010 and most people around the world don't know that."

So in the combination of campaigning and competition, Armstrong has found a new lease on his cycling life.

Former teammate George Hincapie, who knows Armstrong better than most, said in Oz that he hadn't seen his friend so enthusiastic and excited about racing in perhaps 15 years. Even the French were impressed. Jeremy Roy of the Francaise des Jeux team was thrilled to join Armstrong on a surge ahead of the main pack on the third of the 6 stages. In an e-mail to The AP, Roy wrote that Armstrong didn't seem "at all rusty. He has rediscovered all of his reflexes."

They include speaking out when he's not happy. His complaint on stage 3 that a helicopter was getting too close as it filmed the race, dousing the riders in wind, was pure Armstrong of yore, a throwback to The Boss at the Tour who dealt out tongue-lashings to organizers and journalists alike. The Armstrong in Oz seemed mellower, cuddling a kangaroo and patiently and good-humoredly answering the inevitable questions about how his comeback was progressing.

Amid the eucalyptus and palms, Armstrong finished ahead of 93 other guys, but was still 49 seconds off Davis' pace.

The race was dominated by daily sprint finishes — which were never Armstrong's strength. But clearly, there's still a fair amount of daylight between Armstrong's current fitness and the expectation that coach Carmichael voiced during training in Hawaii in January. There, motoring alongside Armstrong as he panted up a long and steep climb like those that could expose his old legs in Europe, Carmichael yelled "This is your year, man! 2009!"

As much as it is dangerous, perhaps even stupid, to write off a man as determined as Armstrong, it is difficult to imagine him staying with younger riders like Ivan Basso in Italy or his own teammate Alberto Contador in France. There's no mistaking those gray flecks in Armstrong's close-cropped hair.

But winning won't matter so much if Armstrong feels, when his season is done, that his cancer message has been heard.

"I would love to have success on the bike and I hope I am able to compete at the highest level," he said in the e-mail to the AP. But "this campaign aims to reduce the stigma associated with cancer, educate people all over the world about this disease that kills more people each year than AIDS, malaria and TB combined, and to have world leaders and individuals around the world commit to fight this disease in their country, through their company or organization, or in their community. If we accomplish this we will have changed the health of the world forever and that would be more important than winning any race."

John Leicester is an international sports columnist for The Associated Press. Write to him at jleicester@ap.org.