Less than three weeks before of the Vuelta a España, the majority of those who would be making up the peloton received troubling news – news that some may have expected but most secretly hoped would never arrive. Tadej Pogačar would be riding the final Grand Tour of the year. In that press release, everything changed, for all the GC riders and all the teams who were basing their race on escaping the clutches of the UAE armada.

There were perhaps two slight hopes that maybe, just maybe, things could be different. Firstly, the world’s No.1 ranked rider might not have recovered fully after his fifth Tour de France victory, and secondly, UAE Team Emirates-XRG could only muster a tired and substandard collective to back him up. Both options seem doomed to failure.

Consulting the Slovenian’s recuperation history, you notice there are no glaring moments of weakness when he has been injury-free. And then with the idea that his teammates might not be up to the task, none of them have done a Grand Tour this year, which means they all arrive at the start in Monaco super motivated to impress everyone.

There may have been a few DNFs due to illness, injury and race incidents for the likes of João Almeida and Jay Vine but this is an opportunity for each of them to grab with both hands, if they can. Remaining high up in the hierarchy of the number one team means they can be spared most of the daily grind and have the chance to be part of the moments that decide the race. They may be described as super domestiques in the service of Pogačar but it is always good to remember they come with statistics that are rather daunting.

Almeida was second here last year and Jay Vine has won four stages and been best climber twice. Basically, they would be team leaders if they weren’t on UAE, which places them in a similar position to the one Isaac Del Toro enjoyed in this year’s Tour de France.

However, contrary to the Tour, the opposition at the Vuelta is certainly weaker. The mathematics are quite simple for Pogačar’s nearest rivals. Jonas Vingegaard rode the Giro d’Italia within himself whenever he could and still finished over five minutes ahead of Felix Gall, and yet one month later on the roads of France the Dane was four and a half minutes in arrears to Pogačar after 14 stages.

We didn’t get to find out if that gap would have grown as Vingegaard left the race on day 15 but what it does tell us is if Pogačar wants to make a statement then second on GC is likely to be close to 10 minutes behind by the finish in Granada.

Total domination is unlikely

Luckily, there are a couple of things that make total domination unlikely. There’ll still be days when Tadej turns on the afterburners and rides away from everyone but this is a race he will want to get through with the least stress possible. Physically, he will need to be fairly cautious as there remain two big objectives afterwards, the World Championships in Montréal and then the season’s final Monument, Il Lombardia, so recovery is important.

And then there’s the mental aspect to consider. A three-week race at this stage of the season, when you have won nearly every race that you planned to, might begin to weigh heavy on the mind. Grand Tours are rarely fun and Pogačar will want the least pressure possible, which is where Almeida and Vine step in and take some of the responsibilities off their team leader’s shoulders. If either are given a chance to take the red jersey then that’s fewer media and podium duties and more recovery for Pogačar.

It’s an opportunity which often opens up when there’s one big favourite and everyone waits for them to make a move, and if the situation happens out on the road then both of the UAE lieutenants will be expected to seize it.

Meanwhile, for those not on UAE, the decision will be when do they start racing for the other podium positions below Pogačar. Cruel it may be, but realistically the other GC riders know they won’t be following Pogačar when he decides it’s a day for winning so the likelihood is the Slovenian will go ahead and do his thing and everyone else will compete amongst themselves.

The best of the rest

Looking at the route, the sheer number of mountain or hill-top finishes means it’s unlikely we will see any of the GC challengers completely dominate in what I’ll call the Gall/Onley group.

If you look at Felix Gall, his characteristics suit long sustained uphill efforts, while Oscar Onley is more suited to the sharper steeper climbs. The Netcompany-Ineos leader is more explosive so that’s typically climbing days in Andorra, whilst Gall is much more steady in how he paces himself and that’s the last week down in the south. In between, the middle week, expect some echelons and fighting for position, which isn’t a Felix Gall strong point so the talk of him being the obvious runner-up isn’t a given.

What is for sure is in the GC group almost everyone bar Richard Carapaz has something to prove. Cian Uijtdebroeks has to salvage a disappointing season, Enric Mas needs a win and something better than an expected 8th place. Onley requires some confidence and Netcompany a bit of unity to be installed after a few fractious comments between teammates. Over at Lidl-Trek, they can probably count on Mattias Skjelmose to be in the top five but a stage win would be nice along with it.

And then there’s Primož Roglič. Let’s hope he doesn’t crash in the first week and he can settle into his favourite race. The stated tactic of not riding for GC is an interesting one but few will believe it until he loses 10 minutes because if he’s still there in the last week then with the experience he has the 32km time trial is in his favour. He’s not racing Pogačar but outside of him the other GC riders aren’t exactly specialists on the TT bike.

The fast men

The fast men aren’t numerous at this Vuelta, understandably so given the climbing involved. However, we will get to see how Visma-Lease a Bike manage the Wout Van Aert and Matthew Brennan situation.

Van Aert is on the rise after a few setbacks in the middle of the season and the young Brit lines up for his first Grand Tour.

Jordi Meeus is one place higher in the sprint rankings but with Christophe Laporte also in the Visma line-up the betting person would be right in thinking the odds are in favour of the Dutch squad.

And they have Sepp Kuss, who may or may not be GC Kuss. However, commencing Saturday on the shiny streets of Monaco we will have three weeks of action to find out if any of the pre-race speculation was accurate.

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"Is artificial intelligence the new doping?" asked former Movistar director of performance Mikel Zabala at this year’s Science & Cycling conference, held each year the week prior to the Tour de France Grand Départ. It’s where cycling’s most progressive academics, sport scientists and WorldTour staff present their work, featuring the latest research on training, nutrition and equipment.

But Zabala’s presentation stood out as the experienced Spaniard warns of parallels between the Armstrong era and the artificial era. Why? We’ll come back to Zabala’s psychosocial reasoning later. But Zabala did shine a spotlight on AI and why machine learning could be an anti-doping scientist’s worst nightmare…

Creating new drugs

March 2025 could prove a pivotal date in the world of anti-doping, as the United States Adopted Names (USAN) Council granted biotech company Insilico Medicine’s AI-designed drug to treat idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis (IPF) an official name: Rentosertib, formerly known as ISM001-055.

Rentosertib marked a significant milestone in drug development: its target and molecule were identified and designed using generative AI, taking an AI-created drug into human trials. For the cycling chemists amongst you, Insilico used its Pharma.AI platform to accelerate the discovery of Rentosertib. That followed PandaOmics, an AI-powered biology engine, identifying the enzyme TNIK as a promising target for idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis. Finally, the platform’s generative chemistry engine, Chemistry42, designed and optimised the compounds against it, ultimately leading to Rentosertib’s selection as a pre-clinical candidate.

It’s impressive stuff and, for cycling, the implications are stark. If AI can rapidly design novel medicines, could it eventually create performance-enhancing substances that anti-doping laboratories have not yet detected?

“We haven’t seen that yet,” an anti-doping source told us, who wished to remain anonymous, “but we’ve certainly seen existing drugs, like steroids, altered by AI for more specific performance benefits. It is a concern. And potentially dangerous.”

Cycling has already seen athletes caught using experimental drugs such as GW1516. GW1516 is known by various names, including cardarine and endurobol, and was designed as a dietary supplement. However, it was pulled at the experimental phase because it was found to cause cancer. Despite that, it made its way to the black market via underground labs, which is why WADA banned it.

Those toxicity concerns didn’t deter several cyclists from experimenting with the drug, including Russian rider Valery Kaykov, who was part of the nation's successful team pursuit at the 2012 European Track Championships, the same year he joined Pro Continental team RusVelo. A year later, he became the first athlete to officially test positive for GW1516 and was subsequently sacked by his team.

Ostarine is another drug that was never approved as a medicine but found its way into the sporting arena, with athletes tempted by its potential to support muscle mass. Italian rider Matteo Spreafico tested positive for enobosarm (ostarine) at the 2020 Giro d’Italia and received a three-year ban. His compatriot Linda Laporta returned an adverse analytical finding for the same substance at this year's UAE Tour Women and was provisionally suspended pending the outcome of her case, which is ongoing, and has not resulted in a confirmed anti-doping rule violation.

With AI now capable of designing novel drug candidates, the next generation of performance-enhancing substances could potentially emerge faster than anti-doping science can identify them. AI has the capacity to take ‘unknown science’ and make drug development much more efficient and, seen through an anti-doping lens, arguably harder to detect.

AI could also enable more personalised enhancement by analysing physiological and genetic data to identify interventions tailored to an individual athlete. This could shift doping from simply finding effective drugs to identifying the most effective intervention for each athlete, creating an increasingly sophisticated challenge for anti-doping authorities.

Mimicking for good and bad

“This extends to the idea of a digital twin,” says Professor Yannis Pitsiladis, director of the Centre for Exercise and Medicine at Hong Kong Baptist University. He’s also on WADA’s health medical research committee.

“A digital twin is gaining traction in the medical world,” he adds. “In essence, it’s a virtual model of an individual that uses real-world data to simulate health, disease and treatment responses. It might combine genetic information, blood tests, medical history, imaging, medications, activity, heart rate, sleep, nutrition and other wearable data. Doctors could use it to predict outcomes and personalise treatment.”

In cycling, a digital twin would be fed similar data, so power, heart rate, cadence, speed, sleep, training load, nutrition, environmental conditions and potentially physiological/genetic information to create a model that behaves like the individual rider. The key is that it’s continually updated with real-world data from the rider.

In cycling, a sophisticated digital twin could potentially answer questions such as: 'What happens if I increase training volume by 10%?' 'How will riding at 2,000 metres affect my performance?' and 'What nutrition strategy is likely to work best on a hilly parcours at 10°C?'

Rather than simply reporting what happened, the digital twin attempts to predict what will happen next.

The idea of digital twins has already hit the WorldTour. At the start of 2026, Ineos Grenadiers (now Netcompany Ineos) and Swansea University revealed they were developing digital twins to analyse riders’ performance and development, aiming to identify overlooked talent and predict which young cyclists could become future professionals. The legal benefits of a digital twin are clear. But the same technology could theoretically personalise doping – identifying substances or strategies with maximal benefit and minimal detectable impact.

“Of course, if you have enough data, you might be able to ask what the best combination of testosterone, erythropoietin (EPO) and cortisone might be, and at what dose, for what specific outcome,” says Pitsiladis. “But you’d need good data.”

Of which cycling has. In fact, cycling’s so obsessed with data that even metabolomics is being used to study elite cyclists, including at UAE Team Emirates-XRG when Professor Iñigo San Millán was heavily involved with the team. Metabolomics involves measuring hundreds or thousands of small molecules (metabolites) in blood or other biological samples to better understand a rider’s metabolism for more accurate training prescription. It’s a level or thousand up from measuring a rider’s blood sample for iron before they train at altitude.

“With the amount of data cycling has, of course it could happen,” adds Pitsiladis, “but it could also benefit anti-doping by giving the agencies a clearer picture of the athlete.”

Strengthening anti-doping

As could the work of Dr Michael Skinnider, assistant professor at the Lewis-Sigler Institute for Integrative Genomics at Princeton University, who’s working on a chemical AI platform that focuses on discovering new doping agents.

“We’re developing an AI model that can predict the chemical structures of future performance-enhancing drugs,” he says. “The second part of our work is working with the mass spectrometry data [mass spectrometry machines analyse an athlete’s sample] to more accurately detect anomalies.

Typically, there are thousands – sometimes tens of thousands – of signals that might be associated with one small molecule. If there is suspicion that a novel drug is in this sample, it’s currently like finding a needle in a haystack. Our research aims to refine this work.”

Skinnider says the work is ongoing, but the signs are positive. “The first stage of the project involved curating a large database of 1,600 drugs that were either on the prohibited list or that we felt might have potential to enhance performance. It predicted two substances that were later added to the WADA banned list, plus it flagged up a number of novel substances of interest.”

Skinnider sees his work as a decision-support tool and, if it ever fulfils its potential and is adopted by WADA, it’d complement the biological passport. “If you saw some shift in a rider’s blood values and there’s talk that it might be down to some kind of novel performance-enhancing drug or substance, that’s where our work would come in.”

Avoid a return to the past

That’s the scientific AI battle. But what about the psychosocial? Let’s return to the start and Zabala’s concerns that AI will send cycling back to the dark ages, namely Armstrong, Puerto…

“We must never forget the past,” he says. “From Armstrong to Operation Puerto, cycling in the 1990s and 2000s was horrendous. It was a time when doctors ruled.”

Zabala calls this period and the time before, ‘Cycling 1.0’. He says that cycling followed a hierarchy and training relied on random coaching wisdom rather than empirical evidence. The absence of structured scientific collaboration blurred medical, ethical and professional boundaries.

“Then ‘Cycling 2.0’ took over in around 2012,” he adds. “This involved multidisciplinary co-operation between coaches, scientists, physicians and nutritionists. Now, experts were mainly in charge, not backroom staff who were dopers of the past. Importantly, the rider went from a passive subject – the knowledge is held by the doping doctor – to an informed collaborator. This enhanced compliance, motivation and accountability.”

In short, Cycling 2.0 – deemed cleaner than ever – passed ownership to the rider. We’re now onto ‘Cycling 3.0’ where AI can magnify potential through predictive modelling but, Zabala says, it must not replace human judgment. Over-reliance on AI without critical thinking can lead to poor decision-making and a loss of ownership.

“A rider must maintain their autonomy,” he says. “In the doping days, coercion and fear of exclusion was very real. With unregulated AI, we have similar fears. Biometric over-monitoring and opaque decisions could leave a rider vulnerable. Without ethical governance, AI could reverse 2.0’s gains.”

To that end, Zabala proposes that riders and coaches must become AI literate. “That means they capitalise on its benefits and not be captured by it. As we enter this third evolutionary stage, cycling stands at an unprecedented crossroads between human wisdom and machine intelligence. Artificial intelligence will not replace the coach, the scientist or the athlete, but it will augment them.

“The success of Cycling 3.0 will depend not on how quickly we adopt new algorithms, but on how wisely we integrate them into a culture of shared knowledge, respect, transparency and responsibility,” he says. “If the spirit of Cycling 2.0 remains our compass, then AI can become the next ally in a journey that should continue to be profoundly human. The challenge is not merely to predict performance but to protect meaning.”

Ultimately, like every sector of life, AI has the potential to transform cycling for better or worse. It may uncover talent, personalise training and strengthen anti-doping, yet potentially accelerate novel drugs and sophisticated enhancement. The lesson from Cycling 2.0 is clear: technology works best when athletes remain informed participants. Cycling 3.0 must embrace AI without surrendering human judgement, transparency or the hard-won lessons of its past.

One of cycling's most legendary sports directors, Giancarlo Ferretti died last week aged 85. He was well known for his strict approach to racing, his very direct way of talking and his long-standing insistence that his charges focus on targets they could actually achieve rather than risk missing out too often.

But that realism and insistence on team discipline didn't just earn Ferretti, born near Rome in 1941, the nickname of Ferròn, the Iron Sergeant; by most accounts, those characteristics were just part of a whole wealth of resources and personal talents that helped Ferretti's riders find their way to spectacular levels of success.

According to La Gazzetta dello Sport, from his position hunched behind the steering wheel of team cars for squads as famous as Bianchi, Ariostea, MG Maglificio and Fassa Bortolo, over three decades Ferretti oversaw his riders amass around 900 wins in total, from Grand Tours like the Giro d'Italia in 1976 – one of Ferretti's personal favourites – to multiple Monuments and week-long stage races.

Ferretti had a seemingly unlimited knack of getting the best out of his star racers, and he had plenty in his charge at one point or another, from Tour de France and Giro d'Italia winner Felice Gimondi to time trialling great Fabian Cancellara, and from Classics champion Michele Bartoli to sprinting star Alessandro Petacchi.

Such an elevated stable of top names, together with his ability to push the riders to get the best out of themselves, and his deep understanding of the demands pro cycling made on racers, all combined to make Ferròn one of the leading managerial figures in the peloton for decades.

"He was without a doubt the director who had the most influence on me and who inspired me the most," one of his standout racers, Juan Antonio Flecha, tells Cyclingnews. Flecha was a Tour de France stage winner and multiple Paris-Roubaix podium finisher who raced for Ferretti in 2004 and 2005 at Fassa Bortolo.

"It helped that he had a colossal amount of experience, for one thing. I remember him telling us about being in the Bianchi team car in the 1975 Tour de France when [Eddy] Merckx had that bad crash and [Bernard] Thévenet won overall.

"But apart from being around so much and for so long, he also was very wise, and he always had his feet on the ground, too."

Retired since the winter of 2013 and now a cycling TV analyst and brand ambassador for Rapha, Flecha gives one example of that down-to-earth approach when he says: "I always used to be a very enthusiastic type of rider, but Ferretti would tell me, 'that's great, but remember you've got to think about what kind of a rider you want to be when all that enthusiasm has gone as well'.

"And I remember one edition of Paris-Nice, too, I'd got away with [Jan] Kirsipuu and my teammate Fabian Cancellara, Cancellara won the stage, and I was thinking I could do something in the overall. But Ferretti said, politely enough: 'Flecha, I don't want to disappoint you but we've got to go up Mont Faron tomorrow and you're not going to make it, you're not a GC guy.' And he was right."

What was striking, too, was the way Ferretti would not let his own driving ambition to win become too daunting for his riders. Rather, he opted at times to show them what opportunities for greatness were available, Flecha says, and try to inspire them to take them.

"When it came to Paris-Roubaix, he'd tell us that it was hard enough for him to handle in the team car to know that there was no way he should be telling us what to do in the race itself," Flecha, a podium finisher at Roubaix in 2005, 2007 and 2010, recalls.

"It was like he was telling us that whatever we did that day in a race as important as Roubaix, it was going to be something really significant. Which was brilliant, because it made you feel like what you did in Roubaix really mattered, and it made you want to live up to that."

A master strategist

Yet when Ferretti did get involved in race strategy, Flecha recalled, he'd produce tactics that invariably proved to be the right ones, and which often were anything but traditional. The Het Volk winner cites one Giro di Lazio, where there were several Fassa riders ahead in a small group and Ferretti told them to attack each other and counter-attack, "purely to confuse the opposition. It seemed like a crazy tactic but we won."

Or there were more complex situations where in the 2005 Gent-Wevelgem, Flecha bridged across to Nico Mattan in the closing kilometres but then Ferretti then told him "to take one turn and then attack him straightaway" over the radio.

"I couldn't believe what he was saying, because I was having a really hard time just getting off the front. If he hadn't told me to attack, I'd have stayed with Mattan right the way through to the end.

"Instead, I did exactly what he said, attacked, and found myself off the front and in a position to win. Ferretti had that kind of vision and racecraft. He knew what I had to do."

If Ferretti's tactics brought his riders to the place where they could win, time and again and no matter the era, one old-worldly element he also had, Flecha recounts, was his insistence on doing things by the book.

After Flecha agreed to join Fassa Bortolo from Banesto, Ferretti told Flecha he'd have to get permission from Banesto's then director, Jose Miguel Echavarri, to sign with him first.

And to go back to that edition of Gent-Wevelgem again, when Flecha was finally beaten by Mattan after the Belgian allegedly used race vehicles to draft back up to the Spaniard and then outsprinted him, an outraged Ferretti wrote letters of protest about Mattan's 'tactics' to the highest levels of the UCI.

They had no effect, but Ferretti's riders greatly appreciated the depth of loyalty that showed he had for them, all the same.

Humility and humanity

Yet at the centre of it all, there was a great deal of humility in Ferretti – part of it born from knowing how hard it could be to succeed as a pro, and how fragile that success could be.

A moderately promising amateur, Ferretti's biggest breakthrough triumph was set to be an overall victory in the Tour de l'Avenir. But just when he was leading, he had a bad fall on the descent of the Col d'Izoard, and an untimely puncture that left him out for the count. Then during his eight years as a pro alongside Gimondi – with whom he was great friends as well as teammates – Ferretti was witness to plenty of wins by his teammates, but he never took a single triumph. himself

"It was all about the team," he told Gazzetta. The importance of that collective spirit was something he would apply to his own squads when directing, starting with Bianchi in 1971, all the way through to the end of his career.

"He would tell me," Flecha recalls, "that if ever I was a sports director to make sure that if I signed riders that they weren't just winners; that they also knew how to help others. And that came directly from him not being a great rider, as he was the first to recognise. He used that humble start for his team's benefit., both as a racer and as a director."

If Ferretti's reputation for iron discipline was the stuff of urban legend in cycling for the general public, behind closed doors his ability to see the humans beyond the results sheets was considerable, former riders say. That natural empathy manifested in a racing incident when Ferretti was a pro, involving himself and Tom Simpson in the 1967 Tour, shortly before the doomed Briton died on the Mont Ventoux, and which Ferretti said would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Riding through blazing heat and with all the riders desperately thirsty, Ferretti grabbed a flask offered by a roadside spectator, but then was on the point of throwing it away because the liquid inside smelled alcoholic. However, before he could do so, Simpson took it off him and drank it down, only to collapse three kilometres from the summit and die. An autopsy later attributed the Briton's death to a fatal combination of amphetamines, heat exhaustion and alcohol. Ferretti often wondered, he once told Gazzetta, what would have happened if the rules of the time forbidding team cars from giving water to their riders had not been in place – and if Simpson, suffering from terrible thirst like the rest of the peloton, would not have downed the alcohol he'd taken from Ferretti.

Although Ferretti had raced or directed alongside many top names, "he wasn't a name dropper," Flecha recalls. "He once saw me reading a magazine article about Roger De Vlaeminck and jokingly told me faceva schifo [he sucked], before telling me about how De Vlaeminck was simply unstoppable as a rider, one of the fastest he'd ever seen."

Or as Gazzetta reported, from time to time Ferretti and Merckx, when still a pro, would open a bottle of whisky after a race and Merckx "would ask me everything imaginable about [arch-rival] Gimondi and I'd ask him everything imaginable about Merckx. In fact, neither of us would say a single true word the entire evening."

"He had a good sense of humour, too," Flecha adds. "I remember one rider laughing in an after-dinner discussion too, because there was some piece of historical data that he'd got right and Ferretti had made a mistake. And Ferretti said to him, jokingly, 'OK, you're laughing now but I'll be having the last laugh, at the end of the year' – when the rider's contract would be up."

A lowkey exit from cycling

As chance would have it, though, the end of Ferretti's own career as a sports director came about not because cycling was becoming more modern and he could not adapt, but by pure bad luck. In 2006, just as the WorldTour was starting, Ferretti's announcement of a new major sponsor for his squad fell flat on its face when it emerged he had been duped by a conman claiming to represent Sony Ericsson. The result was his new team folded before it began, and Ferretti's career was suddenly over.

"I remember I was with Alex Carera, my agent, when Ferròn rang up and told him the deal was off, that it had been a con, and he had riders like Stuart O'Grady ready to sign," Flecha – by then off to Rabobank, with Ferretti's blessing – recalls.

"Ferretti said, 'Alex, help me, please'. He was absolutely destroyed by the situation that had come up, he felt so responsible, above all for the riders."

Ending his career in such a lowkey way was never going to be the way that Ferretti wanted to bow out, but after so many years when it felt like professional cycling was inconceivable without Ferretti's balding, avuncular figure behind one team car driving wheel or another, that was how it happened.

Ferretti remained involved in the sport through Giro d'Italia organisers RCS for a few further years and other minor sponsors, but 2005 was his last full year. Not that in one sense it mattered, given his real contribution to cycling was already there and too well-established to disappear overnight.

"He created what you might call a school of thought or philosophy, not just amongst riders, but staff, trainers and directors," Flecha says. "I still consider myself to be a 'Ferretti rider'. No other director could have done that.

"He'd even reject certain sponsors if they didn't contribute to what he felt was the right kind of image for the team in terms of their equipment and so on, even if it meant more money. Because the unity of the team and its identity were, to him, what really mattered.

"He created that kind of legacy. And that's still there. In that sense he's still part of the sport."

Giancarlo Ferretti - bike rider and sports director: born 9 August 1941; died 9 August 2026

In the early evening of the 22nd of August, I will hopefully be riding down the start ramp in Monaco for the opening stage of the 81st Vuelta a España. What lies in front of me are 21 days of racing, and a parcours that will take the peloton through four countries; notably one of those being my European home in Andorra.

But what culminates in my first Grand Tour is weeks of preparation before the depart, most of which goes unnoticed by the wider cycling community and is often done solo.

In today's column, I will take you behind the scenes of the last six weeks of my life as a pro cyclist, including the solo rides, training camps with my teammates, the highs, and of course, the lows. I hope you enjoy reading.

This build-up started immediately after the Tour Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes, where discussions with my team led us to make the decision that La Vuelta would be the focal point for the rest of 2026. This would include a three-week altitude training block within a six-week period of no racing. But before I went off to altitude, I enjoyed the longest period at home that I have had all year. During these three weeks, my parents, aunty and uncle, and my girlfriend came to Andorra, and while it was incredibly special to spend that time with them off the bike, I struggled significantly on the bike.

I think the period of racing between the middle of March at Milano-Torino all the way up to the TARA in mid June finally caught up with me. I was low on energy, unable to complete any serious efforts and in consultation with my coach decided to pull back and rest in order to completely recover before the altitude camp in Livigno.

Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. This period allowed me to spend precious time with my family as well as fully comprehend what I had achieved in the previous races. Next, after two weeks of relatively limited riding, I was on my way to my first altitude camp of the year.

Highs and lows at altitude

Altitude camp is a funny thing. On one hand, at altitude your body adapts to the conditions and produces more red blood cells, which in turn should make you faster on the bike afterwards. On the other, you can feel pretty terrible on the bike while up high and struggle even coming close to the power you can produce at sea level in training.

This is why the adaptation phase in the first days at altitude is so important, so I was trundling around the mountains in Livigno, solo, trying to keep my watts at a minimum.

Thankfully, I think I nailed these few days, because I was able to get in some seriously good sessions during the first 10 days. This was great for the mental headspace after the rough few weeks of training I'd had in Andorra, but in the final few days of camp I struggled again.

I received news from back in Australia that my grandfather was extremely unwell. After hearing this, I mentally struggled to push myself to the limit, and completing efforts became virtually impossible.

I know these all sound like minor setbacks. A few bad days on the bike don’t ruin all the hard work done this year already, but as I was sitting in an isolated hotel at 2,200 metres above sea level, I started to second-guess everything.

Knowing how much of a challenge La Vuelta will be for me, I was stressed about missing key sessions, thinking this was going to set my fitness back and make the race even harder than it was already going to be.

Ever since the passing of my sister, I have found these hard mental days happen more regularly than before, and I find it hard to bring myself ‘out of the hole’ quickly.

The team’s support with this is amazing, and they completely understand how I am feeling and how it affects me. It is also something that I would like to use as a strength in the future; riding for my sister to make her proud, but I’ve only been able to channel this feeling once on that fateful day in France.

These emotions don’t last forever, though, and soon camp was done; I was back home and already thinking about my next race, the Vuelta a Burgos.

A new 20-minute PB and a DNS the next day

I’ve found a lot of joy racing in Spain this year. It began with the Ruta del Sol in Andalucía during February, Catalunya in March, followed by Itzulia Basque Country the following week. Now I was back in the Iberian Peninsula for La Vuelta a Burgos, unsure where my legs were and what they were capable of achieving.

Altitude had gone relatively well; I felt fit and healthy, and the team had put no pressure on me for a result. All they - and I - wanted was a good test before La Vuelta to see where my form was and to get back into the racing rhythm.

I could give you a day-by-day description of how the race went, what happened, who won, and so on, but when I started this column I wanted to convey my personal experiences within my life as a professional, not simply a race recap.

So, the first two days I was feeling much better than expected. The terrain wasn’t perfect for my characteristics, but I did what I could for the team, and I had a smile on my face.

Stage 3 was my first real test. A 20-minute climb up to the finish in Balneario de Corconte meant it was showtime. What I wasn’t expecting was how insanely high the climbing level was. I guess looking back it now makes sense: everyone was on altitude camps preparing for La Vuelta, so of course everyone was producing high watts.

I equalled my best-ever 20-minute power on this climb, doing 6.6w/kg, and Felix Gall (Decathlon CMA CGM) still put nearly thirty seconds into me. Just wow. But I was happy; you can’t really do much more than a PB in a race. The team was happy with me and my physical level, and collectively we had a good day with Giulio Pellizzari finishing in third.

The following day was a sprint, but I was really looking forward to the final day and the final climb up the Lagunas de Neila. My body would have other plans for me though. I woke up at midnight with a killer sore throat, and at six in the morning my head was pounding too.

After I woke up, I immediately consulted the team doctor, and after discussing with the directeur sportif and coach, we decided it was best not to start.

That final day test that I was looking forward to would instead be spent driving six hours in the car back to Andorra, but this is part of professional cycling. Riders fall ill all the time, and I am grateful to the team for taking the cautious decision to stop and rest, ultimately thinking of La Vuelta and making sure I will be at 100% fitness on August 22nd.

Looking ahead

So I sit here writing the second half of this piece after Burgos; I’m still a bit sick, but I’m recovering well. The sickness didn’t get worse, which is great, and I hope to get 7-10 days of solid training in before I travel to Monaco.

I'm also getting slightly nervous about what lies ahead. The most days of racing I have done previously is eight, and now I have to make the small jump up to 21. As my teammate Davide Donati said to me on the bus before stage two in Burgos, “Only twenty days to go!”

I politely told him I don’t want to think about that, as I think this ‘lap of Spain’ will be one of the hardest things I have ever done. But I’m also excited. It’s a new challenge, completely unknown territory, and I guess your first Grand Tour is always going to be hard.

I have some exciting things planned during the race, so stay tuned. And for those who will be at the race watching, come and say hi; I’d love to hear from you.

See you soon,

Luke

Australian pro Brodie Chapman rides for UAE Team L'IMAD and had built up to race the Tour de France Femmes for a second time. Unfortunately it was an edition that ended early for her, with a DNS on stage 2 as illness intervened. It hadn't been the easiest of runs to make it there in the first place either, as she went down hard in the Tour of Flanders in April, fracturing her pelvis and facing a tough recovery to get back for the Tour, which Chapman detailed in her pre-race column.

In her second of three columns, Chapman joins us while recuperating, rather than racing, to cast light on the pivotal stages. She takes us inside some of the plans and mindsets behind the unfolding action and also delivers some home truths about the simmering speculation on the dynamics within her own team.

I was sitting on my couch watching one of the greatest-ever cycling performances unfold before my eyes. Between pangs of envy for those riders experiencing the familiar slopes of Mont Ventoux first-hand, I was also brimming with joy and anticipation for what would follow. Friend and fan favourite Kasia Niewiadoma-Phinney left no room for doubt as she flawlessly executed her ascent toward the stage win and yellow jersey. Teammate and good friend Elisa Longo-Borghini managed her own race to perfection, closing in to take third on the stage in the last few hundred meters thanks to measured teamwork with Paula Blasi.

Besides the time trial, an individual event that shook up the GC, Mont Ventoux was undoubtedly a stage that was always going to be an important battle. It was the stage that lingered amongst the minds of the riders, those trying to win it, and those trying to survive it. I had discussed this stage in length with riders on my team, with people outside the peloton and in depth with Kasia.

As mentioned in my previous column, entirely on the initiative of Kasia, a handful of us made a trip to Ventoux over a few days to learn the climb and understand its hefty list of demands. We did two ascents on the first day, and on the second day we did another ascent (much to my surprise). Kasia was feeling out the climb in real time. The heat was one thing, the steep corners another and the windy exposed sections something that could be volatile. What we couldn’t know was how the riders themselves would approach the climb. We had to speculate.

Personally, I had felt that based on my experience on these climbs, the peloton would approach the climb with an absolutely all-out furious pace, leaving only a handful of favourites isolated from the first left-hand corner onwards. A few teams were left with a slight numerical advantage but, with such a trying gradient ahead, it would come down to who applied their strengths in the right moment, who really had the legs and heart to get to the top first. Despite what appeared to be a gamble between Demi Vollering and Marlen Reusser, on a climb this long, I believe if you could win this race, you would.

Demi and Marlen are two of the best in the world. Cycling is a game, a tactical game that takes superhuman power to execute the right moves and a mixture of planning and instinct to know when to move. Kasia was simply better that day. Her heart was deeply embedded in this climb and she increased her lead with each stroke of the pedal; no amount of hesitation behind allows a gap this big to form accidentally. Kasia was in a flow state, she knew exactly where to go and when.

Behind the yellow jersey and previous winner Demi, another race was quietly unfolding. My teammates, two-time Giro d'Italia winner Elisa Longo Borghini and Vuelta Feminina winner Paula Blasi, were managing their own race. They didn’t even try to respond to Demi's first attack because they had a plan. The plan – conjured up by the performance team at UAE Team L'IMAD – had both riders following a pacing strategy. Strong and steady, Paula and Elisa didn't flinch when the attacks kicked off. Instead, they continued to ride just shy of their limit for 11km.

They didn't waste any energy on the lower slopes trying to respond. Their response would be collective and calculated. As the trees faded into the background, Paula and Elisa slowly reeled in the pursuers. According to Elisa, Paula's final pull as they approached the closing kilometres was paramount in launching Elisa into action to narrowly grasp third on the stage. She used that big acceleration at the perfect moment. Paula Blasi, in her maiden Tour de France Femmes, finished in fifth on the stage. Polish national champion Dominika Wlodarczyk rode into a commendable eighth, keeping the team high up in the GC and affirming that Polish cycling is in a very good place.

I hope this puts an end to the speculation around teamwork on UAE Team L'IMAD. Journalists also forget that riders eat together for every meal, for two weeks. We sit around the dinner table after the meal is done, laughing, discussing, and speculating. We sleep within centimetres of each other in pokey hotel rooms, share long transfers and hours at training camps together. To think there is room for scathing tension is ignorant.

I also want to mention the teams behind the wins, the ones who get the riders to this point. I sometimes squirm when I hear commentators question the absence of a particular rider, that they expected more from them …. They don't see the work it entails and the energy these riders spend in order to spare their leaders. You come to a race with clear roles, even if on a good day you could gamble in a breakaway or win from a small group. If we all just raced to our hearts' desire you wouldn’t see successful teamwork, where each ion of energy is purposeful and precious.

From kilometre one the domestiques are taking wind, going back to the very back of the peloton, dropping into the convoy, riding back through the fast, hectic peloton carrying a bag full of bidons and ice, with bidons in their jersey and carrying up to six kilograms or more.

hey position the team through the towns and the technical sections, to keep them safe and stay away from the back of the peloton where crashes are more likely to happen. They maintain a relentless pace heading into climbs like Ventoux, and then still have to ride up it themselves, very often after doing a maximal effort. If you have worked all day, the team also encourages you to take it easy after your job is done, in order to preserve energy to do it all again the next day.

As the race situation changes throughout the stages, those roles can definitely change too. While I wrote this, I was watching Canyon-SRAM's Zoe Bäckstedt take Kasia first wheel into a cat. 4 climb ahead of a finish line that, on another day, also suited her characteristics. Silvia Pérsico has taken on the tasks of two riders in my absence, along with Mavi Garcia, who herself won a stage last year. It pains me that I feel the need to explain this, but unfortunately sometimes I still get questioned over whether women's cycling has domestiques. I guess those people don't really watch women’s cycling.

The other thing to mention is that working for the team also doesn’t always mean taking wind and collecting bidons. Working for the team can also mean being a part of the overall strategy, using a rider's specific strengths to play the game, make the race hard or go deep into a final alongside the leaders.

The next day of racing will see the GC battle continue, with a strong bid for bonus seconds is my guess. For every single rider getting to Nice in one piece will be an achievement in itself. Some will have expected more than they got and others will leave satisfied or surprised. As athletes, we do not dwell long on the disappointments or the setbacks because otherwise it would consume us and take us out of the present – a present that is always demanding more work, better rest and adjusted goal setting.

In the town of Bedoin, there’s a buzz in the air. Lots of holidaymakers have flocked to the area to sample the best of Provence, be it the local Beaumes-de-Venise Muscat wine, the Festival in Avignon, or hiking in the nearby mountains.

Of course, the main draw here is the cycling, with the 1,910m-high Mont Ventoux dominating the patchwork of mountains, gorges, and towns such as Carpentras, Malaucène, and Sault.

This corner of the Vaucluse departement has a long history of riders making the pilgrimage up The Giant of Provence – be it British riders honouring the memory of Tom Simpson, who passed away on this mountain in 1967, or others wanting to compare themselves to the King and Queen of the Mountains holders: 53 minutes 47 seconds for Tadej Pogacar and 1 hour 10 minutes for Illi Gardner. But why go up it just once? With three different routes up to its telecommunications tower, you could try them all in one day and earn the literally crazy accolade of joining the Club des Cinglés. History was made when 30-year-old Belgian duathlete Delphine Thirifays completed the Cingles challenge on five consecutive days, setting a record of 15 ascents across that timeframe.

On Friday, August 7, the professional women’s peloton will make their own history when Stage 7 of the Tour de France Femmes avec Zwift passes up this climb for the first time since the race's revival. This Queen stage will be decisive during the nine-day race. Whilst it may not necessarily determine the winner, the stage could prove the undoing of some of the race's GC contenders – its relentless 7.5% gradient over 21.5km through barren limestone terrain full of foreboding might just ruin riders not at their best.

Historic Heroes

This is a road that definitely has to be respected as it can strike some cruel blows. Tom Simpson, one of only two competitors to pass away in the history of the Tour de France, met his maker just 1km from the summit in 1967. Three years later, when Eddy Merckx won at the summit of the moonscape, he needed to receive oxygen, such was the effort he had put in. Just a couple of weeks ago, a Polish amateur rider on holiday in the area was airlifted to Avignon hospital after suffering a heart attack while riding up. Luckily, he was rescued by an off-duty paramedic who raised the alarm and provided first aid.

Mont Ventoux has been included in the men’s Tour de France 18 times, with nine of those occasions being the finish line of a road race, and two occasions the end of a time trial. It first appeared in La Grande Boucle in 1951 when Lucien Lazarides was the first rider to crest the mountain during the stage from Montpellier to Avignon, after the peloton approached from Malaucène. Although Lazarides had held a good lead, he was eventually caught and finished sixth behind the winner, compatriot Louison Bobet, with Gino Bartali and Raphael Geminiani coming home fourth and fifth respectively. Fausto Coppi also took part in the race, but was not on form and was grieving over the death of his brother.

Throughout its 75-year history, Mont Ventoux has been the stage for some eventful moments in bike racing. When Mont Ventoux was the stage of the amateur ride known as L’Etape du Tour in 2000, half of the riders failed to finish the race as the organisers were forced to close the upper section of the road when torrential rain fell. The temperature plummeted from over 30℃ at the foot of the climb to barely above zero at the summit.

Who can also forget the viral moment in the 2016 Tour de France when pictures were broadcast around the world of the yellow jersey wearer, Chris Froome, running up the climb with no bike after colliding with a motorcycle on an especially crowded portion of the slope following the closure of the road a few miles short of the summit!

A Leaf out of Nicole’s Book

Tour de France Femmes avec Zwift director Marion Rousse predicts a gutsy show from Pauline Ferrand-Prevot (Visma-Lease a Bike) in a bid to win the Queen stage this year. However, a fired-up Demi Vollering (FDJ-United SUEZ) will be keen to spar in this return match after being dropped by the reigning champion on the Col de la Madeleine last year. Vollering has been seen training on the Giant of Provence in the last couple of months. Also seen training on the roads surrounding the mythical mountain recently have been fellow GC contenders Kim Le Court Pienaar (AG Insurance Soudal) and Kasia Niewiadoma Phinney (Canyon//SRAM), both of whom stopped at the local cycling café Pista Cycling, whose co-owner, Canadian cycling enthusiast Vicky Carbonneau, will be especially cheering on her VIP customers.

Whoever is looking to win this stage may want to take a leaf out of Nicole Cooke’s book. It was practically 20 years ago, when the World and Olympic Champion used Mont Ventoux as the stage to make her move during a previous incarnation of the women’s Tour de France. On June 30, 2006, stage 4 from Valreas to L’Isle sur la Sorgue of the La Grande Boucle Feminine, the British rider attacked at the foot of the climb, just outside Malaucène and the then 23-year-old rode with true grit. Determined to put in an impressive ride, despite the blistering heat, she dropped the field and soloed to victory with a 4-minute margin over the second-placed rider Maryline Salvetat.

Cooke amassed enough time to win the overall GC and became the first British rider to go over Mont Ventoux in the yellow jersey.

And Historic Heroines

More recently, Marta Cavalli won the only women’s edition of the Mont Ventoux Dénivelé Challenge in 2022. This was a 100km race from Vaison-la-Romaine, which included 2,800m of climbing and culminated in the 24km climb to the summit of Ventoux from Sault.

After catching the two-woman breakaway featuring Rachel Neylan and Neve Bradbury, the Italian and her then FDJ teammates, alongside other contenders, worked together to set a relentless pace over the 5% gradients. At Chalet Reynard, the group was fractured when Morgane Coston attacked, only to be caught by Cavalli, who counterattacked 2.5 km from the summit to cross the finish line over 40 seconds ahead of eventual podium finishers Clara Koppenburg and Evita Muzic.

Also within this era, the organisers of the 2016 Tour de L’Ardeche ran the route further South of where the race normally goes, and the riders were treated to a stage from L’Isle sur La Sorgue to Mont Ventoux via Bedoin. That stage was won by Anna Kiesenhofer, a future Olympic Champion, ahead of Flavia Oliveira, and French veteran Edwige Pittel. Despite her victory, it wasn’t quite enough to get the overall victory of the one-week stage race, and it was the Brazilian, Oliveira, who came out on top on GC.

So although August 7 will be the first time that Mont Ventoux is featured in the newly incarnated Tour de France Femmes avec Zwift, this iconic climb between the Alpes and the mouth of the River Rhone has been the setting for other battles in women’s cycling in the past.

Let’s not forget that Mont Ventoux featured in the virtual version of the Tour de France Femmes, organised by Zwift during lockdown, and it was Ashleigh Moolman Pasio (AG-Insurance Soudal) who took the top step just ahead of Sarah Gigante, who has since become her teammate.

La Grande Boucle Féminine had stages that regularly visited this corner of France during its editions in the mid-1990s, with the likes of Fabiana Luperini being one of the strongest climbers of the day, taking victories on those slopes.

While Mont Ventoux is the headline-grabbing climb in this year’s Tour de France Femmes route, it is worth keeping an eye on other climbs that could make or break a rider’s designs on the overall standings or polka dot glory.

Èze and the rest

The final stage in Nice will involve four ascents of the Col d'Èze, a regular feature in the men’s Paris-Nice race, notably climbed via the classic observatory route. Col d'Èze was where Lizzie Deignan launched her attack during La Course in 2020 and sprinted to victory just ahead of Marianne Vos (Visma-Lease a Bike) and Demi Vollering.

However, on Sunday, August 9, this side of the climb will be crested three times so the riders may wish to attack a little later – notably on the fourth and final ascent to Èze, which will be a more brutal challenge. This side of Èze, known as Les Quatre Chemins with an average 7.6% gradient but with ramps of around 16%, will be a real sting in the tail for the riders. It will be new for the women’s peloton, and is still relatively new for the men’s bunch.

Notably, Col de Quatre Chemins was included in the final stage of the 2024 men’s Tour de France and Tadej Pogačar (UAE Team Emirates-XRG) used it as the launch pad for his resounding victory over Jonas Vingegaard (Visma-Lease a Bike). It was also included in the edition of Paris-Nice earlier that year when Remco Evenepoel (Red Bull-Bora-Hansgrohe) took victory.

Although this year’s Tour de France Femmes has a record 1,175km and 18,795m of climbing, it is light on big headline climbs and is packed with third and fourth category kickers.

In the earlier part of the race, when the peloton rolls through Switzerland, the route will pass over climbs which have featured in Swiss stage races over the years. For instance, the Côte de la Villars le Comte, near Fribourg and the Côte Saint Francois into Lausanne have featured in the Tour de Romandie, notably in the inaugural edition in 2022 where Lianne Lippert (Movistar) and Evita Muzic were particularly active.

After Geneva, in the Jura mountains will be the 11km Col de la Faucille. This 6.3% climb has been a regular feature in the men's Tour de France since 1951, but has not been included in a Grand Tour recently. The last time the Tour raced there was in 2004. So this could be a chance for the women’s peloton to put it back on the map.

Whatever happens in the race, the women’s peloton of the Tour de France avec Zwift will continue to make history as their petites reines wend their way around La Grande Boucle.

Australian pro Brodie Chapman rides for UAE Team L'IMAD and is currently building up for the Tour de France Femmes, her second appearance in the race after making her debut in 2025. To get there this year, Chapman has not had the easiest of runs: she went down hard in the Tour of Flanders in April, fracturing her pelvis and ending her spring prematurely, facing a tough recovery to get back for the Tour.

In the first of three columns she will be penning before, during and after the Tour de France Femmes, Chapman writes about that injury, coming back from it, and her hopes for the Tour.

The moment you hit the ground as a result of a big crash feels like it occurs in both a split second and light years. After the preliminary self-assessment (I am conscious, my toes move, people are here to help), the very next, desperate thought is often 'What's my next race and can I be there?'

Despite the pain, the adrenaline invites an immediate resolve – making it back for that next big race that you are targeting has to be achievable. All the while you are lying contorted, bleeding, shivering on an unremarkable footpath in Flemish Belgium.

In my head, the recovery process starts the moment you are being strapped into a stretcher. My stream of thoughts is like OK, hospital, painkillers, discomfort, confusion, questions, no answers, conflicting answers, transport, how do I get home, panic, delusional optimism, despair, goal setting… Indeed, the steady drip of morphine helps with the calm, but it's commonplace for athletes to stubbornly plan towards goals and dreams even in a state of incapacitation, and I am certainly no exception.

It was concluded I had sustained a pelvic fracture in my left iliac crest, and also fractured the bridge of my nose after crashing at the Tour of Flanders in April. These diagnoses were frustratingly overlooked for the first few days, and despite being reassured (gaslit?) that pain after crashing was to be expected, and I needed not overthink (a tale as old as time), my deep pain and immobility were clear enough signs that this was not simply a bruise.

Once I was repatriated from Belgium (via airport wheelchair) into Spain (airport buggy), then Andorra (just crutches), I more or less became a redundant human, let alone an athlete. At the same time, my partner made sure to keep me comfortable and take on all the household tasks.

The recovery process

Within 24 hours of crashing, my name had been slashed from the Giro d'Italia team, and it was then I launched into quiet Tour de France Femmes planning, but kept it to myself until I had at least tentatively lifted a leg over my bike fixed to the stationary trainer. I am not one to push through pain unnecessarily, nor did I feel I needed to play catch-up, but I knew getting moving with a non-weight-bearing exercise would help as long as I didn't hinder my recovery.

Someone once told me to treat my recovery from an injury with the same respect, planning and consistent discipline as I treat my training. Proper training can wait; the goal now is to allow my bone to heal. Days entailed long but disrupted sleep, breakfast, ergo, MyWhoosh for 30 minutes, lunch, watch cycling, watch some Netflix junk, family calls, ergo again for an hour, drive to my physios in Andorra la Vella, magnets and Tecar machines, needles and massage, drive back.

By the end of April, I could shakily stand, but I couldn't yet walk. From the couch I watched my team racing in the Ardennes, winning at La Vuelta Femenina, attacking the Giro d'Italia. My team inspires me, and I was brewing some fervent motivation while I watched my little MyWhoosh avatar, complete with a team jersey, pedal steadily through virtual worlds.

And so it goes; the weeks merge into a blur, absent of the threat of a fading of identity or loss of purpose like I once felt in my early days of cycling through injury. My UAE team doctors and physios were in daily contact with me; I felt confident and reassured that I could return to play soon enough.

The start of a comeback

The Tour de Suisse was always on my calendar, and I was eager to arrive at the race fit and ready. After doing a local gravel race in Spain the week before, my confidence was stifled a bit as I experienced debilitating lower back pain and faded into the minor placings quite early on, but I kept to my rehab, changed my bike setup to adapt to my lopsided hips, and set off to Switzerland.

Switzerland is also where the Grand Départ for the Tour de France Femmes will be, and although I was a few rungs down on the reserve list, I held it in my mind's eye that I still had a chance to make the team for the big race in France.

I was ecstatic to be back with my teammates, and although Suisse wasn't my best performance, I could still contribute strongly to the team goals. I executed an OK time trial despite having been involved in a crash the day before. I hit the ground hard on the same hip I had broken and had a mild tantrum in the moment. Thankfully, my teammate Maëva Squiban was there, unscathed, to calm me down and guide me back to the front of the race where I was immediately put to work controlling a breakaway for 100km or so.

Again, the crash was a fleeting moment but whole dialogues unfolded in my mind, about the future, about injury, and if the Tour de France Femmes was still part of my trajectory.

As the cliché goes, recovery isn't linear, even though at some point amongst the steady rise back to form and all the rehab admin, you are just ready for it to be 'over' and for your body and form to be back to normal. Although I was very, very fit, thanks to the longest endurance block I have been allowed in years, I was still struggling a bit with fast descending, my nervous system unconsciously fearful of hitting the ground again. This bruises the ego and incites rumination about your abilities. Can I still be the athlete I was? Can I possibly be better?

Making it to the Tour

Then I received a phone call from my DS. I was selected to be part of the 2026 Tour de France Femmes team. I felt like I had to salute, stand for duty in my living room and dial up my preparation with immediate effect. The very next week, I was off on a recon weekender with two other Women's WorldTour riders, Tota Magalhães from Movistar and Kasia Niewiadoma-Phinney from Canyon-SRAM and their partners. We set off to tackle the mythical Mont Ventoux, home to the Queen stage of this year's Tour de France Femmes and a monstrous undertaking for anyone on a bike.

Although the three of us have very different roles and capabilities, it was still fun to discuss over coffee how we saw the race playing out, and it was quite cool to see the finesse and speed 2024 winner Kasia delivered as she ascended Mont Ventoux. It will certainly be a showdown for the ages.

The Tour de France is without doubt the most hotly contested stage race in our calendar. Every single rider on the start line has done the most to show up in their season-best form; we have all worked hard high at various summer ski resorts through July to ensure no stone is left unturned.

My team, UAE Team L'IMAD, retreated to the familiar jagged mountains and snaking roads of Passo San Pellegrino in the Dolomites to fine-tune our preparation. Located on a quiet dead-end road at 1,800m elevation, we were fuelled with home-cooked Italian cuisine and supported by a network of physios, coaches, nutritionists and, of course, thrived off one another. We suffered together – but I will say, I believe I suffered a bit more, climbing mountains, in the wake of the GC riders.

Behind the scenes, while we riders lay on the massage tables or relaxed in our beds after a hard day on the pedals, the whole team is in full planning mode. There is equipment to be considered (which model of Colnago for which days? Which gearing do you want?), the logistics of riders arriving from all over Europe, health management, strategic considerations. Our DS and aerodynamic specialist are in France doing recons of all the stages. The coaches are monitoring our load and preparing reports for the performance team, the materials staff are allocating new kit, the chef is preparing a menu for the Tour, the media team is scheduling interviews and photoshoots.

Our job now is to respect the balance between work and rest, do our homework and learn the demands of each stage, take notes from VeloViewer and count down the days to the start in Lausanne.

I feel ready, hungry, excited and nervous all at once. I expect fast, aggressive racing and a spectrum of emotions as each stage passes. We are all there to win.

Stay tuned for my next column as the race unfolds.

What can you say about Tadej Pogačar? Once again, he dominated the race from start to finish. There was talk before this Tour de France that Jonas Vingegaard might be that bit closer to Pogačar's level, but for the time the Dane was in the race, it didn't look that way.

The way he climbed Alpe d'Huez on stage 19, the record-breaking time that he ascended it and the time he took back on the breakaway, there's no other rider in the race able to live with him on that climb. He was so confident on that climb; you could tell from the moment he attacked, and I think he could have gone faster if he needed to – there are no words to explain how impressive it was from the Slovenian. We've seen so many great rides from Pogačar, but that was the best we've ever witnessed.

For all Pogačar's untouchable displays, though, his UAE Team Emirates-XRG squad didn't have a straightforward Tour de France. There was a lot of sickness they had to deal with: Brandon McNulty was unable to finish, Adam Yates struggled for a few days, and while the team said that Tim Wellens wasn't under the weather, he told Belgian media a different story. So when you're in a team, and your teammates are coming down with illnesses, there's going to be concern that you either lose them from the race, or come down with something yourself. Of course, you never hear the full stories during the race, just little bits of information, and we saw that with Pogačar's knee injury last year, so it will be interesting to see what comes out in the next few days.

Nonetheless, that only makes the final result all the more impressive.

Naturally, focus now turns to what Pogačar will do next, both in the short and long term. The first question is: how many more years will he commit to the Tour de France? Because, while the media, pundits, and fans like to talk about records, Pogačar repeatedly says that's not of much interest to him; he just wants to win different races. It's something that I think he means too, especially when you look at Mark Cavendish's stage win record, that Pogačar is just nine wins away from equaling. There are times when he is going all out for the stage, but others, like stage 20, when the win was certainly within his grasp, where he was riding in support of Del Toro's podium bid.

But in terms of the yellow jersey record, it's a difficult one to read: he could win another two Tours or simply call it quits after next year, especially with the LA 2028 Olympics on his hit list. Either way, at least for the next two years, Vingegaard, Remco Evenepoel, and Paul Seixas will not be able to challenge him.

I think another key factor that will dictate what Pogačar does next is the state his body is in currently. Compared to last year, he's finished this Grand Tour in much better shape. We know that he backed off on some stages in 2025 because of his knee injury, but this year he played with his rivals; you could see that on Alpe d'Huez.

Because of that, I could see him racing La Vuelta a España as soon as this year. He didn't have to go really deep at any point, neither physically nor mentally, because he has shown mental fatigue at the end of Tours previously; he looks fresh. La Vuelta is also definitely a target of his; that's the one he wants to win.

How does Pogačar stack up against other five-time winners?

Pogačar now joins an elite club of just five riders to win Le Tour five times – Anquetil, Merckx, Hinault, Indurain, and now Pogačar. I had to ride against the latter three during my career – even if Merckx and I only crossed over for a year of our professional careers – and would say that it's difficult to compare Pogačar with his clubmates.

They all raced in a time when everyone was fairly equal in terms of equipment and preparation. But I think Pogačar's standout attribute, compared to these other guys, is that he's strong in every department. He can sprint, he can time trial, he can climb at a rate that no one else can live with, and if you go back through the other winners, it's not the same story. Bernard Hinault, for example, was good on the big climbs, but he wasn't a super climber and had to limit his losses at times. The same applies for Eddy Merckx; he had to really fight to avoid losing time to his challengers on those mountaintop finishes.

But Pogačar is just riding away from his challengers and has proven to be the best of all time.

Mentally too, in this modern era of cycling, you have to be more relaxed than in previous generations given all the media attention and spotlight. Compared to Vingegaard, for example, he's definitely a much more relaxed and open person, which seems to be a good way to be for him – not too focused or concentrated on the race day after day; it probably makes it easier for him.

Pogačar, who is very open and sometimes even a bit blasé, is in stark contrast to the likes of Miguel Indurain, who wouldn't say boo to a goose. He was a good guy who just did his own thing during races, but he was rather timid. I think that's down to a shift across the sport more than anything, though.

How do you solve a problem like Pogačar?

I previously wrote about why I was against Paul Seixas riding the Tour de France at just 19, especially riding for GC as he did. With the end of Pogačar's dominance still an unknown, I think it's going to be another two years before we really see if Seixas can challenge Pogačar, and even then, if Pogačar continues to race the Tour, it will be a tough ask.

The magic question with the Frenchman is whether he’ll continue to improve at the rate he has in the last 12 months.

The concern I have about Seixas is that going from racing in the junior ranks two seasons ago to riding for GC at the Tour, while mightily impressive, might leave long-term traces of fatigue with the efforts he’s put in at this age. I’d be afraid that his full potential might never be reached because he’s tackling the Tour de France at just 19.

When you compare Seixas with Del Toro, you only have to think about last year’s Giro d’Italia and how the Mexican wasn't being talked up as a big favourite, without the expectation of a cycling-mad nation on him as Seixas does. That can play a part in performance.

That being said, were Pogačar to step aside from the Tour, based on their performances this year, Evenepoel, Seixas and Del Toro – who can’t ride away from others like his UAE leader – will make for a very interesting, suspenseful Tour whenever that day comes.

Of course, that’s still the question mark on everyone’s lips, not least those other GC hopefuls dreaming of one day winning the maillot jaune. I know Merckx suggested that Pogačar could even win all three Tours in one year, but I’m not sure if him planning to do that is in his character, given how conservatively you’d have to race. I just don’t see it in most scenarios, apart from if he rides the Giro and Tour, gets through both feeling fairly fresh and thinks 'I might as well go to La Vuelta, if I win it great, if I blow up, so be it' and I reckon people would respect him either way.

But that's part of the beauty about watching cycling while Pogačar is around; you really just don't know what the guy is going to do next. He has such a long palmarès already, so where does it stop?

And so at the conclusion of the 113th Tour de France, it’s no great surprise that Tadej Pogačar has joined the exclusive five-time winners' club. There was little doubt beforehand and little doubt throughout the three weeks that anyone could mount a serious challenge. Once Jonas Vingegaard crashed out of the race on stage 15, the only real interest became who would join the World Champion on the steps of the podium and how many more stages the Slovenian could or would win.

This Pogačar overall victory was probably his least stressful in terms of a rival being at his level on all terrains. When Visma Lease a Bike lost their GC leader Vingegaard, the challenge was never going to be a head-to-head one but potentially an error on the part of UAE Team Emirates-XRG letting dangerous riders be part of an attacking group. Despite illness striking the team in the final week and Brandon McNulty having to abandon, they always had the race situation in hand. The consequence of Pogačar’s dominance at the head of affairs played out between the riders and teams in the fifth to tenth spots in the overall standings as the days counted down in the third and final week. The biggest shock came from a Pinarello-Q36.5 assault, with Tom Pidcock temporarily jumping up to fourth before tumbling back down the rankings as the other teams reacted to being caught out.

Del Toro had a front row seat to a Grand Tour masterclass

The final step on the podium, like in 2025, came down to the two young riders involved in the white jersey classification. Isaac del Toro versus Paul Seixas. Both future stars once the Pogačar era has ended, but here in their first Tour racing in the lead group and learning vital lessons for later. That Del Toro maintained the third spot was as much due to Pogačar's guidance as to the two additional years of maturity he has over his French rival. The Mexican champion had the experience of a Giro d’Italia in his legs, while young Seixas was in totally unknown territory as soon as he passed a week of racing. Even though the latter rode with increasing patience, there’s no way of knowing how a rider will be in the last week of a Grand Tour when they haven’t been near that level of endurance.

What we have seen is that Paul Seixas merits the hype surrounding him, and the work now is for Decathlon CMA CGA to reinforce their squad around him. That might come at the cost of guys like Olav Kooij being left to do their own thing, but it is probably what France expects. The speculation over Seixas’ future is only going to get more intense after his showing at this year's Tour.

Del Toro, on the other hand, is in a more certain situation as Pogačar’s heir apparent, with less stress and a ringside view of how greatness operates.

Then there’s Remco Evenepoel, fighting off the doubters and the Belgian media who expect miracles all day, every day. Some seem to forget that Evenepoel was the only GC rider who put time into the yellow jersey. It was to be expected in the individual time trial but not a given, and more surprising on the two mountain-top finishes. Outsprinting Pogačar and Del Toro at Plateau de Solaison and riding away from the front group on Alpe d’Huez. They might not have been decisive gaps each time, but they were gaps nonetheless, and that has to be good for Evenepoel's confidence. It certainly added weight to his claim to be the main GC leader at Red Bull-Bora-Hansgrohe. We don’t know how Florian Lipowitz would have coped in the final battles, but Evenepoel was one of the few who seemed to be still capable of racing at their best level as Paris came into view.

Seeing Richard Carapaz make the polka dot jersey his own was a masterclass in tactics and commitment from the rider and the EF Education-Easypost squad. Riders in the escape each time, probing, pushing and wearing out the only direct challenge from Valentin Paret-Peintre. The latter was faster but less resistant to the fatigue of sprinting each time with either Carapaz or Ben Healy. Two stage wins in the last week showed the Ecuadorian finished the Tour in better shape than he began it, which is not an easy thing to manage. The drama with Sepp Kuss on the second Alpe d’Huez stage was one of those nail-biting moments when it could easily have gone either way for both of them. An individual win for Visma would have saved their Tour in some ways, but the margins between success and crashing out are often tiny and cruel.

Still, the King of the Mountains prize for Carapaz was a great result and a better outcome than the race leader taking the prize by default of being in the front most days. The classification, and how points are distributed, still needs some revision to bring it back to a competition that is open to more people, though.

Lidl-Trek's teamwork and a blockbuster finale

Something similar to the points classification, which was the main interest once Pogačar had made it clear to his rivals that resistance to his victory was futile. Mads Pedersen came under a lot of pressure from Jasper Philipsen but reacted accordingly, and in the best tradition of maillot vert winners, by going in the breakaway and taking the sprint points available along the way. He needed to be strong, and he was, but kudos also go to Quinn Simmons, who did a massive amount of work to make sure Pedersen stayed in contention. Lidl-Trek with Skjelmose and Ayuso also in the GC battle juggled their resources very well most days, even though there were moments, like stage 17 to Voiron, when they blew up trying to bring back a break which contained Philipsen. They were briefly worried by UAE in the team classification too, but the latter’s illnesses thwarted any chance of taking another of the Tour’s prizes.

For those not yet convinced by the inclusion of the Montmartre final on the last day, then this year’s edition produced one of the highlights of the race. Without rain, it’s certainly open to more riders; but saying that, it is still going to be a Classics-type rider who has a chance. Mathieu van der Poel based his day on following Pogačar in the final, probably because he knew the yellow jersey winning on the Champs-Élysées is one of his wants on an ever-dwindling to-do list. After the Alpe d'Huez and Carapaz-Kuss drama, you wouldn’t have imagined a more spectacular final 15 minutes. The modern peloton is one where our expectations are usually surpassed, and it was a fitting end to the fastest-ever Tour.

For all the astonishing moments and excitement, my memory of the 113th edition will be Tadej Pogačar’s ascent of Alpe d'Huez. He smashed it.

As I write this, online is abuzz with Jonas Vingegaard crashing out of this year’s Tour de France. The potential cause? Being awoken at 2 a.m. for an anti-doping test. Tadej Pogačar, wrote The Guardian’s Jeremy Whittle, said the disturbance could "be a small percentage in why he crashed because he probably didn’t sleep good", adding: "I know how it feels. They woke me up at five in the morning also, but at least I got my deep sleep. It’s better than if they come at two." Why were the Dane and Slovenian woken between 11 p.m. and 6 a.m., which is uncommon from the International Testing Agency (ITA), who roll out the anti-doping programme on behalf of the UCI? No official reasons have been given, and being selected for a test, including out of hours, is a standard part of anti-doping controls, and does not imply any suspicion of, or wrongdoing by, the riders concerned.

However, when WADA first permitted nighttime testing across all its sports in 2015, there was a reason for it. The Cycling Independent Reform Commission (CIRC) stated in 2015 that "the absence of nighttime testing [was] a weakness in the current system", specifically regarding the issue of micro-dosing.

Here, we delve deep into micro-dosing’s detection challenge, made harder by the issue of altitude…

The science says ‘no’

"In 2010, Carsten Lundby and I had a study published [in the European Journal of Applied Physiology] where we sent anonymous doped EPO [the blood-booster erythropoietin] samples to anti-doping laboratories in Cologne and Lausanne to see if the results would come back positive. The results were poor. Not because the technicians are poor, but the gaps in the test, especially the passport."

The words of Dr Paul Robach, who works in the department of biomedical research at the National School of Mountain Sports, Chamonix, France. Robach is a world-leading authority on the blood changes fuelled by either the needle or a mountain.

Back to his eye-opening 2010 research. Half of the subjects who were injected with a significant amount of EPO before moving into the micro-dosing maintenance phase tested negative. Concerning. The World Anti-Doping Agency would rightly counter that the sensitivity of doping tests has improved in the intervening 16 years. Still, in my new book Dope it became clear that the micro-dosing shortcomings remained, one of the major flaws being rapidly flushed-out markers.

"If a rider micro-dosed EPO at 11 p.m. and the doping control officer tested them at six the next morning, they’d catch them with a direct blood test," says Robach. "But the chances would be lower with the passport. It’s because EPO has a short half-life of a few hours."

A direct doping test looks for a prohibited substance or its metabolites in an athlete’s urine or blood, providing evidence that a banned drug has been used. The blood test doesn’t search for specific substances. Instead, it tracks an athlete’s blood markers over time and flags up unusual changes that may indicate doping. While direct tests aim to catch the substance itself, the blood passport is designed to detect the lasting biological effects of doping.

In search of more oxygen

Ultimately, no intelligence agency will communicate the reasons behind targeted or nocturnal testing. But the nighttime testing at the Tour does highlight a limitation of anti-doping procedures when it comes to micro-doping, which is exacerbated when trying to unpick the physiological changes accrued from synthetic EPO compared to altitude-stimulated EPO.

Which is perhaps not surprising, as the aim of each intervention is the same: to boost red blood cells, meaning the rider can tap into more oxygen to fuel working muscles. Achieving that goal by injection is prohibited. Heading high and forcing the oxygen-starved body to generate more EPO to create more red blood cells isn’t.

A 2022 paper by Jonas Saugy highlighted the problem, the researcher revealing that an athlete’s blood profile when micro-dosing was "hardly distinguishable from those identified after hypoxic exposure" without doping.

The similar blood profiles included haemoglobin mass, which is the total amount of haemoglobin (oxygen carrier) in a rider’s red blood cells. There’s a tight relationship between VO2 max and haemoglobin mass, with research revealing that a 1g increase in haemoglobin mass can increase VO2 max by around 4ml/min/kg. As VO2 max is one of the limiting factors when it comes to an endurance sport like road cycling, the benefits are clear.

Further separate research highlights similar benefits enjoyed from micro-dosing and training at altitude. A 2024 study revealed that injecting nine IU/kg of bodyweight of EPO three times weekly over four weeks boosted endurance by up to 6% in trained athletes, which would equate to around 2% in elites, who have less room to grow.

As for altitude training, a 2016 meta-analysis of elite athletes reported an average VO2max increase of around 2%, so similar to those micro-dosing results.

The variability of altitude training

It begs the question: why cheat when the legal means (altitude) deliver similar gains? "A rider’s response to altitude training is highly variable," says Robach. "We have an ongoing study that shows our group’s haematological response to one year at high altitude varies from 1% to 50%."

Robach’s results mirror earlier research charting how elite endurance athletes respond to altitude training camps and whether they can be reliably classified as "responders" or "non-responders." Researchers analysed 82 altitude camps involving 59 athletes and measured changes in haemoglobin mass.

Haemoglobin mass increased after 56% of camps, rising to 65% when athletes trained above 2,000 metres (we’ll come back to that height-related stimulus shortly). However, responses varied greatly both between athletes and within the same athlete across different camps.

"From the 15 athletes who participated in altitude training camps at least twice, 27% always had positive haemoglobin responses; 60% both positive and negative responses; and 13% only negative responses."

In other words, altitude training doesn’t always work. Worse than that for the rider and support staff, it might work for a rider at one camp but not at the next.

Exercise physiologist Inigo Mujika would suggest this variability’s down to sidestepping the five I’s. These are: Iron – inadequate iron intake may compromise adaptations to altitude; Intake – low energy diets don’t support adaptations; Injury – prolonged inflammatory responses associated with serious soft tissue injury can interfere with adaptation; Illness – viral and bacterial infections do the same; and Intensity – excessive workload at the start of an altitude camp can promote excessive fatigue and, again, impair adaptation.

But even with the best-laid plans, results from altitude training remain inconsistent. One reason why is limitations in how low each rider can go…

Triggering HIF-1

"Ultimately, optimising altitude training is around the amount that you can safely reduce your oxygen saturation level [SpO2], which you can measure with a pulse oximeter on the tip of your finger," says top coach and sport scientist Dan Healey, who formerly worked with Alberto Contador at Tinkoff-Saxo. A normal range at sea level is around 95 to 100%. When you train at altitude, the thinner air naturally means that [it] usually drops. "You’ll aim for the rider’s SpO2 to drop to 90 and into the 80s. The sweet spot for optimum EPO production is probably in the 70s."

Healey says you need that rarefied stimulus to trigger a protein complex called hypoxia-inducible factor-1 alpha (HIF-1 alpha). "Every day, HIF-1 alpha is produced but killed. It’s a really complex mechanism. But when you go to altitude, it’s free to do its thing. HIF-1 alpha will join with HIF-2. That’s when you get EPO production and why teams spend a lot of money on altitude camps. Basically, they’re spending top dollar to trigger HIF-1."

But even when ticking those five ‘I’ boxes of Mujika’s, how much HIF-1 alpha is triggered can vary greatly. In Dope, Rory Townsend told me that no matter what he does, his SpO2 levels remain well into the 90s. He’s seemingly a staunch non-responder. That said, he’s never hit the lofty heights of Healey’s recent research.

"The sweet spot for triggering HIF-1 is around 5,000m," he says. "You’ll need to do it in really short doses of extreme hypoxia – so SpO2 in the 70s for accelerated EPO release – though you must monitor the rider closely and ensure things are done safely."

Cyclingnews reiterates that this type of training should only be carried out under the supervision of expert medical guidance.

Robach agrees that adding a little more certainty from altitude training might require going higher than the 2-2,500m that most teams peak at. "But many coaches are concerned if they go too high the riders will be too fatigued or not sleep. I think it’d be okay at 3-3,500m. But 5,000m? That’s exploratory and yet to be scientifically proven."

Exercise physiologists and sports scientists love nothing more than consistency. That their research and applied practice delivers gains time and time again. It’s repeatable. That’s anathema to altitude training. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. But with micro-dosing EPO? "Ultimately, you’ll have a higher chance of consistently boosting your haemoglobin mass with EPO than altitude," says Robach. "Altitude training is complicated."

What of the future?

So, there are compelling reasons why a rider might micro-dose, especially at altitude, as there’s evidence that you enjoy a double boost, again without testing negative unless tested close to injection time.

It’s also not solely about micro-dosing EPO. Both infusing your own blood and injecting human growth hormone at nominal levels deliver a physiological advantage and a small detection window.

Which is why a credible anti-doping system can’t rely so much on the biological blood passport. Sidestepping the cost implications of research and implementing a new test that’s legally watertight, are there new tests on the horizon that could actually solve the micro-dosing and altitude riddle?

Possibly. While much of the focus has been on changes in reticulocytes and other red blood cell markers, an alternative approach may be to examine shifts in plasma volume. One of the primary physiological responses to altitude exposure is a reduction in plasma volume – the liquid component of blood – which can influence many of the variables monitored by the biological passport.

WADA has already explored machine-learning models that estimate an athlete’s expected plasma volume over time, using artificial intelligence to distinguish normal physiological variation from patterns consistent with doping. Although this would require an additional blood measurement, incorporating plasma volume estimates could help differentiate the effects of altitude exposure from those of EPO micro-dosing.

"There’s also great potential in the area of omics," says Robach. This taps into the ongoing work of Professor Yannis Pitsiladis, a leading advocate for applying omics technologies – genomics, transcriptomics, proteomics and metabolomics – to anti-doping. By analysing thousands of biological markers simultaneously, these approaches could reveal subtle signatures of EPO use, blood manipulation and other forms of doping, potentially improving detection.

"Exploring iron metabolism could pay off, too," adds Robach, who along with colleagues has shown that even low doses of recombinant EPO stimulate the hormone erythroferrone and corresponding changes in iron regulation. Altitude doesn’t result in the same iron profile.

"But my dream is that EPO manufacturers put a tracer in their drugs," says Robach, "but I can’t see the likes of Novo Nordisk doing that. Their drugs are for therapeutic purposes. Understandably, sporting abuse isn’t top of their concerns."

It’s clear that anti-doping faces two fundamental challenges: how do you detect a performance-boosting substance that has such a short half-life? And how do you separate a rider’s legitimate adaptation to the mountains from an artificial attempt to recreate the same advantage? It’s also clear that the battle against micro-dosing will not be won by one breakthrough test. Altitude, EPO and blood manipulation all exploit the same physiological pathway: increasing oxygen delivery through red blood cells. As detection evolves, the future may lie in looking beyond traditional blood markers towards plasma volume, iron metabolism and omics. Until then, the flaws of micro-dosing mean athlete welfare will play second fiddle to the credibility of the anti-doping system.

A lot has happened since my last diary: we’ve got a week more racing in the legs, we’ve crossed to the other side of France, and the team has a stage win thanks to Mauro Schmid! For every team, there’s always so much pressure to get something out of the Tour de France, so having that win has been like a bit of a pressure valve release for the whole team. We still want more, but we can take on each stage now knowing that this year’s race has already been a success and that everything else from here on in is a bonus.

It was an amazing day all around and such a bloody awesome team effort from all of the boys. Mauro was the first of us to get in the big break at the start, but we knew that we needed more of us in there if we wanted to make it work. Bling [Michael Matthews], Ben [O'Connor], and I managed to get into a chase group further into the stage. It was a big group, but the boys at the front were going fast, so it was a proper job to get across the gap.

Once we were there with Mauro, it was a case of getting ourselves over that category-one climb in the best position possible. I thought the way we rode as a team was amazing, and for Mauro to finish it off was impressive. He’s had such an incredible season, so it was great to see him continue that form, especially after losing out on stage 11 in Toulouse last year.

When we got back to the hotel, we had a beautiful dinner with the whole team, staff and riders, with a bit of a toast. It was a really nice gathering, and we were able to reflect on how special it was to win as a team, and how old-school GreenEDGE it was in the way we won the stage. With that victory in the bank now, we’ve been able to race with a bit more freedom and with even more confidence. Not many teams will finish this Tour de France with a win, so to have already done it is pretty sweet. It was a special week.

Now we’re heading into the final week, and it feels like Paris is within touching distance. I really maxed out on the 'rest' part of the second rest day, basically doing as little as possible before we got back to racing. I’m writing this diary after the stage 16 individual time trial. I haven’t been feeling great the last couple of days, but I was still hopeful of what I could do.

Very early on, though, I knew that it wasn’t going to be a day for me, so I parked it up and decided to focus on the days to come. It was a bit of a shame not to have the legs I was hoping for today, but there’s still a week of racing to go and some stages that suit us.

Mauro’s win was a bit early for our team owner Gerry Ryan to see; he arrived at the race the day after, so we’re hoping that we can give him a win while he’s here. He’s done so much for GreenEDGE over the years, so it’s always special when we can pay him back with a victory. Needless to say, the boys are super motivated.

Looking at where my teammates and I can target during this final week, I feel that stage 17 is really good for Bling with that climb at the end. Stage 18 is another good opportunity for the breakaway, hopefully, and obviously Paris is another chance for Pascal [Ackermann].

It will be interesting to see how the final week plays out, especially with Jonas [Vingegaard] out of the race. It was a shame to see him go like that. Hopefully, the breakaways will be given some opportunities to have a go. The weather is cooling down, which is good; the feistiness of the peloton has definitely simmered down too, but everyone is getting tired.

My rest day started on Sunday, as I turned onto the final climb of the day up Plateau de Solaison. The racing on stage 15 of the Tour de France was fast and furious; the speed was incredible, exactly what you’d expect from the best riders in the world battling it out. There was a huge fight to get into the breakaway, and I was also interested because our strategy was to have a rider up the road to get over the steep climb after 130 kilometres and then help Lenny [Martinez] on the approach to the final climb.

I was having a good day and managed to sneak into the breakaway. There weren’t many riders left up ahead by the time the yellow jersey group caught me. Visma-Lease a Bike had set a really high pace on the steep climb, keeping the breakaway within reach to give Jonas [Vingegaard] a chance to fight for the stage. I had just made my way back to the group after collecting fresh bottles and ice from the team car when I saw the chaos at a roundabout. Jonas, Isaac [Del Toro] and a few other riders were on the ground, and it didn’t look good.

These things can happen. We race for 3,500 kilometres, always pushing the limits on roads designed to regulate traffic, not to serve as race tracks. I’d say we’re actually doing pretty well when you consider how few incidents there are at the speeds we travel through these villages. Traffic furniture is designed for vehicles moving at 30 to 50 km/h, not for bike riders travelling at over 60 km/h, riding centimetres apart, sitting in the slipstream with almost no visibility, especially when the road is slightly downhill.

A crash like this shatters your dreams. You do everything you can to prepare. You spend weeks and months away from your family, training and racing while living out of a suitcase, weighing every bite of food and patiently following all the numbers in training, trying to enjoy the process along the way. Then, just when the moment comes to make it all count, it can disappear in a split second because of a momentary lapse in concentration or one small mistake. Sometimes it isn’t even your mistake, and maybe then it’s a little easier because you can blame destiny. I always find it hardest when you make the mistake yourself, and you’re left wondering how you could have avoided it. Cycling is cruel, just as life can sometimes be cruel. But luckily, it’s only cycling. It’s something we’re deeply passionate about, and moments like this hurt, but they probably won’t top the list of the worst things that can happen to you in life.

After the crash, there was a moment of confusion in the group. Nobody really knew what to do. Everyone wanted to wait for Jonas to get back on, but a few moments later we received confirmation on the radio that he wasn’t getting back on the bike. Tom [Pidcock] was still up the road, fighting for his GC position alongside Lenny, so we had to get back to work and keep the gap under control.

A few kilometres later, we reached the bottom of the final climb and my job was done. I had plenty of time to finish within the time limit, so I could really enjoy the crowds. It’s always so good to see the fans, especially all the young families with children, everyone genuinely enjoying the Tour passing through their towns. Whenever I finish a bottle, I always try to hand it to a passionate kid by the roadside. I like to think that maybe, a few years from now, one of them will take my place in the peloton. It’s still a dream come true for me, and if I had the chance, I’d do it all over again.

A lie in, savouring food, and shaving my arms

We actually got to our hotel pretty early on Sunday evening, at around 8 p.m., which is unusual, especially on the night before a rest day. Our chefs prepared another fantastic dinner in the kitchen truck, and I was looking forward to getting to bed a little earlier than usual and, for once, not setting an alarm. I managed to fall asleep before 11pm and slept right through until around 9:30am.

This year I’m doing pretty well with my sleep. I can still fall asleep in under 40 minutes, and I only wake up once or twice during the night or early morning to go to the bathroom. My resting heart rate on Sunday was only eight beats higher than my lowest resting heart rate before the race started, and my HRV was still around 40ms. For comparison, I rarely get much above 100ms even when I’m completely fresh. So my body isn’t completely burned out yet, but a rest day will definitely do me good.

There’s also the added benefit of Tuesday’s time trial, which for me will almost be another rest day. I won’t need to push too hard to finish inside the time limit, and I’ll need every bit of energy I can save for Wednesday. I don’t think there’s much chance that stage 17 will be controlled. There are still plenty of teams without a stage win, and for many of us this could be our only real opportunity to fight for one. It’s going to be an absolute battlefield, and I’m really looking forward to it.

But first, I’m making the most of the relaxed rest day atmosphere. We’ll head out for an easy coffee ride, take our time over meals and actually savour the food instead of simply cramming in the calories and carbs for fuel. I’ll make sure there’s enough time in the afternoon for a proper nap. There should even be time to shave my legs, and I might shave my arms for a change too, so that I have absolutely no regrets if it somehow comes down to the width of a tyre in a sprint on Wednesday. It’s probably very unlikely, but it’s happened to me before. I’d rather be 101% ready and know, with a clear conscience, that I’ve done absolutely everything in my power to be the best I can be.

The Tour de France thrives on a close rivalry, and the removal of the only constant in the challenge to Tadej Pogačar’s dominance – after Jonas Vingegaard crashed out on stage 15 – means a reset not only in the GC group but also in how the race will be conducted during the final week.

But before looking ahead, it's worth reflecting on the last six stages and the conclusions that we can draw from them.

It seems like a long time ago now, but the second week began, in an almost routine manner, with a Pogačar stage win. In his usual style, he kept the break in check and then attacked on the penultimate climb, passing a valiant Richard Carapaz and soloing to the finish. Behind, Vingegaard gave chase but had little help from the others in his group before they all jumped him in sight of the finish line. They were not strong enough to collaborate with the Visma-Lease a Bike leader, but strangely reinvigorated when the line came into sight. It has been, up until his untimely exit, an all-too-familiar tale in pursuit of Pogačar. However, with Vingegaard's abandonment, it's an option for the podium contenders that no longer exists, and that is going to change so many tactics.

Another pair of stage wins for Pogačar is no surprise in the second week, and neither was another sprint victory for Tim Merlier despite Alpecin-Premier Tech having the best leadout train. They still haven’t got their timing right for Philipsen at the stage finishes, which was something that Søren Wærenskjold took advantage of in Nevers.

After holding the race lead in the first week, another Uno-X Mobility celebration on day 12 was a refreshing change to the status quo of the usual names grabbing the limelight.

Then there was the tricky route to Belfort and a Pinarello-Q36.5 plan to put Tom Pidcock fully into the GC fight. Up until then, Pidcock had been hiding just outside the top 10, but a super day and equally super teammates changed things completely. He took a chance, and it paid off, climbing to fourth on GC, which must have been a wake-up call for the guys he leapfrogged in the overall classification.

An even bigger fright came the next day when the Briton sneezed into the escape again, and what could have been a day of relative calm became another stage that increased both stress levels and fatigue. Though it was probably not the best decision to go in the break when a GC race is mainly about patience and choosing when to commit fully, it was a sign that, for Pidcock, this Tour is as much about seeking a stage win as it is about testing where he is in the Grand Tour hierarchy and noting what can be worked on.

Then there’s the satisfaction element to take into consideration because there’s no joy in being dragged around for three weeks with no real influence on proceedings. I don’t think that is something Pidcock would even contemplate, so no surprise he tried again on the first proper mountain top finish heading into the second rest day. This was definitely an effort too far, which was shown by his capitulation on the slopes of Plateau de Solaison, losing nearly four minutes inside the last 4km. He has some decisions to make on the rest day concerning how hard he rides the upcoming time trial and how much energy he should save for the Alpe d’Huez days in the second half of the week.

Now that Visma-Lease a Bike no longer have Vingegaard in the race, their contributions at the head of affairs will end, and they’ll be in the stage-hunting battle along with the likes of EF Education-EasyPost and Jayco-AlUla. The big groups of attackers we have seen in the middle week might have been successful only once, when Mauro Schmid outsprinted Harold Tejada on stage 13, but that’ll change as there’s a reshuffling in the podium game.

I have to admit that I didn’t have Remco Evenepoel on my bingo card for the win on stage 15, given he had been struggling on the longer climbs earlier in the race and I thought the Salève climb was going to hurt him more than his direct rivals, but what a pleasant surprise and what a way to silence his critics in the Belgian media. It was a great ride and a great sprint to beat the UAE duo of Pogačar and Del Toro.

I do wonder just how much the result was affected by Vingegaard's crash because Pogačar looked quite subdued. Although he rode to distance Paul Seixas, moving Del Toro into the lead of the youth classification, he didn’t seem totally concentrated on ensuring another stage win. Evenepoel, in contrasting fashion, was clearly motivated and on a super day, which bodes very well for Tuesday's time trial.

It’ll be interesting to see how Seixas reacts now that he is deep into unknown territory – with no experience of how his body is going to cope in a third consecutive week of racing. So far he’s been solid, but the Vingegaard situation removes one of the reference points for him and Decathlon CMA CGM to manage their efforts.

Looking at the green jersey competition, and while Mads Pedersen might seem a fairly safe bet to have the jersey tied up, it is far from decided. He had an 88-point lead over Jasper Philipsen at the conclusion of stage 10, but six days later, that has been reduced to only 31. That is considerably less comfortable. With Mattias Skjelmose and Juan Ayuso fairly steady in their GC positions, Lidl-Trek could change how they manage their resources in support of Pedersen. They certainly can’t let another panic happen, like the stage 13 fiasco, when they missed Philipsen placing himself in Pidcock's breakaway.

Along with the race tactics and the consequences of the crashes, there’s the question of the 2am drug testing to deal with too. Yes, there’s a need to conduct the controls, and yes, they can be a surprise; however, there needs to be better judgment of when they happen. After midnight seems a really intrusive choice, to the point that it shows a lack of respect for the athlete. When you realise that Tadej Pogačar would have been tested after the stage already, and to go through that again barely eight hours later seems strange.

There are human rights issues involved that the PCA ought to be making clear to the UCI; there’s monitoring, and then there’s intrusion, which I feel is what happened on this occasion. Will Evenepoel and Seixas be getting the same treatment in the coming days is a question that immediately springs to mind.

As the peloton rolls out for the second week of the Tour de France, the question on many riders' and fans' lips will be whether UAE Team Emirates-XRG can sustain their stranglehold over the peloton. As a team, they're riding so well, and thanks to Tadej Pogačar's early exploits in the Pyrenees, there seems to be very little pressure on their shoulders. But is that a good way to race Le Tour?

There are still two weeks to go, and if you happen to lose a rider or two to sickness or crashes, you quickly find yourself with a smaller squad and the remaining riders fatigued from their earlier efforts. There are often times when you could question the team management's decisions when they're out on the road, what are they doing this for, or why are they chasing this? But when Pogačar is as good as he is at the moment, you can maybe make those little mistakes because he can correct everything later on.

From my experience, in a three-week race, you have to be conservative in the first week, and in this Tour, the same applies to the second week, given the mountains awaiting them in the last few days of this year's route. The third week is also when fatigue can really start to set in amongst the riders, especially so considering the hot conditions this year – you just don't know the effect it's going to have come the Alps. UAE Team Emirates-XRG's domestiques are making efforts and controlling stages, riding at the front when they don't really have to do it. But they're by far the stronger team compared to Visma-Lease a Bike, and are riding so well.

Of course, their motives aren't always completely clear. Take Sunday's stage for example, UAE were keeping the breakaway on a really tight leash, and there were a lot of teams, and commentators too, for that matter, asking 'What are you doing here, riding on the front? Are you going for the stage win or just controlling?'

Speaking from experience, when riders who know each other go and ask these kinds of questions, they'll get an answer, but it's never a straight one. UAE probably said they were going to 'control' on Sunday, but what does that really mean? Does it mean you just want to control the time limit for Pogačar's GC rivals, or do you want to control the stage outcome?

Given the way the Slovenian is riding, I expect this next week of medium mountain stages to possess the best opportunities for the breakaway. I say this because, come next weekend and into the third week, UAE will control and target those high mountain days. For the breakaway, those sorts of stages will be difficult to dictate. In years gone by, they would have offered great chances when the GC contenders stayed in the bunch, and those who got up the road would typically do battle for the day's honours. But, with the way UAE are riding, you can make a massive effort to get in the break, alongside some other top climbers, but they might only give you two minutes because Pogačar wants to ride for the win. I think we're going to see a lot of that. So the opportunities lie on those transitional, medium-mountain stages for riders who want to win via the break.

Searing heat, Seixas' steady start, and Netcompany-Ineos' conundrum

Perhaps the only thing more relentless than UAE Team Emirates-XRG so far this Tour de France has been the high temperatures across Spain and France. It's been a challenge for riders, and naturally, the race organisers too. What can they do, though? Suggestions to start stages early in the morning, to avoid the hottest part of the day, will almost certainly face pushback from broadcasters wanting the stages to finish in the evening when the viewership is highest.

It's definitely becoming a problem, and answers aren't clear to see, unless you move the Tour away from July, which again organisers wouldn't want to do because July is Tour de France time, it's holiday season around Europe, and what makes the race so great is the spectators lining the roads day after day, mountains covered with spectators.

Unfortunately, it feels like one of those issues where a rider has to get sunstroke and subsequently crash before change or a solution is found with any urgency.

While riding in hot weather isn't necessarily anything new, I've rarely seen such a prolonged period at the Tour. I remember the 1989 and 1990 Tours, we were riding near Marseille with the temperature at 40°C and essentially just had bidons of water to keep us cool, ice socks hadn't made it into the peloton by this point, and I suspect several riders lost time because of the heat. We didn't have the support from neutral service and team cars as they do now, with fridges full of bottles on the back of a motorbike, so it was just a case of constantly pouring water over our heads.

However, you only got that for one or two days before the weather broke; the spells of hot conditions have certainly got longer over the last couple of years. So teams have to do more to keep riders cool, with more personnel, bottles, and cooling equipment to ensure their guys don't suffer or lose out due to overheating.

In terms of riders and teams that were coming in with expectations, Paul Seixas was one of the biggest talking points coming into this Tour, and I think he's performing well so far. The team were obviously hoping for him to be able to keep pace with Pogačar and Vingegaard, but even though he's slightly off that level at the moment, the third and final week is where his Tour will be determined. He may still struggle to keep up with the top two, but I can see him contending for the podium, and he's very much a part of that conversation at the first rest day.

Meanwhile, Netcompany-Ineos, a team with Tour de France pedigree, have had a complex race so far. Their first objective of the team time trial, a stage they were favourites for alongside winners Visma-Lease a Bike, proved eight seconds out of reach, and I feel that had it turned out differently, it might have calmed the ship and changed how they raced the opening week. Obviously, losing Oscar Onley, and with him their GC hopes, was a big blow, so they've had to adapt their team, but neither Dorian Godon nor Kévin Vauquelin look to be at their best level to compete in the sprints or breakaways at the minute.

Former Tour winner Egan Bernal is the best-placed Netcompany-Ineos rider in the overall standings, currently in 10th spot, but I'm afraid he's going to struggle to stay there as the race progresses, especially considering he's already tackled the Giro this year, too.

Sunday's stage also saw them riding on the front for Filippo Ganna, something I was quite surprised by in the commentary booth. Yes, he managed to grab fifth in the sprint for the minor placings, but had it been for the win, I don't think he'd have ranked as highly.

But such is the case at the Tour, and this doesn't just apply to Netcompany-Ineos. Teams will try everything and anything to do well there, whether it be their solitary moment of success or their seventh stage win, even if you find yourself questioning their tactics.

We made it to the first rest day, yet it feels like the Grand Départ in Barcelona was only yesterday. Even though this is my eighth appearance at the Tour de France, it still feels just as special as the first time.

For me, there’s no better feeling than the excitement of knowing that, for almost a month, you get to live the dream of racing the biggest bike race in the world. The fact that I now know more or less what to expect makes it even better for me.

I love the speed and the adrenaline of this race. I know I’ll remember these moments for the rest of my life, and if I could go back in time and show this experience to my 12-year-old self, when I first started racing bikes, I would have been massively proud.

The race started with a team time trial this time around. It’s probably the most complicated discipline in cycling, especially from the team’s perspective. Everyone really needs to do their part for the riders to even make it to the start ramp on time, and then it takes a complete team effort to perform well all the way to the finish line.

We were going really well on the flat part of the course, and everything went exactly to plan until we hit the roundabout just before the first of the two uphill sections in the final. This was my final pull, and I was completely at my limit. I had been trusted with this part because it was full of corners and normally I’m quite good at taking the right lines, but this time I got it completely wrong and entered the roundabout way too far on the inside. Luckily, I had made the same mistake in the recon, so my Bahrain-Victorious teammates behind me saw it coming and didn’t follow me.

Otherwise, it could have been a disaster. I ended up in the fence but somehow didn’t hurt myself at all. It was really embarrassing, but at least we got some material to joke about for the rest of the race. And I’m sure I’ll be reminded about it any time I come close to Barcelona again.

The race went on and very quickly started to reveal itself. UAE Team Emirates-XRG showed that they have the best team in the race, and Tadej Pogačar showed that he’s still the best rider in the world when he rode away from everyone on the Tourmalet. This wasn’t really a surprise to me. I feel that when conditions are this extreme, the differences in level become even more obvious. There’s less room to hide.

Handling the Tour's relentless heat

Heat is almost like altitude in that sense: some riders adapt better and feel less uncomfortable than others, and once the race has started, there’s not much more you can do beyond the heat training and preparation you’ve done beforehand.

To be able to race in these temperatures, with the last 10 days ranging between 35°C and 47°C measured on our cycling computers, we go through incredible quantities of bottles and ice.

I start every day by wearing a cooling vest to the team presentation, then putting two ice socks down my back and sometimes another one on my chest, alongside some extra ice cubes tucked under my arm sleeves.

During the race, I pour cold water over myself every 20 to 30 minutes, allowing it to evaporate and cool my skin.

When the air temperature is higher than body temperature, the breeze we get from the speed literally feels like a warm hairdryer blowing on our skin. You can imagine how quickly the water evaporates and how fast you start to overheat if you run out of fresh, cold water because you missed a bottle in the feed zone. In these conditions, the bottles become more important than almost anything else in the race.

I asked our sports director how many bottles we go through in a stage. For a four-hour stage, we use around 80 bottles of water and 40 bottles of our carbohydrate drink, as well as somewhere between 60 and 80 ice socks, all in an attempt to keep cool.

I’ve definitely raced in similar conditions before, but never for so many days in a row. We’ll see how it affects us during the rest of the race. The doctors constantly monitor our hydration status, and I feel we’re doing everything we can, but I still think we’ll end up more tired than in previous years simply because of all the extra effort required to manage the heat.

I’m now thinking about the second week and the opportunities it might present. Lenny [Martinez] has the goal of going for the polka-dot jersey, so we’re always making sure he has everything he needs and helping him stay cool for as long as we can. There are also a few sprint stages, and I still believe Phil [Bauhaus] can at least get a podium in one of them, so we’ll fight for that.

Personally, on paper, I can only see one real opportunity for myself. Friday’s stage is quite long and comes after two consecutive days of the same riders having to control the breakaway.

I would guess they’ll be a little tired by that point, and with a climb in the final, there might be an opportunity for a strong breakaway to form – either from the start or later in the final – and try to stay away from the sprinters. I think the stages over the weekend are more suited to the pure climbers, and it will be challenging to get involved in the fight for the stage there, especially if the heat persists.

Anyway, I’ll make the most of today, get some extra sleep and make sure I stay focused and ready to race. There are always opportunities at the Tour, but you have to be ready to take them when they come!

'The Tour is Over’ was the headline at the conclusion of Thursday's big Pyrenean stage. On the menu for the sixth day of the 2026 Tour de France was the Col d’Aspin, the Col du Tourmalet, and a long uphill grind to the relatively unknown finish in Gavernie-Gèdre. Tadej Pogačar blasts the favourites group apart, and that’s it; the race has taken a direction of travel with only one outcome. Somehow, everyone is surprised, shocked, or appalled. For many, it’s all three emotions, and the culprit is the pre-race favourite who is also the guy chasing a fifth overall victory.

Oh, ye of little memory. Can it really be a surprise that after the first GC rendezvous, there has been a GC sort-out? I mean, what has Tour de France history taught us about this situation? Well, you don’t have to go back to the days of the 'Club des Cinq' to be reminded of how that select group got their campaigns started almost every time they won. They went all in on the first proper GC test, blasted the competition aside and controlled the situation to their advantage from then on.

They would lay down a dominant physical performance that said quite plainly, 'don’t even think about overturning my lead; otherwise, I’ll do it again, and you’ll be even further behind.' A physical blow and a psychological beating were delivered in that opening encounter. Anquetil and Indurain would do it in a time trial, whereas Merckx and Hinault could do it either in a TT or the first big mountain stage, and that would be their textbook play. Any opportunity afterwards would be icing on the cake that already had their name on it. Even when Team Sky came along with Wiggins and Froome, it was the same thing: hit them hard on the stage where the GC hierarchy would be determined, then control from then on – shock and awe tactics at their finest.

Watching UAE Team Emirates-XRG set the tempo on Aspin and then open up fully on the hardest parts of Tourmalet, I was immediately reminded of the Col de Romme in 2021. Pogačar had won his first Tour the year before in the final time trial, deposing Primož Roglič at the last minute, so he started the following year as favourite. On the first GC day, stage 8 finishing with a Romme-Colombière double before the descent into Le Grand-Bornand. Davide Formolo led out at the beginning of the penultimate climb, Pogačar then attacked, and only Richard Carapaz tried to follow but got blown off the wheel for his troubles. Tadej blasted up the Colombière, down the other side, and though he didn’t win the stage on that occasion, his GC rivals lost three minutes. In the overall standings, Jonas Vingegaard, who went on to be his closest competition, was at five minutes. The Dane only conceded another 20 seconds by the time the race reached Paris, but the damage of stage 8 set the tone. All in, let's see who is where and if you can’t follow, then it’s going to be very difficult to overturn any losses incurred.

After TTT triumph, Visma's frailties have been exposed

The historic lessons are there, and then there were the two road stages in Barcelona as a precursor to what was going to happen on the Tourmalet when La Mongie came into view. Visma-Lease a Bike winning the team time trial was a slight surprise and probably a wake-up call to Pogačar and company. Especially given that their big rivals were sans Wout Van Aert but could still deliver such a performance, yet the reply came the very next day. Issac del Toro led out in the final uphill finish, Tadej let the wheel go and, seeing no one was capable of closing the gap, waited until the right moment and rode across to his protegé. I’m not of the opinion that he let the Mexican win and more in the camp of Del Toro deserved the stage honours, which was an outcome that the world champion didn’t need to challenge.

And then the next day, on a slightly harder finish, Del Toro repaid the favour with Pogačar taking the stage and the yellow jersey off the shoulders of Vingegaard.

We had the perfect start to the Tour: Vingegaard with two days in the race lead, the UAE guys dictating the peloton, and Del Toro and Pogačar the strongest climbers in the first few skirmishes. Everything pointed to the Pyrenees being the opening battle in the GC war, and so when Adam Yates stood on the pedals through the avalanche shelters approaching La Mongie, those riders in the first group knew this was where the real test was happening. Del Toro accelerated out of the last tunnel onto the wide open section where you are hoping for a breather before the passage through La Mongie, and Pogačar took over. As soon as Vingegaard looked around for help, they knew the Dane was in trouble. If he didn’t close the 10-second gap on the ramp out of the village, he wasn’t going to do it in the final 3.5km to the summit.

Turns out he couldn’t, went too deep, and Pogačar never let him recover on the descent. By the time they reached Luz St Sauveur, for Vingegaard it was perfectly clear who was the strongest, and the 20km of rising valley road to the line were where he lost another two minutes to Pogačar. The body language said he was done, but Pogačar wasn’t exactly fresh either; he may have won the stage and reclaimed yellow, but it cost him too. He had to ride at 100 per cent to break the will of everyone, and that’s not something we have seen too often in the last couple of years. There’s hope yet, and he’s not five minutes behind like he was in 2021 when Pogačar blew everyone away in similar circumstances. A 2:42 deficit is one bad moment and a tactical mistake in the Alps. The GC isn’t done, but it’ll be difficult to poke a hole in the UAE armour.

I think what is more worrying is that, so far, Visma's climbers haven’t shown the level they need to take on the UAE armada. Sepp Kuss and Davide Piganzoli were expected to be near their leader in crucial moments, and they’ve been patchy.

The euphoria of having the first yellow jersey has worn off quickly, and the sprint and transition stages that preceded and followed the Pyrenees have shown that Van Aert’s absence could be a factor in the next phase of the race. Victor Campenaerts does his role of protecting Vingegaard well; however, they don’t have a rider who can cover the breakaways and be a really useful asset on a really hard day. If they have to use Matteo Jorgensen on the tough stages between the big mountains, then he’s going to be dropped earlier when the major climbs are the crunch moments. The Dutch squad might be waiting on UAE to falter, but so far that scenario hasn’t looked likely. On the contrary, Pogačar and his teammates are in a good place and probably thinking about getting Isaac Del Toro into the runner-up spot come Paris. All the interactions between the race leader and the Mexican champion seem to be 'this is the how, where and when of the Tour and if you stay close to Tadej then you’ll learn how things work at this level.'

While others falter, could Del Toro and Seixas capitalise?

Del Toro is in a similar position to Paul Seixas, except he has less pressure than the young French star and more freedom to initiate situations without intense scrutiny of his motives. With nine days of racing done, Seixas is in unknown territory as far as his recovery and strength are concerned. He has handled the conditions and stresses at this level remarkably; the Tourmalet didn’t break him, and he was one of the strongest in that test, so how he manages this middle week will be interesting. Decathlon have had their good surprise with Olav Kooij winning the first of the bunch sprint finishes, so the Seixas story can develop at its own pace. However, I imagine the Red Bull duo of Remco Evenepoel and Florian Lipowitz will not only be looking at each other but also at the Decathlon leader very closely.

There’s always some intra-team drama on the Tour, and this year it looks like it’s going to be a Red Bull-Bora-Hansgrohe affair. Remco hasn’t got full control of his emotions yet, so we will probably see more outbursts if he has a difficult moment or two. Compared to Lipowitz, who seems unfazed by most things, Remco hasn’t quite mastered dealing with not meeting his own expectations or those he has placed on others. He’s looked good, sometimes ominously so, but whether that translates into being directly involved in testing Pogačar and Del Toro remains to be seen. There’s plenty of time ahead where frustration is going to be knocking at his door again, and if it’s his co-leader whom he sees riding off into the distance, then there’ll be someone, probably from a Belgian media outfit, who’ll be asking how he felt in that moment.

The only thing for sure for Red Bull-Bora-Hansgrohe going into the first rest day is that their press conference will be well attended.

Pedersen's strategy for green is going to plan

Quoting the general media trend that Tadej Pogačar is going to win the race, the only classification of any contest looks set to be the points jersey. Mads Pedersen came with that in mind, and a Lidl Trek squad with that as the main aim alongside Mattias Skjelmose's GC challenge as an add-on. So far, Mads is doing what he has to do: get in the breaks, hoover up the points from there and make the top-10 in the sprint finishes if that’s how the stage pans out. As the middle part of the race develops, more of the pure sprinters will tire, and Pedersen will hopefully move from being in that 8-10th spot to the top five.

Binian Girmay isn’t letting him have that jersey just yet, though. However, neither are as fast as Tim Merlier, though given that Soudal QuickStep have ridden to make sure a bunch sprint happens, it seems like a fair reward for their efforts. Over at Alpecin-Premier Tech, who have done even more peloton pulling, it hasn’t quite gone as smoothly for Jasper Philipsen, despite the Mathieu van der Poel leadouts. The stage win means pressure is off now for MVDP, winning on a so-called traditional transition day. Those up-and-down days in 40 degrees with melting tarmac and energy-sapping little climbs in most of the descents are horrible, which explains why we see the likes of Tom Pidcock and Van der Poel giving 110 per cent on these occasions. They are basically Classics conducted under a blazing sun in the middle of a three-week race. Only 40 or so riders surviving in the main bunch tells the story that getting from the Pyrenees to the Alps is always going to come at some cost.

Sadly, as can also be a traditional happening, we lost a maillot jaune in the heat of the battle. For Uno-X, having Torstein Træen in the race lead was a dream come true, crashing and breaking bones less so, but they are in every escape, and Tobias Johannessen is involved in the GC battle too, so I would say that everything from now on is a happy bonus. It probably won’t be covered as much as the GC or Red Bull sagas to come, but there have to be good moments to sit alongside the ups and downs of life at the very top.

Grand Tours are a bit of a time black hole. Once you start one, any sense of time gets sucked into the black hole. It’s eat, sleep, race, repeat. At this point in the race, I couldn’t tell you what day of the week it is, but I know that we’re almost at the first rest day of the Tour de France. After over a week of hard racing, I’m looking forward to it. It’s a chance to switch off, get some extra sleep, maybe take a coffee ride with the boys, and catch up with my friends and family.

This is my second Tour de France, and it feels a little more like a formality this time around, like any other race. Last season, when I made my debut, there was so much hype and excitement around it, and I didn’t know so much what to expect. It was a lot to take in. Now that I have my first one done, I wouldn’t say I’m a Tour veteran just yet, but I feel like I’ve got the swing of things and can manage the stresses of the race much more easily.

The first week has gone by quickly, and that team time trial on stage 1 already feels like it was a lifetime ago. We’ve already done over 1,000km since Barcelona. Getting to open the race with a team time trial in the Catalan capital was pretty special.

I’ve always heard from others that the final stage of the Volta a Catalunya is one of the best race days of the year, so it was amazing to experience it for myself. The crowds lining the roadside were incredible, and my ears were definitely ringing afterwards.

I love the TTT (in my opinion, it’s the best discipline; I won’t hear otherwise), and the team is passionate about it and has always done well in the discipline. We’ve been working on our TTT project for quite some time, so we were pretty pumped for the first stage. We came out to Girona for a small camp a few days before the race to do some TTT prep and dial in our set-ups ahead of the big day.

We don’t have a GC rider for this race, so we didn’t need to play it conservatively on the day, and we were willing to risk it all for a result. Obviously, the stage didn’t quite go as we hoped; we definitely wanted more than 10th place, but I’m proud of the boys and how we all went for it. There will be more opportunities for us during this race, and we’ve already shown in the first week that we’re prepared to take on any chance we can.

Pogačar's dominance and thriving in the heat

It’s been tough so far for the breakaway with the GC teams like UAE Team Emirates-XRG and Visma-Lease a Bike keeping a tight grip on the race in the opening stages. We saw how they shut down the Tourmalet stage when Ben [O'Connor] had a go off the front, and that they weren’t going to let anything go. I don’t think that’s a bad thing, though.

Now that Tadej Pogačar and UAE have marked their dominance with such a big lead, I believe it could open the race up for teams like us who want to try and get out in the breakaway. I think it will open the race up a little more as we get into the second week, and particularly the back half of the race, and we’ll see more opportunities coming to us. I’m looking forward to getting stuck in and taking my chances, and so are the rest of our boys.

Of course, the heat is also going to play a factor in how the rest of the race plays out. It’s been hot right from the start, and the high temperatures have been a 'hot' topic in the bunch during the first week, with staying cool being very important. There’s been plenty of ice socks down the jersey and bidons over the head to keep the core temperature down.

I actually enjoy the heat, though, and I’ve been feeling quite good so far. We get these temperatures during the Australian summer, so maybe we Aussies are more used to it than some. For me, the hotter it is, the better when it comes to recovery compared to others, so I’m happy with this weather, and I hope it can last for a few more days. I’m hoping that if this continues into next week and a few more of the boys get tired, then it could help me. When my opportunity comes, I’ll be ready to go.

There is no doubt that Tadej Pogačar is the best cyclist in the world, if not the greatest cyclist of all time. But there is one rider in particular, a special Danish rider by the name of Jonas Vingegaard, who has beaten Pogačar twice at the Tour de France. The first time, one could argue, was a fluke. Jumbo-Visma organised a masterclass on stage 11, exposing Pogačar with their dual-leader strategy on the climb to Col du Granon. Pogačar lost nearly three minutes to Vingegaard that day, a greater deficit than he would finish behind the Dane in Paris.

Vingegaard had won the Tour de France, and in 2023, he set out to do it again. This time, the beating was even more severe. Pogačar finished seven and a half minutes behind the Dane, a result that seems unfathomable in the context of 2026. Pogačar is now leaps and bounds ahead of his rivals, it seems. No one has come close to beating the Slovenian in years.

So what was it about Jonas Vingegaard that gave him the ability to defeat Pogačar? Few riders have achieved such a feat in their entire cycling careers. Mathieu van der Poel and Wout van Aert, for example, have beaten Pogačar in races like Milan-San Remo and Paris-Roubaix. But there, the differences are obvious. Van der Poel and Van Aert have at least 10kg on Pogačar, maybe even 15kg. In races as flat as these, the raw power advantage is real.

But when it comes to Grand Tours, Pogačar and Vingegaard are much more closely matched. They are nearly the same height, yet one of the riders is much lighter than the other. In this article, we’ll dive deep into the physiologies of Tadej Pogačar and Jonas Vingegaard before discussing the potential effects this could have on the Tour de France, from the team time trial on stage 1 to Alpe d’Huez on stage 19.

Welterweight vs Lightweight

The most obvious place to begin this physiological comparison is by looking at Pogačar and Vingegaard on paper. They are listed as nearly identical in height – Pogačar is 176cm while Vingegaard is 175cm – but Pogačar is significantly heavier than the Dane.

In fact, they are in entirely different weight classes, with Vingegaard weighing 5 to 6kg less than Pogačar. But in the sport of cycling, weight is not a constant, and we have actually seen these riders change weight over the years. According to years of climbing calculations and interview quotes, it seems like Vingegaard has gained a small amount of weight since his first years as a pro, while Pogačar has lost some weight.

First, let’s look at the two-time World Champion. Teammates have said that at the beginning of his career, Tadej Pogačar ate like a normal person. He wasn’t weighing his food or measuring portions of white rice. He would eat whatever he wanted during training and racing. The end result was that he was slightly overweight, probably around 67kg. Before 2020, Pogačar was still posting his power data on Strava, and if you go back and analyse those power outputs, you’ll notice that they are quite high. Now this is obvious if you know anything about Tadej Pogačar, but when you use his old climbing times to calculate his power-to-weight ratio, it was not the most impressive.

Fast forward to 2026, and we know that Pogačar races at around 66kg in the spring and 64 to 65kg in the summer. This is entirely intentional, a way for Pogačar to gain raw power and muscle for the Spring Classics and lose that excess weight for the pure w/kg tests at the Tour de France. When Pogačar lines up for the Tour, you can see that he is very lean in his chest and upper body. Take a look at a photo from Paris-Roubaix, and you will notice the difference in upper body muscle that he was carrying.

Now let’s take a look at Jonas Vingegaard, a lightweight rider who tips the scales at some 60kg. He began his career in the high 50s, so it’s likely that Vingegaard has actually gained weight since the start of his career. That weight translates into more power output, and we can see how much the Dane has improved his punch and sprint in recent years. He’s even outsprinted Pogačar – a rider who can win a reduced bunch sprint – on multiple occasions.

Some databases list Vingegaard at 58kg, but our recent calculations suggest the Dane weighs about 60kg, if not 61kg. That means that Vingegaard is losing a significant amount of raw power to Pogačar at all times. If both riders are pushing 6w/kg, the difference is 390w for Pogačar to Vingegaard's 360w. At 7w/kg, the difference extends to 455w versus 420w.

When riding full gas on the climbs at the Tour de France, Pogačar is pushing 7% more power than Vingegaard even if their w/kg outputs are identical. Normally, you’d say that Vingegaard still has the advantage on climbs because of his power-to-weight ratio. But at the speeds they are climbing nowadays, raw power is still faster until the climb becomes steeper than 10%. Pogačar can climb up an 8% climb in the big ring, suggesting the speed isn’t low enough for his extra five kilograms to become a disadvantage.

On top of the raw power difference between Pogačar and Vingegaard, we also have to factor in the physical and mental toll of getting to race weight. For Vingegaard, the process is likely uncomplicated. He doesn't have to worry about losing weight in the lead-up to the Tour. In fact, he is probably more focused on fueling his training and recovery rather than cutting back.

In contrast, Pogačar seeks to lose weight in the lead-up to the Tour. While it isn’t a crazy amount of weight to lose (one to two kilograms in two to three months), it still can take a toll physically and mentally. Riders like Remco Evenepoel likely lose even more weight between winter and summer, something that the Belgian got right in 2024, but he hasn’t been able to recreate that consistent, world-class climbing form.

What does this all mean for the Tour de France? It means that one rider can take advantage of certain stages, while the other will have to limit their losses.

Flats, hills, mountains and time trials

With all else equal, more power on the flat means more speed on the flat. That gives Pogačar the upper hand on most terrain at the Tour de France. Until the gradient exceeds 10%, Pogačar’s raw power advantage will translate into superior speed.

While Vingegaard used to struggle more on the flats, punchy hills, and crosswind stages, the Dane seems to have improved his weaknesses significantly. In fact, Vingegaard is one of the strongest riders on the flat, despite weighing only 60kg. He has certainly improved his raw power output and aerodynamic position – remember when he was the only rider able to follow Evenepoel in the crosswinds at this year’s Volta Ciclista a Catalunya? (The stage where Evenepoel crashed on his own in the final roundabout.)

Flats and crosswinds are no longer a weakness for Vingegaard, but that doesn’t mean that Pogačar no longer has the advantage. Every stage is being raced harder and harder each year, which means a greater total workload, especially on the flats between mountains. If UAE Team Emirates-XRG is pulling the peloton through a valley at 50kph, it will take a certain amount of raw power to sit in the bunch. If that requirement is 300w, it is easy for Pogačar, an output that is at the top end of his zone 2. But 300w for Vingegaard is a higher percentage of his threshold, and a higher w/kg for the lighter Dane. When all else is equal on the flat, Vingegaard is strong enough to stay with Pogačar, but he is also working harder, accumulating more fatigue before the final climb has even begun.

When it comes to time trials, it’s difficult to pinpoint the exact reason that Pogačar is better than Vingegaard. Of course, the Slovenian has more raw power. But at 55kph, aerodynamics matter more than power, and that’s why Evenepoel is a better time trialist than Pogačar. With all due respect to the Belgian, he is not putting out more power than Pogačar in a 20km time trial. In fact, Velon CC posted some of Pogačar’s power data from the Tour de Suisse, where he won the time trial by less than a second ahead of Mathieu van der Poel. The Slovenian was pushing 450w on the time trial bike, an output of nearly 7w/kg in the aero position. I have never seen numbers like that on a TT bike.

Pogačar’s power – Stage 4 TT at the Tour de Suisse

Time: 8:46

Avg power: 450w (6.9w/kg)

Vingegaard has done some incredible time trials in the past, but he has also done a number of poor ones. This year’s Tour begins with a 20km team time trial in Barcelona, which ends on a punchy 700-metre climb. In this stage, team strength will matter more than an individual rider’s raw power output. But that will change on stage 16 when there is an individual time trial with a 9.6 kilometre climb. With an average grade of only 4.2%, Pogačar will have the advantage on the climb, as well as on the 10 km of flat before the finish. Realistically, Vingegaard will have a better chance at beating Pogačar the day before on the steep climb to Plateau de Solaison.

This is a very similar climb to the Col du Granon where Vingegaard finally took the reins from Pogačar in 2022 and left the Slovenian pedaling in squares. But a steep gradient wasn’t the only factor that day. Another was the heat.

Heat as a physiological weakness?

Hot and humid weather was once a weakness for Tadej Pogačar. Of the few times in his career when he completely cracked, nearly all of them have been in the heat. But since then, Pogačar has not shown signs of weakness in the heat. According to his coach, Javier Sola, Pogačar has been heat training consistently for the last few seasons. That seems to have solved his hot-weather performance problem.

But if there was a weakness there at one point in Pogačar’s physiology, it could still exist. Even if the chances are only 0.01%, Vingegaard will try to expose Pogačar in the heat. The Dane has always been strong in hot conditions, especially at the Tour de France. It’s difficult to say exactly where this physiological difference comes from, but the contrast is notable.

Pogačar excels in cold and rainy conditions, and he seems to have fixed his performance problems in the heat. Despite hailing from Denmark, Vingegaard excels in the heat, while also holding his own in the cold and wet. Physiologically speaking, heat adaptations are quick and easy with modern sports science. Almost every professional cyclist does heat training, especially before a summer race like the Tour. There is no doubt that both Pogačar and Vingegaard have been preparing to race in the heat, but the question is, could Pogačar’s old weakness be exposed?

Known power data

When you put all the pieces of the physiology puzzle together, you begin to form these two distinct riders. Both are incredibly strong, with world-class raw outputs as well as power-to-weight ratios. But one rider is five kilograms heavier than the other, and that means bigger power numbers.

We’ve gathered power data from Strava and Velon CC, and this is the difference between Tadej Pogačar and Jonas Vingegaard.

When Pogačar is riding full gas, he is pushing 450-470w (6.9-7.2w/kg) for an extended period of time. Keep in mind, these are the average outputs that he will do on a 30-40 minute climb. To get the winning gap, he will push 600-700w (9.2-10.8w/kg) for up to a minute to squeeze his rivals off his wheel. Rumour has it that Pogačar can push 500w for 20 minutes, a ridiculous output of 7.7w/kg. These numbers seem impossible, but when you look at the speed that Pogačar is climbing, the times that he is putting down, and the gaps between himself and the rest of the best cyclists in the world, it all adds up.

Pogačar’s Power – Stage 5 of the Tour de Suisse

Time: 9:39

Avg power: 470w (7.2w/kg)

The scary part is that, even being five kilograms lighter, I’m not sure that Vingegaard can match Pogačar’s power-to-weight ratio. The Dane can push incredible numbers, well over 400w (6.7w/kg) for an extended period, which makes him one of the world’s best climbers at 60kg. But up against Pogačar’s numbers, it’s difficult to even come close.

Vingegaard dominated this year’s Giro d’Italia, putting up some 7w/kg climbing performances, but only for the final few kilometres. Similar to the timing of Pogačar’s attack at the Tour de Suisse, you can see the difference not only in raw power but also in their w/kg.

Vingegaard's power – Stage 9 of the Giro d’Italia

Time: 7:30

Avg power: 420w (7w/kg)

Avg Gradient: 10.4%

One of the things, ironically, that could save Vingegaard at the Tour is the speed that Pogačar is riding on climbs. While a 7% grade isn’t steep enough to favour Vingegaard, it means that Pogačar will be riding at more than 25kph in the big ring. At this high speed, the drafting benefit becomes significant, and instead of matching Pogačar’s output, Vingegaard could save 30-40w in his draft. If you imagine Pogačar pushing 450w and Vingegaard pushing 400w, the physiological differences start to even out if Vingegaard is sitting in the draft.

That brings us to the final piece of the puzzle, the weapon that Pogačar has been sharpening for the past few years: a seated acceleration at over 10w/kg.

If Vingegaard is able to save that much energy in the draft, then he has a chance of staying with Pogačar. But if the Slovenian can knock Vingegaard out of his wheel and into the wind, it will be impossible for Vingegaard to close the gap because of Pogačar’s superior power output. Thus, Pogačar needed a way to get Vingegaard out of his draft. He couldn’t just attack on the steep sections of the climb because that’s where Vingegaard could match him. He couldn’t rely on a teammate’s leadout because Vingegaard was able to match his 10-second burst. But then Pogačar started accelerating in a seated position.

This kept the speed as high as possible, favouring raw power output rather than w/kg. When the speed is higher, it’s more difficult for Vingegaard to match the raw power of Pogačar. So the Slovenian worked on that seated snap, and we’ve seen time and time again that Pogačar is able to power away at 600, 700, even 800w while planted in the saddle. Vingegaard has been copying this style, as we saw at this year’s Giro d’Italia.

That is still the problem Vingegaard has yet to solve. But we’ve seen him arrive at the Tour with secret weapons that don’t come into play until halfway through the race. While you’re watching the best riders in the world this July, keep an eye on those seated accelerations and the difference in physiology between Tadej Pogačar and Jonas Vingegaard.

Some editions of the Tour de France mark the start of a new era in the sport, when a new generational talent emerges or years of dominance suddenly end. Tadej Pogačar first made his mark on the Tour de France when he snatched victory from Primoz Roglic in the La Planche des Belle Filles time trial in 2020. In 1986, Greg LeMond ended Bernard Hinault's reign and stopped him from winning a sixth Tour.

Bradley Wiggins was the first British rider to win the Tour de France in 2012, but then Chris Froome did even better in 2013, going on to win the Tour four times. Pogačar is the favourite to win this year's Tour, but there is a sense we are about to see the start of the Paul Seixas era as the 19-year-old French super talent makes his Tour debut, with his potential set to be tested this July.

In 1996, there was a similar moment in cycling history. Miguel Indurain had won five consecutive editions of the Tour but was brutally dethroned by Bjarne Riis and Jan Ullrich as Team Telekom suddenly became a super team.

In 1997, Ullrich won the Tour, inspiring a boom in German cycling, but then the Festina Affaire exploded in 1998. Marco Pantani won the yellow jersey but then was disqualified from the 1999 Giro d'Italia after failing a UCI haematocrit test. It was the peak of the EPO era. Lance Armstrong transformed into a Tour de France winner and often defeated Ullrich at the Tour before the house of cards collapsed into scandal.

Renowned cycling journalist, television interviewer, and podcaster Daniel Friebe wrote the definitive biography about Ullrich's life and career: Jan Ullrich - The best there never was.

Friebe tells the story of Ullrich's rise from his East German roots, his breakthrough ride at the 1996 Tour alongside Riis, his 1997 Tour victory, and his battles with Pantani and then Armstrong. It also delves deep into Ullrich's links to Dr Fuentes and Operación Puerto, and into his troubled post-racing life that almost ended in self-destruction, before Armstrong helped his rival get his life back together.

"The 1996 Tour was a seismic moment in the sport. We all thought Indurain was invulnerable, and to watch him crack was incredible," Friebe says as he helps Cyclingnews understand the 1996 Tour and the story behind the Team Telekom squad that won the race.

"Few people thought Riis and Telekom would be the ones to win the Tour, but by the time they reached Paris, with Riis first, Ullrich second and Zabel winning the green jersey, Telekom were a big emerging power."

The success, lack of morality and ultimately the downfall of Team Telekom was overseen by Walter Godefroot and Ullrich's mentor and sports director Rudy Pevenage. Both came from the old school of pro racing in Belgium, and both facilitated the work of the doctors and riders to keep the millions flowing from the huge German mobile communications giant.

Riis pulled on the yellow jersey in Paris in July 1996, only to confess to doping a decade later. Many of his Telekom teammates soon did the same, a confession that helped them stay in the sport, but Ullrich held onto his lie for fear of losing his Tour victory. He eventually turned his life around and, in 2023, confessed as part of his rehabilitation.

30 years on from the 1996 Tour de France, Cyclingnews investigates where the Team Telekom riders are today and how their dominance in 1996 subsequently impacted their careers and lives.

Bjarne Riis

Bjarne Riis had already raced for 10 years and was 31 when he joined Telekom for the 1996 season. He had finished third in the 1995 Tour while with Gewiss-Ballan and was determined to complete his transformation from domestique to Grand Tour winner.

Friebe captured Riis' sense of ambition in his book, but also the doubts of his new teammates. "During the pre-season team presentation, Riis told the media: 'I'm going to win the Tour.' The other riders heard from an adjacent room and all burst out laughing," Friebe tells Cyclingnews.

"Riis' self-belief became a running joke on the team in 1996, but he proved to be right."

Indurain's demise in 1996 was a surprise, but it began on stage 7 to Arc 1800. Then Riis famously dropped everyone on stage 16 to Hautacam after slowing to look his rivals in the eye before powering away in a huge gear. Ullrich pulled back two minutes on Riis in the final Bordeaux time trial and finished 1:41 behind in Paris. He was a loyal teammate, and his Tour victory would come in 1997.

11 years later, Riis confessed to doping after revelations by soigneur Jef D'Hont and an investigation into the work of the team doctors who were part of the Sports Medicine Department of the Freiburg University Clinic.

There were calls for Riis to hand back his yellow jersey, but due to the 10-year statute of limitations, he could not be formally suspended, nor could his victory be cancelled from the record books. Riis showed some remorse but was allowed to stay in the sport.

He became the manager and driving force of Team CSC and then Saxo Bank-Tinkov for a decade, trying to take on Armstrong with Ivan Basso and Tyler Hamilton. He was accused of knowing that his riders doped and of doing little to stop them, but he worked with teams until 2020.

In recent years, Riis has become a television and media pundit in Denmark. As a team manager, he was known for his long silences and scowls during interviews but is now frequently in the headlines for his bold comments about Jonas Vingegaard and pro cycling.

Rolf Aldag

Aldag was a long-time domestique and core member of Team Telekom, racing for the team between 1993 and 2005. He was part of the 1996 and 1997 Tour-winning teams and doped like many of his teammates, but confessed and apologised in 2007.

When Bob Stapleton took over as team manager and tried to clean up the team, he wanted Aldag as a sports director and rider mentor. Aldag's character and experience meant he played a key role in Mark Cavendish's early years with the team.

"We drew a line and said, this is the past, and we draw the line here and make sure this never happens on this team," Aldag told Cyclingnews in 2008.

Aldag left the sport in 2011 when the team folded, but returned in 2015 and linked up with Cavendish once again as the Performance Manager at MTN-Qhubeka. He rose to become Chief of Sports at Bora-Hansgrohe but was replaced in 2025 after Red Bull came on board. He is now the Director of Sport for the women's Canyon-SRAM team and is based in South Africa when not at races or team camps. Aldag will commentate on the 2026 Tour de France for Eurosport Germany.

Udo Bölts

Udo Bölts was one of the hard men of 1990s German cycling and rode for Telekom between 1991 and 2002. He famously finished 12 consecutive editions of the Tour between 1992 and 2003.

During the 1997 Tour, Bölts famously shouted "Torture yourself, you pig!" at Ullrich as he suffered under the pressure of Richard Virenque's Festina team's pace-setting. Bölts helped save Ullrich's Tour victory, and the phrase became a sporting aphorism. Bölts even copyrighted the phrase and still uses it today to sell merchandise.

True to character, Bölts still rides a lot, mixing mountain biking with gravel and working as a guide at the Pfälzerwald Mountain Bike Park in western Germany. He has won Masters titles at the Cape Epic mountain bike stage race and UCI Gravel World Series events, and was third at the 2025 Masters Gravel World Championships.

Christian Henn

Henn turned professional with the legendary Italian Carrera Jeans team in 1989 after winning a bronze medal in the road race at the Seoul Olympic Games. He raced for Telekom between 1992 and 1999.

He retired after testing positive for testosterone but still found a place in the sport, working as a sports director for the equally troubled Gerolsteiner team that exploded in 2008 after several team leaders tested positive for the second-generation EPO variant CERA.

Henn was a sports director with the German Lotto-Kern Haus Continental team until 2021 but is now semi-retired.

Jens Heppner

Like Ullrich, Heppner came through the East German school of cycling and turned professional with Panasonic-Sportlife in 1991, two years after the fall of the Berlin Wall. He raced for Telekom for a decade, often sharing a room with Ullrich at major races.

He worked as a sports director for Team Wiesenhof after retiring in 2005. While many of his former Telekom teammates confessed to doping in 2007, Heppner continues to deny he doped, perhaps because of Heppner's close links to Ullrich.

However, in 2013, he was one of 18 riders named in a French Senate report that linked their 1998 samples to EPO in retrospective tests. The UCI said those results could not be used for disciplinary action. Heppner, who has never admitted doping, left his role at Team NetApp shortly afterwards and never returned to professional cycling. He now occasionally works as a cycling guide in Mallorca and South Africa.

Brian Holm

Holm was the chatty Dane amongst the more reserved German riders at Telekom. He was a friend of Riis but impressed Belgian team manager Walter Godefroot, securing his place at Telekom thanks to his results with the Roland and Histor teams.

Holm was a kind of bridge between Riis and the German core at Telekom, his sense of fun helping to lift the mood during the fatigue of the 1996 Tour. He retired in 1998 and so avoided the first doping scandals. He confessed to taking EPO at Telekom in 2007 when the Freiburg investigation exposed the true depth of Telekom's doping.

Ironically, he returned to Telekom as a sports director in 2003, shocked at Ullrich's lack of love for racing in the final years of his career. Holm soon bonded with Mark Cavendish and stayed with the Manxman for long spells of his career.

Holm was diagnosed with colon cancer in 2004 and was elected as a right-wing councillor for the wealthy Frederiksberg municipal council in Copenhagen, but worked as a sports director for QuickStep until 2022.

He is now a race analyst for Eurosport in Denmark and was in Italy to witness Jonas Vingegaard's victory at the Giro d'Italia.

Mario Kummer

Kummer was the veteran of the 1996 Telekom team, turning professional with Chateau d'Ax in Italy after winning the gold medal in the team time trial at the 1988 Seoul Olympics with East Germany.

Kummer only survived two stages of the 1996 Tour after crashing on stage 1 and fracturing his collarbone. His early loss highlighted how Telekom dominated the Tour even with just eight riders.

Kummer retired in 1997 but would work with Telekom as sports director until 2005. He joined Astana in 2007, but unlike several former teammates, he did not confess during the 2007 revelations. Kummer then worked for SRM and Uvex after he left pro cycling and now runs a holiday and coaching business, often staying at the same Robinson-Club Cala Serena holiday resort in Mallorca, where Telekom gathered for their winter training camps.

Erik Zabel

Zabel's sprint success in the 1995 Tour convinced Telekom to invest massively in pro cycling, leading to the success of 1996, Jan Ullrich's career and the eventual doping scandals and investigations that still cast a shadow over the sport in Germany.

Zabel famously won Milan-San Remo four times, 12 stages at the Tour and six green points jerseys between 1996 and 2001. He was forced to confess to doping in 2007 but claimed that he only took EPO once in 1996. Zabel raced until 2008, ending his long career with Team Milram. His son Rick would also become a pro rider.

Zabel was a sprint coach with several teams but was dismissed by Katusha and the Canyon brand after eventually making a much fuller doping confession in 2013, admitting to foul play between 1996 and 2003.

The German has been Canyon's Pro Sport Manager since 2017, acting as a conduit between the bike brand and its partner teams.

He arguably benefited from what could be called the Armstrong paradox. The Texan doped and was banned for life, but is still disliked and considered 'persona non grata' in the sport because of the way he bullied his rivals, the media and sponsors. Zabel is the opposite. He confessed a little, kept quiet, stayed friendly and kept a role in the sport.

Jan Ullrich

Jan Ullrich, like most of his Telekom teammates, eventually confessed to doping after going through a rollercoaster career that included taking EPO for the first time in 1996, helping Riis win the Tour and then winning himself in 1997.

Ullrich suffered and doped in silence as he battled with Lance Armstrong, the Texan's dominance and personal issues stopping Ullrich from ever winning another Tour de France. His struggles against Armstrong, with weight and his personal life, somehow made Ullrich relatable to millions of Germans and cycling fans around the world.

"He comes across as a kind of likeable guy. He's no Einstein, and he doesn't profess to be. He's a kind of simple guy, and that helps to endear him to people," Friebe tells Cyclingnews.

"There was forgiveness, and there could have been sympathy because he was seen as a pawn in a bigger game. He was this kid who was thrust into the East German system and then into a German cycling craze. I personally felt sympathetic towards him too while writing my book."

Ullrich is now 52 and has gone through some incredible highs and lows in his life.

Friebe spent almost a decade researching and writing his book on the man from Rostock. Ullrich was a talented East German teenager who won the amateur world title in Oslo in 1993, the same year that Armstrong surprisingly won the elite world title. He confirmed his talents by loyally helping Riis win the 1996 Tour and then dominated himself in 1997, beating Richard Virenque by over nine minutes.

He lost to Pantani in 1998 after suffering in the cold and rain on the stage over the Galibier to Les Deux Alpes. Then Armstrong came along, and not even a blood doping programme created by Eufemiano Fuentes could help Ullrich defeat the Texan. A gold medal in the road race at the 2000 Sydney Olympics ahead of Telekom teammates Andreas Klöden and Alexander Vinokourov was of little consolation.

Armstrong retired in 2005, but Ullrich raced on until the Operación Puerto scandal exploded in the summer of 2006. He was named and shamed before being stopped from riding the Tour de France on the eve of the race in Strasbourg and then sacked by T-Mobile. His DNA was later used to confirm that blood bags stored in Fuentes' fridge were for 'Hijo Rudicio - Son of Rudi'. Ullrich's code name was linked to his sports director and mentor, Rudi Pevenage.

Despite all the evidence, Ullrich went into denial, even when the Court of Arbitration for Sport found him guilty and retroactively banned him for two years and cancelled his results from May 2005 until his retirement in February 2007.

"I sat in the car driving home from Strasbourg thinking: That was it. It is all over. And it was. I was right. For the next four years, I sat in my house and looked out of the window," Ullrich told Rouleur years later.

A move to Mallorca with his wife Sara proved disastrous, and she soon left with their children. Ullrich lost control of his life due to alcohol and drugs, and in 2018, he was treated in a psychiatric hospital unit. Fortunately, Armstrong felt compelled to make an intervention to help his former rival and flew to Germany.

"I had big problems, and then you came to see me. I was so glad you came, and yes, I was just like Marco Pantani… nearly dead,” Ullrich admitted a few years later in one of Armstrong's podcasts, after a slow process to get his life back on track.

That journey to redemption included a full confession, and Ullrich eventually came clean in 2023.

"If I had told my story, I would have had many wonderful years. But I didn't have the courage. Now it feels good to admit my guilt," he told the German media.

Ullrich still believes he deserves to be considered the 1997 Tour de France winner, despite confessing to doping. Armstrong lost his seven Tour victories because of the so-called 'fraudulent concealment' and because his 2009–2010 comeback reset the clock.

"I know what I have achieved. Personally, I think I deserve the title. Others have to decide that. But in my heart I am a Tour de France winner,” Ullrich said.

A return to riding his bike helped Ullrich get his life back on track, and he is now a popular figure in Germany.

He has 460,000 followers on Instagram, a new podcast with Rick Zabel and is the star of an annual Jan Ullrich Cycling Festival. His agent and PR people offer him as a corporate speaker, claiming he "stands for attitude, honesty, and the strength to get back up after setbacks." His doping is rarely mentioned, while he is still considered the only German Tour de France winner.

"I've been surprised since he has come clean how quickly public opinion has flipped," Friebe, who is based in Berlin, told Cyclingnews.

"I think time is the biggest healer. Until 2022, there was a sort of tension between Ullrich and the German public and German media. Everyone was desperate for him to confess, and until he confessed, he wasn't going to be allowed back into public life. Now he is."

Hello again everyone!

When my coach informed me, after my performance at the Tour of Romandie, that instead of racing the Tour de Suisse I would go to the Dauphiné… my bad, the Tour Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes (or TARA, as I will call it for the rest of this piece), I was initially quite apprehensive.

Although I had just earned my first WorldTour top 10 GC result, finishing sixth in Romandie, I felt like it was a potential step too far, due to the fact that the race is widely known amongst the pros for how hard it is, actually harder than a week of a Grand Tour.

My coach brushed it off and said back to me, "Well, you shouldn't have done so well at Romandie!" I couldn't really disagree with that, so I now had three weeks until the Tour de France preparation race, and not in my wildest dreams could I have expected what occurred.

But before I talk about my memorable week in France, I want to bring you back to the weeks prior to the race. My girlfriend is from Denmark, and due to the extremely busy few months prior for both of us, we hadn't seen each other for over two months. I pre-planned going to Denmark to see her many weeks before I knew I was doing TARA, so two weeks out I went and visited her for 10 days.

What struck me was that practically 80% of the peloton that was racing TARA was at altitude during this period, the majority of them in Sierra Nevada. Even my own teammates that were racing as well were up on a mountain breathing thin air, and there I was at sea level, at my girlfriend's house, riding around the rolling Danish hills around Vejle. I should mention the longest hill is about three minutes, so not ideal for mountain training. Yet, the most important factor for me during this period was the mental benefit of being around my loved ones. I still did my training; I still did a few active heat sessions, but the main point was that I wasn't feeling lonely and exhausted on top of a mountain.

My time in Denmark wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, though. While I felt extremely good on the bike doing my long endurance rides, I was really struggling to complete any form of harder VO2 efforts. I felt as if I couldn't push my body to its limit. I felt as if my head would just give up from the pain of the efforts.

I've experienced this a few times this year, especially after the passing of my younger sister in September last year. Some days I can wake up feeling completely 'normal', eat my breakfast, roll out for my ride feeling fine, but as soon as I start my efforts, I have no motivation. I felt emotional and weak. This happened one day while doing a hard VO2 session. I got roughly five minutes into my first set, and my body just gave up. I had a bit of an emotional moment on the side of the road as I felt sorry for myself, questioning why this was happening, and stressed over the fact I was racing TARA in a week's time. I spent the rest of the day feeling miserable on the couch, being comforted by my girlfriend.

Over the next few days, I slowly felt more like myself again, and together with my coach, modified my training depending on how I felt each morning and the mental state I was in.

'I went to the race excited for the week ahead with a smile on my face'

I won't lie to you, I was now feeling even more nervous about TARA after being mentally unable to finish any efforts for the last week, but I said to my coach I still wanted to race because it was something else for my brain to focus on, and my body still felt in good condition post-Romandie.

What is great about the systems that are in place at Red Bull-Bora-Hansgrohe is that information about the athlete is shared with all individuals working with the rider. So even though I only explicitly told my coach about how my head was feeling and the struggles I was going through during this week, that information was shared with my personal directeur sportif, my nutritionist, my doctor, and the wider coaching group.

I spent two days in Girona, my old European home, between travelling back from Denmark and going to TARA. My DS, Shane Archbold, a retired former professional who was in the Bora team for many years prior to the arrival of Red Bull, also happened to be in Girona over the same period. He asked if I'd like to join him for a ride before I left again, and the conversation that we had on this ride completely changed my outlook for the week ahead.

I hadn't seen Shane for a while. The only race we had done together this year was Tour Down Under, and he had just returned from the Giro. On this ride, Shane put it simply to me. I had already exceeded expectations this year, both from a personal standpoint and from a team standpoint. My performances at Catalunya and Basque Country delighted the team, and a sixth place in Romandie was the cherry on top of that that no one was expecting. Already to finish in the top 10 on GC as a neo-pro in a WorldTour stage race was a massive achievement. I could have ended my season there and been more than satisfied with my year.

So, Shane told me to go to TARA with a free mind. There was no pressure from the team; the only pressure I had was the pressure I was putting on myself. He said to go and have fun, race with a smile on my face, find my physical limits. He said to try something crazy, and if something crazy happens, that's amazing, but if you blow up and finish twenty minutes behind the winner, that's also great. He also told me to race with my sister on my shoulder, and use the thoughts of her as motivation to get the most out of myself.

This one-hour conversation I had with Shane completely changed my feelings. I suddenly wasn't nervous anymore; I didn't feel stressed, and the emotional feelings I had floating around for the last few days evaporated. I went to the race excited for the week ahead with a smile on my face, in a clear mental space, and with no pressure. I felt free.

As I mentioned, Shane said to try something crazy, and if something crazy happens, that's amazing. And well, we tried something crazy and something crazy did happen.

The day that changed everything

I think by the middle of the race, the majority of people thought they knew how the race was going to pan out. A great victory on the first day by EF's Alex Baudin put a Frenchman into the maillot jaune on day one. The TTT confirmed that the superstar riders were ready to battle it out in the mountains. Everyone was talking about the inevitable Paul Seixas vs Isaac del Toro showdown that was going to happen sooner rather than later, but stage 6 of TARA flipped the script.

As a team, we had highlighted this stage as a seriously good chance for Maxim Van Gils to win the stage from the breakaway, so he deliberately lost time on GC two days earlier in order to go up the road without any other teams panicking. What we didn't expect was a sixty-man breakaway, half of the peloton, to be riding away from the main peloton. What we also as a team didn't expect was for me to be in that group only 1:03 down on GC. But I saw from the front of the peloton a few extra Uno-X riders bridging to the breakaway and remembered what they did on the final day of Basque Country this year.

For those who don't know, here is a brief explanation: Uno-X put their entire team into the breakaway with Tobias Halland Johannessen and rode him into third on GC. I instantly thought this was my chance to make a move for my own GC result.

And so the chaos began. I could probably write an extra two thousand words about how the stage went, but I won't let you suffer through that, so here is the short version. The breakaway instantly started working together, and the time gap kept increasing and increasing. Maxim and I were staying together in the group, and we were both feeling good. We came to the first of two final climbs, and the group immediately shrank in size, and we had a ridiculous 4:55 on the chasing peloton. I knew by this point that, all going well, I would be in yellow at the end of the stage, but in my head the priority was to win the stage. So that's what we set about doing.

On the final ascent to Crest-Voland, Maxim reduced the group to three; I bridged across myself a few minutes later to make it four and immediately started setting a hard tempo to set Maxim up for a sprint. We rounded the final bend with three hundred metres to go, and Maxim and Tobias duked it out for the stage win, and I emptied myself to the line to have as much time as possible on the group of GC riders behind, flying up the mountain.

Firstly, the joy that came over me seeing Maxim with his hands in the air taking the stage win actually made me forget for a moment about what I had achieved, but as I rolled across the line and towards my soigneurs it quickly sunk in that I was in yellow. To be honest, I only thought Seixas and Del Toro were probably only a minute behind us, but one minute became two, and two became three, and 3:15 after I finished they came across the line.

In short, I could not believe it. I was in yellow at the biggest one-week stage race in the world, as a neo-pro, with two days left and a three-minute advantage. This already felt like a win for me. Compared to how I was feeling on the side of the road in Denmark crying because I couldn't understand why I was unable to complete my efforts, to a week later standing on the podium in yellow with my first iconic lion, it was amazing. I genuinely couldn't stop smiling, and together with Maxim, we watched each other up on the podium and enjoyed the success together.

This is where I've been told I announced myself to the cycling world. I went from a relatively unknown rider to suddenly having a real possibility of winning TARA. But I wasn't too concerned about what would happen. The position I was in I could have never imagined. I felt like I had won already. I felt no pressure for the last two stages of the race. All I knew was that I would give my absolute all to try and end with the best result possible, and as long as I did that, I could be proud of myself.

I feel I don't have to give a play-by-play recount of the final two days because I am going to assume most people reading this article also roughly know what happened on those final days. I fought my heart out to keep the jersey on Grand Colombier and only had an advantage of 42 seconds over Matteo Jorgenson, and the following day I suffered like a pig up the Plateau du Solaison and somehow managed to hold onto second on GC.

This was a career-defining result. The result does change my trajectory within professional cycling. It shapes the rider I hope to eventually turn into, and my name is now more widely known. I have the memories of spending two days in the maillot jaune, and they will stay with me for the rest of my life. As I am writing this article two weeks after the race, I've had enough time to reflect on the week and the result I achieved. I am incredibly proud of myself.

But my biggest takeaway upon reflecting was the realisation of how a positive, free, and relaxed mental headspace coming into a race is equally as important as the physical shape you arrive with. A part of me wonders if this side of the sport is often overlooked in pursuit of the smallest possible gains in order to be in better form than our rivals. I wonder if there is some sort of magic in this, enjoying time at home with loved ones, recovering well from racing, not destroying yourself everyday in training, and appreciating the ups and downs of life. It also feels weird for me to comment on this after only being in the WorldTour for six months, and it's something I will continue to think about, but what I can say for sure is that a free mind equals fast legs.

See you soon,

Luke

"Secrets are poison. They suck the life out of you." Tyler Hamilton.

"I viewed this situation as one big lie that I repeated a lot of times." Lance Armstrong.

"This place has been my home. They liked me here. Not anymore. Now they will look the other way. Now I don't belong." David Millar.

Is doping worth it? To live everyday looking over your shoulder? To enhance performance but diminish character? Cheating equals high anxiety and, of course, little sympathy. The stress-free solution? Don't dope. It's simple. Or is it?

These days, the advanced anti-doping and testing system means athletes face 'strict liability' for every single substance they consume, vigilance so high that they can't even buy vitamin C at a pharmacy, and surveillance that requires them to provide their location at a specific time every single day.

Is adhering to an anti-doping system that monitors you every day of the year, where you're guilty until proven innocent, in need of reform for athlete sanity? Cyclingnews investigated the system, the rules, and the mental impact they have on riders who are just trying to stay clean, and prove it.

The contamination issue

Michael Woods enjoyed a stellar 13-year professional career, primarily for Cannondale (now EF Education-EasyPost) and Israel-PremierTech (now NSN Cycling Team). He won four Grand Tour stages – one at the Tour de France, three at the Vuelta a España– and the prestigious one-day race, Milan-Torino. Woods retired from the WorldTour at the end of 2025 but, like many modern-day pros, he soon swapped road for gravel. When we caught up, he'd just 'won' the Canadian gravel national championships. Possibly. Extreme heat led to the event being cancelled while riders were still out on the course, meaning Woods' result was in doubt. Unlike his stance on cheats.

"I'll start off by saying that dopers ruin the sport for all of us," he says. "I'm all for clean sport and forged a career from clean sport. But the anti-doping system, while a necessary burden, is a massive burden. It's a huge stress. During my entire career, I guarantee that I never intentionally took a performance-enhancing substance. But I couldn't guarantee that I wouldn't have tested positive for one."

That's not an admission of guilt or Machiavellian Armstrong wordplay – "I've been tested 500 times and I've never failed a drug test" – but an honest appraisal of a system that can end careers if an athlete's urine or blood sample shows traces of one of more than 400 prohibited substances.

According to WADA's (World Anti-Doping Agency) Athletes' Anti-Doping Rights Act, 'strict liability' means that the athlete is solely responsible for any "any banned substance you use, attempt to use or is found in your system, regardless of how it got there or whether there was any intention to cheat". In anti-doping, not knowing isn't an excuse. You must live pure in an impure world.

"Unless you live on a farm, isolated from the rest of the world, growing your own food and ensuring no-one touches it, can you guarantee that something isn't contaminated?" says Woods. "Whenever I took a drugs test, that played on my mind. It's stressful and it's the same throughout the peloton.

"One of the biggest stressors is that you're guilty unless you can prove your innocence. And even if you prove how you ended up consuming contaminated food, by virtue of how the media handles the story and how the sport deals with you, you're tainted. I have friends who tested positive but discovered the source of contamination and were exonerated. But the damage to their finances and reputations was irreparable.

"They're especially damning in Canada. I'm proud of the fact that our country is vehemently for anti-doping, but it means any positive test results in you being crucified. Arguably, this goes back to Ben Johnson and what happened in South Korea. We were burnt and embarrassed on an international scale."

For our younger readers, the muscular Johnson won the 100m men's race at the 1988 Seoul Olympics in a new world record, before ignominiously leaving the Games and being stripped of gold after testing positive for the steroid stanozolol. It was arguably the biggest story in Olympic history. A piece of graffiti in the Olympic village encapsulated the drama: "Hero to zero in 9.79 secs."

Hormone-fuelled food system

Johnson confessed to doping. Many banned athletes don't, blaming their positive test on contamination. In the monochrome world of doping, it's seen as a convenient excuse. But the evidence suggests many grey areas.

Take the steroid trenbolone, used in the American food industry to boost the efficiency and yield of meat production. It's legal in the USA. But trenbolone is on WADA's prohibited list. Maximum residue figures are set for how much trenbolone commonly remains in a slaughtered animal from farm to fork for anti-doping purposes. Several assumptions are made that impact these residue figures, including point of administration. Trenbolone is mixed into a compressed pellet and injected into the back of the cattle's ear. The steroid then dissolves into the bloodstream. After around 200 days, the animals are 'harvested', whereby the ears are removed to prevent potential contamination.

If the farmer follows standard practice and an athlete records an anti-doping violation, the contaminated meat excuse is flimsy. But not, many a defendant has argued, if the pellet was misplaced and entered muscles from which rib-eye and loin steaks are cut. Or oxtail. That was the defence of runner Erriyon Knighton, who tested positive for trenbolone in March 2024. An independent arbitrator initially cleared him after accepting that contaminated meat likely caused the result, allowing him to compete at the Paris Olympics where the American finished fourth in the 200m. However, the Court of Arbitration for Sport later ruled the contamination evidence was insufficient and imposed a four-year ban. Knighton continues to protest his innocence.

Clenbuterol is another WADA-prohibited substance used to increase meat yields, albeit it's banned around the world because residues are high enough to cause health issues. Despite that, there's a huge black market in many Latin American and South-east Asian countries.

Alberto Contador was handed a two-year ban and stripped of his 2010 Tour de France victory after testing positive for clenbuterol. The Spaniard's contamination defence – that it was down to eating meat brought across the border from Spain to Pau on the rest day – didn't hold up because the illegal clenbuterol farming practices are rare in Spain, despite Contador passing a lie detector test.

(As an aside, for my new book Dope I interviewed Morten Hostrup, associate professor of physiology at the University of Copenhagen, who'd recently undertaken human studies on clenbuterol. Hostrup told me it's great for muscle building but actually impairs endurance performance because it 'suppresses mitochondrial function' in the muscle. "It's one reason why the current regulations would have accepted Contador's explanation," he told me. "He wouldn't have been suspended.")

In short, contamination is a very real stressor for professional athletes. "I raced the Vuelta a Mexico [which last took place in 2015 but is scheduled for a return in 2027] and the Tour of Qinghai Lake in China and basically you eat rice and eggs," says Woods. "You have to be hyper-vigilant and it's an extra stressor."

Supplementary pressures

It's the same with supplements. According to a 2025 survey by Sport Integrity Australia, one in three sport supplements – around 35 per cent of 200 samples – bought online contained at least one substance prohibited by WADA. Why is down to two reasons: accidental (the equipment wasn't cleaned thoroughly) and intentional (the manufacturer purposely added a prohibited performance-enhancer to crank up its effectiveness and have the athlete coming back for more).

WADA recommends athletes take supplements that are third-party tested. These products will feature the testing company's respective logos, and include NSF Certified for Sport, Informed Choice and Informed Sport.

"You couldn't take anything not approved by the team," says Woods. "It makes sense, but if you're feeling under the weather and want to buy vitamin C, you can't go to the pharmacy and be an adult. You have to report to mom and dad and ask if it's OK. It's for the right reasons, but it becomes crazy. You lose any autonomy and it's something you're constantly thinking about."

"When I first started competing, I was proud of making sure I was doing everything right," Woods adds. "Come the end of my road career, I'd been on some form of anti-doping programme for nearly 15 years. After all that time, you start to think, ‘Fuck this. I am so over it!'"

Or I'm not just over this, but I'm over life, in the case of former British cyclist Lizzy Banks, whose contamination case left her battling suicidal thoughts. In July 2023, Banks tested positive for traces of the banned diuretic chlortalidone. April 2024, UK Anti-Doping (UKAD) cleared Banks, accepting that contamination likely stemmed from a tablet she took for asthma. June 2024, WADA appealed her case to the Court of Arbitration for Sport, ruling that she'd failed to prove the source of the contamination despite overwhelming scientific and contextual evidence and so banned her for two years.

"This case demonstrates the high bar set by the application of the 'strict liability' principle," UKAD pronounced, "and the challenges in identifying and establishing unintentional violations."

The 'will they, won't they?' sanction left Banks in turmoil.

"I'm not sure yet whether I regret having carried on the fight," she wrote at the time. "I'm so empty right now that I barely know what I feel anymore. But this is what they do to people like me. They crush us. They expect that we will just walk away and they will never have any consequences. But there must be consequences."

Banks proposed a series of anti-doping changes to protect athlete welfare including easing the burden of proof – that athletes shouldn't be required to provide the exact source of contamination when strong scientific evidence shows the substance level is incompatible with intentional use. She sees the current system as creating prolonged uncertainty and psychological harm.

Whereabouts is the welfare?

As do a dozen professional tennis players, including Nick Kyrgios, who in January 2025 filed a legal case against tennis federations and the International Tennis Integrity Agency (ITIA) for a complete disregard of athlete well-being when enforcing anti-doping policing.

The case came off the back of doping allegations against the men's world number one, Jannik Sinner, who twice tested positive for the banned steroid clostebol. WADA accepted the Italian's story that he didn't cheat and exposure came via his fitness coach's massage cream. Both parties agreed to a three-month ban that some felt conveniently expired before the second Major of the year, the French Open. The civil class-action cited his preferential treatment due to potential financial implications and access to superior legal representation.

A team of academics – including Alex Smith, senior researcher at Bern University in Switzerland – examined the complaint in a paper entitled, 'Coercive compliance? Anti-doping systems in tennis and athlete mental health.' It's a fascinating read and draws attention to the need for fairness when enforcing anti-doping policy.

"The focus of most anti-doping bodies remains firmly on detection and deterrence, which is understandable, but the inadvertent psychological implications of compliance sits largely outside that frame," co-author Smith tells us. "Research has documented what some call ‘clean anxiety' among athletes, which is a persistent fear of inadvertent rule violations and the reputational damage that would follow.

"For younger athletes who are still developing, that could be particularly problematic. They're trying to establish themselves in elite sport, managing uncertain incomes, unpredictable travel, sometimes young families, and on top of all that they carry this background fear of making an administrative error that carries the same punishment as failing a drugs test."

For administrative error, read the Whereabouts system. This is a requirement in any sport signed up to the WADA Code and allows anti-doping authorities to conduct unannounced drug tests on athletes between 6am and 11pm (and, in some cases like targeted testing, also between 11pm and 6am) on any day of the year. Athletes must update their ADAMS (Anti-Doping Administration Management System) to give a specific 60-minute time slot each day when they guarantee they'll be available for testing. You can update it any time before that 60-minute time slot begins. If you miss three tests within a 12-month period, you're banned.

"Athletes have described the constant need to remain organised, available and compliant, particularly during periods of travel, family commitments, illness or other major life stressors," says Smith. "The concern is often less about being monitored and more about the possibility of making an administrative mistake that could carry significant professional consequences. In that respect, the psychological burden may be less visible than other stressors in elite sport, but it does remain present in the background of athletes' lives."

Smith stresses that the integrity of anti-doping testing is vitally important and out-of-competition testing is an effective tool. "However, athletes are required to disclose their whereabouts around the clock, submit to surprise testing and provide highly sensitive health data, including biometric identifiers and medical information," he says. "Nowhere else in a democratic society would we accept that level of surveillance as a condition of employment."

That's the academic viewpoint. What about the athletic one? "Of course, out-of-competition testing and monitoring is important," says Woods. "Dick Pound [former president of WADA] had a great saying that if you fail in competition, you've failed two tests: the doping control test and the IQ test!

"So, things like the Whereabouts system are useful but I'd actually have preferred a tracking device, especially in the off-season when you're looking to switch off from cycling mode. That's when your plans tend to change. You might head to your mate's for a couple of drinks and the last thing you're thinking of is logging into your phone to change the address on ADAMS. You then awake the next morning and panic that if the doping officer visited, you've messed up.

"Thankfully, I was pretty diligent and only had one out-of-competition miss, which I contested because the tester made fundamental errors and it was removed. The area – Andorra, where I was living – was unfamiliar to them and they went to the wrong building. But it was stressful."

Woods says he has friends who missed three tests in the 12-month period but fought the last one and won. "And I know others who missed three and were banned."

Nighttime testing

Between Whereabouts and in-competition testing, riders have to be available for testing every day of the year, but the extent of that availability was tested at this year's Tour de France when the two top-ranked riders, Tadej Pogačar and Jonas Vingegaard, both faced tests in the middle of the night.

In theory, in-competition testing should only happen between the hours of 6am and 11pm, and the UCI rules state that out-of-hours testing will only be carried out based on "serious and specific suspicion."

"The UCI may require any Rider over whom it has Testing authority, who has not retired, including Riders serving a period of Ineligibility, to provide a Sample at any time and at any place," article 5.2 reads, before going on to outline the limits of 'at any time and at any place.'

"Unless the rider has identified a sixty minute testing window between the hours of 11:00 p.m. and 6:00 a.m., or has otherwise consented to testing during that period, the UCI will not test a rider during that period unless it has a serious and specific suspicion that the Rider may be engaged in doping."

It is the International Testing Authority (ITA) that actually carries out the testing, on behalf of the UCI, and UCI rules state that "Any testing during the Event Period outside the Event Venues shall be coordinated with the UCI", suggesting the governing body approved the nighttime tests of cycling's two major Grand Tour stars.

In a statement released during the Tour, the ITA did not reference any "serious and specific suspicion" in their justification for the nighttime tests.

"The ITA is conscious that night-time testing may be disruptive to riders' rest and recovery. Due consideration has therefore been given to minimise as much as possible the impact testing activities have on riders," the statement read.

"However, the ITA, on behalf of the UCI, has the responsibility to ensure the effectiveness of the cycling anti-doping program and the integrity of cycling races. As such, effective testing must, in limited and justified circumstances, be capable to occur outside standard daytime hours.

"All testing activities conducted at the Tour de France and at any other international events, including decisions as to the specific timing of such tests, are carried out in accordance with the ITA’s testing strategy and subject to the safeguards established under the World Anti-Doping Code, the UCI Anti-Doping Rules and French law, with due consideration for riders’ welfare, equity and fundamental rights."

But despite the ITA's assertion that due care was taken, the riders involved, and indeed their riders, had mixed views about what happened. Given how much time and information riders give up to testers between Whereabouts and in-competition testing – especially the race leader, who is tested every day – there was criticism about disrupting their sleep - the night before a big stage - for further testing.

Tadej Pogačar said that the 2am wake up may have contributed to the crash that took Vingegaard out of the race only a few hours later, but added: "It's a little bit strange, but I accept it if this is necessary to prove that we are riding clean, then I totally accept it. I commit to it."

Remco Evenepoel was less diplomatic, saying: "It's pretty disrespectful. To be honest, if I had it, I would send my team to wake them up to feel how it is. It's something inhuman, it's something that we should not accept as athletes."

The flipside of the argument, however, is that if riders and teams know there are certain hours where they won't be tested, or expect not to be tested, they could be employing microdosing techniques or using substances with short half-lives to avoid positive tests, and the ITA's nighttime visits seek to make that more difficult.

Punished for neurology

Further pressure arises from the therapeutic usage exemption (TUE) system, which allows prohibited substances to be used for medical reasons. It's supposed to be performance-enabling rather than enhancing, though is perceived to be widely abused.

"The burden arises from the additional documentation and evidentiary requirements imposed by the anti-doping framework," says Smith. "For conditions such as attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), it's a challenge. Many cyclists take medication for ADHD, which is on the prohibited list, but the process of sorting a TUE is extremely involved. That's not great for a disorder associated with forgetfulness and disorganisation. You're almost punishing someone for having the disorder, which means many might not bother taking the medication to avoid form-filling. If you're in the middle of a peloton and you've got a disorder that's linked to hyperactivity and impulsivity, that has clear implications for you and your fellow riders."

"That's me," says Woods. "I've never been officially diagnosed but I was almost held back a grade and repeatedly told I had 'attention issues'. If I was younger, I'm confident I'd have been diagnosed with ADHD at school. Keeping on top of these forms and apps is a real issue and can kill careers. Miss tests and teams won't sign you. Sponsors won't sponsor you. You can't race."

Smith says British Cycling has delivered TUE courses specifically aimed at riders with ADHD, but suggests all levels of elite athletes should be better supported, as they can face considerable costs simply to demonstrate eligibility for a treatment that's medically needed. More broadly, he says that greater focus must centre on the daily strain of adhering to anti-doping policy.

"The argument is always that athletes consent to it, but that consent is functionally coerced," he says. "An athlete who refuses compliance faces immediate exclusion from international competition. The balance shifts when you build genuine welfare support into the framework. Right now, the obligations are clearly defined and the consequences of failure are clearly defined, but the psychological support available to athletes navigating that system remains largely absent. We believe that you can uphold rigorous testing and provide mental health resources."

"We'd suggest introducing mandatory welfare assessments as part of the anti-doping relationship as standard practice for any athlete in a registered testing pool," Smith continues. "Right now, the system is entirely focussed on compliance. There's no touchpoint where anyone asks how an athlete is actually doing. A welfare check-in, delivered through the existing infrastructure, would catch athletes who are struggling before they reach crisis point, and it would send a signal that anti-doping organisations view athletes as people with lives and health needs rather than just samples to be collected."

This humanising of the anti-doping system is picked up on by those dozen tennis players, who contested the ITIA policy of "requiring players selected for drug testing to shower under direct observation if they choose to wash before providing a sample".

Woods echoes the indignity. "I've had testers come straight after my morning coffee. Let's just say I'm regular after that first caffeine hit. The chaperone can't take their eyes off you once you've opened the door, so I've had times when I've taken a shit staring eyeball to eyeball with a tester. I get it because there are cases in the past of athletes passing off clean samples by using a prosthetic penis. But you don't want it, the tester certainly doesn't want it. I must admit, you do sit there thinking fuck the dopers."

Anti-doping remains essential. Few athletes and researchers would argue otherwise. Yet as sport pursues cheats with ever greater vigilance, it must also consider the cost borne by those playing by the rules. For every doper trying to evade detection, thousands of clean athletes are navigating surveillance, suspicion and the fear of inadvertent error. Protecting sport's integrity matters. Protecting the well-being of the people who uphold it matters, too.

Hello everyone! When Cyclingnews, and more specifically the wonderful human that is Josh Croxton, first approached me roughly a month ago and floated the idea of writing my own column for their website, I was a young and relatively unknown rider within the WorldTour. Fast forward to the middle of June as I've started to write this first piece and that situation is now very different.

Hi, my name is Luke Tuckwell. I am a 21-year-old Australian professional cyclist for Red Bull-Bora-Hansgrohe. 2026 is my first year as a rider in the WorldTour and for the past two years I have been studying a communications degree online. So, when Josh initially pitched the idea for my own column, I immediately jumped on it due to my passion for journalism and love for communicating stories and experiences.

In this first piece I will explain my story, where I started, how I got to Europe, and ultimately how I ended up in the position that I am in today. I hope you enjoy the read, there will be plenty more to come!

Where did I start?

I actually don’t remember the day I said I wanted to ride a bike. I was so young that to me it has always been the norm. But I trace it back to a series of moments that my parents have subsequently told me.

For this part the Australian readers will know what I am talking about, but for the rest of you, as a toddler I was obsessed with the Australian kids' show 'The Wiggles’. They were mostly well known for the colour of their shirts. The lead character Greg wore yellow, Murray wore red, and Anthony wore blue. During this stage of my life my dad also began regularly watching the Tour de France, more specifically the morning thirty minute highlight package that SBS ran. Unfortunately for me, these highlights coincided with episodes of The Wiggles. So, in order for dad to stay up to date with the race and for his toddler to be satisfied, he tricked me into thinking that The Wiggles was the Tour. I think you can imagine how that turned out; a young Luke screaming "Go Greg!" at the top of his lungs as Lance Armstrong danced away from his rivals in the Alps.

I attribute this manipulation of a child’s mind by his father as the reason why I am completely obsessed with cycling today. Cycling has been ingrained into my life for the best part of fifteen years now, and I think my love for the sport is the biggest factor to my success and enjoyment of riding my bike.

My transition From Australia to Europe

I was a slow progresser in the Australian junior scene. I was in and around the podium regularly, but I wasn’t a prolific winner and didn’t score any national titles. I was fortunate enough to be a part of the hugely successful domestic team InForm TMX Make for my second junior year, which also happened to be the first year I went to Europe.

Let me take you back to November 2021. I was sitting in the kitchen alone and received an Instagram DM from Simon Clarke, one of the most successful and well respected Australian pros there has been. I was stunned, 17-year-old Luke couldn’t believe the notification on his phone. Anyways, Simon’s message in short entailed the details of a potential opportunity to go and race in Italy the following year for a few months. I immediately said yes before consulting my parents.

Over the next few months, together with Simon and my parents, we fleshed out the details and booked the flights for three months in Italy between April and July. And so 17-year-old Luke, in his final year of high school, waved goodbye to his family at Sydney airport bound for Rome.

The first week in Italy was horrible. I was incredibly homesick, to the point where if a taxi pulled up outside where I was living bound for the airport, I would have jumped into it immediately.

My first race was a week after arriving and it was the last thing I wanted to do. I went anyway without any expectations and saw it as a good first experience in the European peloton. I think during this first race I spent roughly 90% of the race in the last twenty positions on the road questioning my life choices as Italian teenagers pushed each other off the road with 80km still to go until the finish. The 10km lap we raced around consisted of a singular, gradual 3-4km climb to the finish, and the second last time up I somehow made it to the front. The legs felt good, and I launched an attack. Of course no one had any idea who I was so no one followed, and I began my pursuit towards the breakaway a minute ahead of the bunch. I eventually caught the breakaway, continued on riding with them sitting in my wheel, and subsequently dropped them on the final time up the climb to the finish.

I won my first race in Europe. Solo. A pretty good way to start my European racing career if I must say.

I quickly drew interest from a few individuals within the sport, and after another win in late June I decided that Trinity Racing was my destination for the 2023 season, my first year as a U23 rider. The following year I did what every young Australian rider does and moved to Girona in Spain, and got my head kicked in at the limited races I did in the second half of the year. I would be lying if I wasn’t a bit apprehensive to how the 2024 season would go, and so I returned back to Europe in February 2024 for my second year with Trinity.

Things started clicking

I could ramble on here about how I progressed throughout the 2024 season and all the ups and downs I experienced, but in short I had a great year. I was hyper-focused on nailing the first six months of the year, and making sure I was on the start line of the Giro Next Gen in June.

I got my first top 10 GC result in May in Ronde de l’Isard where I finished sixth. That was followed the next week by a fifth in the Belgian one-day race Flèche Ardennaise. At this point I was well and truly on track to be at the start of the Giro in Aosta, and in Aosta I was. I spent two long weeks up at altitude in Tignes solo prior to the race, and was in flying form from the beginning of the race. Coming into the last weekend of the race I was in the top 10 overall, then spilled out of it, and on the final day I pulled the first breakaway stunt of my career and snuck back into GC and finished 10th. The first big result of my career.

During the race John Wakefield from Red Bull-Bora-Hansgrohe approached me expressing their interest in me. They were excited by my style of racing and my development trajectory. John also explained the team’s plans of forming a development team for the 2025 season and, following my performance at the Giro Next Gen, I had a Zoom meeting with the team. Within the week, I was contracted to the Red Bull-Bora-Hansgrohe Rookies for the 2025 season.

The year that changed my life

I was blown away by the entire Red Bull organisation. Coming from a relatively small development team in Trinity Racing and stepping into the first day of the team's October camp in Austria with the likes of Primož Roglič and Jai Hindley sitting in the same room, cycling fanboy Luke couldn’t believe the position he was in.

I started slow last year. I had two great opportunities to race with the WorldTour team in Mallorca as well as Andalucia in the first two months of the year before I shifted my focus to the first big goal of the year, U23 Liège-Bastogne-Liège. I put in a solid performance finishing eighth but I felt as if I was far from my best.

Prior to the 2025 edition of the Giro Next Gen I spent three weeks in Andorra on an altitude training camp together with the rest of the Rookies team. I had an exceptional few weeks of training and was feeling the best I had ever felt on the bike, so confidence was high heading into the Giro once again. I was looking for another good GC result in the race, with the minimum expectation of exceeding my 10th place from the year prior.

After the first uphill test of the race on stage 3 I found myself sitting in third overall, with my team mate Lorenzo Finn sitting in second behind the previous year's winner Jarno Widar. Collectively as a team, we saw a golden opportunity to put some pressure on the race leader on the fifth stage to try and launch one of us into the leader's jersey. After a flurry of attacks midway during the stage I found myself in a group of ten other riders that slowly rode away from the maglia. We crossed the line a minute and forty five seconds ahead of Widar, and I had taken the maglia rosa for the first time. This was the second GC break away stunt of my career.

As I crossed the finish line and made my way towards my soigneur, I was overjoyed. My dad had travelled over from Australia for the duration of the race and he couldn’t contain his excitement. I couldn’t quite believe I was in the race lead of such a prestigious event with only three stages remaining, but my focus quickly shifted towards defending the jersey with an eye on winning the race overall. The following day was relatively uneventful and I retained my lead without any problems. I headed into the Queen stage with a slender margin over second place. Stage 7 also happened to be my 21st birthday, so I can’t begin to describe how incredible of an experience it was to race in the maglia rosa on my birthday. I unfortunately lost half of my margin on this day, and I would go into the final day looking to hold on to win the race.

I unfortunately did not win. Slovenian star Jakob Omrzel dropped me on the final climb and won the race by 12 seconds. I was heartbroken. I felt I had come so close to winning the biggest U23 race in the world and the chance slipped through my fingers.

The thing that did help with the disappointment was that in the following two weeks, I was offered a WorldTour contract. This moment was the culmination of years of hard work and a childhood dream of one day becoming a professional cyclist.

Although I would continue to beat myself up about what happened on the final day in the Giro for a long time afterwards, the realisation that I would be pro for the following season allowed me to slowly move on. But the pain of losing a bike race would seem like a drop of water a few months later.

After fighting chronic illness for the prior two and a half years, my younger sister Antonia’s health had taken a turn for the worst. I immediately rushed back to Australia in the first week of September and thankfully made it home in time to be there for her final days. I couldn’t quite comprehend the curveball life had thrown at myself and my family, where all of us only two months earlier were celebrating my first pro contract, to now all of us sitting together in a hospital room.

Losing my sister has been the most painful experience of my life. It took a very long time for it to actually feel true, but I was determined to continue to give my all in my career in honour of her. It is the only way she would have wanted me to live out my life.

New beginnings

And so 2026 rolled around and so did my first year as a professional cyclist. I moved to Andorra, like the majority of professionals do once they turn pro. I had my first serious December training camp with the entire team in Mallorca, and I started my season in Australia at the Tour Down Under, which is a race that is close to the heart of all Australians. It was the first time my entire family had the opportunity to come and watch me race at the highest level.

Little did I know that after the year that 2025 was, 2026 would find a way to outdo it. In my next piece next week I'll dive into it and the experience that was this year's Tour Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes.

See you then!

The 2026 Tour de France starts in Barcelona on July 4, but the battle for the yellow jersey began several weeks ago, high up in the Spanish Sierra Nevada mountains, at altitude training camps.

Tadej Pogačar (UAE Team Emirates-XRG), Remco Evenepoel (Red Bull-Bora-Hansgrohe) and Paul Seixas (Decathlon-CMA CGM) all spent three weeks atop the Spanish mountain, training and naturally boosting their oxygen-carrying capacity for their Tour de France showdown.

Tom Pidcock (Pinarello-Q36.5) headed to Sierra Nevada in late May and revealed that he had counted 14 WorldTour teams staying in Sierra Nevada. When the Tour Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes ended, Giro d'Italia winner Jonas Vingegaard joined his Visma-Lease a Bike teammates in Tignes, in the French Alps, for a final pre-Tour de France altitude camp. Pogačar and his UAE teammates will do something similar after the Tour de Suisse.

In recent years, altitude training camps have become a vital part of professional cyclists' lives. Most riders buy into the isolated mountain lifestyle, and most teams now cover the costs and send coaches, soigneur, mechanics and even nutritionists and performance chefs to help their riders train in the best way possible for their major goals.

"Altitude gives you something extra, but you have to be motivated to do it," a WorldTour rider, who preferred not to be identified, told Cyclingnews.

"I know a few riders who would prefer to avoid doing long altitude camps because they have young families, but most don't tell their teams; they just accept it's part of the job. But are the current demands on riders sustainable and healthy? I'm not so sure.

"I raced some of the cobbled Classics, had three days at home and then did a three-week altitude camp block for the Giro d'Italia. I travelled home on the Saturday and then left for the Giro on the Tuesday, spending another four weeks away riding a Grand Tour."

Altitude camps and the demands of modern pro cycling create bigger problems for the sport than a rider's time at home. The full impact is complex and often multi-layered, with key stakeholders such as teams and race organisers showing little interest in the stress it puts on riders and the sport as a whole.

The speciality coffee shops of Granada, at the foot of the Sierra Nevada, may have enjoyed a boom in consumption in recent weeks as riders stopped during training rides. Still, globally, fans, team sponsors, and the sport have paid a price for riders hiding away at altitude. The only people to see the biggest riders in the sport are Alfonso Sánchez, the manager of the Sierra Nevada High Performance Center and the few local riders who try to stay with riders on the climbs and capture a moment to share on their social media accounts.

Instagram posts from an altitude camp are not the same as seeing big-name riders at races and on television, though, where teams and sponsors capture their media value and repay their ever-bigger investments.

It is widely accepted that professional cycling lacks frequent big-rider showdowns, with the biggest riders in the sport only racing each other at the Tour de France. Tuttobiciweb have recently analysed the 'Startlist Quality' rating calculated by ProCyclingStats and confirmed that major WorldTour races like Paris-Nice, E3 Saxo Classic, UAE Tour, Ronde Van Brugge and the Amstel Gold Race have all seen a fall in the quality of their start lists as riders race less and prefer to train more, often at altitude.

The sport is becoming more polarised with each passing year. Science and training techniques have raised the level of performance and competition to an extreme that reduces the time riders can compete for victory. Peaks of fitness are harder to reach and last far less. Riders train more and race less.

Former Soudal-QuickStep team manager Patrick Lefevere raised a similar point in a recent column for Nieuwsblad.

"Which riders still like racing?" Lefevere asked. "I know that altitude camps work, but sometimes races now seem like [an] intermezzo between two of those camps."

Our headline calling for a ban on altitude training is a provocation that Lefevere would perhaps use for one of his columns to capture attention. Yet it also poses several questions. Would pro cycling be better, more equal and more entertaining if altitude camps and altitude training were banned to help rider welfare?

Should a pool of big-name riders be contractually obliged to race the same Classics calendar and then the same stage races, and in turn limit the time they spend training at altitude? Would more big-name clashes and a more balanced race schedule, instead of riders spending long spells living like hermits at the top of a mountain, make the sport more attractive to sponsors and global fans? Would riders be happier and healthier if they could spend more time at home?

Why go to altitude camps? The pursuit of peak haemoglobin mass

Elite athletes, especially professional cyclists, have always looked for ways to boost their performance. The 1968 Mexico Olympic Games were a turning point for altitude training, forcing athletes to find ways to prepare for the thin air of Mexico City.

In the 1990s and beyond, EPO was the drug of choice to raise a rider's haematocrit and so increase their performance to stratospheric but illegal levels. Anti-doping blood tests and the Biological Passport have hopefully limited illegal blood-boosting techniques, but in recent years, performance has improved thanks to better training methods, better energy consumption and altitude training.

Coaches and riders can now prepare for their biggest goals away from competition. The science is now so good that riding races as a form of training is considered a waste of time and can lead to 'de-training'. Evenepoel's decision not to race between Liège-Bastogne-Liège and the Tour de France sparked debate but makes scientific sense.

"Cycling has actually become a different sport compared to when I started racing," former domestique Tim Declercq, who has a master’s degree in sports science and works as a coach for Soudal-QuickStep, told Nieuwsblad.

"In the past, there was the idea that you couldn't be good if you hadn't raced. That is no longer the case. I think there are several reasons why riders race much less now than they used to."

These include training at a calorie deficit to help lose weight, working at specific thresholds and completing specific workouts for the biggest objectives.

Riders go to altitude camps several times a year based on their season goals and fitness.

Mount Teide on the Spanish island of Tenerife is especially popular for pre-season altitude camps as it avoids the risk of snowstorms that disrupted Uno-X Mobility's and Visma-Lease a Bike's early-season camps at Sierra Nevada. The limited availability of hotels and apartments on Mount Teide is why Pidcock and Pinarello-Q36.5 travelled all the way to Chile in February.

In the spring and summer, riders and teams head to Teide, Sierra Nevada or Mount Etna in Sicily to prepare for the Giro d'Italia and Tour de France, then to Tignes or Isola 2000 in the Alps, or Livigno near the border between Italy and Switzerland, for summer camps. Riders are convinced of the need for altitude camps, even if the benefits are shown to be personal to each rider.

Matej Mohoric recently trained with his Bahrain Victorious in Tenerife but preferred to train and sleep low, while his teammates were at altitude. Felix Gall (Decathlon CMA CGM) revealed during the Giro d'Italia that he combined three different altitude camps with early-season racing at the UAE Tour and the Volta a Catalunya to peak for the Corsa Rosa. He was hardly at home between late January and early June, but the plan paid off, giving him the fitness to finish second in the Giro. Adam Yates and his UAE teammates were not so fortunate. They also spent three weeks at altitude, but their Giro ended with a nasty crash on stage two.

Recent scientific research has proven that altitude training camps give pro cyclists a boost in performance.

Swedish-based Italian researcher Daniele Cardinale hit the headlines for his research into the use of now-banned carbon monoxide supplementation, but he is one of the leading experts in altitude training.

"It's not easy to quantify the benefits of altitude training due to the many variables, but several controlled research studies have confirmed the improvements we've seen with athletes. Elite athletes improve less than others, but even an improvement of between 1-2% is huge and worthwhile for an elite athlete," Cardinale told Cyclingnews, as he travelled to Livigno for a summer altitude camp.

"We know that haemoglobin mass – the key for transporting oxygen to the muscles – has an up-regulation of between two and eight per cent after three to four weeks of altitude.

"That increases the maximum oxygen carrying capacity, but it also improves the lactate buffer system, which also helps performance. We're also studying likely improvements to the cardio-respiratory system, the neuromuscular system, the increase in mitochondrial function and other environmental physiological improvements. There are muscular benefits as well as haematological benefits; it's now proven that sprint training in hypoxia increases performance."

Ways to avoid altitude camps and make a level playing field

The science and race results have shown that altitude training camps are currently vital for success in pro cycling, especially for the demands of the Tour de France. The concern is whether the modern training regimes are sustainable and so beneficial for the sport.

Are there perhaps better alternatives?

"I did a camp on Mount Tiede in late April, and I lived like a monk for three weeks. A rider can perhaps handle that once or twice a year for a big goal, but it's very demanding," our unnamed WorldTour rider admitted.

"It worked out for me, I had a good Giro and so it was worth the sacrifice, but that was perhaps not the case for a lot of other riders, who crashed out or struggled mentally. I don't know how long the new generation of riders will be able to handle this lifestyle and the intensity of it all. That is why 'burnout' is one of the biggest concerns amongst riders at the moment."

Adam Hansen, the president of the CPA riders' association, is well aware of the problems pro riders face and works to resolve them with the UCI, race organisers and the teams that employ the riders. Hansen has hiked in the Himalayas and completed numerous altitude camps during his own racing career.

"Riders have short contracts and know that their careers can be relatively short, so most are willing to attend camps and make the extra sacrifice to enjoy the benefits of altitude," Hansen told Cyclingnews.

"Riders are away from their families for long spells during a season, but I think altitude can be a benefit, especially for young riders, because they have the support of team staff, soigneurs, coaches and even nutritionists.

"I also believe that altitude can be a benefit if it means that riders race clean and still perform at a super high level. I'm in favour of riders training at altitude, rather than the temptations of doping.

"Riders tell me that they are more concerned about all the extra days they have to sacrifice around races. They have to travel to races earlier than in the past, sacrificing training and time at home for things that do not benefit their performance. The CPA is in favour of riders racing less in each season and in favour of avoiding lost days for other events. We believe that increasing team sizes could be one way to achieve that."

Riders literally count the number of days they race, train and stay at home, with the first two far outnumbering their time at home.

To reduce the impact training camps and altitude camps have on their private lives, but to still enjoy a haematalogical boost, some riders use hypoxic tents, despite their drawbacks such as noise and humidity. Bigger-name, wealthier riders have built altitude rooms in their homes. One Classics rider apparently had an altitude room built in his new villa in Spain, and so does not need to attend team altitude camps.

Riders are using other methods to help boost their blood values and so limit the time needed at altitude, including simulated altitude devices or machines, which are also legal under the WADA code.

Cardinale helped develop the heat training protocols that most WorldTour riders have in their training plans. Heat training helps to adapt to racing in the European summer but also boosts or maintains haemoglobin mass.

"Heat training could even extend or also improve on altitude training," Cardinale told Cyclingnews.

"Altitude training and heat training complement each other, so you can even have a staircase effect and build on the altitude camp work to get better physiologically. In turn, that means you then train at an even higher level at home and adapt better to a higher workload."

Mads Pedersen (Lidl-Trek) prefers to avoid altitude camps when possible but has embraced the pain of heat training.

"It’s terrible but terribly effective," he admitted.

Cardinale also believes in better individualisation for training, especially altitude training. This could reduce the time athletes need to spend away from home at altitude camps and help develop alternatives.

"Some teams still believe that everyone needs to go to the same altitude work for three weeks and that everyone will respond the same way. That's not true and far too simplistic," Cardinale said.

"The aim of precision medicine in health care is to give each individual patient the best medication, with the right dose at the same time. That mentality is finally being applied to sport and to pro cycling. It's about being as scientific as possible, not going with a gut feeling or sticking to traditions. Sport has to adapt, it has to follow the science, while respecting the athlete's health and wellness."

"For things to remain the same, everything must change"

Sport and professional cycling will never be truly equal. Budget caps can balance the spending power across the peloton, but some athletes always have natural advantages. Southern European-born riders can train at home throughout the off-season, while the likes of Jonas Abrahamsen and his Uno-X Mobility teammates have to do long indoor training sessions if they want to stay at home during the Norwegian winter.

Altitude training is considered a far bigger advantage than geography, and is why riders are obliged to attend so many altitude camps each season if they want to compete at WorldTour level.

Yet riders are currently near their physiological and psychological limits and fear burnout. Something has to be done to protect their health and welfare. Could banning altitude camps, as they currently exist, be the answer?

"We have to make sport physically and mentally sustainable," Cardinale suggested to Cyclingnews.

"It's up to the UCI and the so-called stakeholders to govern the sport and to create a sustainable sport for the athletes, teams and sponsors," he added.

The influence of proven sports science in pro cycling is increasing, and that is arguably a good thing. It brings performance and health benefits, but has also intensified the racing and training. The performances of the 2026 Tour de France won't be comparable to those of even just a decade ago.

The Tour de France traditionally lasts 21 days. In the early pioneer years, stages were 400km long, and riders raced every other day. Stage distances have fallen over the years, with riders given one rest day after a week.

The Classics are still often over 250km long and a real test of endurance and physiology, but is that still relevant and important in modern sport? Women's races and even the Vuelta a España have proven that longer race distances do not make for better racing.

Sports science has increased the intensity of our sport and changed the way riders train and race. It seems unstoppable and Luddite behaviour to even try. Is it not better to create new race formats and a new calendar that also reflects the change in performance?

If we can't stop riders from going to altitude, and we can't stop the science, perhaps we can at least change the sport to protect the riders' health?

As Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa's famous line from his novel The Leopard says: "For things to remain the same, everything must change."

That is also true for the world of professional cycling.

At 6:30am on Saturday, May 30, Unbound Gravel erupted into chaos. The peloton had just entered the first mud section of the race, and hundreds of riders came to a standstill. They grabbed their paint sticks and started whacking away at the mud, attempting to clear as much debris as possible. Most bikes were completely clogged, their wheels unable to turn, and so riders began putting them on their backs and running.

I joined my fellow racers in jogging to the top of the hill with a mud-clogged bike, and it took us all a few minutes to get going again. This was 'Mudbound' 2026, and I was in survival mode.

I'd known about the biggest race in gravel for many years, but I had yet to line up for the race in Emporia, Kansas. After years of chasing a professional road racing contract, I took a step back from racing in 2020 and began riding on Zwift. It didn't take long until I was Zwift racing five days a week, rediscovering my love for the sport from the comfort of my own home. My numbers were improving, and my competitiveness returned.

In 2025, I started thinking about gravel racing, and only a year later, I found myself signing up for the Unbound Gravel Elite 200. I didn't want to dip my toe into the shorter distances; I wanted to go straight into competing with the pros.

As a working husband and amateur cyclist, I don't have as much time to train as gravel pros. Riders like Romain Bardet, Keegan Swenson, and Matthew Beers can train 30 hours per week if they want to. Their job is to ride a bike and win races. My job is to write, coach, manage, and do things other than ride my bike. So I came into Unbound having trained 10-15 hours per week for the past few months. Would it be enough to keep up with the pros at Unbound?

My Unbound Gravel Training Plan

90% of my training is done indoors. It's a personal preference that I've had for most of my cycling career, and for good reason. Outdoor riding isn't always feasible when you live in a cold climate. Why would I spend 20 minutes getting dressed for a one-hour ride in sub-freezing temperatures?

Indoor training is also time-efficient. I'll never waste time coasting down a hill or sitting at a traffic light. There are many reasons that I prefer indoor training, yet I still got outside for a few gravel training rides before Unbound. The 207-mile gravel race wasn't my only goal for the year, so I was still doing plenty of VO2 Max intervals and explosive work, rather than 3x20 minutes in zone three. Here is an example week of my training one month before Unbound.

In the weeks leading up to Unbound, I did a last-minute training block in an attempt to peak for the 207-mile race, putting together a 15- and 14-hour week just before Unbound. This was followed by a 10-day taper to ensure I was rested and fresh for Unbound. Obviously, 15 hours on the bike isn't much compared to the pros, but I added more intensity to really drive home the 'overload' feeling in the legs during this block.

In hindsight, I think I made a mistake here. Instead of upping my weekly volume for a couple of weeks, I think I would have benefited more from doing two to three'race simulation' rides. These would be five to six hours in the saddle, front-loaded with intervals followed by long blocks of zone two and zone three. This would prepare my body for the effort I'd experience at Unbound, but to be honest, I was a bit scared of these sessions. It's quite daunting to picture yourself smashing a six-hour training ride during a typical work week.

Overall, my fitness was quite good coming into Unbound. Unlike the pros, I hadn't trained the house down, but I was in good form, having won the Wisconsin State Crit two weeks before Unbound. The legs were there; now I just needed to be prepared for anything and everything.

The 3am thunderstorm was foreshadowing

I woke up the morning of Unbound to the rumbles of thunder in the distance. There had been rumours of overnight rain, and when I rolled over in my hotel bed to check the weather radar, I knew it was happening. The radar was bright red, and there was a massive storm cloud just south of Emporia, dumping rain on the first 30 miles of the course. I knew there would be a mud section there, but few of us realised how much time we would spend in the mud.

I had done everything in my power to prepare for Unbound, and there isn't a checklist quite like it. How can you possibly prepare for 207 miles in variable weather conditions, three aid stations, zero neutral support, questionable cell phone reception, and millions of rocks that could slice your tyre open at any moment?

Packing for Unbound was almost as stressful as racing Unbound. I envied the pros who had the full support of mechanics, soigneurs, and other staff. That is one of the biggest divides in modern day gravel racing – half the Elite field has a team of professionals to support them, while the rest of us have to make do with everything and everyone we can scrape together. A local race is one thing – asking friends and family to drive 10 hours to the middle of nowhere in Kansas is another.

My support system fell apart the morning of Unbound. After weeks and months of planning, the support system I thought I had was nowhere to be found. So there I was, 10 minutes before the start of the race, frantically packing my bottles into drop bags that Life Time would graciously take to the second and third aid stations. I wouldn't have anyone at the first aid station due to the failure of communication, which meant I would have to carry enough fuel to make it to the second aid station around four hours into the race.

The stress levels were off the charts, but if I've learned anything from gravel racing, it's that stressing about stress only makes things worse. The coolest and calmest riders are those who win the race. Anyone who panics loses all hope for a result – this was another piece of foreshadowing for the eventual winner, Mads Würtz Schmidt, who suffered a tyre-busting flat while in the lead of the race. But you already know how his race went. Back to me, the everyday amateur who just ran to the start line with five minutes to go.

It was 5:50am when we rolled over the start line in Emporia, and within seconds: chaos. Instead of turning left on the official race route, the lead moto had us turn right. Hundreds of bike computers chirped like a robotic symphony as we looped around town and back onto the correct course. The neutral zone was nothing spectacular, a few jockeying for position, but nothing like the calamity of last year's Big Sugar, where we rode straight into oncoming traffic.

As we hit the first mud sector at mile 12, the peloton relaxed because the mud was packed and smooth. But as we turned left at mile 15, the field exploded on a thick uphill mud section.

Almost every rider jumped off their bikes, grabbed their paint stick, and started swiping at the chunks of peanut butter mud glued to their frame. Wheels stopped spinning, drivetrains were ruined, and more than a few curse words were flying through the air. "This race sucks," I heard one rider say as we were scraping mud off our bikes.

The next few hours were... hilarious. I've struggled to search for other words to describe these miserable moments. The suffering was off the charts, we were all soaked and caked in mud, our bikes sounded terrible, and our chains were skipping like children on a schoolground.

I made it a few miles before my chain threw itself off its ring and onto my pedal. Thankfully, I noticed it right away, so I coasted to a stop and tried to remount the chain. My muddy fingers could hardly grasp it, and it took a few tries before the teeth finally stuck. I got caught by US Gravel National Champion Bradyn Lange, and that boosted my morale. If Lange was back here – a professional rider with the best equipment there is and an entire support crew – then I must not be doing that bad.

I don't know what kind of power Lange was pushing at this point of the race, but I averaged 325 watts for half an hour sitting on his wheel. Normally, that wouldn't be a crazy effort for me, but I also knew that we had more than seven hours to go.

By the time we hit Texaco Hill, the longest climb of the race, I was gritting my teeth just to stay with my chase group. I knew the leaders were miles ahead, but I also knew that I was likely in 30-50th position at this point in the race. Considering where I was coming from, I was more than happy to be in this position. When my group splintered before aid station two, I was feeling OK. A few pros had flown past me, but I was still chugging along.

At the second aid station, I found my drop bag, grabbed a few bottles, and made my way back onto the pedals. I didn't have a crew to power wash my bike, and who knows how many watts I was losing by continuing with mud in my drivetrain. Either way, I made my way out of the aid station and saw two notable riders up ahead: Payson McElveen and Taylor Phinney. "Those guys are really good," I thought to myself. If I'm catching them at this point in the race, then I must be doing pretty well.

Our chase group grew to six as we turned east, and this is where my race took a turn for the worse.

A heavy thunderstorm began dumping rain on top of us, and the headwind grew stronger as we inched through the mud. Every hill felt like a mountain, and we were moving at a snail's pace with no end in sight.

Lightning struck the ground all around us – I wasn't the only one who thought this was extremely dangerous. We were riding in the open fields of Kansas, and I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if the strikes became a bit too close.

Thankfully, none of us got struck by lightning, but I still suffered a catastrophic injury at this moment in the race. While riding through the mud, straight into a headwind, in the middle of a thunderstorm, there was no choice but to take our sunglasses off. Keegan Swenson – who finished fifth on the day – said that he wore a prototype pair of ROKA sunglasses that had tear-off lenses. That was perhaps the only thing that could have saved us in these weather conditions, but I didn't have a pair of the prototypes.

I rode without glasses, squinting and scrunching my face in an attempt to protect my eyes, but it wasn't enough. Specks of dirt, gravel, and grit made their way into my eyes, and there was nothing I could do. My hands, gloves, and clothing were covered in mud, so I had nothing to wipe my glasses with. I stopped on the side of the road multiple times in an attempt to relieve the pain, but nothing worked. I started riding with one eye closed – if you find any pictures of me during the race, it probably looks like I'm winking at the camera. But the reality was, I was riding with one eye.

My morale was ruined, and the pain became unbearable.

The diagnosis, I would find out later at the doctor's office, was a scratched cornea. At some point, I had gotten so much dirt and gravel in my eye that it had actually sliced the surface. It made sense that the pain was a 10 out of 10 with 100 miles to go. But being the stupid cyclist I am, I wanted to finish the race. My hopes for a top result were gone, but at least I could say that I finished.

I rode with one eye for an hour and a half, but the pain kept getting worse. The sketchy roads became dangerous, and I was worried I'd do permanent damage to my eye by continuing for four more hours. At mile 127, I pulled the plug and made the decision to ride back to Emporia. I limped back into town, covering one eye and on the edge of tears. I had put so much into this – months of physical and mental preparation, hundreds of training hours, so many days of packing and planning – and now it was all over. Just like that, my Unbound had come to an end.

What went well – gravel racing tips

The biggest takeaway I had from Unbound was this: be prepared for anything.

Now that is a big statement, and being prepared means different things to different people. I was never going to have a team bus at Unbound with a mechanic ready to switch out my tyres and pedals an hour before the race. But that is a luxury that many gravel pros have.

From my perspective as an amateur, being prepared for anything meant creating a massive packing list before I left Wisconsin. It meant heat training with my CORE suit in case the race was hot and dry. It meant having a bike like the Lauf Seigla with massive tyre clearance in case there was mud. And it meant having tons of nutrition on board for a 10-hour effort.

In a race of this length, comfort is key, especially at the contact points. Any little niggle can turn into a chronic injury when you're pushing on the pedals for nearly half a day. Thankfully, I found that my custom Posedla saddle eliminated pain downstairs, Solestar BLK insoles that helped my feet stay strong, and I had done months of gym work to prepare for the full-body beating of Unbound.

My preparation was dialled. I did everything in my power to prepare for Unbound, and in the end, the race-ruining events were mostly outside my control. But I still made a few mistakes.

What I would do differently next time

Note to self: when you see 50 riders in front of you cleaning mud off their bikes, hop off the saddle and run to the grass immediately.

In the mud sector at mile 15, I rode too far into the mud before making my way to the grass. Those few extra pedal strokes clogged my bike with mud and left me wasting precious time scraping the chunks off my frame. I should have hopped off the bike sooner.

Another mistake came from one of my biggest weaknesses in cycling: positioning. I often struggle to find my way to the front third of the peloton, and once I'm there, I sometimes get scared and drop back. At this year's Unbound, I actually made my way into a good position at mile 12. But then I relaxed when I saw the mud was smoother than advertised. I slid to the back of the group, and by the time we hit the real mud sector, I was 30 seconds behind the leaders just by virtue of being at the back of the line.

In fact, I did 50 watts more than the leaders through the mud sector (leaders of a similar weight). Yet, I was minutes behind. That is a failure by position, not by fitness.

When it comes to support, I know that I lost precious time and energy compared to the pros. It isn't feasible for every amateur to have a full support crew at Unbound, but next time, I know I need to have more. The support that I thought I had left me hanging at the last minute, so I didn't have a power washer or hand-ups in the aid stations. Had I been in a leading position, I would've lost too much ground to the pros with full support crews. And when it comes to riding six hours on a muddy drivetrain, who knows how many watts I was losing compared to those who had their bikes power-washed? I'd love to see that study – I'm looking at you, Dylan Johnson.

Can amateurs compete with pros in a 200-mile gravel race?

This is the question that I pondered on the 10-hour drive to and from Emporia, Kansas. At first, I went back and forth with myself. Amateurs vs pros – can one upset the other? But the more I thought about it, the more the answer became obvious. I was driving all the way to Emporia, so of course I believed it was possible. If I didn't, I would've stayed at home.

When you look at the power files, pacing, and timing, I truly believe that an amateur can match the pros. Countless professional riders DNFed at this year's Unbound. Some suffered crashes, others racing-ending mechanicals. Yy tyres were filled up with an unreleased sealant the day before the race, and I never flatted on my 50mm Panaracer tyres. With a slightly smarter mindset, I could've gotten through the mud faster than most. If I made the right decisions, the time savings were there.

However, I lost time and efficiency by not having a power washer at the aid stations. But during a dry Unbound when drivetrain-caking isn't a factor, I wouldn't have lost significant time. I grabbed my bottles and USWE hydration pack as quickly as the pros. In fact, I caught some of them that had stopped for much longer.

Finally, when you look at the power output of the podium, anything seems possible. Those who succeed at Unbound are those who can race for 9-10 hours without imploding. No one is doing 400 watts for 20 minutes at the end of Unbound. Instead, it seems like anyone who can hold 300 watts in the final two to three hours of Unbound is destined for the podium. The rest of the peloton cracks. I was hoping to see what my legs had left in them, but my eye had other ideas.

Will I be back next year? It's hard to say. The wounds are still fresh – literally – as it's still blurry to see out of my left eye. I wonder how many of my competitors have vision problems this week. Others suffered crashes and broken bikes. It was an unforgettable Unbound, one that will stay burned into our memories forever.

To answer the question from the title of this article... when it's muddy, the answer is 'No.'

To save you time and so you already have the idea in your head whilst you're reading this article, the main thing I have learnt so far in a year and a half as a professional athlete is that less is more.

In 2024, I completed my final school exams, called A-levels in the UK, at my local sixth form. These exams normally lead you to start a university degree, an apprenticeship, or whatever journey you desire in post-compulsory education, which finishes at 18 in the UK. My schooling and formal education ended there, but of course, learning never stops; we learn new things every day. So what have I learnt over almost one and a half years in the professional cycling peloton, whilst also moving to, and living alone in, a different country at 18?

First of all, I can briefly yet completely summarise that learning another language is extremely difficult. As a typical British person who underwent five years of compulsory language education in secondary school - French in my case - I still can’t even string together a sentence in the language now. Therefore, learning Spanish since moving to Andorra has been a very painful process, but slowly I'm getting there (and I very much love life here in the mountains). Don't get me started on Catalan, though. It is the official language of Andorra, and looks similar to Spanish, yet it is completely incomprehensible to a poor Spanish speaker like myself.

I chose to move to Andorra for many reasons, but mostly because I believe it’s a great place for training: the many high mountain passes and flat valley roads, an endless number of people to train with, and a great support system, from physios to personal trainers, thanks to Movistar. But also, the more practical adult reason was that due to Brexit, it was much easier to gain residency here than to obtain a Spanish visa, for example.

So, fresh from the days of balancing school with cycling, I'm now solely focused on living a life where the everyday goal is to be the best athlete I can be. Time and energy seemed to be in much greater abundance than my previous days, which were filled with full-time education and exam revision, alongside training towards a professional contract and, of course, racing. Naturally, the extra time was an utterly lovely and blissful thing: to wake up at will, fuel the day's training, and leave for it whenever I felt like it. However, after some months of training and racing full-time, that extra energy became problematic.

I write this article in May, which has been a reflective month for me. Last year, just like this year, I focused the early part of the season on the Classics, took a few easy, restful days after that block, and then had a big, long period throughout May to train again for the next big goal. This year, it's the Giro d'Italia at the start of June. Of course, the normal thing to do nowadays when granted a long training period focused on one competition is to go to altitude. However, unlike last year, there is no altitude for me this year.

In 2025, I started my first-ever altitude block in Sierra Nevada, Spain, alone. I'm someone who loves the process – the day-to-day training – just as much or even sometimes more than the outcome, the racing. I'm the annoying athlete who is always pushing the coach's limits to increase the amount of training set on TrainingPeaks. I think this is for two reasons: one, because I love to be busy, years of balancing school work and cycling always meant there wasn’t much time for sitting down on the sofa, and now with all this extra time, sometimes it feels strange not doing something productive with it, such as more training.

And the other thing, as I have alluded to, is that I just really enjoy riding my bike. Therefore, when the concept of simply waking up and focusing on training every day – still a fairly new and idyllic phenomenon to me – was combined with being in an environment such as sleeping at 2,400 metres to reach peak performance, the feeling of reaching that goal of being the best you can be looms as near as it will ever be. It is extremely motivating to do everything possible to better that possibility. Because, of course, we always want more.

My time in Sierra Nevada was amazing. I enjoyed carrying out the smaller extra processes that take place at altitude, the sole focus of waking up and completing that day's training without any distractions and the heightened attention to fueling. However, I had been warned about how easy it was to overcook yourself or underfuel, or both. At altitude, the norm of my training became doing 20 to 30 minutes longer than my carefully planned TrainingPeaks session every day. For many reasons, mostly because I believed it was the appropriate thing to be ‘tough’ on myself to become better. But an additional factor became the boring concept of returning to my accommodation with nothing else to do that day other than eat and sleep.

Time is unimaginably in abundance when staying in the ‘centro de alto rendimiento’. Shortened to and commonly called the CAR, it is a surprisingly well-known building in the world of endurance sports. The translation of the CAR's name into English is 'the high performance centre'. You'd think the goal of a business's name should be to make the product sound a bit more exciting than it is; however, the CAR is truly unique in that the brand name describes the only activities available at Sierra Nevada in May. Not even the lone 90m squared supermarket is open in between the winter and summer seasons, so there is very much nothing to do other than 'high performance'.

On top of pushing the time to the boundaries of turning that session on TrainingPeaks yellow (an indicator on the platform that a training session has been completed to less than or more than 20% of the total time planned), most of the time, my power would be near the absolute highest watts it could be for zone two. Alongside those extra minutes and unnecessarily increased intensity, I continued to strictly follow the nutrition plan uploaded at the start of the week, and based on the week's upcoming training, without thinking about increasing that intake due to the extra calories I was burning.

Therefore, as you can imagine, training up there was going relatively badly, but that was easy to put down to the fact that I was doing altitude for the first time. It's expected to see much lower numbers; it’s normal to be finishing training every day completely wasted and empty, that is how peak performance will come. But, day-by-day, irrational choice by irrational choice, I was unknowingly digging myself into a big hole.

In the short term, there didn’t seem to be a sign of any problem. I had my first-ever WorldTour win in my first race post-altitude training, yet that month's period still hadn’t come. The success post-altitude turned out to be very short-lived. For the rest of the season, I struggled with fatigue, rarely had a good or normal day in training, and found myself ill much more than usual, which impacted my big goals and hopes for the season.

It felt like I was in a constant battle of trying to understand my body and failing. Sometimes fighting with logic, but most of the time, without logic, and in denial that the problem was so clear. I continued without menstruation for 10 months.

That point just made is why I wanted to share my experience of RED-S. Relative Energy Deficiency in Sport is a syndrome of poor health and declining athletic performance caused by an imbalance between food intake and exercise energy expenditure.

Thankfully, I can say my story with RED-S is quite short: after 10 months, in the off-season on holiday last year, I regained my period (the most telling sign for women), then followed more normal feelings in training and, in general, more normal sensations in my mood and overall energy for life.

I wouldn’t say I’m completely back to normal now. I still have an irregular menstrual cycle, still aim to get more healthy fats into my diet, and as I mentioned before, altitude is completely off the charts for me right now. With the general consensus that putting my body under that much stress again will do more harm than good, even if it is done in the opposite way to last year's doings.

But what did I learn, and what do I put it down to? Those careless and unfueled extra 20 to 30 minutes of training I did at altitude every day? I would say no, although they were likely the start of the problem. The real cause was the lack of logic in my brain that allowed me to justify the decisions and actions made at the altitude camp, and seeing immediate short-term results made those decisions a habit after that solo altitude camp. Until, of course, it clicked in my brain that what I was doing was not a recipe for long-term success, which, of course, in my case as a 19-year-old athlete at the time, should always have been the priority.

In some ways, and because I have to look for some positives in this situation, I would argue that experiencing this very steep learning curve in the first year of turning professional may be the best way to hopefully instill healthy attitudes and thinking going forward. Of course, provided that the learning curve provides lessons, which, for me, it definitely did, as I can say that my experience with RED-S is one I truly hope and believe I will never repeat.

So I share this to hope that what I have learnt can be taught vicariously to anyone willing to listen. Going forward, I am prioritising listening to my body and being patient with progress. I have almost gone full circle back to the start, and I am now considering restarting my studies online. Not because I reminisce on the days of school work and training, but because life, and the world also, is not and cannot be all about cycling. I now realise that for me, it is very important not to be solely reliant on one thing, mainly for perspective on that thing, but also to learn to find happiness and fulfilment in other things that aren’t cycling, because there will come a time when I am not allowed to cycle that day or that month. Or maybe I’m just back in Sierra Nevada in May again. But most importantly, I will be remembering that more is not always more. Less is more.

Gravel seems to have been at a crossroads since its inception, in an ironic nod to the Flint Hills of Kansas that catapulted the discipline into the collective consciousness. Aero bars being banned at Unbound Gravel several years ago now caused quite a stir, but in reality this did little to affect the actual nature of the racing. It remained a privateer model; pros and amateurs racing the same course at the same time, with a spirit of self-sufficiency and community uplift that in no small part made the sport phenomenally popular in a relatively short space of time.

Now, though, with a slightly forlorn predictability, the gravel scene is increasingly professional, with a growing gulf not just between the pros and the amateurs paying their entry fees to participate, but between professional riders backed by big-budget teams and individual privateer athletes.

While in Girona for The Traka recently, I took some time to speak to riders about what they think of the rise of gravel teams, and what it all means for the future of the sport, and the future of the 'spirit of gravel'.

Privateers, collectives, cabals, and full-on teams

If you scroll through the results of the men’s and women’s Traka races, you’ll see the number of athletes not affiliated with at least a small collective of other riders is very small. In the men’s 360, there are perhaps three or four in the top 40, and it’s similar in the women’s event.

Rosa Klöser bucks this trend, officially classing herself as a privateer off-road, and even going so far as to have ‘PRIVATEER’ written down the side of her back pocket on her skinsuit. This belies the fact that she is also a fully paid rider on the well-resourced Canyon-SRAM zondacrypto Women's WorldTour team, exhibiting great form early in the season by a long solo breakaway at Paris-Roubaix before turning her focus to the world of gravel for Traka, Unbound, and the Life Time Grand Prix.

Many of these teams, the likes of PAS Racing and the Castelli Spirit of Gravel cabal, run as hybrids, with riders racing in the same jersey but operating to a greater or lesser extent as privateers, engaging their own bike and equipment sponsors. Castelli Spirit of Gravel, for clarity, very much does not class itself as a team, whereas PAS is less averse to the term.

There are some outfits, however, like the Ribble Outliers, who were set up with a different ethos. Their rider Harry Tanfield explained the differences to me.

"It's not like the factory teams, which have the same sponsors; they're kind of more individual riders. We’re all friends. We look after each other and are always together in the house. It’s just that road team element culture is more what we have that others don’t, but we’re also from the road background.

"When we first started, no one really knew what was happening, and it was just a group of individuals all together. It wasn't until we did a few races together that we kind of worked our way through it, how you know things can work together as a group, mainly off the bike rather than on the bike. Making sure you're not going to have six people all trying to cook their own dinners and stuff like that there, which in some gravel teams will happen."

The need for course support is also a clear benefit of being part of a team. Riders like Dylan Johnson have tried to do it alone, Tanfield mentioned, but even he is now part of a Felt team.

"I think support in the races is so important. It depends how hot it is and where it is, but if you're a privateer and doing a seven-hour race and you've got to start with four litres [of water] on you instead of two, it's a big disadvantage," he explained.

Sophie Wright, also of Ribble Outliers, was keen to point out the advantages that being a privateer can still offer.

"If you're good enough to be able to pick and choose your own sponsors, you can build a complete package around you. And if, providing you get a decent salary, you can then say ‘OK, I'm gonna pay this mechanic... I'm gonna pay for a soigneur, and I'm going to pay for a mechanic. Done’, then that person can drive you, and that person can go to the supermarket."

Later, I sat down with last year's men’s Traka 360 winner, and co-manager of PAS Racing, Tobias Kongstad. He was keen to stress that - despite a hugely dominant performance in the 360 last year for men and women - PAS Racing is a step below the likes of Specialized Off-Road, the six-rider team that features two-time Traka 200 winner Sofia Gomez Villafañe.

"Right now in gravel racing there is, as you mention, three different ways you can do it. There is the full-on team, as you might see from Specialized or Canyon, where everyone gets a fixed salary from the team, and there is a team manager saying how to do the things," Kongstad said.

"Then there's us: We are doing everything together. We have mechanics, chefs together. We are sharing the same clothing, but we are not sharing the same bikes.

"Two years ago, when you look at a privateer's programme, I think they’re struggling a lot because maybe you can earn a little bit more as a privateer, but at the end of the day doing Life Time Grand Prix you do seven trips to the USA, and some of the places like Nebraska, Iowa, they’re not the centre of the world. So I think being together and being able to travel together, I think it’s pretty nice that we’re racing the same days… and we don’t need to think about pleasing seven sponsors and think about housing and a kitchen, because in the USA that’s a big task."

Team tactics don’t exist – yet

If you watch a livestream of a gravel race as a road cycling fan, you might assume that seeing a handful of PAS riders clad in their trademark brown skinsuits would mean we would see road-like team tactics: breakaways, blocking, chasing as a collective endeavour. but this seems like it’s not possible yet, both from a sponsorship point of view but also due to the dynamics and difficulties of the racing.

"There I think it'll be a little bit tricky because, from the team side - and I can talk as a manager or sports director or whatever - I cannot say to Karolina [Migoń] that she shouldn't take a pull if her teammate is in the front, because then Karolina’s bike sponsor will be like 'hey, why didn’t you do it?'," Kongstad explained.

"So I think until now what we have been doing is that you don't race for each other, but we also don’t race against each other. In gravel racing you can have all the team tactics you want, but at the end of the day it's tough to race… if you’re a good bike rider you’ll be in the top five or ten."

Migoń, Unbound Gravel 200 winner in 2025, and Traka 360 winner in 2024 and 2025, is more unequivocal.

“We don’t disrupt the race… we don’t talk before the race and say ‘Oh I will race for you’, we just see during the race what’s going on and we adjust."

After the Traka 360 and 200 had concluded, I sat down at a café with Piotr Havik of Castelli SOG (that’s Spirit of Gravel, if you hadn’t worked that out for yourself). As a privateer, both standalone in the past and now under the SOG umbrella, he shares the concerns of many as to what dedicated teams mean for the sport, though stressed that for the time being the issues haven’t come to pass.

"At this point I didn’t have the feeling like, OK, now the whole race got screwed because we have eight riders from one team all in the front and they are blocking like they are fucking up the race; that didn’t happen yet, but the bigger the teams are, the more riders from one team are in there, the more they can play those nasty tactics.

Tanfield put it with equal frankness: "There's only a certain amount of races where you can really work together well as a team. If you’re following a wheel in front, you're following a wheel in front.

“For guys like us, we're trying to scrape into that top end. We're not Matt Beers or Mads Würtz Schmidt who can just turn up and wipe the floor… we’re trying to do as little as possible in the groups to try to help ourselves as a team to get the best result, rather than controlling the race."

The benefits are outside the race course

The traditional benefits of riding in a team – whatever 'team' means in this context – drafting, chasing, dedicated leadership simply don’t seem to be possible in the chaos and sheer physical effort of racing over 300 kilometres of off-road, which begs the question as to why so many riders are turning away from the privateer life to join organised outfits.

The reason, primarily, is that while the racing remains almost entirely an individual endeavour, a team affords the riders a degree of mental space that the privateer life simply cannot accommodate.

“The advantage, and the reason why I really like to be part of a team, is because it's just less stress," Wright surmised. "Like, if I was a privateer, for example - I did the UCI World Series in Monaco last week, and that wasn't a team-supported race, but I thought 'I want to do it anyway, so I'm going to self-support it,' and my dad flew out to help me in the feed zones, drive me over there, blah, blah, blah… But I just found it much more stressful.

"I had to organise the feed zones, I had to do all the shopping, accommodation, clean my bike, do the chain, communicate with some of my friends who are doing the race and ask if they can help me in the feed zone because I wanted two feed zones per lap, and I was like ‘stuff being a privateer!'"

More than that, more than physically or mentally taking a load off, the collective race lifestyle is just far more sociable. Wright told me straight that the team life is "just a lot less lonely" and this is mirrored by Migoń.

"It’s also nice to not be alone during the races...even like being in a new place on the other side of the world, you are not alone there, it helps a lot mentally."

Mérida Miller, also of the Castelli SOG crew, is effusive in her praise for the support the team brings to her riding.

"I think we both just loved the general ‘vibes’. But that's truly what it is, right? So, even just having a WhatsApp group where people are just sharing stupid memes about shit, or like cheering each other on whatever, it feels like you're part of something. And also what I love about the SOG crew is that it really is celebrating all the different types of riders.

"Even my coach this year was like – it's my second year racing – ‘wow, I've really seen a difference in you’. I could show you our WhatsApp group, but it's like, so wholesome, right? So it's like, we're cheering each other on, we're checking in."

There is, of course, a financial aspect to it too. Being a privateer means your costs are shouldered by you alone, whereas a collective setup allows the sharing of resources.

"If you’re fully privateer, it’s super nice that you have all the freedom, but then what comes on top of that you have to think about every single part yourself, from your brake pads to your chain to your mechanics, travelling, feeding, and then it costs a lot of money," Havik said.

"When I was a privateer, I had a guy following me, which was luckily a videographer but also he knows how to give bottles. Every day he’s there, you have to pay him, and that’s a big investment for a privateer. Basically a person like this can do it for three or four riders and with Castelli SOG you find a nice mid-ground where you can still do things and decide things yourself like the programme, the equipment, but there are people around you who can support you where needed."

Havik also went on to outline the drawbacks of being on bigger, more professionalised teams. PAS Racing wasn’t explicitly outlined, but between them and Specialized Off-road, they are the most well-oiled and well-resourced outfits in the field.

"A lot of times, in most teams, they lean into the extreme professional side or try to be as professional as possible, but then a lot of times you have a lack of resources. They want to act as one of the big teams, but then it creates pressure because okay, you expect a lot from us, but the environment is not there like with UAE [Team Emirates-XRG]."

As money continues to pour into gravel, the resource grows. However, the ability for the bigger teams to spend big and invest in big results also increases. Migoń, for example, was a software engineer alongside her gravel racing until 2026, something that clearly didn’t hold her back.

Though she was marred at the Traka by a crash with an age-grouper from a different race in the 360, she had come to the race off the back of an altitude camp in Colombia, something that’s extremely common in the WorldTour but almost unheard of in gravel.

UCI points and the road-gravel continuum

So fresh is the discipline, and sprung up as it has from a disparate series of grassroots events free from the UCI umbrella, it is unusual compared to most other performance cycling disciplines insofar as the UCI-sanctioned races under the UCI Gravel World Series aren’t the pinnacle. They do, however, offer UCI points, giving pro road teams a carrot to bump up their team rankings alongside the road season.

You would think that there would be a reluctance from the gravel pros to see WorldTour roadies mixing it up in the gravel ranks, but I was surprised to find the reception was warm, partially because it would offer further legitimacy to the discipline, but also because the days of recently retired road riders rocking up to gravel events to farm podium spots are very much over.

"The gravel specialists, a lot of them are more focused on Gravel Earth series and other races, so they are not only focused on UCI [points], but they still do a lot of UCI racing. I think for the sport it will be good. Also, road professionals show up, and like Tim Wellens said in Marly Grav when he won there, ‘fuck, this was not an easy win," Havik explained.

"Let them come and experience, and also show the high level we have in gravel already. We are also professionals, and it doesn’t mean that because we are not wearing a WorldTour kit that we don’t know how to ride our bikes and how to push watts."

Though we are probably a way off having truly merged disciplines – even if riders like Rosa Klöser are showing that you can do both at the highest level of the sport – that's something that former road pros like Sophie Wright would welcome.

"It would be sick to go back to a WorldTour team, but have a primary focus on gravel, and then dip in and out of road races," she said. "You can race Strade Bianche, Flèche Wallonne, blah blah, and then you can come and do Traka [like Klöser]. For me, that's actually an ideal package personally, so I'm not really opposed to it."

Professionalism, community, and the ‘Spirit of Gravel’ without irony

Teams undoubtedly make riders’ lives easier, but is there an underlying cost to the community as a whole that comes with this growing professionalism? The phrase ‘spirit of gravel’ has been used so often that it's become a bit of a cliché, but there is a real meaning to it.

Nathan Haas has seen cycling through the lens of the WorldTour and professional gravel, and though he has stepped back from the Castelli SOG crew in some aspects, he’s well placed to outline the reasons for its formation as a counterpoint to traditional teams.

"I sat down with Steve Smith - one of the owners of Castelli - we’d just finished Iceland Rift, and it sort of begged the question: ‘what's the direction of this sport?’ We were trying to zoom out and see in a glass ball," Haas said.

"We’ve both been around cycling for long enough to have seen what happened to mountain biking, during the NORBA series when mountain biking was like at its peak and in many ways it exploded. We've seen cyclo-cross. We've seen the fixie scene. There’s a lot of times where sport has actually come in and out of fashion and grown. This is gravel cycling’s first foray.

"What does SOG represent? Trying to protect the very essence of what gravel is and personally what I feel it should be. It's the last discipline in cycling that an athlete can still come with their bike bag to an event and still potentially win it without the need for being in a team that's based around tactics and supporting a specific rider or having the need to have the mechanics, the soigneurs, all the feeders to be competitive."

It would be very easy to paint this as all a bit 'back in my day...' from Haas, but there isn’t a hint of bitterness, or even misty-eyed nostalgia. Gravel seems to cause riders who have a certain level of experience to see how the sport has changed to speak with passion about the heart of the sport that you simply never see on the road.

Haas, again, dived deeper into the value that community adds to the sport.

"I was starting to feel in many ways that the sport was beginning to drift away from what I loved about it… Some people might call me stuck in the past with this, but I'm not scared to share my feeling on it because there's something beautiful about gravel," he said.

"And what we're slowly starting to see with all of these tents, there's an unequal playing field in the sport now. Riders don't even have to come to pick up their numbers anymore; they're staying at home off their legs. They're having a massage. That's an advantage to the rider who's trying to win, but is that actually an advantage to the sport where we don't have TV coverage? We don't have non-endemic sponsors. It's basically 99 per cent sponsored and supported by the bike industry."

The start and finish area of The Traka is a world away from the pits of a WorldTour race where the riders are hidden away in their buses, doing media interviews out of obligation, staying away from the public gaze as much as possible. In Girona you could rub shoulders with people who have just come top-10 in the biggest gravel race in Europe, and that’s something gravel could lose as the team aspect grows.

"When they're not turning up to speak to people or to integrate, there's a loss there, right?" Haas said.

"We're slowly losing this community feel where riders who are sponsored by different brands were still all travelling together, were the life of the party, forming this community sense that anyone could come up and talk and feel part of something and share the experience of being on the same track as the pros. We're going to lose that because they're now sticking to their team houses. They're staying far away from everybody. They're not interacting.

"You can't just say you're for community; you have to be for community.”

Team riders are more than just results

This, I think, is the crux of it: the lack of TV coverage. While the Traka and Unbound may have livestreams, you simply can’t consume the races in the same way as you can with the WorldTour. This means that, aside from a news article on the pages of Cyclingnews, the vast majority of the media consumed around the races is on social media. It’s about building narratives, storytelling, and having riders that are more compelling offerings than simply what they bring to the results sheet.

Haas, again, outlined to me that the riders selected for the SOG cabal are chosen based not only on their riding prowess, but also on how they conduct themselves, and hope that’s of benefit to the team beyond podium positions.

"If you're only focused on somebody winning a race, you're casting a very small net because how many people really resonate with actually coming to Traka it to win? People want to do their best, and we love that, right? But think about the 95% of people that's not even in their wheelhouse. It might not even be part of their personality traits to be that competitive, but it doesn't mean that these races and events aren't for them.

"Is it more important how you won, or how you experienced the event? By the very definition everyone who is paid to ride their bikes in gravel, their job is to make people resonate with the brands that they work with, so if you don’t have a strong personality, or [aren't] a strong storyteller or strong communicator, or even just somebody who’s really inspiring for their own reasons, if you're only focused on somebody winning a race, you're casting a very small net."

Protect the individual

Gravel will undoubtedly continue to professionalise. That’s the inevitable march of progress, but I was curious to see if there was anything that could be done to moderate the growing dominance of teams, particularly from the organisational standpoint. Havik had a few ideas.

"One thing for sure that’s important is that privateers always should get their space at the start line," he said. "What can happen is that if you only have 200 spots for the pro field, and the teams already know ahead of time which riders they are sending, they can start asking for start tickets in November when some privateers are still figuring things out.

"No wheel swapping between riders; that’s a very important one because a privateer cannot do it. Maybe a few more rules can be allowed so riders don’t wait for each other, and then maybe at a certain point you say OK, for some races there’s a maximum number of riders you can select because now, at the moment, it’s endless. If you show up with 20 riders from one team you can do it. It’s lucky there’s no team out there who can pay 20 riders, but that’s only a question of time and money before something like that shows up."

It does seem that some races have already cottoned on to this and are implementing measures to ensure fair competition for all, too, as Haas pointed out to me.

"You have the Belgian Waffle Ride series, where as soon as there's a lead group in the race, they have motorbikes behind that, and they give everyone gels and bidons, for if you can't afford to bring over a staff of three or four or five and have three or four or five vehicles that are stationed all across the trail, giving out bidons, spare wheels, etc.

At this point Ben Perry, who rode to fourth in the Traka 360, walked past the deck chair I was slumped in and stopped for a chat with Haas and me before allowing me to take his bike away for some photos, a neat encapsulation of gravel's community feel that many feel needs protecting as the sport inevitably marches onwards.

The first summit finish of any Grand Tour is a special occasion, such is the weight of expectation on the race's main contenders to deliver, and the potential for a shifting-sands moment in the overall standings.

The opening six stages of this year's Giro d'Italia have been brimming with chaos, frankly miserable weather at times, and, naturally, spectacular bike racing. All this before the first true mountain stage? We're truly being spoilt by a race that organisers love to brand as 'the toughest race in the world in the world's most beautiful place'.

However, if there was any doubt in this tagline, stage 7, which finished on the Blockhaus – the stage for Eddy Merckx's first-ever Grand Tour stage win in 1967 – was as good an example as any of the Giro living up to this marketing message by the bucketload.

As is often the case with a leg-sapping mountain finish, a prolonged calm eventually made way for the key GC contenders to take centre stage inside the final six kilometres, with Jonas Vingegaard (Visma-Lease a Bike) leading the charge.

The Dane would ultimately be too strong for his pink jersey rivals and arrive at the summit alone, but only just. The GC battle isn't over just yet.

To give you an insight into this first true high-altitude maglia rosa test, and what you might not have seen on TV, or via Cyclingnews' race report, we enlisted the help of seasoned cycling photographer Chris Auld to capture the day's dramatic events and scenery through his camera lens. Enjoy!

After yesterday's close call, Dylan Groenewegen was likely hoping for a day of recovery in the gruppetto.

There was a party atmosphere at the start in Formia ahead of the first mountain foray of the Giro. Here, a man plays a scetavajasse, a traditional Neapolitan percussion instrument.

Plenty of fans out, sporting their merchandise and happy to pose for our photographer, Chris.

Before the GC fight, formalities with local dignitaries.

You can never wear too much pink at the Giro, right?

There's something about this shot that feels very Neapolitan, maybe it's the facial expressions and passion towards the peloton as it prepares to depart Formia.

Two Tudor riders head to the start, ahead of the first real uphill challenge of this year's Corsa Rosa

A sea of colours, the technicoloured peloton rolls out of the coastal city and towards the mountains.

Wherever the Giro d'Italia goes, the legacy of Il Pirata is never far behind.

We might have already included one peloton-wide image, but to cycling fans, they're so easy on the eye that you can never have too many.

Going slower than it might look, Formia put out the balloons and all things pink for the Giro peloton

Two more Giro icons celebrated here, in 1986 and 1990 winners, Roberto Visentini and Gianni Bugno, respectively.

Netcompany-Ineos' Thymen Arensman guarded by teammate Jack Haig en route to the Blockhaus. The Dutchman is more than likely his team's lead GC hope now.

Neighbours of an apartment building come out to wave the riders by during the seventh stage of the Giro's 109th edition

The road sign to the Blockhaus, worn away by tourists' stickers and likely mountainous weather.

Tim Rex chaperones his Visma-Lease a Bike leader Jonas Vingegaard as he draws closer to his first major mountain test of the Italian Grand Tour.

Afonso Eulálio's wounds from his stage 5 crash are clear to see, but the maglia rosa still on his back will make the pain disappear for now.

Vingegaard is in full flight, inhaling the mountain air as he extends the gap between himself and his GC rivals.

Giulio Pellizzarri is joined by teammate Jai Hindley and his Western Australian compatriot Ben O'Connor as the slopes of the Blockhaus and Vingegaard's pace begin to take their effect.

Four of Movistar's squad power towards the mountain summit. The grey clouds rolled in on a handful of riders GC hopes today, and Enric Mas could be one of them, now six minutes behind Vingegaard.

Meanwhile, Felix Gall's GC hopes soared, as the Austrian came out of stage 7 as one of the few with positive vibes despite Vingegaard's mountaintop raid.

Eulálio displayed plenty of grinta to only give up three minutes of his lead to the Dane on stage 7.

Spare a thought for Diego Pablo Sevilla too, he was one point short of keeping hold of his King of the Mountains classification. No guesses for who will be targeting tomorrow's breakaway, though.

A swift punch in the air as he sealed the stage win. Vingegaard was in a clinical mood on the Blockhaus.

Back to the drawing board for Pellizzari. The home favourite lost 1:05 to the Dane on his first key GC test.

Hot drinks for the riders on arrival at the summit finish. No rider will be wanting to catch a cold during the first week of a Grand Tour.

This Netcompany-Ineos rider wrapping up in all the thermals for the ride back down the mountain to the team bus.

Former maglia rosa Giulio Ciccone rolled over the line in seventh, 1:40 behind Vingegaard.

A penny for the thoughts of Felix Gall after his resolute performance today. Will the Austrian's Grand Tour ambitions alter in the wake of this ride?

Eulálio will be confident of holding onto the pink jersey for at least another day, with a punchy finish into Fermo awaiting the bunch tomorrow.

An unknown rider bounces on the pedals as he nears the Blockhaus summit, all the while the light begins to fade.

The Dane passed his first maglia rosa test with flying colours, now there's only one colour on his mind.

Being a professional cyclist at the highest level and racing some of the biggest races in the world is a dream for many. For the lucky few who ride for WorldTour squads that we get to enjoy watching every year, this dream is a reality.

Riders race their bikes, deliver results or work hard for their teammates, get noticed by teams, and sign on the dotted line to ply their trade in any given squad for a few years. But what happens when that contract reaches its end and you haven’t been re-signed? What’s it like to be a pro cyclist without a contract? What happens to your bike and equipment? How do you earn money? Do you stop racing altogether or fight to keep the dream alive?

This is a situation some riders might never find themselves in, but many do every year, and there are several unexpected consequences and difficulties. It's a topic riders perhaps don't like to open up about much, preferring to focus on the search for a new team, or not wanting to lift the curtain on the tough reality of unemployment for an athlete.

When riders have opened up, the details are often surprising. Though he was later offered a contract after all, James Shaw was initially not renewed with EF Education-EasyPost last winter. He spoke in a YouTube video in December about losing access to things like subscription training apps and coaching resources at the end of the racing season, rather than the end of the year, leaving him in the lurch until he finally re-signed on December 1.

Other riders find themselves without even a bike to ride, having never owned their team-issue frame and without an actual bike of their own. Riders have to wear team kit and ride a team bike until December 31 of the year of their current contract, but many aspects of their employment are taken away sooner than that. They can be left floundering, trying to find a contract in January, February, March. Sometimes that happens, and a team comes along, yet sometimes the phone never rings.

In search of uncovering the reality for riders who are left without a team, I spoke to Sweden's Julia Borgström, who rode professionally for AG Insurance-Soudal from 2020 to 2025 – joining straight out of the junior ranks and staying there until she was 24. She competed at races like Paris-Roubaix, the World Championships, and the Tour de France Femmes, where she was a contender for the white jersey in 2022, and her career looked promising.

But in the spring of 2025, she learned through her agent that her contract wouldn’t be renewed and she didn’t have a place on the team in 2026.

"I got the answer in late spring, early summer, which is quite late, but I didn't ask them either. They were very clear that I didn't have a place on the team next year," she told me.

I asked Borgström if they gave her a reason for not offering a new contract. Her response was very pragmatic: "No. I don't blame them for it because I also understand that it's a business and they don't owe me an explanation. However, that doesn't take away that it's really, really hard. You put so much passion into developing something, and – even though they don't owe me anything – it's really hard because you just want to know what to do better."

At this point in her season, Borgström and her agent had already started speaking to other teams in search of another contract.

"I actually thought I had a good chance of moving elsewhere. But then I realised it was clear people wanted numbers. I could see my training was going well, but I hadn't done proper testing because I was busy trying to race. We started doing some tests again and could see that my numbers are getting there; they're not great, but they're still not bad."

Throughout 2023 and 2024, Borgström experienced RED-S (Relative Energy Deficiency in Sport), a condition caused by low energy availability, where athletes don’t consume sufficient calories to support their training, causing issues like reduced bone density, hormonal imbalances and fatigue. After a long and arduous period of treatment, recovery, and a return to normal training, she was able to continue racing. However, her results and training data didn’t accurately reflect her full potential as an athlete, which, in a competitive market, is a massive hurdle to overcome.

I asked her why she thought Pro-level or Continental teams didn’t offer her a ride, which is often the landing spot for riders who drop out of the WorldTour, but it isn't always as straightforward as it seems.

"I think people assume that you are a very demanding rider as a WorldTour rider coming down to a Conti team, but I was desperate to just keep on racing, so I think I would be the least demanding rider. Some people would have assumed that I had a conflict with AG, which I definitely didn't have."

The practicalities

One of the most coveted parts of being a pro cyclist is the equipment. Multiple bikes and all the equipment you could ask for is the dream for any bike rider. But when a contract reaches its end, what happens to it all?

Borgström continued to be employed by AG Insurance-Soudal until December 31, 2025, two and a half months after her final race with the team. Pro riders typically don’t travel to races with bikes, as these are moved around by the team, and keep a training bike at home. But even though contracts last until the end of December, teams often try to recall equipment earlier than that.

"This team asked for all bikes and even some helmets and wheels to be returned. I pushed to be allowed to keep my training bike until the end of the year, and they agreed on me sending it back by mail. It turns out it's really hard from Sweden to Belgium, so it got bounced back a couple of times, but now it is with the team," Borgström explained.

With her AG Insurance-Soudal spec bikes returned to the team’s service course, she had to bite the bullet and invest in her own race machine to continue riding. "I got really, really good help from a bike shop and a few people I know. I got the best price you absolutely can get, but I have paid for the bike."

It’s not uncommon for riders to sell or donate their clothing and spare equipment from previous seasons to clear out space for new kit, and I wondered if Borgström had used this to generate some income.

"According to my contract, they can ask for everything back. Usually they don't want old clothes and stuff like that back, but they could ask in theory. I tried to donate as much as possible to people that need it," she said.

What to do next

Despite no longer having a pro contract at only 24, Borgström clearly still had a real passion for racing her bike. Towards the end of 2025, she was offered a ride on a club-level team in Belgium, Kassein Feits Huis. Belgian law stipulates that club-level teams cannot pay their riders, so she was racing without a salary.

"My savings account is taking a big hit," she said. "I was preparing myself to close the chapter of racing. I got over the shame, and then I realised that the only thing that's left is just being sad because I wasn't allowed to race my bike anymore. That was where Jess and Jake called [owners/managers of Kassein Feits Huis]."

From the outside, the step down from the WorldTour to a club-level team appears severe, but Borgström was humble and honest in her outlook.

"At first I thought, 'No, I can't, I can't do that. I cannot go to a team house anymore. That chapter is done.' And then every time I spoke to them, I just had this really, really good feeling in my gut. It was the first time I’d spoken to someone in so long and felt like I really wanted to race for them."

Although she wouldn’t be receiving payment, she was presented with an opportunity to keep racing.

"I had a chat with my partner, and I looked at how long I can survive out of my savings. How much could we actually do? We realised that I can get one season out of my savings. We decided that we will give it one more year and see what happens."

She spent the start of 2026 splitting her time between Meulebeke in Belgium, where the team is based, and her home in Sweden, paying for all her own flights and travel and coming across for a month or so at a time to compete in kermesse races, and the occasional UCI race against her former colleagues.

Borgström was still represented by The Team, formerly Wasserman – the same agency that manages the likes of Julian Alaphilippe, Lotte Kopecky, and dozens more top-level riders – in the hope that, through consistent racing on the Belgian circuit, she could find a space on a UCI team once more - a hope that’s backed by her contract at Kassein. "As long as it’s a move to a team at a level higher than this, I can break my contract if I’m offered one elsewhere."

As it turned out, that chance came along soon after our conversation. Borgström was offered a contract with Norwegian high-level Continental outfit Hitec Products-Fluid Control, based in her native Scandinavia, and she officially joined their ranks on Tuesday. It's not quite a return to the WorldTour, but it will give her opportunities to race higher-level races and access to equipment and resources that she doesn't have to pay for herself.

Despite this chance, and a contract for the rest of 2026, when we spoke, Borgström was still thinking ahead to the future and the possibility of a life without bike racing, having come face to face with the precarity of this sport once already.

"I am studying a little bit to get my grades up to apply for university. It's not taking away any time from my cycling, so the training I do is actually the same as I would have done if I was still a WorldTour pro," she explained.

"In Sweden, you get paid to study, or you can take a loan, so studying means a really, really small income, which is also why I'm hoping to get into a university at the end of the season, because that will also mean that I have a small salary. I'm really trying to get some money in as well, but getting prize money is proving to be a bit harder than I thought."

The difference mindset makes

Borgström's passion for racing remains, and it’s clear that – despite the financial challenges – her heart is set on the road, whilst some other athletes are turning to gravel racing and the privateer lifestyle.

"I was a bit naive in searching for sponsors because I was really hoping to get on a Conti team or something right up until the last minute at the end of 2025, and I didn't want to bring on a sponsor and then have to cancel it later if it conflicted with a potential team sponsor," she explained.

"I've done one gravel race, and I really loved that. But comparing how much I love road racing to how fun it is racing the gravel, I really want to race road. For me, the cool thing about cycling is the tactics and understanding the game, and positioning in the bunch is one of my traits that I actually am quite proud of. Road is where my big passion in cycling lies."

However, in a bittersweet twist of fate, the acceleration in growth of women’s cycling could be more of a hindrance than a help for riders who find themselves in Borgström's situation.

"I think women's cycling is growing so fast that if you struggle with your health or if you have a problem, no one can wait for you," she said.

Two things really struck me throughout my conversation with Borgström. Firstly, her incredibly calm, pragmatic demeanour about the realities of being left without a job and the struggle of trying to forge a career in bike racing with the odds stacked against her. She was incredibly professional with how she approached the situation, which is a testament to her quality as a pro rider.

Secondly, her obvious passion for racing and ability to still find joy in the sport that would have left others jaded and maybe even bitter were they in her shoes. It's probably down to this outlook and determination that she was able to do what all free agents are trying to do: find a new team, no matter how late in the season.

"It's really cool to be in races having no clue what I'm doing anymore and trying to figure that out together with my teammates. It's also really scary because I know how to race a WorldTour or a UCI race, but I have no idea how to race an interclub or a kermesse," she said.

"It's quite inspiring to be reminded of the early days of elite racing where you didn't know how to race, and you learned. I think mentally for me it's been really important to focus on where I am at the moment and trying to see it as I'm here for this one year. If something else happens, we will take it when that comes – but that's not a problem for now."

Professional cycling finds itself in a fairly unique situation when it comes to environmental sustainability. There are no stadiums to power, no pitches to maintain and the bicycle itself is increasingly promoted as a method of low-carbon mobility. Yet the reality of the modern WorldTour, with its sprawling logistics, global calendar and a continued reliance on sponsorship linked to fossil fuels, tells a more complicated story.

Race organisers are facing growing scrutiny. Pressure is coming from multiple directions: governing bodies' targets, teams working towards net-zero commitments, and a fanbase that is increasingly aware of their sport's environmental impact. For much of its recent history, the professional side of cycling has leaned on its obvious connection to cycling as a low-carbon activity. That position is becoming harder to defend.

As other sports begin to make more coordinated progress, not only in reducing emissions but in influencing fan lifestyle behaviours, Cyclingnews explores what professional race organisers are doing today and what they could learn from other sporting events.

What is being done already?

One of the most visible and measurable shifts across professional cycling has come through the electrification of the race convoy. The sheer number of vehicles following a WorldTour race has long been one of its defining images and increasingly, one of its most scrutinised.

The clearest benchmark is the Arctic Race of Norway, which has emerged as a testbed for what electrified race logistics might look like. Since 2023, the race has operated with a fully electric fleet of support vehicles, covering everything from team cars to race officials. Around 120 to 130 electric vehicles are deployed, supported by temporary charging infrastructure that travels with the event.

Crucially, the organiser provides teams with these vehicles. That not only ensures consistency across the fleet but also removes the need to transport team cars into what is, geographically, one of the more remote races on the calendar. It is a small but significant intervention that highlights the influence organisers can exert when they control the logistics.

There are caveats. The model relies on sufficient charging infrastructure and on ensuring that electricity supply does not simply shift emissions elsewhere through diesel-powered generators. According to a recent report, 95.9% of all new Norwegian passenger cars bought in 2025 were electric and therefore, Norway's position as a global leader in electric vehicle adoption gives the race a natural advantage. However, expanding charging networks across Europe suggests this model may become easier to replicate in the coming years.

Elsewhere, progress has been more incremental. Many of the sport's biggest races, including all three Grand Tours, have introduced a mix of electric and hybrid vehicles through manufacturer partnerships. But details remain vague, making it difficult to assess how far the transition has really gone.

For now, hybridisation appears to be a stepping stone rather than an end point. As fully electric vehicles become more viable across longer distances, the expectation is that combustion engines will gradually be phased out. The pace of that transition, however, remains uncertain.

Another element that organisers have within their control is the distance race routes cover and the length of transfers during stage races. The Tour de Suisse is one of the more progressive events in this area. Organisers have explored shorter stages and a more compact format, alongside plans to align men's and women's events. The logic is straightforward with fewer transfers, shared infrastructure and less duplication. It is a relatively simple adjustment and not environmentally motivated per se, but one that points towards a more efficient model.

Elsewhere, similar efficiencies already exist. Many of the sport's biggest one-day races, from Paris–Roubaix to Strade Bianche, effectively share infrastructure across men's and women's events. Whether driven by logistics, cost or broadcast considerations, the environmental benefits are a by-product rather than the primary aim.

At the other end of the spectrum sit the Grand Tours. Their global reach, from foreign Grand Départs - highlighted in the last week by the Giro d'Italia's Bulgarian start - to increasingly extreme stage locations, remains central to their appeal, but also raises questions. Long transfers are a routine part of modern stage racing, and while teams are restricted in how they move between stages, it is not uncommon for support staff, equipment and race infrastructure to rely on air travel.

There is also a growing conversation around where races take place. Mountain stages often produce many of a stage race's defining images, but they can take place in environmentally sensitive regions. Research into the impact of large-scale sporting events in alpine areas has highlighted pressures on fragile ecosystems, particularly when large numbers of spectators travel to remote locations. Race organisers have made efforts to mitigate this by creating green zones for riders, deploying clean-up crews once the race has passed, and imposing restrictions on vehicle access, but the tension remains.

A middle ground may be possible in most situations. Few would push for the removal of iconic summit finishes, but there is scope to rethink how spectators access them. Transport hubs in nearby towns or cities could act as gateways, with public transport provision helping limit the number of vehicles on sensitive climbs. Other sports have experimented with offering free public transport to ticket holders, such as both of the most recent men's and women's UEFA Euro 2024 & 2025 tournaments; although road cycling's free-to-attend roadside model makes this more challenging. Without ticketing, any incentive scheme would need to be free to all on the day.

Beyond individual races, the structure of the calendar itself comes into focus. On paper, cycling already follows a loose geographic flow: early-season racing in Australia and the Middle East, a European core through spring and summer, before a shift towards North America and Asia later in the year. In practice, however, teams often criss-cross continents in search of ranking points, especially those sitting below WorldTour level. This is less an issue for individual organisers than for the sport's governing structure. A more coordinated calendar could reduce travel demands significantly. Other sports have begun to move in this direction. In motorsport, recent calendar reforms in Formula One have grouped races into regional blocks; while Extreme E has gone as far as using its own dedicated ship, the St. Helena, to transport the cars, equipment and series infrastructure by sea from round to round.

Cycling's greatest power (and responsibility?)

Whilst race organisers can influence how events are run, their greatest impact may lie elsewhere, in how they influence people to travel in their everyday lives.

Few sports are as closely tied to a real-world solution as cycling. The same machine used in competition is also one of the most accessible forms of low-carbon transport. The opportunity, then, is obvious. To use the platform of professional racing to shift everyday behaviour.

The 2023 UCI Cycling World Championships offered a glimpse of what that might look like in practice. In the build-up, organisers developed a 'Power of the Bike' strategy that positioned the event as more than elite sport, with a clear focus on participation and everyday cycling. The results were notable. Post-event data suggested that 82 per cent of visitors travelled via active modes, while 79 per cent of surveyed Scottish residents said they intended to cycle more.

It is a rare example of a cycling event measuring its influence beyond the race itself. Without clear targets or data, it becomes difficult to separate genuine impact from well-intentioned messaging. Glasgow 2023 demonstrated a more deliberate approach, one that could be replicated elsewhere and embedded into event strategies, key performance indicators and even sponsor agreements.

For a sport built around the bicycle, the potential reach is enormous. The question is whether organisers are prepared to treat behavioural change not as a by-product of racing, but as a central objective.

Turning fans into participants

Other sports have begun to move beyond simply reducing their own footprint and are instead focusing on influencing their audiences' behaviour. Football has started to treat fans not just as spectators, but as participants in climate action.

Initiatives such as Green Football Weekend are built around that idea. Supporters are encouraged to make practical changes, from how they travel to what they eat, with their actions tracked and converted into measurable impact. Fans effectively compete on behalf of their clubs, earning points and climbing league tables, often with incentives such as match tickets, a signed shirt or other prizes.

The model taps into both competition and collective identity. It has also attracted coverage and attention from TNT and Sky Sports, albeit not without criticism. Questions around greenwashing persist, and the long-term impact of such campaigns is difficult to quantify. Even so, the shift in approach is commendable.

Cycling, arguably, is better placed than most to adopt a similar model. Spectators are already embedded within the landscape of the race, often arriving on foot or by bike. Yet there is little in the way of coordinated, large-scale activation. The opportunity is there, but largely untapped.

Making sustainability part of the competition

Sailing offers a different, but equally pioneering, example. SailGP has introduced an 'Impact League' that runs alongside its racing series, embedding sustainability directly into the competitive structure.

Teams are awarded points based on a range of criteria, including emissions reduction, waste management and community engagement. Performances are independently assessed and publicly ranked, with prize money and prestige up for grabs. While separate from the racing standings, the system creates a clear incentive for teams to consider environmental sustainability seriously.

The principle is transferable. A framework that rewards measurable environmental progress, whether through UCI points, prize money or rankings, would mark a significant shift from the current approach largely reliant upon morality.

The sponsorship question

Professional cycling continues to rely heavily on partners with links to fossil fuels. Seven teams in the 2025 Tour de France were sponsored by companies or nation-states tied to fossil fuel production. The race's organisers, ASO, entered a partnership with TotalEnergies for the 2026 edition, a company whose annual carbon emissions are roughly equivalent to those of the entire United Kingdom. The contradiction is difficult to ignore. A sport centred on the bicycle, often framed as a solution to low-carbon transport, remains financially tied to some of the world's worst polluters.

Cycling, like many other sports, finds itself in a tricky situation. Accept the fossil fuel sponsorship money and continue the status quo, or pass it up and risk not being able to find another willing sponsor. Australian gas giant Santos has seen its title sponsorship of the Tour Down Under come under fire in recent months, but this criticism appears to have been brushed aside. In contrast, Tennis Australia ended its sponsorship agreement with the fossil fuel company in 2022 after just one year as a result of a targeted anti-sportswashing campaign on social media. Likewise, in a similar vein, ExxonMobil were reportedly turned down by the English Rugby Union to the tune of £2.5m. Some may read this and wonder why British Cycling didn't do the same when it came to entering a long-term partnership with Shell in 2023. These decisions remain the exception rather than the rule, but they point to a shifting landscape.

The bike is a clear climate solution, but the authenticity of this message quickly collapses if the sponsors and their values contradict this. It is difficult to promote cycling as sustainable mobility when sponsorship values appear to pull in the opposite direction.

Where does all this leave us?

It is fair to question whether it is the responsibility of race organisers to drive this change in the first place. The UCI has set emissions reduction targets for both itself and WorldTour teams, but events have avoided the same level of scrutiny. The largest organisers, like ASO, will soon be, or are already, required to measure and disclose their emissions by European legislation, albeit yet to be required by law to reduce emissions.

However, events are already being affected by the climate crisis. The Santos Tour Down Under is very much the proverbial canary in the cage, with extreme heat and wildfire risk regularly shaping the race and forcing stage modifications, as it did this year with the removal of Willunga Hill on Stage 4. Similarly, an academic study published earlier this year concluded that dangerous heat for the Tour de France is only a matter of time, as summers in Europe grow hotter. It's not just the heat that races will need to worry about, either. More extreme and unpredictable wind, rain and snowfall can jeopardise the safe passage of races at worst and, at best, make it a miserable day out for spectators and riders alike.

In that context, the role of organisers becomes harder to ignore. Events sit at the centre of the sport. They are its most visible expression and, in many cases, the point at which its environmental impact is most concentrated. While teams, governing bodies and sponsors all have a role to play, organisers retain significant control over logistics, route design and delivery.

There is also an opportunity. Few sports are as closely linked to a well-known climate solution as cycling. That gives its events a chance not only to reduce their own impact, but to influence behaviour more widely. Whether they choose to take this opportunity may help define the sport's trajectory in the years ahead.

The Giro d'Italia is far more than a bike race. It's a three-week celebration of cycling that showcases Italy's beauty and culture better than a plate of pasta, an Aperol spritz, or an Armani fashion show.

The 21 stages of the Corsa Rosa visit every corner and highlight every geographical detail of the 'Bel Paese.' The Giro covers the barren but beautiful roads of the south, climbs into the steep central Apennine hills, skirts the long coastlines, passes through historical towns and villages, and then high into the mountains in the third and decisive week of racing.

Race organiser RCS Sport loves to describe the Giro as 'The toughest race in the world in the world’s most beautiful place'. It is a marketing spin, but it also evokes the Giro's unique beauty. There is nothing like seeing the peloton ride through the snow-covered Dolomites, contest a sprint around the Bay of Naples or celebrate reaching the finish in Rome with laps of the Colosseum.

The Giro marks time as the Italian spring gradually becomes summer. Fields grow green, pollen fills the air, and red poppies invade the roadside. Italians traditionally change their wardrobe in May, swapping winter clothes for summer attire. Pink polo shirts and dresses are seen out on the streets as the colour of the maglia rosa, and La Gazzetta dello Sport inspire a new seasonal trend and celebrates the race.

Local authorities pay to host stage starts and finishes, and so encourage local businesses to get involved. Quiet piazzas are decorated with pink balloons and bunting. Shop windows are filled with old bikes, jerseys and anything pink. Pizzeria and restaurants create special dishes, and bars try to cash in on the sense of celebration with Giro-flavoured cocktails and gelato.

The simple joys of Italian life are easy to see when the Giro comes to town.

"Legendary Italian journalist Indro Montanelli wrote that 'The Giro has the power to transform every day into a Sunday.' He's right," La Gazzetta's chief cycling correspondent Ciro Scognamiglio tells Cyclingnews.

"The Giro unifies Italy during May, offers a great sporting battle and makes us briefly proud to be Italian. When the Giro comes to town, it's a day of celebration, and millions of people still watch the race go by from the roadside. School is out for the day, and factory workers are given a break to watch the race go by. It's a moment of aggregation and community."

For Giro d'Italia organiser RCS Sport, the Corsa Rosa is also big business.

Like the Tour de France, the Giro d'Italia was created to sell newspapers and advertising and is still part of the influential RCS Media Group, which owns La Gazzetta dello Sport, other media titles and Italy's third most important television broadcaster, La7. Urbano Cairo, who learned about the media business as Silvio Berlusconi's personal assistant, has been the majority shareholder and CEO since 2016.

Like ASO and the Amaury family, who own the Tour, RCS Sport taps into national pride and uses political connections to prop up their money-making sports business. RCS Sport generates just a small percentage of RCS Media Group's revenue, but it is a strategic asset, with a turnover of €80 million and around €22 million in profit.

RCS Sport organises Milan-San Remo, Il Lombardia, the UAE Tour and other races, but most of its revenue is made in May thanks to television rights, stage hosts, and sponsors. While the Tour de France revenue is much higher at close to €250 million, RCS Sport has been deft at controlling costs and earning extra revenue since Urbano Cairo took over.

The 2026 Giro d'Italia will start in Bulgaria, a year after the Grande Partenza in Albania. Recent elections in Bulgaria have disrupted the preparations for hosting the Giro, and the teams asked for higher expenses due to another logistically complex start to the race, but RCS Sport has shrugged off any criticism. It's just happy to earn an estimated €10 million for the Grande Partenza and three stages in Bulgaria.

Entwined in Italian history

The Giro is entwined in Italian history, making cycling part of the history of the nation, its culture and its people.

The first edition was held in 1909, just 48 years after key regions were united to create Italy. This year's Giro is the 109th edition, with only the two world wars putting a stop to the race's running.

The history and events of the Giro d'Italia have been coloured and reported by the pink pages of the La Gazzetta dello Sport newspaper. Created in 1896, La Gazzetta built on the success of two cycling newspapers and launched just a few days before the first modern Olympic Games were held in Athens, Greece. In 1908, a rival newspaper was about to create an Italian cycling stage race, and so the Gazzetta owners and editors moved quickly and announced the creation of the Giro d'Italia for May 1909.

They didn't have the funding or an official route, but announced the race would cover 3,000km over eight stages and head as far south as Naples. Luigi Ganna emerged as the first overall winner, calculated on points rather than overall time, despite a series of punctures and misfortunes. He snatched victory on the final day in Milan thanks to a level crossing delaying his rivals and a horse taking out key rival Giovanni Rossignoli.

Over the years, great rivalries fired up the Italian tifosi during the Giro, helping to build the history of the race and sell hundreds of thousands of copies of La Gazzetta.

Costante Girardengo versus Alfredo Binda in the 1920s, Gino Bartali and Fausto Coppi crossed swords before and especially after World War II. The 1946 Giro was a symbol of the Italian 'rinascita' or return to life, a year after liberation from the Nazis, a year after fascist dictator Benito Mussolini was hung in Milan's Piazza Loreto, near where stage 15 finishes this year.

The Bartali-Coppi duel of those years was one for the ages, with Bartali representing the Catholic conservatives and Coppi the modernisation of the nation. They inspired a cycling boom for a generation, with Felice Gimondi later cheered on as he took on Eddy Merckx in the late sixties. The tifosi again took cultural sides in the daily discussions as Giuseppe Saronni clashed with Francesco Moser in the late seventies and eighties. Saronni was the Lombardy-born big-city sprinter, while Moser was the son of a farmer from the Trentino mountains. Cycling has always represented more than just sport.

Marco Pantani first became the tifosi's hero in 1994, and peak 'Pirata' came in 1998 when Pantani won the Giro and the Tour, as bandanas and pirate flags were seen along every stage. It was the pinnacle of Italian cycling, with Pantani still remembered and evoked with 'rosa' tinted spectacles even today.

The Giro lost its air of innocence in the EPO-fueled 1990s, just like the Tour de France and the rest of the sport. In 1969, Eddy Merckx was sent home but largely forgiven for mysteriously testing positive for a stimulant, but the 1998 Festina Affair was a watershed moment. Pantani was considered a saviour in Paris, but his Icarus-like career arc ended a year later when he was disqualified from the 1999 Giro for a high blood haematocrit. He died of a cocaine overdose in 2004.

Other doping scandals followed as the Giro struggled for credibility. The 2001 race almost ended in San Remo after a mass search of team hotels. Other riders, including Ivan Basso and Danilo Di Luca, were suspended and disgraced before the likes of Alberto Contador, Chris Froome, Tao Geoghegan Hart, Egan Bernal, Primož Roglič and most recently Simon Yates won the maglia rosa.

The Giro director was once as famous as the Pope

La Gazzetta dello Sport officially registered the name 'Giro d'Italia' in 1922 and has made money from the sport ever since.

Highlights of the Giro were broadcast on Italian television as early as 1957, further boosting the fascination and visibility of the race. In 1953, non-sporting brands were allowed to sponsor teams, and Nivea sparked another business revolution in professional cycling when they sponsored Fiorenzo Magni's team. Other Italian industrialists and companies followed, with San Pellegrino, Carpano, Faema, Molteni, Salvarani, Scic, Sanson, Brooklyn, Del Tongo, Carrera, Polti, Mercatone Uno, Mapei, Saeco, Lampre and Fassa Bortolo all becoming long-time sponsors to promote their wares.

Armando Cougnet was the first race director of the Giro d'Italia between 1909 and 1947, with Vincenzo Torriani holding another long reign until 1993. He was followed by Carmine Castellano, briefly by former La Gazzetta journalist Angelo Zomegnan, innovator Michele Acquarone and then Mauro Vegni.

Torriani is remembered as the greatest 'Direttore', the real boss of the race, who struck deals with local mayors and politicians to host stages, with teams, riders and sponsors to make sure the Giro turned a profit. Torriani was famous for furiously waving his arms at riders, the tifosi and anyone who got in the way of the Giro from the sunroof of his race car; a cigarette was often hanging from his mouth, and his anger was expressed by Italian hand gestures.

The riders and teams would get their revenge when their domestiques ransacked a bar for drinks and rode away without paying the bill, shouting "Torriani will pay". Some bar owners even tried to invoice the Giro organisers, but Torriani, smart to the last, never paid up.

"Torriani was Napoleon, and he conquered Italy each May with the Giro d'Italia," respected former La Gazzetta journalist Claudio Gregori wrote on the 20th anniversary of his death.

"The Gazzetta editor Gino Palumbo once wrote that every Italian was able to recognise two people: the Pope and Vincenzo Torriani. It's true, Torriani was an icon of Italy. He knew how to build relationships and balance the books; he was full of ideas and courage, never scared or fearful of the consequences of his actions."

Torriani brimmed with Italian creativity and used the rivalry with the Tour de France to often shake up the Giro and innovate race formats. He is said to have invented the team time trial, mountain time trials, time bonuses and extreme mountain top finishes. During his years in charge, the riders were sent up the Stelvio, Monte Bondone and the Passo di Gavia in the snow. The riders often protested, as they still do today, but Torriani could count on the protection and influence of the editors and owners of La Gazzetta dello Sport.

The 1978 Giro started in Venice, with the opening stage raced on pontoons and finished in Saint Mark's Square. Nine years later, the Giro started in San Remo with one of the early stages, a time trial descent of the Poggio. Other stages finished in central Siena, like Strade Bianche does today, below the Leaning Tower of Pisa, inside the Verona Arena and at the Vatican. Torriani introduced the first 'Grande Partenza' from outside of Italy, and so the 1973 race started in Belgium and passed through seven countries to celebrate the creation of the European Union.

The true value of the Giro d'Italia

RCS Sport has learned that an Italian Grande Partenza generates far less revenue, and so the Giro has started abroad 15 times since the San Marino micro-state hosted the start in 1965. RCS Sport has tested the logistical limits of Grand Tour starts more and more in recent years, with Grande Partenzas as far away as Belgium, Denmark, Amsterdam, Ireland and even Israel in 2018. A Washington DC and New York Grand Depart was once discussed, with even an idea of starting in Japan briefly considered.

The Italian investment bank Ifis produced a report suggesting that the 2023 Giro d’Italia generated direct and indirect revenue of €2 billion. €605 million was said to derive from spectators attending the Corsa Rosa during the three weeks of the race, and a further €1.4 billion, based on the calculation of tourism spending by those who return or travel to Italy within 18 months after seeing the Giro d’Italia. Those calculations are somewhat theoretical, like declaring pizza as an asset against the huge Italian national debt, but they do indicate the intrinsic value of the Giro and its symbolism for the country.

In recent years, RCS Sport has cuddled up to the right-wing politicians currently in power in Italy to secure funding and sponsorship from state-owned agencies. The Italian Foreign Ministry has declared the Giro as an official global sports ambassador, using the race for 'sports diplomacy' and to promote the country. The cyclamen-coloured points jersey is again sponsored by the Italian Trade Agency.

RCS Sport moved the Giro finish from its home city of Milan to Rome in 2023 to earn a reported extra €1.5 million a year, and is always looking to cut costs and increase revenues. Even a fraud and internal financial misappropriation scandal had little effect on RCS Sport. A reported €17 million was said to have been taken from event accounts between 2006 and 2013, but only an internal accountant was found guilty, and little of the funds were ever recovered. Race director Michele Acquarone was sacked by RCS management but was later cleared in court.

RCS Sport flirted with the idea of joining the One Cycling project aimed at shaking up pro cycling's business model, with reports that their races could be sold to investors, perhaps even from the Middle East. However, Urbano Cairo knows how to run a business and knows the political, cultural and economic value of the Giro.

"Sell RCS Sport? No way. I'm not crazy…" he told Cyclingnews a few years ago, ever the salesman.

"I hope the Giro d'Italia can return to being the great race it was back in the 1970s. In every way, especially economically, so that we can invest and make it even bigger and better. It's got to get back to the level of the Tour de France."

As Cyclingnews sits with Giulio Pellizzari in the sunshine outside Red Bull’s Innsbruck hotel on the eve of the Tour of the Alps, a group of children - autograph hunters - come back three times during our interview. "I am a big fan," one assures him. Five minutes later, another gives him a drawing of a yellow flower with 'danke schön' written beneath it.

Everyone seems to love Italy’s cycling champion-in-waiting. The race ends as it started, with young fans clamouring for mementos from the 22-year-old. "Giulio! Giulio! Giulio, per favore!" The cries echo beneath one of Trento’s churches as the race leader prepares to take on the Tour of the Alps’ fifth and final stage.

He signs a Red Bull cap and reaches over to put his signature on a green Tour of the Alps flag. It is the race’s decisive day, and he is in a position he has never been in before as a pro cyclist – defending a lead, one of four seconds to Ineos Grenadiers duo Thymen Arensman and Egan Bernal.

His Red Bull-Bora-Hansgrohe team had talked about the possibility of bonus seconds coming into the equation in their internal pre-race plan, but the man from Le Marche had other intentions. "In my mind, I just wanted to drop everybody and arrive alone at the finish," he said afterwards.

Job done, with his high cadence, pulling away from Bernal and Arensman in the final kilometres of the Montoppio climb and doubling his 15-second advantage on the descent to the finish at Bolzano.

Pellizzari started the week at the Tour of the Alps as a favourite and finished with two stage victories and his first professional stage race win, possibly the first of many, won in exciting fashion, à la pedale.

More than a confidence boost, it is also an important last step towards his confirmation as a stage race leader on a team brimming with them.

"Last year, I was just a helper, and I started the race always thinking 'I hope I will perform'. This morning, I had no choice, I had to perform," Pellizzari tells Cyclingnews in the race's final press conference. "And this makes a lot of difference. Now I'm understanding what it means to be the leader. When you have one big team like Red Bull working for you, you cannot just say, 'I don't have the legs.' You have to give a lot, and I'm learning this."

If the Tour of the Alps was a dress rehearsal for the 2026 Giro d’Italia, it was passed with flying colours. Not off the podium in his three stage races this year, Pellizzari's star continues to rise. With João Almeida and Richard Carapaz both set to miss the year’s first Grand Tour, he is the second favourite with most bookmakers.

With his Alpine masterclass, the 'Duke of Camerino' has arrived, a serious pretender to the crowns of Tadej Pogačar and Jonas Vingegaard – and a possible successor to Vincenzo Nibali.

What's in a nickname, then? Every great Italian cyclist is given a moniker, and most of them belong in a menagerie: Fausto Coppi was 'The Heron', Nibali 'The Shark', Paolo Bettini 'The Cricket'. Pellizzari has been anointed with something more regal. "I prefer that to the animals," he says.

Devised by Italian commentator Luca Gregorio at the 2025 Vuelta, it connects to his background. Pellizzari grew up in Italy's central Le Marche region, his hilltop hometown of Camerino devastated by a 2016 earthquake. It has a rich, proud history as the ancient capital of the Duchy of Da Varano. Every May sees a festival, complete with a Renaissance costume parade and a foot race where town suburbs compete for a sword. "Unfortunately, I won't be attending this year because I'll be at the Giro," Pellizzari adds.

He lined up at the Tour of the Alps, his first race in a month after doing altitude training on Mount Teide, not 100% confident in his form and unsure how his legs would fare.

As it happens, he had little cause for fear. He was at the front, as he has been at his other stage races this season. Alongside his third places at the Volta Valenciana and Tirreno-Adriatico, it appears that he has taken another step up, physically and mentally, since finishing sixth in the 2025 Vuelta.

"I changed. I think I grew up," Pellizzari says. "I'm still young, last year was a really hard season, and I had a lot of recovery in the off-season, almost five weeks [off the bike]. I took on all the work we did last year."

There is not just one factor behind his improvement, but several. "Everything: the materials made a lot of difference, but also the food, the training," he says. Working with coach and ex-pro Sylwester Szmyd, he is incidentally onto his third coach in as many years, having previously collaborated with Leonardo Piepoli and Paolo Artuso.

"I changed training a lot from last year, maybe that made a difference, but I don't know if I can say what [I changed]. Maybe I just grew up. These two Grand Tours made a difference when I started [this season]," he says, referring to his Giro and Vuelta showings in 2025.

Looking back twelve months to his Grand Tour breakthrough, his big memory was the gravel stage finishing in Siena, albeit not the race itself. "The stage went really shit because Primož crashed and had a flat tyre a few times, so we lost almost three minutes to [Isaac] del Toro. But after, we stopped in a gas station and had some beers – the next day was a rest day, so we could do that – and then Primož said, 'We are still here, and we will fight until the end.' I think this was the most important day in the Giro for me."

The plan had been to help Roglič to victory, yet Pellizzari emerged in sixth place himself, finishing in the same group as Del Toro and Carapaz on the decisive stage 20 to Sestriere to move up a place overall.

"I think it was unexpected when I started the race. From June 1 last year, when the Giro finished, I started to think about the next one because I already wanted to come back for more," he says.

His leadership lessons continued at the Vuelta. Pellizzari went into it going for a stage victory and switched objectives for GC after ending up in the front group after the first week.

"It was a bit not a real goal. And when I won the stage [at El Morredero], from there, my shape went down. Maybe my mind more," he says. "Of course I wanted to take the white jersey [of best young rider], but maybe mentally, the job was already done."

It also led Pellizzari to a realisation that what he does is never good enough for some people. The climber made the mistake of going on Facebook and reading negative comments after he dropped a place to sixth on stage 20, three days after his stage win. In one fell swoop, he was no longer the next Nibali to some.

"Everybody is ready to give you shit. Today, you win, you are the idol; one day after you lose, you are the shittest rider in the world," he says. "I shouldn't have read, but I'm too curious: 'We don't have an Italian who is good two days in a row'. I understand how it works from that." Pellizzari adds that this won't be a problem at the Giro because he will turn off his social media.

After sixth at the Giro and Vuelta, there is still pro cycling's blue riband race to sample. "Of course, I would like to race the Tour de France. When I was a kid, it was always my dream to win it. It would be nice to race, but I want to go there when I'll be really ready to race it and enjoy it," he says.

Who or what decides that? "Me. And then I will ask the team and see if they say yes or no. But I would like to do it a bit like Lipowitz: first Tour, finish on the podium," he says.

First things first: winning a stage race as a pro. After the Tour of the Alps, Pellizzari tells Cyclingnews that it is the first time in his life that he has achieved that – not even as a junior racer or before that.

As a youngster, it was difficult to imagine him reaching such heights. "I was born at the end of the year [November 2003], and I was always smaller than the others," he says.

"When you're 13, 14 years old, this makes the difference. Also, because all the races were flat, it was harder; I was always dropped. I grew up, got taller and heavier, and when I started to be good, I could race strongly in the mountains."

Pellizzari liked to attack from far out on the climbs. He remembers winning the 2019 Gran Premio Mocaiana, a small race in Gubbio, for his third victory as a junior. Alone in front and about to be caught, he accelerated on a two-kilometre kicker to open a gap to the chaser and won by 25 seconds in front of his parents.

They were simpler times. When his dad bought him a €2,000 Canyon as a junior, Pellizzari already felt it was too much – also given the risk of crashing and breaking it.

"Not only me but everybody was more chill," Pellizzari says. "I think my process was perfect because when I was a junior, I had a normal bike, I did normal training.

"Then I went to Bardiani [turning pro in 2022], it was already a ProTeam, but it did not have the best materials. I think it's the best because every year it was something more for me, every year I was excited. Now, you see juniors with bikes like ours. When they turn pro, it's the same for them: nothing is changing. It's important to have your feet on the ground."

Pellizzari certainly still does. He impressed with his down-to-earth nature around the public and press at the Tour of the Alps. The kid who stood as a tifoso on Monte Grappa as eventual winner Nairo Quintana passed by him in the 2014 Giro still relates to the fans. If he can sign an autograph at the start, he will. Wearing a ready smile, he radiates positive energy.

"I think I am quite balanced with life and sport. I am not too serious and not only joking," Pellizzari says. "When I have to do the right things, I do them. I want to enjoy myself, I want to believe there is a life outside of cycling. That's the most important thing – because we cannot race until we're 43 years old like Pozzovivo. I will stop before then, for sure."

He does not block out the media: before the press conference in Trento after stage four, he delves into his bag for his post-race tupperware meal and cheerfully says that it is rice and chicken. At another of his leader's press conferences, although there is a translator on hand daily, he cheerfully does the work himself, switching into Italian after giving an English answer. His authenticity and friendly nature are a refreshing change to the norm.

One journalist remarked on how easygoing he is, asking whether he enjoyed being there and talking to the media, as it appeared to be the case.

"So far, yes. Winning is always good, and it's a way to relax and relieve the tension with people outside of the team who you don't spend all day with. Maybe I still like it because I'm not very used to it; maybe in a month's time, I'll hate it," he said, smiling.

There will no doubt be more attention at the Giro. In contrast, his form for the year's first grand tour has been honed up in the rarefied air of Mount Teide. Pellizzari enjoys the purity of altitude training, able to fine-tune his training, recovery and nutrition.

All work and no play is not his style, though. As well as going on TikTok to relax, he plays football console game FIFA on the PlayStation with his Red Bull teammates, usually as Real Madrid. (Normally, it is two-versus-two, but they only had two controllers at the recent camp on pro cycling's most renowned active volcano.) He reckons he is the best.

"I always bring it, I play a lot at home," he says. "Jai Hindley is really shit. Aleotti is pretty strong. Zwiehoff is good, Lipo[witz] also."

Despite this FIFA fighting talk, there is a budding bromance with the Australian Giro co-leader, seven years his senior. After winning on Gran Martello on stage 2 in a five-up sprint to move into the Tour of the Alps lead, Pellizzari said that he thought of the 2022 Giro champion in the last kilometres, owing to their training rides together in Tenerife. "We went for it, sprinting for every road sign. Sometimes I beat him, so I said today, 'I can win'," he says.

Pellizzari thinks having two options for leadership is better than one in the Giro d'Italia. "Of course, it depends what [kind of] person you are, but I think me and Jai are really friends off the bike. He helps me a lot."

"We were on Teide speaking about the Tour of the Alps and I remember he said to me 'don't be excited if you are strong, don't be frustrated if you are shit.' This is important for a young rider, it's still two months away from the last week of the Giro. We just have to be calm and believe in progress."

The Red Bull team around him is also showing its strength. Giovanni Aleotti pulled an almighty turn on Montoppio to set up his decisive attack, and Pellizzari has also become closer with the experienced Aleksandr Vlasov, fourth in the 2021 Giro himself, during their time on Teide. "We have a really nice team, we are really friends, also because we spend a lot of time together. I think we can go, have fun and be strong at the Giro," Pellizzari says.

While Pellizzari has not done any mountain stage recon trips, he has been working on his TT position and tried the 40km time-trial stage route before Tirreno-Adriatico.

The million-euro question is whether he, or any fellow contender, can match Jonas Vingegaard. "I hope I will not be so far from him and that the Giro will be open until the end," Pellizzari said in his post-Tour of the Alps press conference. "But of course, we have to see. I'm missing some shape to be ready for the Giro; there are some things to improve."

The fine-tuning will be carried out at Schfanastal, doing a last bit of altitude training in Trentino with trusted gregario Gianni Moscon before flying to Bulgaria for the grande partenza.

Whatever happens during the race's three weeks, Pellizzari is still a work in progress. "I have to improve moving in the group a bit, take the climbs in the front. I already got better from last year, but there are still things to do," he tells Cyclingnews. "It will be important because at the Giro, you can lose the race in a stupid moment when you are not in the right position. So this is the most important thing I have to prove," he says.

It has been five years since an Italian won a men's WorldTour stage race, Sonny Colbrelli successful in the mountain-free 2021 Benelux Tour; ten years since the last Italian Grand Tour winner, which saw Vincenzo Nibali crowned in Turin. "I'm still young, so I can try to catch him," Pellizzari said in his post-race press conference.

The palpable hope is that the drought could be over with the 'Duke of Camerino'. After his final Tour of the Alps press conference, former Giro winner Stefano Garzelli wanted a selfie with him; his great rival Gilberto Simoni already got his photo with him that morning. Everyone wants a piece of Pellizzari.

"He is the hope of Italian cycling," Francesco Moser tells me, squinting in the sunshine, after handing the Tour of the Alps winner a prize on the final podium in Bolzano.

"We hope he can carry on with this form. He's a strong climber, and to win stage races, that's what you need. And he has a good team, that counts for a lot."

No pressure then, Giulio. "I just have to do my thing, I cannot think about outside [expectations]. We will see; for now, it's too early maybe to say if I will win a grand tour or not in my life. But we are working for that," Pellizzari says.

In the 2024 Giro d'Italia, after being passed by Tadej Pogačar on Monte Pana and condemned to second place on the stage, Pellizzari spontaneously asked the superstar for his maglia rosa, and he obliged.

This time round, he can win and wear the hallowed jersey for himself on his own merits. "This is the dream," he says.

For the 15th time in its 109 editions, the Giro d'Italia will start on foreign soil in 2026, this time heading east to the Balkan nation of Bulgaria. A surprising choice at first glance, and this has not been a Grande Partenza without challenges, but Bulgaria is a nation with a history in the sport as long as the Giro itself.

With its Black Sea coastal plains to the east and high mountains to the west, Bulgaria will provide a varied opening three stages to kick off the Giro d'Italia, but the story of this start goes far beyond the route itself.

The 2026 Giro d'Italia will begin some 1,400km east of where it finishes in Rome, in the historic town of Nessebar, known as the ‘Pearl of the Black Sea’. The peloton will travel a short distance down the coast to Burgas on the opening day, where a sprinter can be expected to pull on the first maglia rosa before the race cuts inland towards the hills and finishes its Bulgarian appetiser in the capital of Sofia.

There's plenty of racing excitement surrounding this particular Grande Partenza, but there has also been a fair share of controversy and instability off the road; from an unhappy dispute over team participation fees to a political crisis in Bulgaria and a cycling federation in turmoil.

Ahead of the international peloton and media descending on Nessebar this week, Cyclingnews set out to investigate how the Giro got here, what it means for Bulgaria, and the impact of the complications along the way.

Team dissatisfaction threatened to derail Bulgarian start

There is an increasing trend in professional cycling of Grand Tours choosing to stage starts abroad more and more regularly, with organisers often pocketing significant sums from national governments for the privilege. Bulgaria is the Giro’s eighth foreign start since 2010.

Bulgaria is inexperienced when it comes to hosting major sporting events, and the Giro will be the first cycling race above UCI .2 level ever to be staged in the country. The 2018 Men’s World Championships in volleyball is the biggest sporting event held in the country over the last decade. There was some concern about whether the Bulgarians would be able to pull the Grande Partenza off, but all signs from Sofia are sounding positive.

"Last year, when the talks were in [an] advanced phase, I was not concerned, but I was also not so sure if Bulgaria could host this kind of event and such a big event like the Giro d'Italia," Bulgarian cycling commentator Simeon Kichukov told Cyclingnews, fresh from a four-day press trip held by Giro organisers RCS to show off the organisation of the event.

"The last four days, I'm very impressed with the readiness, the motivation of the people and their passion to do it. In every municipality, in every small town, they know about the Giro. They try to tell the people to be ready."

While the organisation of the Grande Partenza itself appears to be in place, several other major issues have threatened to thwart its success over the last year, including a dispute between teams and RCS.

Whenever a Grand Tour start takes place outside of the race’s host country, race organisers will offer teams a one-off participation fee in order to cover the additional costs of travel for each squad’s growing armada of vehicles and staff. That fee is usually in the region of €50,000. However, according to reports by Escape Collective, additional travel outgoings for this Grande Partenza have led teams to request participation fees more than triple the normal amount.

The challenge for teams, according to Escape Collective, is that with more than 1,000 kilometres between stage 3’s finish in the Bulgarian capital of Sofia and stage 4’s start in Catanzaro in the south of Italy, teams require two fleets of vehicles to be able to compete in the race – one to cover the three days in Bulgaria, and another for the rest of the Giro – adding to the overall cost and potentially forcing some teams to withdraw from other races taking place at the same time.

Cyclingnews understands that the AIGCP, the International Association of Professional Cycling Teams, has engaged in negotiations with RCS Sport since the start of the year in an attempt to secure a more appropriate participation fee to cover the costs.

The AIGCP’s Managing Director, Marc Chovelon, told Cyclingnews that teams had "requested financial support to help offset the major impacts" of the Grande Partenza. The AIGCP and RCS were able to come to an arrangement, but according to Chovelon, the final figure "fell below the level requested by the majority of our teams," leaving many of the Giro’s squads unhappy and out of pocket, though they are all expected to start the race.

Political turmoil, inside and outside cycling

Adding to the issues surrounding this Grand Tour start has been Bulgaria’s state of political insecurity, which dates back three decades but came to a head in the last few months.

In December, the sitting Bulgarian government collapsed after a wave of anti-corruption protests in which 100,000 people lined the streets of the country’s biggest cities in a show of opposition to the government.

On April 19, just three weeks ahead of the start of the Giro, Bulgaria held its eighth snap election in five years, illustrating the political crisis that grips this nation. Unexpectedly, and for the first time in 29 years, one party won an overall majority, possibly bringing to an end a long period of political uncertainty.

The Giro itself was far from being in danger; however, the government's collapse would have caused nervousness for the race organisation and teams alike.

While things are settling on the political front nationally, the same cannot be said for Bulgaria’s national cycling governing body. Last year, both the president and vice president of the Bulgarian Cycling Federation were fined and suspended by the UCI’s Ethics Commission. Both President Evgeniy Gerganov and Vice President Danail Angelov were found by the commission to be in breach of several articles of the UCI’s Code of Ethics.

A UCI statement in August 2025 said that both Gerganov and Angelov had been guilty of "abuse of authority due to repeated actions aimed at consolidating personal control over the National Federation, in particular, by modifying internal structures and retaliating against opponents, and, generally, placing their own interests above the applicable rules."

Both were also found to have breached conflicts of interest and engaged in verbal assault and intimidation, while Angelov additionally modified start lists to grant undue advantages to certain athletes. Gerganov was fined CHF 10,000 and Angelov CHF 5,000, and both were suspended from any involvement with the Bulgarian Cycling Federation for two years.

The incident has had an impact on Bulgarian cycling, with sponsors pulling out support for the federation. The pair have been temporarily replaced by other sitting members of the Bulgarian Cycling Federation Council, with permanent replacements being sought.

All negotiations for the Giro took place between RCS and the previous national government, with the federation only playing a small part in the organisation of the three stages.

"It was a big, big hit for the reputation of Bulgarian cycling," said Kichukov. "It's not a good image, and it could make problems in the future… We still don't know when the Tour of Bulgaria will be and in which cities it will come."

"The [temporary replacements] are good professionals, but they're limited by some factors, like a lack of money. The federation itself doesn't have the power to transform everything, but I know that the people love cycling," Kichukov added, hoping that fresh leadership and the impact of the Giro can begin a new dawn for cycling in Bulgaria.

‘This will have a positive benefit for Bulgarian cycling’

All that said, Bulgaria has a long and storied cycling tradition which belies its current status in the sport. The Balkans’ easternmost nation’s cycling federation is one of the world’s oldest, founded in 1902.

In 1909, the same year of the first Giro, there are records of Bulgaria’s earliest road race named the Tour of Vitosha, which took place in the mountainous region south of Sofia. The Tour of Bulgaria was founded in 1924, and remains one of the longest-running stage races anywhere in the world.

Despite its long history in the sport, Bulgaria has never produced cyclists of the very highest levels, and there are no current Bulgarian professional riders at WorldTour or ProTeam level. Only one rider from the country has ever competed in a Grand Tour: Nikolay Mihaylov, who raced the Giro d’Italia in 2015 as part of the Polish CCC Sprandi Polkowice team. Nentcho Christov is perhaps the nation’s most successful cyclist in its history, as the winner of the Peace Race in 1957.

"Bulgaria has a rich history in cycling," Kichukov said. "It’s not like countries like Belgium or Spain, but from between the countries in this region, Eastern Europe, we were one of the best."

There may be a long tradition of cycling in Bulgaria, but the sport lags behind football and other sports in popularity. Traffic and negative attitudes towards cyclists on the roads also hold the sport back.

Prominent figures within the Bulgarian cycling community are hopeful that the Giro’s visit will have a positive impact.

"It was unexpected for me to start [the Giro] from Bulgaria, but I'm really happy this is happening and I think this will have a positive benefit for Bulgarian cycling as well," said Martin Papanov, the 2022 men’s national road race champion. "Cycling could become a little bit more popular in Bulgaria and maybe the drivers will be a little bit more patient when they see some cyclists on the road."

"A lot of people start asking me, ‘What is this Giro d'Italia? What's happening in our country?' They're curious about the race," Papanov added.

A varied route from the Black Sea to Sofia

The route for the first three days of the 2026 Giro d’Italia will show off the country’s vast array of differing landscapes, with a mixture of riders potentially able to grab some glory.

The opening day will be one for the sprinters, taking in a beautiful stretch of Black Sea coastline around some of Bulgaria’s most popular holiday destinations. The roads are familiar to Papanov, who previously raced for a team based in the city of Nessebar. He suggests that under the correct conditions, the opening stage could pose questions.

"I'm excited to see the first stage. It is nearby the coast. I used to ride there and I know that it is always windy so it could be interesting, but depends on how the peloton decides to ride," he said.

Stage 2 will head west and inland for a hilly 221km from Burgas to Veliko Tarnovo with three categorised climbs, the final one finishing with 11km to go before a drag to the line. Several technical descents will make this stage one to be aware of.

The third and final stage in Bulgaria goes between the country’s two biggest cities, Plovdiv and Sofia. It’s on this day that the Grande Partenza will reach its highest peak, the Borovets Pass. This climb reaches up to 1,334 metres of altitude with a maximum gradient of 11%. Its distance from the line means that fireworks are unlikely, but it will provide one final display of what cycling in Bulgaria has to offer. "I'm looking forward to seeing what will happen there," said Papanov, who knows the Borovets Pass well.

Against significant headwinds, both on and off the road, the Giro’s Grande Partenza in Bulgaria will set the scene for the season's first three-week race, as Jonas Vingegaard sets out on his quest to claim all three Grand Tours.

This is a Grand Tour start that many will be puzzled at how it happened at all, but scratch below the surface and there is plenty to be intrigued by on the roads between Nessbar and Sofia.

Over the course of the Spring Classics, I've certainly not been alone in asking the question: how do you beat Tadej Pogačar? The opening stages of yesterday's Liège-Bastogne-Liège looked to me like several teams were searching for that answer, as a large breakaway went clear and built up an advantage that exceeded three minutes for a while.

Compared to the likes of Paris-Roubaix, forming a breakaway in La Doyenne is easier, given the route's elevation and the smaller selection of riders actually capable of getting up the road. I must admit that I was rather surprised to see so many riders, including Remco Evenepoel, in the breakaway by the time the TV coverage came around, though.

It quickly became a battle between UAE Team Emirates-XRG and Decathlon CMA CGM, versus the escapees, with Evenepoel, Egan Bernal, and their respective teammates Nico Denz and Laurens De Plus, working to keep that gap high. There were plenty of other teams represented, too, like Uno-X Mobility and Lidl-Trek, and the lead group was riding well together. However, the further into the race they went, the more riders began to think 'how far will we make it into the final?' and 'could this be the year that the break makes it to the end?', so teams began to tell their riders to conserve energy, and before you know it, all the momentum is gone, and the break is killed.

This breakaway action did force UAE Team Emirates-XRG to burn their matches sooner than they'd have maybe liked, with Pavel Sivakov and Tim Wellens putting in some crazy efforts at the front to sew the race back together. But ultimately, it was never going to change Pogačar's plan. It was a mad, energy-sapping pace heading into La Redoute that made positioning vital. So when Benoît Cosnefroy delivered Pogačar into La Redoute at the front of the strung-out bunch, well, he made everyone else pay. The manner in which he hit that climb at such speed, my God, it's just mindblowing the way he can do it.

After his Liège exploits, is Seixas Tour de France ready?

Of course, one rider who could handle his La Redoute acceleration was Paul Seixas, but fast forward to the Côte de la Roche-aux-Faucons, and Pogačar didn't even come out of his saddle as he rode away from him. The UAE man had another gear there. Either he didn't have to make a huge effort, or perhaps Seixas just frankly ran out of power there.

Regardless, it was the first Monument where the Frenchman came into the race as a main favourite, especially after his La Flèche Wallonne win, so the expectations were high, and he definitely lived up to them. His positioning, in particular, was impressive. You can be a great bike racer and get over testing climbs, but positioning yourself well on the likes of La Redoute is so difficult. Seixas did it very well, and that's the talent you need to get yourself in the wheel of Pogačar when he kicks on.

Over the top of La Redoute, Seixas rode with Pogačar because he didn't want to get into a tactical game and allow the other riders a chance to return, which is understandable. What's more, if you're not riding, Pogačar could very well sit up too, and then the situation would become much more complex. Although if he had held something back, perhaps he could've kept up on the Côte de la Roche-aux-Faucons. Regardless, he had to go so deep on La Redoute, but was then able to recover and offer turns. It shows he's clearly not afraid of racing Pogačar, and to have that mentality to want to do that is a very good thing.

It was a major test to see what he could do against the Slovenian on an Ardennes Classic stage, and he lived up to it big time. The 19-year-old has the talent, but he also has the rest of the package too, in a similar vein to Pogačar – he can do both stage races and Monuments. I'm sure Pogačar is looking over his shoulder and thinking, 'wow, this guy is catching up quickly!'

Naturally, that rise is only going to put more pressure on him in France. I stand by my opinion that I made in my Cyclingnews column after Strade Bianche that he shouldn't race the Tour de France this year. At just 19, he's already doing a lot of racing, and there's a point where you need to put the brakes on. So the question really ought to be, why do the team want him to race Le Tour so early? There are rumours regarding his future which could be driving it, but that's always the case with a talent like Seixas, so it's hard to say.

While Seixas' near future is yet to be decided, Pogačar immediately turns his attention to stage racing with the Tour de Romandie tomorrow. He's had a successful Classics campaign, but when you look at it, he hasn't raced loads. These two stages races ahead of July, Romandie and the Tour de Suisse, will be good preparation, and of course, they're races he's yet to win, which seems to be something he likes, getting as many on his palmarès as possible.

Vollering's vicious seated attack and the Classics' mind-blowing speeds

Meanwhile, in the women's race, Demi Vollering simply had more power than everybody else. She forced a gap on La Redoute while still seated in her saddle, and considering the gradient of the climb, there are very few male or female riders capable of that; you'd have to go back a long way. From there, it became so difficult for the chasing group to reel her in because while Vollering is riding all out, the other will have one eye on saving something should the race come back together. No one wants to give 100 per cent for someone else, so the gap just grows and grows.

When Anna van der Breggen bridged across to the second group, she almost went straight through them and out the other side, which showed that they weren't giving everything to hunt down the top spot of the podium, but that's often the case, and in men's racing too.

The women's race also shone a light on two up-and-coming talents, too, in Paula Blasi and Isabella Holmgren. Blasi won Amstel Gold Ladies a week prior, and these young talents are becoming more common in the Classics, which is exactly what we need, because you don't want it to always be the same two or three riders dominating proceedings.

The women's race at Liège wrapped up another Spring Classics campaign, with this year's races delivering some amazing racing and incredible drama. Of course, on the men's side, Pogačar has been dominant, but my main takeaway is the pace that this year's editions have been ridden at, with each and every Classic getting faster year after year. The action is also getting underway earlier and earlier, with the large breakaway in the men's a clear example of this. A decade ago, the peloton would only really get going with 100km remaining; now it's all-action from 260km out.

Data. It’s a big, all-encompassing buzzword that is everywhere you turn in cycling nowadays, controlling the narrative and generating discussion. Power passports, GPS trackers, and even Tadej Pogačar inadvertently – or deliberately? – sharing his power files on Strava. Numbers are everywhere.

But this proliferation of data is causing a problem. Or better said, numerous problems, spawning ever more political footballs. Something that ought to be relatively uncomplex – harvest the data, crunch it into something digestible, and then use it to enhance understanding of performance or the storytelling of a race – is being bogged down by concerns over ownership, privacy and fears over who would profit from monetising it. Data is now even being used to find possible dopers.

A really quite geeky area of technology is blowing up into one of cycling’s trickiest dilemmas for both the sport’s governors and protagonists. The expectation is that things aren’t going to be settled any time soon.

What is data?

Over the past two decades, especially as cycling computers and wearables like sports watches have become ubiquitous, performance data has evolved from laboratory figures mostly available only to the professionals to something that every single amateur now has easy access to.

Power numbers, heart rate and cadence are data points that form the basis of objectively analysing performance, with heart rate variability, glucose monitoring and analysis of sleep considered as the next step-up in performance metrics. Then there are more advanced data points that tend to only concern professional athletes or the most hardcore of racing amateurs: coefficient of aerodynamic drag (CdA) and rolling resistance of tyres.

More basic than any of the above is location, better known as GPS data: where a rider is physically at – it's so simple, but it's causing one of the biggest headaches right now. But before we get into that, Cyclingnews has seen a copy of a rider contract from a WorldTour team which highlights what a rider’s ‘personal data’ refers to. Beyond generic identity and contact information, data includes “laboratory test results for evaluation of physical potential, race data through platforms like TrainingPeaks and Strava and 3D Scanning results to evaluate aerodynamic potential.”

Medical data is also listed, but can only be collected and processed by the team and the UCI, cycling’s governing body, if it’s “pertinent to the rider’s health and necessary for the purpose of the ‘Programme of obligatory tests for UCI medical monitoring’ – the objective of which is to safeguard the health and safety of riders.”

Who owns data?

Who owns all this data depends on each individual team. “A lot of rider contracts hand data over to the team so the teams own all of the data,” said Adam Hansen, the president of the riders’ union, the CPA. “But if data is not signed across, then riders own their private data.”

Ask a rider who owns their data, though, and they’ll likely not know. “The sad thing is most riders aren’t interested,” Hansen laments. “Some care, but most aren’t aware who owns their data.” To illustrate the point, UAE Team Emirates-XRG’s Pavel Sivakov – one of a few elite riders who openly and regularly shares his power files online to the masses – said: “I’m not so sure if the team completely owns my data or not.”

This probably shouldn’t be viewed as naive on the riders’ part – it’s more representative of the fact that riders have no reason to believe that teams would exploit their data or use it maliciously. After all, they’re paid employees. Indeed, Sivakov said that “it’s not really a topic. What riders are more concerned about is privacy, in that you don’t want people to see where you live via Strava.”

That aforementioned contract (similar to most other WorldTour contracts but not replicated across the board) states that the team “uses personal data for the purpose of reviewing and evaluating the rider’s physical potential.” It adds that the team will “process and store the personal data securely, for no longer than necessary… and in no event longer than the duration of this contract.”

Crucially, a rider can remove consent “at any time” and can “object to the paying agent [team - ed] using their personal data for direct marketing purposes”. They can also request that their data be restricted or that the team delete the data. In summary, the rider gives teams access to and ownership of their data, but they have the ultimate authority on whether that data is used.

As in certain broadcasts of races, it’s not uncommon for a rider’s speed, cadence, and power to be shown on TV. This is only possible with a small 60-gram device from Velon – an organisation owned by nine teams. Each of the 15 WorldTeams and the number of ProTeams who have an agreement with Velon consent to the use of “live power data” (power figures) on behalf of the rider, and they – not anyone else, including the broadcaster – continue to own that data. ASO, the promoters of the Tour de France, have its own partnership with Capgemini, but their speeds are approximated using the following motorbikes.

How that data is monetised is a topic of debate within the sport. “It’s not that we don’t want data to be shared, we just want to be sure that the revenue goes to the right people,” Hansen said. “What we don’t want is for the organisers to supply the trackers, and then they own all the data and teams and riders are again on the back foot and not making money from it.” Sivakov concurs with Hansen. “If teams own our data, we don’t want to just give it away for free. It’s a way for the teams to earn some money, and some guys would be keen to do that.”

Who shares data?

Aside from the odd power file shared on TV, most riders don’t tend to make their performance data public information. Although most male and female WorldTour riders have public Strava accounts and upload files from racing and possibly training rides, most restrict what data is visible to location and speed.

The main reason for this is that riders – often at the request (or demand) of their employers – don’t wish to give away what could be termed ‘team secrets’. By publishing their physiological files, people can analyse their performance, look for signs of fatigue or weakness during a race setting that could dictate rival tactics, or pull apart a rider’s training plan.

For the most part, the risks of performance data being used advantageously by third parties (read: rival teams) are probably slightly overblown: training plans are mostly the same across the board with a few small exceptions, and it’s easy enough to estimate a rider’s watts per kilogram figures going off their speed and weight. But the fear of giving too much away certainly prevails.

Sivakov, along with a number of riders from EF Education-EasyPost like Ben Healy and Neilson Powless, does share his physiological data on Strava – though since this year, due "to team protocols", he only does so in races. “They don’t want everyone to copy or look too much into what we do [in training],” he explained.

“It’s a personal choice to make it open during races, and I don’t mind, really,” he said. “From my perspective, it’s a chance to show the amateurs and fans what it takes to be a pro, what type of power we are pushing, all that kind of stuff.”

The demand from fans for more transparency and to see rider data remains high, and there has long been a call in some quarters to use power files to determine possible cases of doping. This past winter, the International Testing Agency (ITA), the organisation that oversees anti-doping control in cycling and Olympic sports, began a two-year trial of a ‘power data passport’ with four WorldTour teams. But the initial response to the pilot scheme has been largely negative.

What is the power data passport?

Outlining the defence of its project, the ITA said that “power data is at the core of professional road cycling” and highlighted how it is routinely “scrutinised” by riders and fans alike. “Paradoxically,” the Switzerland-based organisation added, “the ITA does not have access to it.”

Its venture, therefore, is aimed at using data as a “supplementary [intelligence] tool to help identify potential indicators of doping.” It added that the tools, if deployed on a wide-scale basis at a later date, would “only be used if they prove to be reliable… The analysis is simply intended to highlight performance progressions or gains that fall outside the statistically expected ‘normal’ range for that rider and compared with their peers.”

If anomalies were found in the data, a rider wouldn’t be sanctioned for doping as there “may be entirely legitimate reasons for their performance change,” but rather the ITA would “follow up by reviewing additional data” to build a more complete picture of whether a rider is potentially using performance-enhancing substances and methods.

CPA president Hansen is strictly against power data passports. “Speak to any mechanic, and they’ll tell you how unreliable power meters are – some brands can be 10% off. And now we’re using this unbelievably unreliable device to monitor possible doping,” he fumed.

Hypothetically speaking, if the accuracy of power meters was improved to within one per cent, would Hansen support the passport’s rollout? “Even if it’s super reliable, what then happens if a rider forgets to upload their training ride? They [the ITA] might think if I’ve not uploaded my data for two days, I must be cheating, but the reality can be so different. It’s not the rider going against the system, but there could be multiple factors why they’ve not uploaded the data. You also need the coaching plan to go alongside the data, and all other details to make sure the power files are in line.”

Sivakov is also not in favour, for similar reasons. “There’s always a margin of error with power meters – sometimes an overreading, other times an underreading. That’s why it doesn’t make sense,” the Frenchman said. “If someone is good in training, it doesn't matter – it only matters in races. If a guy is suddenly performing out of their normal range, you see it during the race; you don’t need power files to see that kind of stuff.

“It’s not like we’ve got something to hide. But what you’d need is for everyone to have the same power meter and to use that same device throughout the whole season. I think they’re looking in the wrong place. There are better issues to think about in cycling at the moment.”

Nevertheless, Hansen fears that the ITA, with the blessing of the UCI, will push for this project to become mandatory at the end of the trial period. “I really believe they’re going to do this,” he said.

What’s the latest on GPS trackers?

The other contentious matter right now relates to GPS trackers. Not because riders don’t agree that they are necessary for safety purposes. They do, especially since the tragic death of Muriel Furrer at the 2024 World Championships. “We should have them and the technology is there – it’s not something crazy,” Sivakov said.

So what’s the issue? Politics, of course. Or partly. ASO uses the most reliable location tracking device from a coverage point of view at the Tour de France, but its system of requiring a high-altitude plane to transmit an uninterrupted signal at all times is the most expensive, said to cost €500,000 over the course of a three-week Grand Tour. That can clearly not be rolled out across all WorldTour races where organisers already face a battle just to break even.

Velon’s SAVE system, as well as the UCI’s own device, relies on mobile phone coverage that can be patchy in the mountains, but they are far cheaper to operate and have been successfully used at a number of races in the past year.

In March, the UCI said that it would make the use of GPS trackers mandatory in the near future (without setting out a timeline), calling on all stakeholders to present possible options. At present, 15 of the 18 men’s WorldTour teams use the Velon device, but the UCI said that “if a reasonable and satisfactory solution is not accepted by all stakeholders in the context of our upcoming discussion, the UCI will have no option but to enforce effective GPS tracking for the safety of the riders as shall be deemed the most appropriate.”

“All we do is talk about it, but we don’t do anything,” Hansen said. “This prompted the UCI to send this letter to say we have to work on it. Some teams are saying that they control what they put on their bikes, but this shouldn’t block safety. It should be possible for teams to decide what tracking system they use. Every rider has to submit [their] location, and if they want to submit heart rate and power too, they can. All the CPA wants is for riders to be tracked.”

What’s the future?

Guessing how these various ongoing debates will be settled is a brave man’s game – cycling politics is notoriously complicated and fiercely divided. GPS trackers will likely have to be mandatorily installed on every rider’s bike within the next year, but what system – or systems – will be used is up for discussion.

Will riders and teams profit from selling their data? TeamCo, the latest team-led attempt at economic reform, certainly hopes to do so, with its leaders believing that rider power and heart rate data can significantly enhance the broadcast spectacle. The likelihood, however, is that the landscape remains fragmented, with no universal strategy imposed.

It’s often said that amateur and professional riders alike shouldn’t get too hung up on the numbers and data, and let their training and racing be more influenced by how they feel. It’s a piece of advice that the sport’s governors could do with heeding, too. They’re stuck in various quagmires over something seemingly so easy to solve: make GPS trackers mandatory, and let riders and teams profit from selling their own personal data. In cycling, though, nothing is ever straightforward. Not even a bunch of easily understandable numbers on a screen.

Today, my normal race column will be replaced by an account of a future race, rather than a past one. Amstel Gold Race was the race intended; however, due to my crash and problems in Roubaix (my story on that is available to read here on Cyclingnews), I had to take some days off the bike, focusing on a lot of physio for a small knee problem. Therefore, there was no Amstel for me. This opened up the opportunity to attend the 2027 Tour de France Femmes presentation event in London last Monday.

The capital city is where the third stage of the 2027 edition will be held, a team time trial passing all of London's iconic landmarks. As well as the announcement of stage 3's TTT sightseeing tour, the full routes for the first two stages through Leeds, Manchester and Sheffield, including the elevation, distance, all the climbs, corners, and challenging Yorkshire roads, were revealed to the public.

A Grand Départ in Leeds means a 40-minute drive to the start of the 2027 Tour de France from my childhood home. Pretty easy work for my travel plan for the logistics team at Movistar, and hopefully an additional reason to help me with selection. The full stage 3 route is still to come; it will be released in October, along with the rest of the route - but I did get a sneak peek at stage 3's course, and it's going to be incredibly exciting.

It was really an honour for me to be there at the event. I've never been to a Grand Tour presentation before, so to get to go to my first (hopefully of many) Grand Tour presentation in London for a home Tour de France was really special. We spent time taking pictures on The Mall (the road leading to Buckingham Palace), where the TTT will be held, and the rest of the day was filled with various press conferences. To be part of a panel at these press conferences with so many leading and influential women in cycling and sport as a whole made it a really memorable day for me.

The women alongside me were Sally Munday (CEO, UK Sport), Zoe Stratford (2025 Rugby World Cup-winning captain of the Red Roses), Tracy Power (Managing Director, British Cycling), Kate Veronneau (Director of Women's Strategy, Zwift), Alice Barnes (former professional cyclist, now commentator), Flora Perkins (professional cyclist for Fenix-Premier Tech), and Marion Rousse (Race Director, Tour de France Femmes avec Zwift). 


Stratford's role in particular stood out to me. Listening to her speak about winning the 2025 rugby World Cup in front of a home crowd in London last year, what it did for her and for women’s rugby across Britain, and what the Tour de France Femmes can hopefully do for cycling in the UK when it comes here next year.

When the Tour de France came to Yorkshire in 2014 - my home county - I was one of the kids on the roadside watching, and I still remember exactly where I watched it from, 15 minutes by bike from my home, where my mum and dad still live. Every time I pass that spot on a training ride when I'm back home, I am still reminded of where I watched the Tour zoom by when it came to Yorkshire in that iconic year. So I guess that says it all to you how much the Tour coming to the UK impacted me as an 8-year-old girl watching the biggest bike race in the world on her home roads.

I'm always grateful to have joined the peloton at this time. It's something I say a lot as I really mean it, but when an opportunity like this comes around as well, it's even more mind-blowing knowing how lucky I am to be here. It's not a given, of course, that I'll be on the start line next year, but whether I am in the peloton or standing on the roadside supporting, I will be part of the amazing event that we have coming our way in some form, and I urge as many people as possible to do the same.

We all need to get behind this once-in-a-lifetime race and make it the most successful and most-watched sporting event in the UK. It's free to watch; therefore, why can't it be the most-watched sporting event in UK history? That is the aim, as mentioned at the event in London.

The Tour de France is the race everyone thinks of when they think of cycling. If we can show more about the team tactics in the overall GC, the real meaning of a stage win in the Tour and the emotions of the iconic yellow jersey, then I can't see why everyone won't fall in love with cycling. I think of the Tour de France like a Netflix TV show. In July, when the Tour's on, I know exactly what time each stage starts and ends every day. It's like a series where, when the day's stage ends, I'm already thinking about the next episode coming out tomorrow. And if it's a rest day for them, it's a bad day for me.

What I'm trying to say is that I want the 2027 Tour, both men’s and women’s, to lead to more people getting on bikes. I want more people to find the same love for cycling that I have every single day I'm on a bike or at a race, and I think this is the biggest and best platform to facilitate this wish. It doesn't matter the number, for me, I just hope more people can see the Tour, believe they can do it too and get out on bikes themselves. It doesn't matter whether you go on to join the WorldTour professional peloton or just become an expert at knowing a good brownie when you see one at a cafe on a weekend bike ride with your local ride group. Sport is an incredible thing. In my opinion, it's a way of teaching all the desirable qualities in life; commitment, communication skills, patience, determination, drive and joy: all in an almost perfect balance.

It seems simple, but of course it's an absolute blessing and a privilege to do sport, and especially cycling. It's not something everybody can do because there are many barriers, but I also hope that this is something that can get easier after the Tour. After all, growth is never linear but exponential.

For now, there is still a whole other Tour de France to tackle before even thinking about 2027's edition. I will manage my excitement by taking a look at the stage 1 and 2 routes the next time I'm at home. They aren't exactly my home training roads, as mentioned previously, I live about an hour away from Leeds. But they are the home roads of my best friend, Imogen Wolff (Visma-Lease a Bike), and we are already planning our recons for the two stages. Potentially a small bikepacking trip across three days (no camping involved, however, strictly hotels only), splitting the second stage into two might even be the best idea, as it is an absolute brute. 3,000 metres of elevation gain over 150km, which doesn’t sound as much as it is due to the nature of the roads. The roads in Yorkshire are rural, ever-changing and momentum-sucking, normally making for an unexpectedly low average speed.

I think stage 2 will significantly impact the GC. It's great to have the Tour in the UK, but it's amazing to have the Tour in Yorkshire, knowing it will be a stage for the GC riders and will impact the race overall. 


Like I said, though, first there is still the 2026 Tour de France to come; this year's race starts in Switzerland, and for me, having Marlen Reusser on our team, who is Swiss, of course, makes it a big goal for the team. I would love, love, love to be there to support her. And even hopefully gain some experience thinking ahead, as always, to the 2027 Tour de France.

How do you grow the sport of cycling and improve its overall appeal? That's the question that cycling's governing body, the UCI, is currently trying to answer.

In a bid to take cycling to the next level and achieve "greater stability, more growth and improved overall appeal," according to UCI president David Lappartient, a consultation process was recently launched, inviting contributions and proposals from stakeholders across the sport by April 30.

Anticipating the UCI's reform process, Cyclingnews has taken it upon itself to kick off the debate on some of cycling's most pressing issues and offer suggestions on how to revolutionise pro cycling, with inspiration from other professional sports and speaking to some of the most progressive voices within cycling.

Be sure to read part one of this deep dive feature here.

The sport's overall governance, potential benefits of budget caps, and the power of the Tour de France were all discussed, with input from EF Pro Cycling boss Jonathan Vaughters and insight from F1 and soccer on developments that cycling could strive towards.

For the second part of our in-depth analysis, the spotlight is on racing schedules, rider safety and fan engagement, and how changes to all three could drastically benefit cycling.

Improving the race calendar, improving the narrative for new fans

The 2026 UCI WorldTour men's calendar comprises 36 races across 13 countries and four continents, spanning 168 days of racing from January in Australia to late October in China. It includes three-week Grand Tours, stage races and 21 one-day races of varying importance and prestige. The Women's WorldTour includes many of the same races, totalling 77 days of racing, with the three Grand Tours lasting between seven and nine days.

Underneath that are lower-level races around the globe, with teams constantly chasing success, sponsor visibility, and UCI ranking points to survive, despite the risk of rider burnout and an often illogical narrative to follow.

"I think the calendar definitely has to be refined," former rider turned gravel privateer and respected blogger Michael Woods told Cyclingnews.

"From a narrative perspective, you want the best racers to be at the best races as much as possible. I want to watch Tadej Pogačar race against Mathieu van der Poel, and Demi Vollering against Kasia Niewiadoma. I want to see them battling regularly and on different terrain, as opposed to them doing separate races programmes and only clashing perhaps at the Tour de France or a few Classics."

Cyclingnews understands that the One Cycling project included a calendar strategy where teams would send their best riders to specific races, so that the sport's big stars competed in 70% of the biggest races.

Other sports have far better seasonal narratives due to far simpler formats and calendars.

Professional tennis also has far too many tournaments and different playing surfaces for most fans to keep up with, but it has a logical structure and flow. Centred around the four Grand Slams, the calendar takes in the Australian summer and the sunshine states of the USA in the spring, before European clay and grass tournaments in the summer, including the French Open and Wimbledon. Then onto the US Open, before tournaments in East Asia and the end-of-season ATP and WTA Finals. Importantly, the biggest players frequently go head-to-head in the final rounds of the most prestigious tournaments.

The professional cycling calendar was built on similar traditions, but is now bloated and out of touch. It needs to change to reflect the demands of modern-day cycling and the fans.

Woods sees several reasons for major change and benefits for the sporting narrative. First of all, he would get rid of the battle for UCI ranking points and, in turn, the risk of relegation from the WorldTour.

"We should focus on the race winners, not the losers chasing points," Woods said.

"Riders are sprinting for 10th place, and that's creating a lot more stress and a lot more crashing. There's a never-ending pressure because of the need to score points.

"WorldTour races should be reserved for WorldTour riders. So there would be a reduced calendar, without the problems of lower-level one-day races offering more points than a Tour de France stage win," added Woods, keen to create a sport that is easier to follow and for new fans to understand.

'Sport is entertainment' and why fan engagement matters

Bas Tietema raced as a pro before building a cycling YouTube channel, which spiralled into the ProTeam Unibet Rose Rockets. Alongside his two co-owners, they have done more in three years to boost the appeal of pro cycling to a new, younger generation than some teams have in three decades.

Their team employs almost as many video and social media staff as it does riders. Their success, engagement with their fans, and visibility for their sponsors is not just about winning races. It takes fans behind the scenes and inside the team, offering a constant flow of content about the races, riders, and both their successes and failures.

When the US company Liberty Media bought Formula 1 in 2017, it began a similar but highly strategic revolution in F1, rejuvenating a sport focused on an older demographic and pay-per-view TV rights into a social media-driven, digital-first fan-engagement sport. Love it or hate it, the strategy is working, just look at how many other sports have launched documentary series, off the back of Netflix's 'Drive to Survive'. Cycling's 'Tour de France: Unchained' failed to reach similar heights.

In 2026, Apple TV opted to end its streaming of Major League Soccer (MLS) in the USA and instead became the US home of Formula 1 under a five-year deal worth approximately $750 million.

Pro Cycling arguably needs a similar reset or transformation if it is to attract a new generation of fans to replace those who fell in love with the sport in the 1960s in Europe, and, thanks to Lance Armstrong and Bradley Wiggins, in the USA and the UK.

"The fans in any sport are super important because, in my opinion, sport is entertainment, and you are doing it for the fans," Bas Tietema told Cyclingnews, his opinions as bright as the blue, purple and pink Unibet Rose Rockets jersey.

"Three of us own the team, and we're all between 30 and 35, so we've grown up with social media content and, of course, our YouTube channel. We try to project what we love about the sport to people like us."

Tietema has a clear business strategy and logic regarding what his team is doing. They took a risk by signing Dylan Groenwegen, but then secured sponsorship and created the visibility needed to make it economically viable.

They already have over 110,000 YouTube subscribers, a sign of the interest in the team and a measure of their value. Unibet Rose Rockets have more YouTube subscribers than the biggest WorldTour teams.

Similarly, the official Formula 1 YouTube channel has 14.5 million subscribers, while the Tour de France has just 626,000. Pro cycling can clearly do better and is missing out on social media, digital visibility and its value.

"We generate both external media value because a lot of people are interested in our team, and so the media report about us. Then we have the benefit of having our 'owned media' that we create and can control ourselves," Tietema said.

"I love how Tadej Pogačar, Mathieu van der Poel and Remco Evenepoel interact on social media. I think everyone, including a lot of potential new cycling fans, would love to see more of that," he continued.

Unibet Rose Rockets were surprisingly snubbed for a wild card invitation to this year's Tour de France, but are now scoring enough points to secure an automatic wildcard for 2027. However, they will make their Grand Tour debut at the Giro d'Italia in May, with Rose bikes becoming an RCS Sport race sponsor as part of a deal that will benefit both sides.

'We're boiling the frog, people are getting injured without it being a major scandal'

Rider and race safety has become a major topic in recent years as the number of crashes and the apparent severity of rider injuries increase.

Professional cycling is held on open roads, in almost any weather, with riders taking risks to win, while dressed only in Lycra. Helmets were made obligatory after the tragic death of Andrei Kivilev at Paris-Nice in 2003, but two decades on, so much more can and should be done to protect the riders, who are arguably the stars of the show.

Cycling now has the SafeR project, but terrible crashes are still occurring, as we saw in the latest edition of the Milan-San Remo Women's race. Other dangerous sports have long put athlete safety first.

There were several Formula 1 driver deaths in the early days of the sport, but it has learned from the past to improve the designs of circuits and the cars to protect the drivers. Head and neck support (HANS) devices have become obligatory with structural Halo designs protecting the drivers if the cars flip over in a collision.

The Grand Prix Drivers' Association (GPDA) is very active in defending the rights and safety of the Formula 1 drivers, with Carlos Sainz elected as their new director. The GPDA has threatened to go on strike in the past regarding safety and often speaks out, such as on the crash risk posed by slow-moving drivers as they recharge the batteries of the new 2026 power unit.

The Cyclistes Professionnels Associés (CPA) represents pro riders, with their mission to "defend their interests, see their rights respected, and demand improved working conditions."

Australia's Adam Hansen was elected President in 2023 and has worked hard to try to improve rider contracts and safety, but some riders are still sceptical about the CPA and the idea of rider unity, and often come under pressure from their teams.

Jules Bianchi is the last Formula 1 driver to die from injuries sustained in a Grand Prix in 2015. Sadly, several cyclists have died in the last decade, including Muriel Fürrer at the 2024 Road World Championships and Gino Mäder at the 2023 Tour de Suisse. Each time the sport promises to do more, but the intrinsic risks remain high.

Last year, Woods was critical of the Tour de France using crashes in video content to 'sell the drama' of pro cycling. He is supportive of Hansen's work and the SafeR projects, but believes cycling can improve safety as other sports have done.

"The tacit acceptance of injury in the sport is insane," Woods pointed out.

"In every race I raced or now watch, somebody has a cataclysmic crash, with at least one person going to the hospital. In pro cycling, if you just suffer road rash in a crash, you're expected to continue the race. In what other work environment does that happen in modern-day life? It's insane.

"We're boiling the frog; people are getting injured without it being a major scandal. It's actually crazy.

"Rider contracts are so precarious that they fight for every result and so every inch of the road," he added.

"That creates less stability and so less respect in the peloton. There is also less unity, and so riders are less willing to protest together to make the UCI and race organisers improve safety."

Woods believes reducing the size of the peloton is a way to improve race safety. The current UCI rules allow a 176-rider peloton, with 184 riders (23 teams of 8 riders) permitted to race in Grand Tours.

"I think we should reduce field sizes by reducing team sizes. Why not have 20 teams of six riders in WorldTour races? A 120-rider peloton would, in theory, be safer," said Woods.

"Of course, safety is a tough issue. A lot of things also snuck up on race organisers and the sport. No one could have anticipated how much road infrastructure and road furniture would change in the last 20 years and how much that would impact cycling. Global warming is moving incredibly fast, and it's hard for the sport to adapt to that too."

Woods hopes the riders will soon stand up more for their own safety, as we have seen in Formula 1.

"I was really excited when I heard that airbags could soon be implemented. A lot needs to be done to make the sports safer, but it does take time to make these adjustments," he said.

The UCI reforms and a wider consideration of the dangers and values of the sport could lead to far better rider safety, so the sport protects its biggest assets: the riders who race out on the roads.

"I think everybody's got to work together, right?" Woods said. "Instead of competing against each other, everyone in the sport has got to come together and create some kind of new model or project, which benefits everybody, that makes the sport better for everyone.

"That way, pro cycling can compete with other sports for sponsorship and revenue and also attract new fans. It's a complex task to work out, but it is in everybody's benefit."

Professional cycling is a thrilling, entertaining sport, packed with drama and intrigue, contested by incredible athletes on spectacular roads and mountains around the world. Yet at the same time, it is often dangerous, financially precarious as a business and reluctant to innovate, living on its history rather than building a new future.

Many fans and those within the sport know that professional cycling must evolve or risk further decline. Various projects, ideas and reforms to every aspect of the sport have been proposed over the years, but divisions, power struggles and arguments have hindered change.

The UCI has recently launched a consultation process, with a stated aim to "develop the sector's organisational model in order to strengthen its long-term appeal."

"The consultation aims to bring together stakeholders of road cycling to reflect jointly on its evolution," UCI President David Lappartient said.

Last year, Lappartient and the sport's governing body blocked the One Cycling project, which aimed to shake up the sport by having several leading teams and race organisers unite to create new events and generate new revenue. Lappartient wants the UCI to control the reform process and, by extension, the future of pro cycling.

"It is only together, under the auspices of the UCI, that we will take our sport to the next level: for greater stability, more growth and improved overall appeal," the Frenchman said.

Cyclingnews understands that Lappartient's call-out for reform ideas was sent to over six thousand emails, entities, federations and members of the sport's official stakeholders (race organisers, teams and riders' associations) with a deadline of April 30 for contributions and proposals from across the sport.

Cyclingnews has decided to anticipate the UCI's reform process and kick off the debate by offering suggestions on how to make pro cycling better, by looking at what other sports have done.

Formula 1, North American sports like the NBA and NFL, professional tennis and soccer all have their own problems, but do not appear afraid of change. Importantly, they are run as sports-entertainment businesses, generating profits for their owners and generally satisfying the desire of new and old fans.

Of course, the pursuit of higher revenue and profit means someone has to pay, and that is usually the sport's fans. Professional cycling is seen as a free spectator sport, with a general reluctance to charge fans to watch a race from the roadside. Instead, cycling fans indirectly 'fund' the sport through advertising, broadcasting, buying the tech that teams use, and spending money on the local economy at races. Other sports are becoming increasingly expensive to follow, but cycling's business model and the power struggles slow the development of new revenue streams, while team budgets and riders' salaries increase year on year.

To understand what might come from this consultation process and how pro cycling can learn from other sports, across a two-part in-depth feature, Cyclingnews spoke to several stakeholders within the sport, all of whom are adamant that cycling needs to evolve if it wants to avoid being left behind.

"Sports are constantly evolving. Anybody who's a traditionalist and thinks we have to keep doing as we have always done is a fool," former rider turned gravel privateer and respected blogger Michael Woods told Cyclingnews.

"We need to realise that everything constantly changes, so we as a sport have to change too. If we don't evolve, then the sport will become a relic."

The importance of good governance

People often ask me why I write about the governance of professional cycling for Cyclingnews, suggesting it is boring and that nobody really cares about the sport's politics. "Nobody wants to see how the sausage is made" is an often-used idiom.

However, I believe they are the foundation on which the sport is built. If the sport's principles and rules are weak, the whole sport loses out and will never reach its full potential.

The UCI – which is part of the International Olympic Committee and benefits from Olympic Games profits – governs the whole sport, including professional cycling, and sets rules and regulations on everything from team sizes and the race calendar to sock height, rider contracts, and the sport's business model.

Most other major professional sports are run more like a business, with all key stakeholders serving as part-owners and investors in the project and commercial entity that runs the business. This includes sports with Olympic origins that have developed and grown commercially and economically over time, massively boosting the sport's revenue and turnover.

However, cycling has developed a different, more fractional and frictional business model over the last 120 years, which has changed little, even as other sports boom. Long-standing race organisers like Tour de France owner, ASO, are especially influential, both economically because they own the biggest race in the sport and politically because they dominate the AIOCC race organisers association.

The teams come and go and are largely funded by sponsorship from brands seeking a return on investment, or, more recently, from state entities and their sovereign-fund-controlled companies. Riders usually sign short-term contracts with teams and so have a precarious, almost mercenary role in the sport.

"The UCI is not really designed to govern a professional team sport. The UCI president is elected by national governing bodies worldwide, many of whom have never been to a true high-level professional bike race," EF Education Pro Cycling team manager Jonathan Vaughters told Cyclingnews.

"It’s not that the UCI is bad at what they were built to do. It’s that they are not purposely built for professional team sports.

"The teams don't elect the president, we don't really have legislative power, we don’t have the power to vote. We're just like a little kid screaming in the corner. That's why David doesn't like us very much..."

In the early 1990s, the leading English football clubs sparked a revolution by breaking away from the Football League, the traditional governing body in Britain, and launching the Premier League. They agreed to follow the national and international rules of the sport, but created a commercially independent company, agreed a revolutionary broadcasting deal with Sky television and have since grown exponentially. It was British soccer's big bang moment.

The Premier League has become the wealthiest division in the world, attracting the best players, with its top teams regularly fighting for the biggest trophies, allowing them to generate more wealth and offer higher salaries. These clubs have also been able to invest in new stadiums, offering better facilities to their fans. However, some supporters argue that their love of the sport and their club loyalty have been squeezed for every penny of possible revenue by the teams, sponsors and broadcasters.

Premier League football is now watched and followed around the world and generates huge global revenues. The division's 20 clubs generated an aggregate revenue of approximately £6.3 billion in the 2023/24 season, with Gross Value Added to the UK economy (the value of goods and services of a sector) calculated at £9.8 billion.

Vaughters is a former president of the AIGCP teams association and has been a team manager for 20 years. He is convinced that professional cycling needs to be run by an independent company, like the Premier League and the NFL, with every stakeholder a shareholder, working together for the good of the sport, or at least to grow the revenue of the sport.

However, that has never happened in professional cycling.

"The UCI doesn't want that to happen. They don't like it, and ASO certainly doesn't like that," Vaughters said. "The UCI should realise that they would be much more financially healthy if they created a separate arm or body to deal with the professional side of the sport."

A change in the governance of professional cycling and the creation of a new, commercially driven company to manage the business of pro cycling could spark a new era and create a new business model. However, that is the least likely to happen in the coming months under the UCI's reform process.

Making a billion-dollar business benefit everyone

Professional cycling is a billion-dollar business built on sand, as the tide rises and the global economy whips up the waves.

The biggest race organisers are profitable companies, with ASO, which also runs non-cycling events such as the Dakar Rally, generating at least €250 million per year from cycling and posting a profit margin of close to 40%. Smaller organisers struggle and often only survive thanks to state and regional funding, volunteers and the grassroots love for the sport.

The average team budget has risen to €33 million for 2026, with the median salary for a self-employed WorldTour rider up to €350,000. However, teams do not generate a profit and often overspend as they try to win races, score UCI ranking points, and retain their three-year WorldTour licences.

The biggest North American professional sports, such as the NBA, the NFL, and the NHL, are collectively owned by the teams, with a CEO or Commissioner to manage the business. A new business model for professional cycling could be similar, with race organisers and teams working together as investors and shareholders, leaving the UCI to play a regulatory role.

European sports are historically rooted in sporting merit, promotion and relegation and the inherent financial risks of that system. North American sports have permanent franchises, salary caps and are run as profitable businesses. They are two very different business models.

Formula 1 also has a franchise structure, with team values surging in recent years, with the average team valuation at $3.4 billion. In comparison, Ralph Denk reportedly sold his successful WorldTour team to Red Bull for just €10 million.

"There's no intrinsic value to the asset in cycling because the asset is only a three-year license, controlled by the UCI and their rules. It's worth nothing," Vaughters said.

"Some of the biggest franchises have negative cash flow and debt. Yet, they are worth billions. Why? Because the franchise itself has value. It has permanency.

"In pro cycling, we seem to think that we are all in competition with each other. The teams are fighting each other on the road, the organisers are fighting the teams, the teams are fighting with the UCI, it's just a constant battle. But we are not each other's competition.

"Fighting for victory out on the road is healthy. Where it’s not healthy is on the business side, in the boardroom. Our competition is F1, our competition is Netflix. Our competition is any other sport and any other form of entertainment. Competing against each other is stupid and short-sighted."

F1 has boomed under the ownership of US company Liberty Media, doubling revenue to $3.41 billion in 2024, with reported profits of $791 million, according to sports business media reports. As revenue increased, Liberty Media convinced the teams to accept a budget cap to try to limit spending and level the playing field.

Top constructors like Ferrari were historically paid a higher share of television rights, but the F1 budget cap limited that, with exceptions for driver salaries, engine costs and some other costs. The 2026 cap is €199 million. New rules on car design and racing have sparked debate and push-back from drivers and die-hard fans, but F1 continues to innovate and modernise, growing its profitability and wider appeal.

The UCI said in 2024 that it was considering some form of budget cap to level the playing field between the so-called super teams, like UAE Team Emirates-XRG, with budgets close to €50 million per season, and those who struggle to compete on half that figure.

The biggest, wealthiest team and their riders are against a budget cap because they do not want any limitations on their spending and the dominance it brings. They claim the sport should welcome more major sponsors, not limit spending, often forgetting that they were once a small team struggling to compete or desperately looking for sponsors to cover their budget.

Late last year, Lappartient claimed that the teams voted against the idea of a pro cycling budget cap, saying they demanded a better 'model' for the sport before accepting any change.

It was another example of the power struggle and how the fight for control of the sport slows business development. Like in a hectic, high-speed sprint finish, nobody is willing to give an inch, fearful of helping a rival find a way through to victory.

The Tour de France dominance

It is widely acknowledged that the Tour de France generates 80% of a team's television exposure and sponsor visibility. A team's annual sponsor visibility, and so the funding is justified based on their results each July.

The Tour de France is what Wimbledon is to tennis: the Super Bowl of cycling. Without the global visibility of the Tour de France, pro cycling would be a niche sport. But that imbalance and near-monopoly over the sport's wealth have shackled the growth of professional cycling.

"Let them eat cake," Tour de France race director Christian Prudhomme and ASO CEO Yann Le Moenner perhaps say whenever teams ask about revenue sharing and complain about rising costs. ASO believes they created the current revenue and value of professional cycling and so deserve to control the business model.

Vaughters accepts that a shake-up of pro cycling and the adoption of a more commercially driven, franchise model would have to involve ASO, perhaps even giving them a majority stake.

It would be more revolutionary than the storming of the Bastille, but it could see the sport grow commercially and compete against other sports and forms of entertainment.

"Fundamentally, if you're going to change the entire business model of cycling, it really needs the Tour de France to be part of that," Vaughters admitted.

"Sadly, I don't see it happening. Nobody is getting along, but that's a really dumb place to be, and unfortunately, the sport has pretty much been in that dumb place since about 2006."

Despite the UCI blocking the One Cycling project, Vaughters believes in the underlying strategy of cycling's stakeholders working together.

"Essentially, there have to be enough teams to just come together, create a corporation and put on a race and sort of demonstrate that the unified model works, then we might see some changes," he concluded.

That was an amazing win for Wout van Aert at Paris-Roubaix on Sunday. It wasn't hard to see what the emotions meant for him, his family and his team, and my heart was with him too.

Van Aert has had such bad luck at Roubaix in the past, at bad times and crucial moments, as well as all the other accidents and setbacks he's had, so to come back and to win it, my God, it was an amazing ride.

He was the one who initiated the attacks with that leading group, and he was on the limit at times when Tadej Pogačar really pushed him, but it just shows that when you're a big champion, you can be really under pressure, but you can still dig so deep and keep on believing. That's exactly what he did – you could see the efforts he had to make on some sections with Pogačar and how close he was riding, but tactically he rode just a perfect race.

That said, when it was just the two of them in that long finale, I really couldn't pick a winner. Pogačar was putting Van Aert in difficulty a lot of times, and he kept trying on every long section until there just wasn't anywhere left to try.

Even when they got to the finish, and I realised Pogačar was going to bank on his sprint – which he can do very well at the end of a long race – I was afraid he might beat Van Aert, because my heart really was for Wout, because of his story and what he's been through.

I'm sure I'm not the only person who felt that, because it's clear that Van Aert is a very liked and respected guy in the peloton. He's a rider who will always do his share of work, maybe too much sometimes, but it's also about the person he is outside of the races, and he's a good guy.

Even when things go bad, he's able to control his feelings and reactions well. Ever since he came from cyclo-cross, we've been saying that he was going to win many Classics, and he has struggled to do that, for various reasons, but he didn't let those things get to him. I think that's why he was such a popular winner yesterday.

I don't think there's anybody in the peloton who doesn't like Wout van Aert – other riders probably wouldn't have as much support from their rivals as he did yesterday.

Take nothing away from Pogačar, but when a rider like that who wins so often is up against a guy who has been fighting for a victory for so long, you do start feeling like Van Aert deserves a win. But it's nothing against Pogačar: he's an unbelievable champion. Look at the last rider who won Paris-Roubaix as a Tour de France champion, you have to go all the way back to Bernard Hinault, so let's not forget that what he's doing in these Monuments is still unbelievable, even if he didn't get the five in a row on Sunday.

I think that record was probably in Pogačar's head in the finale, thinking 'this is my chance to win Roubaix and get the five Monuments' and when you're out there, you can feel that pressure. But you just have to focus on the road ahead of you and stick to the plan, which he did, but it just wasn't enough to get rid of Van Aert this time. There's nothing more he could have done in the sprint, but you could see how disappointed he was when he came across the line.

Pogačar said after the race that he'll be back, but maybe not next year, but I think that could just be the disappointment talking. He had other problems yesterday, with that first mechanical and bike change and then the second puncture when he was in the front, and he probably paid for that in the final. You just hate missing an opportunity when it's so close. So when you ask a guy at the end of a horrible day like that when he'll be back, whilst he's still majorly disappointed, it's not the question you want to hear, and it's easy to say 'yeah, I don't know when I'll be back'.

But to be honest, he has to come back. He knows he's capable of winning it, and failing to beat Van Aert in a sprint doesn't change that.

In the chaos of the cobbles, being calm is important

There were so many incidents and mechanicals yesterday, with every big rider having an issue at some point, and I was trying to think if there was a reason, but to be honest, I couldn't think of one specific factor.

I think what ended up making a difference was how the riders reacted. Van Aert had two key mechanicals, the same as Pogačar, but I don't think he had to burn as much energy to get back on either time. He took a bit longer, maybe, but he stayed calm and didn't panic at all, just kept his cool and took his time to ride back on. That was calculated and confident, and ultimately important.

Whereas with Pogačar, when he had to take the Shimano neutral bike, he did panic. The race was on and he had to make a big effort to get back. But also, when you watch it on the TV, it's easy to say to yourself, 'Why was there not more communication with his teammates? Why didn't someone stop and give him their bike?' But it's so much harder when you're there on the cobbles. With all the noise, the spectators, the shouting, the cars and bikes going over the cobbles, you can't hear each other, you might not even hear your radio, so that communication isn't easy, it all just gets lost.

Mathieu van der Poel's incident in the Trouée d'Arenberg was obviously the worst – the worst problem at the very worst moment. Riding a bike whose pedals he couldn't clip into was obviously impossible, so they probably should have just made the wheel change immediately, but it's a panic situation, so you don't always get it right.

For Van der Poel, it's probably even more frustrating because he was clearly on a very good day. He said he thought his race was over on the Arenberg, and his movements and body language did look that way at first, but he got going again. In those situations, it's important for the directeur sportif to say, 'OK, come on, let's get going. There's groups coming back, and the riders in front are going to have problems, anything could happen.' Van der Poel might have thought it was over, but it's Paris-Roubaix, you have to keep believing and stay motivated.

When he did get going, it was pretty amazing what he did, especially when he and Filippo Ganna got organised. He did the right thing pulling on the front, even though everyone was hanging onto him – he was definitely on a big day. And that's something he will be thinking about. If he hadn't had that issue, you'd think he would have been in the final, and when you have a really good feeling, it's a really big disappointment.

In the moment, you just push on, but once you get to the finish, you do start thinking, 'what a pity that happened to me'. It's something you have to accept, and Van der Poel has had really good luck to win the race the last three years, so in the end you just have to be realistic and think 'well, it's a pain, but it's Roubaix, and there's nothing you can do about it'.

The best of the rest

As much as a lot of the attention was on Van Aert, Pogačar and Van der Poel, there were some really impressive rides in the groups behind them.

Like Van der Poel, Mads Pedersen is one who probably went to bed last night thinking 'what if?' What if he'd not had that crash in Valencia, where would he be in these Classics? When you see where he is, even after coming back from that, with his performances in Roubaix, Flanders and Milan-San Remo, he will definitely be thinking that without that accident, he could have won one of these races. But you can't dwell on it for days or weeks on end, you have to think 'that part of the season is done now, I'm going to move on and think about next year'.

Stefan Bissegger also did an amazing ride in the final, and Jasper Stuyven too, clipping off in the final to get that podium spot. He attacked just at the right moment, which is something he's really good at, and he seemed to know exactly what to do yesterday. He was up against bigger and better riders in that chase group, but he played his cards perfectly and was rewarded with the podium. Soudal-QuickStep needed him this year and they needed that result – it was a big performance and he made sure they got the best possible out of Roubaix.

For all of these riders, Van Aert winning will have meant a lot, because it proves that the Classics aren't just the Van der Poel vs Pogacar show. The result will give confidence to riders like Pedersen and Ganna, too, because it shows that Roubaix is still one for the big and powerful guys. Pogačar might be able to put gaps into everyone in the climbs in Flanders, but Roubaix is different. Riders will know now that if they can hang on with the big guys and dig deep in the wheel, then they can absolutely win this race. I think it will motivate them, and hopefully, they come back fired up next year.

Could Visma have played it differently for Vos?

When I finally finished commentary and the studio recording and got to tune in to the women's Paris-Roubaix, there was only 40km to go, so when I saw those four in the lead, I thought 'Marianne Vos is going to get her Paris-Roubaix'.

Pauline Ferrand-Prévot was doing all the riding, just pulling, pulling, pulling, and it looked good, but when Franziska Koch started putting in little attacks, I thought 'my God, she must be feeling good'. Because otherwise you'd just let Pauline finish it off and go for the sprint, but instead she was able to try and attack quite a few times and from quite a long way out. So it was clear she was a threat.

Even then, though, I still felt like Marianne could take it in the sprint, and that's clearly what the two Visma-Lease a Bike riders had decided to do. Marianne obviously has a lot of experience, and she knows what she's doing, but I do wonder if when Koch started attacking, they could have changed the tactic a bit and started some one-two attacks to try and work her over a bit in the last few kilometres.

It was a complicated one because the chase group could have come back too, so they couldn't fully knock off the pace and force Koch to work, so they decided to stick to the plan and keep working. Maybe Pauline could have attacked, but she wanted to work for Marianne after last year, and they made that decision.

Marianne must have been confident in her sprint, but obviously, it didn't go her way in the velodrome. What a disappointment that must have been for her, but at the end of such a demanding race like Roubaix, you never know what will happen in the sprint.

But Visma aside, what an excellent day for Franziska Koch, what a ride from her. You could see in the recent races that she's just in excellent shape, and she made it count yesterday. With FDJ, we always talk about Demi Vollering, but the way they've been winning these Classics with all different riders, it's just an amazing start to the year and a really amazing Classics campaign.

I'm 19 years old, starting my second year as a professional, and just raced my second Tour of Flanders, a race that, for me, is 100% the hardest race that I've ever done and that there is on the calendar because of its history in cycling, how the women's race has evolved into the level it is today, and the fact that it has been like an unknown World Championships to my team, Movistar, and to our directors - it is the most important one-day race on the calendar.

For that reason, everyone wants to be their best, and for me, it was a brutal, brutal race. It was hard in the moments when people watching on TV don't realize how hard it is, that places that aren't as obvious: the flat roads with corners, the approach to climbs, and the positioning in the peloton. It's out of this world, and it is difficult to describe how much concentration and physical energy are involved. In a race like Flanders, it's constantly positioning followed by a climb. The climbs are short, but that only makes it so much harder because you get over the climb, and if the positioning was good, that's great, you're in the front group, but then the next climb's coming. So you can never, ever rest.

Compared to last year's edition, this year was a lot harder for me. The race split up after the Koppenberg, and last year, I got dropped there, like I did this year, but the race came back together last year, whereas this year it didn't. For my team, anyway, it was a complete disaster on the approach to the Koppenberg; Marlen Reusser crashed, and we were out of position going up the climb, one by one, not with each other at all. Over the top, I fought to try to come back with my teammate, Liane Lippert. We were in the second group, but it was just not possible, and the race was over for us after the Koppenberg, which is still very far from the finish, about 40km to go. It was still difficult, and compared to last year, there were some power records.

Flanders Classics doing it right

Beyond my personal performance, Movistar has a strong history with the race, with Annemiek van Vleuten, who has spoken a lot about the Monuments and the Tour of Flanders and has commented on the progression of women's cycling over the years. And now I'm on the same team as her, much younger and with much less on my palmares, but also talking about the same topics, which are really highlighted at Flanders; everyone is performing at their best, but it's also the time where we are more conscious of how women's cycling has progressed.

The level of the race and the strength of the field have improved, even compared to last year. I don't know if we broke a statistical record, but the level was mind-blowingly high yesterday. It plays a part in the increasing viewership of the women's Tour of Flanders. In my eyes, the level is continually improving, and more people are paying attention to us. Both things go hand in hand; they help and assist each other. It's nowhere near perfect; there are still many things we want to improve, but for example, we now have equal prize money at the Tour of Flanders. It's not the most important thing in terms of equality and sport, but it certainly is something great, and something that we can talk about and be super proud about; that it's now a thing in one of the biggest races in women's cycling.

'Going up Kwaremont, I honestly couldn't even think about how painful my legs felt because it's so noisy'

Having the races on the same day is a really interesting talking point, too, and many people have different opinions. Some people think that it's great for our race, the women's race, because the fans will stay and keep watching our race, but some people also think that it's better to have them on separate days, so that the women's race doesn't feel like an afterthought.

When Paris-Roubaix was held over two days, most people made a weekend of it, rather than leaving after the men's race. But, as someone who raced Flanders yesterday, I noticed that not many people left after the men's race. Many people were on the roads supporting us. Flanders Classics' system of having both races on the same day works because of the design of the course and the fact that the people on the Kwaremont, if they come and stay there, are actually not allowed to leave until the races are over because there's no way of getting out other than the road the cyclists are using.

In that sense, as someone who hasn't done the Tour de France, the crowds at Flanders were the biggest I've ever seen. Going up Kwaremont, I honestly couldn't even think about how painful my legs felt because it's so noisy. There's too much to concentrate on when you are riding up, and fans were even leaning over the barriers holding out beers - like it was a feed zone - apparently thinking that was exactly what we needed at that moment.

It was quite a powerful race. As I was in heart rate zone 5, I was also subconsciously appreciating the support, and it felt really powerful. I'm a young rider, so someone a bit older could compare it to Flanders five years ago; fewer crowds, more crowds, but for me, as a 19-year-old, I don't know anything different. I'm still very aware that this is not the sort of normal in the women's peloton, and that I'm the lucky one because I'm racing this race, and it's the best version of this race they've ever experienced.

So Flanders Classics' strategy to improve the visibility of its women's races by running them on the same day and having the women's races finish after the men's races has been a big success. As women, we have to use the men's races to grow. The men's cycling world is already so developed, and what Flanders Classics has done by attaching us to that, at least in the beginning, to speed up the growth of women's racing initially, in my eyes, is the best way that a race organizer can help.

Eventually, though, the women's races will outgrow that approach - I think that will happen - and then Flanders Classics might come back and say they actually have to separate the two races because they could potentially make double the revenue by putting the women's race on the Saturday and the men's race on the Sunday.

What they've done so far is great, and it's appropriate for the point we're at right now. Still, I hope in the future it can grow and that they'll have to reassess their strategy because it's worked and we've got the growth we needed, the boost from the men's races, and built our own unique, and of course, crossover fan base as well. Thanks to Flanders Classics.

You can also see how modern their race organisation is through their social media. I follow them on Instagram because their content is exciting, different, and modern. You get to see more riders' personalities, which is contributing to increased followers and engagement. Showing a more personal side of riders and making cycling more fun and interesting on and off the bike are great ways to make the sport more engaging.

'There's something to gain by televising more of the women's race'

And that leads me to talk about another part of the race: the coverage. This year, about 100km of the women's race was filmed. The men had around 280km of the race filmed, and I remember watching the men's race before we even started racing yesterday on the bus travelling there. That's almost all of their race filmed on television, and obviously, that's 280km compared to the 160km that we do. I would argue that our race, from start to finish, is a bit more engaging and exciting because it's shorter: we get to the climbs faster, and there's less downtime before racing starts. So, there's something to gain there by televising more of the women's race. We have to keep pushing for that, but the viewers and the general cycling community need to do the same.

I think it would benefit women's cycling as a whole; the sponsors and all the partners who put the money in, but it would benefit the race, and make the race more exciting for the early breakaways to know that if they put themselves in a break from kilometre zero, then they're getting much more television time. Ultimately, that's where the biggest gap in women's cycling lies: smaller teams need more partners and sponsors to close the gap with the top tier, whereas in men's cycling, there is much less disparity.

Gratitude

After my second experience racing at the Tour of Flanders, I'd like to say thank you to all the people associated with the race; the riders for making the level so high and making everyone want to be the best versions of themselves; the race oranisers, teams and sponsors that support the teams and the race; all the people that came to watch, to be in the VIP tent, or just stood on the roadside and cheered us on.

It's a thank you for every race, because this sport is a privilege no matter the day of the week, the place, or whether you're racing the Tour of Flanders or not. These things add up to make it the most special race on the calendar and shape how women's cycling is seen at the highest level. It's the most important race to have everything at 100%.

So, although my race, personally, and from Movistar, was a disappointment, and we were not satisfied at all, I still rode the last 40km in the group, thinking about how lucky I am to be 19 in this race, riding with girls around me who I believe have contributed so much to the sport to the point where I wouldn't be next to them in the peloton at my age and riding for Movistar team without their contribution to women's cycling. Which is quite a concept to wrap your head around as a competitor when you're both grateful for the level of women's cycling while also in that very moment, at the Tour of Flanders, wishing your legs weren't quite having to be ripped off to the same level that they are.

I'm very grateful to all the women in that race who ultimately led me there and also contributed to how women's cycling has grown into what it is today.

The Tour of Flanders is a tough race at the best of times, but yesterday's edition was frankly brutal. What a day of racing we had at De Ronde.

I was commentating on the men's race, and even early on, the difficulty caused by the pace of UAE Team Emirates-XRG was clear to see. After that big break had got away down the road and built up a healthy advantage, Mikkel Bjerg and Nils Politt were set to work.

The way they were riding, you could see riders clinging to the back of the bunch saying 'My God, what's this about?' and then we had big downpours of showers, too. Even when the peloton was momentarily split in two by a level-crossing and the break were able to eke out an extra two minutes, it didn't hamper their efforts.

If you weren't feeling good, this wasn't a race for you. If it was your first Tour of Flanders, you were probably saying 'What the f*** is this all about?' because in the first 50 kilometres you could see the riders feeling it already and the bunch lined out.

Yep, it was a horrible, torture-fest of a race for some, but a great race for others who thrive on that difficulty. Tadej Pogačar (UAE Team Emirates-XRG) wanted it to be hard all day, and he ensured that was the case in the final stages.

Pogačar's power proved too much

I suspect a lot of riders were thinking that the race would only ignite when the Oude Kwaremont was hit for a second time, but my God, the men's race came to life before we even hit the Molenberg. There was a side wind to contend with too, so UAE ramped the pace up to the limit there, putting rivals into the gutter before the climb and that certainly caught a few people out, Wout van Aert included.

The Belgian managed to get back into a good position, but there were others who missed the train for good, and they didn't see the front of the race again.

Naturally, Pogačar was riding a lot, but I think Remco Evenepoel (Red Bull-Bora-Hansgrohe) contributed too much for my liking, considering that he had teammates like Gianni Vermeersch and the Van Dijke brothers still within the group.

It was always going to be a race that came down to who could push that little bit more than others in the key moments, and of course, Pogačar lived up to the billing on the second ascent of the Kwaremont, as he forced a selection. Mathieu van der Poel (Alpecin-Premier Tech) was momentarily out of position when the move was made, and perhaps he was playing cute there, not having his nose in the wind, but he did have to make an effort to move up. While he did it very well, every little effort can add up, come the decisive moments.

When the five-rider group of Pogačar, Van der Poel, Evenepoel, Van Aert (Visma-Lease a Bike), and Mads Pedersen (Lidl-Trek) went clear, it was one of those iconic Classics moments, but that high pace meant it didn't last long.

Van der Poel and Evenepoel were doing their fair share of the work until the Belgian was dropped. Van der Poel still came through afterwards, but he wasn't pushing on in the same way. He was thinking 'Okay, I have to just conserve here. conserve energy and leave Pogačar to do the brunt of the work.'

The Dutchman knew what was coming, and when Evenepoel tried to come back, and got within 100m at one point, Pogačar just turned up the gas again, which is telling of the really good form he is in.

It was the same case on the final time up the Kwaremont. On TV, Pogačar's attacks don't look that difficult, but when you're out there and think about the way the entire race was ridden, my God. Everybody was on the limit in that final, even with 50km to go for some, but Tadej, he had a lot more in the tank than anyone else.

Pogačar's victory means that he could feasibly be the first rider to hold all five Monument titles at the same time if fortune favours him next weekend at Paris-Roubaix. That's a big 'if' given the mechanicals and type of race that Roubaix is. Nonetheless, if someone had said to me four or five years ago that a rider would be able to win all five Monuments within 12 months, I'd say you're totally crazy.

It's very likely that we'll see a Pogačar-Van der Poel battle once again, especially with how the Slovenian fared in his Roubaix debut last year, but the lack of climbs will swing the odds away from Pogačar and towards the larger, more powerful riders like Van Aert, Filippo Ganna (Ineos Grenadiers) and Van der Poel.

Evenepoel puts doubts to bed on debut

I was actually a bit afraid for Evenepoel coming into Sunday's race, should he get into difficulty fighting for position ahead of the key points of the route, but the Olympic champion impressed me on his Flanders debut.

Even if he'd announced his debut six months earlier, there would be huge pressure on him given his status in Flemish cycling, but to do it like he did, keeping it secret until days before the race, there was always going to be more pressure. If he didn't perform yesterday, the Belgian press would knock him for the way he played it, but fortunately, he put those thoughts to bed.

And okay, he rode a bit too much for my liking, but that's because he wanted the race to be difficult and a thinner field, where fighting for position was less important. It turned into the perfect scenario for him, but ultimately, he paid for those earlier efforts where he tried to force the pace.

The ride he did afterwards, though, when he was alone, and almost regaining contact, was impressive. He clearly had a lot to give, but maybe just lacked that experience.

Will he be back next year? That will be interesting to see. After his performance today, it's certainly possible for him to win this race, and it could well change how he looks at the calendar, especially with riders like Isaac del Toro (UAE Team Emirates-XRG) and Paul Seixas (Decathlon CMA CGM) also coming through. Either way, he will have gained a lot of confidence from the way he performed yesterday.

Vollering wins battle of position and power

In a similar vein to Pogačar, when Demi Vollering (FDJ United-SUEZ) is on good form, and her teammates, notably Franzi Koch who was up there right until the decisive point, are able to put the rest of the bunch in difficulty and inflict damage, it can almost make the victory look effortless.

Yet Vollering was in a dominant mood and when she attacked, chasing her down was always going to be very difficult for Pauline Ferrand-Prévot (Visma-Lease a Bike), Lotte Kopecky (SD Worx-ProTime) and Puck Pieterse (Fenix-Premier Tech).

Across the two races, there weren't many crashes, but those that did occur, were quite influential, especially for the women's field. Both Marlen Reusser (Movistar) and Kim Le Court-Pienaar (AG Insurance-Soudal) were forced out of the race before the action started after a nasty crash, so that certainly made Vollering's task slightly easier.

Then, when it came to the Kwaremont, she pushed her rivals into the red, and that makes it incredibly hard to come back from. Only 15 or so male riders tackled the final ascent of the Kwaremont faster than Vollering, which shows just how powerful she is when she's on her day and delivered into the position where she needs to be.

For the chase groups behind, even when they started to work together, Vollering was always in control, right up to the line.

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The start of the junior E3 Classic is a strange place. Just a few hundred metres up the road, WorldTour pros are getting ready in warm buses, hordes of fans already surrounding them. Round the corner, on a quiet, residential street, there are 17 and 18-year-olds getting changed in vans.

Some of the riders are actually riding WorldTour teams' bikes, or wearing their helmets – some even their kit – but here they're on national team duty, where budgets don't even stretch to a camper, unless you're Belgian.

Milling around the basic line-up of vehicles are coaches, parents, and a very small number of supporters. But the most interesting figures are those in expensive coats or team-issue jackets, chatting directly with riders, and getting their number – both metaphorically and literally.

These people are agents and scouts, here to identify the next generation of talent before they even turn 19, and – ideally – get them on their books.

We know by now that these relationships are starting earlier and earlier, with top riders turning pro straight out of junior ranks, or at least signing for a WorldTour team's development squad. The fight for the next big star is fierce, and everyone wants to lock talent in early.

'Scouting' can come in a lot of different forms, and these days can happen via Instagram DMs as much as anything else, but with agents and scouts on the road throughout the year, it's clear that nothing beats actually getting out there and meeting riders.

Junior races like E3, or perhaps the junior Trofeo Alfredo Binda a couple of weeks ago, are quietly some of the most important days of the year. Winning is important, yes, but every rider also knows that eyes from the pro ranks will be on them, and a good ride here could be a stepping stone towards a pro contract.

A rider is more than the sum of their watts

When everything nowadays is on ProCyclingStats and Strava, you might think that talent scouts can do all their work from home, just crunching the numbers to find the junior most statistically likely to become a good elite rider. But actually, they're looking for much, much more than that.

"Personally, I look firstly at the humility of the rider," Jayco AlUla scout Giovanni Visconti tells Cyclingnews after E3, perhaps not the first quality you'd expect a scout to pick up on.

"I like to speak with them and see how they love their sport and how they try to do their best. Clearly, we also look at the physical values and how it works in terms of results. Another Important thing is the ability to stay in a big group, the ability on a descent, for example. After the race, often I also look at their behaviour with team staff and teammates."

Looking at a rider's data or power numbers is one element of identifying talent, but when it comes to spotting riders teams might want to tap up for the long term, pure numbers are not enough to go on, and big wins or high power aren't everything.

"Values are really important, but for me they are only the base to start looking at the rider on the road," Visconti explained. "There are riders with fantastic values that don’t show it on the road and riders who don’t have great values but show more. There has to be a compromise between results and values. From there, you know that you can work to improve."

At a race like E3, a scout like Visconti will be at the start and finish, but also out on the course, picking out the key moments to go and watch. With no TV footage of these races, and little other reporting, being on the ground is essential.

Visconti spends a lot of his time on the road, and will be looking for specific things at specific races.

"In races like E3, I go to see the ability of the rider to keep positions, to stay in a group in a race with small and difficult roads," he explains. "If I’m looking for a 'Classics man', I'm also watching the ability to read the race, to move in the right moment."

Representatives from teams are one big part of the scouting ecosystem, but the other big part is agents and agencies. Independent agents might do it all themselves, whilst bigger agencies will have dedicated scouts, but all the agents will also have half an eye on rising riders.

"It's crazy how competitive it's getting now on the women's side. People are looking at under 17s already, which, for me, is insane," Loren Rowney, former pro and now rider agent at The Team – formerly Wasserman – says.

For Rowney, scouting is a smaller part of her job, as The Team have David Bartelet in that dedicated role, but it's something she's attentive to all the same, and takes a lot more than just looking at results, or even just at the main races.

"This is a good example. We had Binda a few weeks ago, and they have the Piccolo Binda race. And that actually came down to a bunch sprint. Now if you just look at the top three there, you'd think 'OK, it came down to a bunch sprint' but if you didn't see the race and didn't know [how] it panned out and you didn't know which riders spent time off the front, it would be really hard to know what kind of athlete you're looking at. Did they just sit in the whole race and then kick at the finish?," she says.

"Where you can sometimes get a glimmer of the potential of an athlete is coming to these kermesses in Belgium. One of my clients was racing one on the weekend, and the girl who got second at Binda under 19s, a German rider [Edda Bieberle], I was blown away by how she rode that race.

"She had a crack and she put a minute and a half into the peloton, and there were some other strong riders there, but the way that she just attacked the race, I was like 'this is a rider who has talent'."

The next steps

Getting onto a talent scout's radar is very much just the start of the story for any promising rider. A thousand different factors will come into what happens next, whether it's how they perform in the next races, what a scout thinks of their personality off the bike, what they're looking for in a team, and much, much more.

"After an impressive performance, I'll try to find out if the rider has an agent or not so I contact the agent or the rider in some way and ask the permission from his parents to speak with him, and also have access to his training platform," Visconti explains.

"Then I introduce the rider to our scouting group to discuss and decide how to act with him. From there, we try to keep in contact and see each other again in another race."

Might there be more performance tests that the team wants to undertake with a rider? Maybe, but that's probably less common than you think, with less tangible qualities more important to many scouts.

"Sometimes, when looking at their training platform is not enough, or there’s something not so clear, we can ask them to do a short test during their training. Nothing special. I think every team has its protocol. But often we don’t need to ask for a test," Visconti says.

On the agent side, the goal is somewhat the same, to make connections with talented young riders – and Rowney also points to gaining the trust of a young rider's parents as a key part of the process. However, the next steps and the aims of the partnership are different.

Agents won't be testing a rider's FTP, and indeed the goal of their relationship is often to be a support off the bike to help navigate the journey into pro cycling.

"A lot of WorldTour teams now will admit that they don't have the means to develop these 18-year-olds, because it's not just the talent side of things; you're dealing with a very young human being here," Rowney says.

"At the races, they're there in a very safe environment with the team, but once they go home and the races are done, and maybe things didn't go well, then you've just dropped them off in a foreign country and said 'OK, good luck processing that'.

"And with the demands on WorldTour teams now too, sometimes that's just not right for you, and for a lot of athletes it's sink or swim."

Why so early?

The big question in all of this is, why is this all happening so early nowadays? Why is the start of E3 now half race, half business meeting?

For teams, it's clear that top riders' careers are peaking earlier, and in the era of ultra-long contracts, it's imperative to lock talent in early. You can't let them be snapped up by someone else. Many team managers also talk about the importance of getting a rider enmeshed in the ethics and working style of a team early, too.

It means that there's not a lot of choice in whether you get involved with this rat race or not.

"Junior scouting is certainly more important now than in the past. Cycling and sport in general is moving forward quickly. We can’t stop this process," Visconti says.

"So we have to do our best to try to find talents, but also pay attention to their correct [development] and give them the best to grow up well, without forgetting that they are so young and life is not only cycling."

On the agency side, the very fundamental reason is that the sooner you sign a rider, the sooner you can be taking a cut of their salary, which these days can be huge even for very young riders. Rowney admits that, like in any industry, there will be agents more motivated by that than anything else, but many are also very interested in caring for and nurturing their clients, particularly the youngest ones, and perhaps not pushing the pro pipeline too soon.

"OK, you can have those generational talents like Cat Ferguson, but for both men and women – women more so when you consider our hormones and everything – just because you're a phenomenal under-17 doesn't necessarily mean it's going to translate into being an elite athlete. Plus at that age, they shouldn't feel that pressure," she says.

"You can still start learning the aspects of what it means to be an elite athlete and what that looks like, the importance of good food, recovery, all those sorts of things, you can learn as a junior, but the pressure now on these young athletes is insane. And I do wonder sometimes about the emotional toll it's taking."

Navigating contracts is one part of an agents job, but many also help riders get set up with a new home, help them find proper rehabilitation after injuries, and many other smaller, more pastoral things.

From the outside, watching the start of E3 and prevalence of scouts, it's easy to wonder if young riders are becoming commodities for teams and agents to fight over, or if the two sides of the scouting world are at odds, trying to get to talent before the other.

"I've never really though of it as like, we've got to get to them before they get to a team," Rowney says. "But I'm sure that is why some agents are trying to sign under-17s, to get in there before they start making any decisions."

"There are many agents now and they are working more every year with young talent, so we have to work with them," Visconti adds.

"Sometime it’s easy, sometimes it's not, but it’s part of the game. It’s not so important to find riders without agents, I think most important is that agents can give the right advice to their riders, not forgetting that the family must be the first place where important choices should come from."

At E3 juniors, Italy's Brandon Fedrizzi won the race, whilst Matilde Rossignoli won the important Piccolo Binda. Edda Bieberle, the second-placed rider Rowney spoke about, has already taken two more wins in Belgium since then.

These might not be names you know yet, but talent scouts will know them and everything about 50 other talented riders, too. Whether it's on a quiet street in Belgium or in an Instagram DM, the process of unleashing the next generation of talent has very much begun.

We're into the thick of things as far as the spring Classics are concerned, and Flemish Holy Week is already delivering. Over the last few days, E3 Saxo Classic and the newly renamed In Flanders Field – what used to be Gent-Wevelgem – both proved that Mathieu van der Poel isn't untouchable; you just have to play your cards right.

In a different vein, Lorena Wiebes reminded many, if it was even necessary, that even without a leadout or teammate in sight, she can dominate a sprint finish.

Before we get into Sunday's action, let's rewind to Friday and an almighty finale in E3. It was very nice to see that Van der Poel was catchable, not least because it made what would've otherwise been a textbook solo breakaway victory far more interesting. It's hard to say whether he was racing at his best or whether his Milan-San Remo crash was still affecting him.

The chase group of Florian Vermeersch (UAE Team Emirates-XRG), Per Strand Hagenes (Visma-Lease a Bike), Jonas Abrahamsen (Uno-X Mobility) and Stan Dewulf (Decathlon CMA CGM), who was the last survivor of the day's early break, worked incredibly well together, up to a point.

All their hard work was undone with 1500m remaining, and it's always the case. Who's going to close the final few metres? Because the rider who closes the gap is going to throw their own chance of winning by doing the work to bridge across.

It would be interesting to understand what Van der Poel was thinking at this point because he went to sit up and throw in the towel, only for the guys behind to start playing the game and looking at each other. I reckon he got a shout from the team car: 'OK, they're looking at each other, just go all out for it now and see what happens.'

Or perhaps when he looked around, he could see them spread across the road, all four of them waiting for the other to do a final pull. It's tricky in those situations because, regardless of how well the group works together to bring the time down, they will inevitably start to spare their own energy when they see that the catch is about to be made. The closer the group get, the less work each rider wants to do.

When you're in that situation, you have to play the game, as Vermeersch did, by throwing your hands in the air and shouting at the others, in the hope that someone will panic and ride through, but nobody did on this occasion, and Van der Poel was able to sneak away again.

Get your cards right, and the big hitters are beatable

Of course, 48 hours can change a lot when it comes to a minor injury like Van der Poel's, and from questioning his strength at E3, to watching him do what he does best at In Flanders Fields, full-on efforts for short periods on the bergs, like he's so used to doing through the winter cyclo-cross season.

Thankfully, though, someone else was able to follow his fiercest of attacks in the form of Wout van Aert. The Belgian is definitely coming good at the right time, which is pleasing because the Classics need riders of his calibre. If he's on a good day at the upcoming Tour of Flanders and Paris-Roubaix, he can be up there challenging against the top guys.

The last man this duo dropped on the final ascent of the Kemmelberg was Vermeersch, and as I also touched on in my earlier spring Classics column after Omloop Het Nieuwsblad, he was, once again, far too generous with his turns. He was riding strongly before the Kemmelberg, but in this situation, with Van Aert and Van der Poel, he has to expect an explosive attack at any moment, and save his legs as much as possible in anticipation. He has to say to himself, 'Can I just stay with them over the last climb, then I'm with them in the final kilometres'.

OK, when you're in a group with the likes of Van Aert and Van der Poel, there is an element of respect, but when you're in the running for a one-day win in Flanders, you can throw that respect out of the window for a little while. He needs to skip turns or just go through very lightly; as we say in cycling terms, you have to just 'fall through'.

Once the duo were on their own, Van der Poel was taking his turns at first, but with 20km or so to go, he eased off. There was a little discussion there, and perhaps Van der Poel may have felt the fatigue coming on.

On the one hand, he wants to preserve his energy if they stay away, but on the other, he also has the luxury of Jasper Philipsen in the group behind; team-wise, it was the perfect scenario.

For Van Aert, it would have been disappointing to realise his hands were tied. However, Visma-Lease a Bike will take positives from this going into the second portion of the cobbled Classics, with Christophe Laporte also looking sharp in the sprint.

The Frenchman earned a nice podium spot, but Philipsen proved the fastest in the end, even if there was a moment where he looked boxed in. That's where the race situation will have benefited Alpecin-Premier Tech's sprinter. With Van der Poel up front for much of the day, it will have given him confidence and eased his workload, as it's not up to their team to bring the race back together.

Looking ahead, even though the favourites still came out on top at both E3 and In Flanders Fields, the races have shown rival teams that there's an alternative way to beat the big hitters. If the bunch or a chase group get organised behind, that catch is possible as the race enters its final stages. Of course, the Tour of Flanders and Paris-Roubaix are another step up, and you have the added complication of Tadej Pogačar thrown into the mix, too.

Wiebes can do it all

Lorena Wiebes is a master and put on another magnificent display yesterday.

The SD Worx-Protime sprinter found herself in a five-rider break after attacking on the Kemmelberg and put in several big efforts to close down counter-attacks.

She was fortunate that the gap back to the peloton was dwindling as the lead group reached the final kilometres, because it prevented any games from her breakaway companions. They had to ride, or risk missing out on a top-five finish altogether. If the pace had gone out of the chase altogether, it would have been fascinating to see the finale play out.

Even when UAE Team ADQ used their numerical advantage, Wiebes looked so in control and bridged across smartly. She didn't just immediately jump onto their wheel; instead, she rolled across at a steady pace. That's the perfect way to play it for someone like Wiebes, who is in such great shape and looked totally in control.

You couldn't fault UAE either; they played it almost perfectly, too, tactically speaking. Their only problem was that, when you're in a group with a top sprinter, you're not just thinking about winning, but also the podium, so they kept on riding, which played into Wiebes' hands.

They were forced to continue riding until they were absolutely certain that they wouldn't be caught, and by that point, it's too late to make your numbers count.

Lidl-Trek's youngster Fleur Moors nearly frightened Wiebes right on the line with a really fast finish, but when you're winning sprints like the Dutch woman is winning them, you know when you've done enough. She got a little surprise, but personally, I think the TV cameras and commentators made it look closer than it actually was.

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What a finale to Milan-San Remo. It's a race that's always about the finale, as we know, but in this year's races, both men's and women's, they were something special. In many ways, the unfortunate crash for Tadej Pogačar, Mathieu van der Poel and others just before the Cipressa, and the way they immediately bounced back from that and attacked on the climb, only added to how special this year's edition of the men's race was.

After the crash, you'd say to most normal riders, 'Take a moment to recover for a little while here,' but Pogačar was immediately flying up the outside of everybody and back to the front. To go from hitting the deck to what occurred next in such a short space of time, you have to give it to him; he just keeps on putting in these mind-boggling performances.

Okay, Pogačar was fortunate that neither he nor his bike were too badly damaged by the crash, unlike both Van der Poel and Wout van Aert, because it allowed him to get back to the front of the pack sooner. However, his UAE Team Emirates-XRG teammates, Brandon McNulty and Isaac del Toro, with the odds already stacked against them due to Jan Christen's earlier crash, did a great job returning him to the front and ramping up the speed.

You could say after the crash that he had nothing to lose, but in reality, being able to actually put a plan like that – attacking on the Cipressa – into action is completely different. Considering he had absolutely no time to recover, you'd forgive UAE for falling back to an attack on the Poggio. But instead, they decide to make the race explode right there and then. It's mind-blowing racing from Pogačar. But that's the kind of rider he is. Tactics? He doesn't need any tactics.

When the three of them, Pogačar, Van der Poel, and Tom Pidcock, got away, you could quickly see that the Dutchman was feeling the effects of his crash. Pidcock started to share the load, which makes sense when there's a podium spot essentially in the bag. But as soon as the Briton did, Pogačar attacked over the top, so he didn't ride after that, and I can understand that approach because if you're starting to feel it in the legs, and Pogačar's trying to hit you with those efforts, you say, 'I'm not riding anymore.'

'Pogačar descended like a demon'

On the Poggio, Pogačar continued with that killer mentality in the way he rode that climb, and it did indeed kill off Van der Poel's hopes of a third win. Pidcock really had to dig deep because there was no sign of Pogačar starting to tire or feel the effects of his crash. By the time they reached the top, he would have gained confidence, and that's where you start believing that victory is possible. What was most surprising on the descent, though, and surely for Pidcock too, was the way Pogačar, despite his crash, went down the Poggio like a demon, almost making it too difficult for the Pinarello-Q36.5 man to follow him.

By the time they reached the Via Roma, Pidcock looked to be really digging deep when riding on the front – of course, that could well have been a bluff. But ultimately, in the sprint, there's nothing more he could've done against Pogačar. There must have been wind coming from the left, as Pogačar positioned himself well on the right side of the road and just mastered the sprint magnificently. He didn't hesitate, even when Pidcock tried to start the sprint early; he just closed the door fractionally on the right, forcing Pidcock to knock off his effort and come around the outside.

Would there have been a different outcome had Pidcock played a different tactic in the sprint? We'll never know, but what's certain is how impressive their power was in the closing stages of a 300km race – Pogačar just had that extra amount to stay ahead.

It shouldn't diminish Pidcock's ride, though; it was a super day for him. He was able to stick with the Slovenian, who shaved another 10 seconds of his Cipressa time; the Briton put in a monster ride, but unfortunately, he came up against a bigger monster. Nonetheless, he shouldn't have any regrets. He'll take great confidence into the Ardennes and potentially this race again next year.

I know Pogačar hinted that he won't be at Milan-San Remo next year, but I think he's said those comments in the heat of the moment, after a hectic finale. If he means what he said, though, it will certainly change how the men's race plays out. I don't see another team controlling the race, in the finale, as UAE do, so it may be a more open race, for the likes of Van Aert – who put in a great performance to claim the final podium spot despite a bike change – Filippo Ganna, and others already mentioned to tackle.

A tactical masterclass helped Kopecky win with ease

In the women's race, Lotte Kopecky looked really strong on the Poggio, and SD Worx-Protime benefited from having two cards to play. Lorena Wiebes might have won last year, but as I said in the build-up, you might get over the Poggio in the lead group one year, but the next it's a different story, depending on how the race is ridden.

They just went full gas on the Poggio, so for the sprinters, the real true sprinters, it was a difficult task.

Kopecky followed and did what she had to do. She's able to get over challenging climbs. If we think back to the Tour de France Femmes in recent years, she showed amazing climbing form for someone who is really fast in a sprint as well. She showed that once again on Saturday, manoeuvring the race situation, and played her tactics well.

The sprint on the Via Roma suits her perfectly, and then when you offer her a leadout as if you're one of her own teammates, as UAE Team ADQ's Dominika Włodarczyk did, then she's bound to win with ease, as Kopecky did.

Of course, the race was also impacted by a nasty crash coming off the Cipressa. It's always a dangerous portion of the route, after so many kilometres in the legs and with tension reaching its peak; in the women's race, they were really pushing the pace to the limit here. Yet it's not the first time this descent has caught the peloton out over the years; it's a real danger. Nonetheless, going onto the Poggio and for the final stages of the race, it changed the dynamic in the women's bunch.

As Monuments go, Milan-San Remo is unique. It's a long, drawn-out route, and yet it's all about the final. Take the Tour of Flanders, for example, there’s possibly 10 sections of the course where you can blow the race apart and tee up victory – whereas here, you’ve got one, possibly two, in the closing stages. Some riders would like to try something earlier to get the win, or even just a podium spot, but unfortunately, you have to wait until the very end to see what you can do.

Having won La Classicissima twice during my career, and finished inside the top 10 in seven other editions, I know better than most that it all comes down to who you are and how good you are at that moment.

Of course, for the men's race this year, Tadej Pogačar and Mathieu van der Poel are the two big favourites. I expect the Slovenian to throw everything he's got at Saturday's race, because it's both the race he wants to win the most right now, but also the hardest race for him to win, too, given his current competition.

Van der Poel, having seen him in action at Opening Weekend and Tirreno-Adriatico, you can tell he's in excellent shape. So, he's going to be right there on Pogačar's wheel and hard to shake off. If the pair come to the finish together, I find it highly unlikely that Pogačar can beat the two-time winner.

His only option is on the Poggio. Say a few riders get a gap, and you're able to play some games in the final kilometres, things will start to get complicated. But for UAE Team Emirates-XRG, while they can win it on the Poggio, the work of his team – which are fractionally weaker than last year’s, given the absence of Tim Wellens and Jhonatan Narváez – has to start on the Cipressa with an infernal pace that puts everybody in difficulty, not least Van der Poel and Filippo Ganna. If that works out for them, then on the Poggio, you try to finish off the riders who are still left clinging to their talisman's wheel.

Of course, as I mentioned earlier, much of winning Milan-San Remo is how you feel in your mind and legs in the moment, and there could be a touch of hesitation and nerves with Pogačar. Van der Poel isn’t as desperate to win this race, nor is he necessarily in a position where he needs to attack on the final climb, because he knows the odds favour him in a reduced sprint situation. It's the same reason why I wouldn't be worried to see the Dutchman heavily outnumbered by UAE riders after the Cipressa has been tackled, because the pair's tactics are completely different.

If you look back to last year, Pogačar thought he had Van der Poel on the limit, only for him to put in an attack just before the crest of the Poggio. It was probably a pretty heavy blow to Pogačar, who must've said to himself, 'Oh, my God, this fella is going to attack me.'

Similarly, on the descent, I don't think Pogačar would be bold enough to try too much because he knows he can't distance Van der Poel there; he's made that mistake before. Besides, I doubt he'll take crazy risks to get a gap, because it puts himself in danger.

For all my focus on the likely Pogačar-Van der Poel duel – and I do believe the latter to be the favourite – there's always a couple of riders that you say 'My God, he's on a good day,' and I think we can't completely discount the likes of Ganna, Tom Pidcock, Wout van Aert and even Jasper Stuyven. But, if I were going to the bookmakers, I would put some money on Isaac del Toro.

Why? Well, I think he could be the danger man who could benefit from the two favourites marking each other's every move up and over the Poggio. If Del Toro goes, and Van der Poel reacts to close down the move, it offers Pogačar an opportunity to counter. Similarly, should the Mexican attack and get a 15-second gap, there could be a stand-off that ultimately leaves Del Toro clear on the Via Roma.

Amidst the chaos, a plan and self-confidence are equally valuable

While the women's race is shorter and only in its second year back on the race calendar, I suspect the tactics will be similar to those in the men's edition, finishing a few hours later. The Cipressa will thin down the field, before a final selection on the Poggio. However, I could see somebody riding away alone, or maybe a group of four or five riders.

A reduced bunch sprint saw Lorena Wiebes claim victory last year, but if the race splinters further, I feel it could be a tough ask for her to repeat her 2025 heroics. She will have to really dig deep to stay in there, especially with the climbing prowess elsewhere on the startlist. Kasia Niewiadoma-Phinney showed strong form at Strade Bianche, as did Puck Pieterse, and there's also Lotte Kopecky and Elisa Longo Borghini to add into the mix.

Longo Borghini's climbing ability is stronger than that of the pure sprinters, which provides her with an advantage, in my opinion. As for SD Worx-Protime, going into a race with multiple options – in Wiebes and Kopecky – can work better at Milan-San Remo than in other Classics. In cobbled Classics, like the Tour of Flanders or Paris-Roubaix, the plan can go out of the window very early, after 60 or 70 kilometres, because of the parcours, how other teams tackle the race, and the higher chance of suffering a mechanical.

Whereas at Milan-San Remo, the element of surprise, which could swiftly rip your team's well-laid plan to pieces, is far lower. So it is a race in which a plan can actually work out quite well.

However, for what the first Monument of the season might lack in potential tactical surprises, the 300km route creates a psychological element unlike any other one-day race. It's a slow, slow build-up before the Capi, where it starts to wind up. That's where keeping position becomes a priority, and it can be difficult because there are another 100 riders all trying to do the same ahead of the Cipressa. If you get caught up in a crash, then it could well be game over.

I can recall from my own racing days, everybody shouting as they fight for position, and plenty of bad language being thrown about. If you even touched an Italian rider, they'd go crazy!

So that constant tension is difficult. I don't think physically it's too challenging for the pelotons nowadays, considering the distances that they can do in training or at other Monuments. But, mentally, it's a different story.

Should you overcome this early tension and avoid any potential crashes, finding yourself in the top 15-20 riders on the Cipressa, then that's the place to be. It's then all about how good you feel and your choice of tactic, depending on whether you want a sprint or to attack over the Poggio. Either way, it's all about having the confidence within yourself to execute the plan.

Tadej Pogačar moved clear as the outright most successful rider in Strade Bianche history with his fourth victory on Saturday, and to be honest, I think he did so with some energy still left in the tank.

While on commentary duty, we discussed what his rivals could actually do to prevent him from winning one-day races, as when you look at UAE Team Emirates-XRG's team and the Slovenian himself, there's no way you can beat Pogačar with the way he's riding at the moment.

His team knows how to control the race and the breakaway; they just let them go and then slowly ramp up the pace until they need to blow it into pieces, which is when the likes of Florian Vermeersch, Jan Christen, and Isaac del Toro – all riders individually capable of winning a race like this – set a pace so high, that when Pogačar attacks, there's nobody that looks capable of following him.

Only perhaps, my man of the day, Paul Seixas. The way the Frenchman rode, while clearly on the limit and perhaps lacking experience in these race situations, was promising. He almost made it back across to the UAE leader after losing a few bike lengths, but it's easier said than done on those gravel roads, and Pogačar showed his might by being able to accelerate again when he saw the 19-year-old closing in.

If Seixas was able to make contact with Pogačar's back wheel and momentarily recover, it could have been a totally different race.

Nonetheless, for his first outing at Strade Bianche, while I was expecting a good ride from him, I didn't predict anything as strong as that. It was a really, really impressive ride, especially when you consider he was able to ride Del Toro off his wheel on the Via Santa Catarina at the end, after the Mexican sat on and didn't offer a turn, which really emphasises how big a ride it was from the Frenchman.

If I were to pick fault with Seixas and Decathlon's approach to this year's race, though, I'd question why, after Pogačar had escaped up the road, Seixas was the man pulling on the front of the chase group. There were approximately a dozen riders in the group, and he had two teammates spitting at the rear end of it. It's hard to understand that tactic. Seixas was the other guy potentially able to win that race, especially when you think about it being Pogačar's first race back; he may have hit fatigue with 25km to go, or even suffered a puncture. Keep the gap below a minute, and you just never know, but the team is sitting at the rear while their leader is riding at the front.

At that point, the team should get to the front and try to hold a high tempo. If they can keep the gap steady, then Seixas could attack from the group and attempt to bridge over. It was surprising that they didn't use up his teammates at that point.

The first of many Seixas vs Pogačar battles?

Of course, even if a rider attacked from the chase group, contending with Pogačar, who didn't even look to be struggling, is a completely different question. He just rides at his own rhythm, and he knows what's happening behind, because the team car is there providing him with updates. He's got so much experience attacking at 50, 60 or 80km to go, he's worked it out to a fine art.

What also worked in Pogačar's favour this year was the additional elevation added to the route. The organisers have gone totally crazy with that alteration because it's clear that the harder you make the route, the fewer riders there will be vying for the win.

I think Pogačar proved on Saturday that he was untouchable again, except for Seixas, who stepped up big time. With Tadej, you always say, 'Well, it's his first race back, will he be good enough?' But when you look at what he's doing in December, riding up Coll de Rates at crazy speeds with a team and knocking so much time off his previous record, the guy's level just doesn't drop, regardless of whether it's March or December.

Watching this race unfold, and looking ahead to the Ardennes Classics, I was thinking, 'Thank God Paul Seixas is coming through the ranks' because unless someone else rides into great form next month – the Cobbled Classics are a different story – Seixas looks like the rider that can get very close, or maybe even match Pogačar in those hillier Classics.

That's something I'd really like to see this season from Seixas. I'm also aware that his strong early-season form immediately raises the question of whether he should be racing at the Tour de France this summer. Is there much foundation in that rumour? I don't know. But it's interesting to think about, because the French press and the cycling fanbase will naturally put pressure on him given his current trajectory.

I'm firmly against the idea, though. It would be the wrong thing to do to send Seixas to the Tour this year, and I hope that Decathlon CMA CGM have patience. When you put a guy like that into the Tour, with his character of racing, he's going to get into the action. You can't send a rider into a race for a week to gain experience, which, years ago, they sometimes did with talented youngsters. The races that Seixas is competing in at the moment are where his focus should remain.

A wrong turn and a blockbuster finale

It's not controversial to say that for all of the talking points in the men's race, Strade Bianche Donne proved the more entertaining of the two editions; from mechanicals and the chase group being led off course, to an almighty final kilometre that saw Elise Chabbey of FDJ-United-SUEZ come out on top.

I can understand both sides of the argument, with the chase group taking the wrong turn. I could see the state of the road, with stones sticking up and thought it didn't look quite right as they kept going. I was surprised that someone didn't immediately think, 'this is not the way, this is not the reconnaissance we've done', but again, when you're in the heat of the moment, the race is on, and you're maybe on the limit a bit, it's understandable to take your eye off the route.

They do follow the route on their bike computers, but at the speed they're going on a very fast section of the course, is a rider going to question the motorbike? Similarly, a rider further back in the group will follow the wheels in front of them. The organisers could have had better signage there; however, UCI rules place responsibility for following the race route on the rider, regardless of whether a race vehicle takes a wrong turn. It's a difficult one, but it's always been that you should know the route yourself.

As for the final kilometres of the women's race, what a battle.

Small groups have hit the final climb together before, but the Santa Catarina ramp typically separates the wheat from the chaff ahead of the final few corners. Here they were all fighting for the win still, so getting the right run-in to the corners became key, and shoulders were touching as the tension rose.

Chabbey was half a wheel back, and it worked in her favour, providing a good line and run of speed, as others lost momentum. They were all fighting to be well-placed in those corners, but the Swiss rider was able to choose the better line and held on really well.

It's another tough pill to swallow for Kasia Niewiadoma-Phinney, who picked up her fourth runner-up spot in Siena. When you're so close on so many occasions, and you want to win, it's only natural to be more nervous there in the finale. But unfortunately, positioning cost her and others in the final corners. A clean run, and it could have been a different result.

For Niewadoma-Phinney, if she was able to sacrifice slightly more on the final climb, to come into the final few corners with perhaps just one other rider, then I think she could've had a better shot at the win.

That being said, it shouldn't detract from an amazing turnaround by FDJ-United-SUEZ. After Vollering's puncture and wrong turn, her teammates were able to pick up the pieces and finish it off – it was a dream final for the team, with Chabbey claiming her first-ever one-day win, and Franzisca Koch clinching the final podium spot.

Ever since bikes were first invented, people have been using them to set records, and many of those people have been women. But what is it about records, why are we so obsessed with them? A quest for immortality, a need to tick something off, "because it's there", like George Mallory said of Everest, or perhaps a desire to raise awareness for a cause?

The Guinness World Records website has more than 50 pages devoted to women's and men's cycling records. They range from the silly (the world's longest, tallest and smallest rideable bikes – 55.16m, 7.77m and 8.4cm respectively, since you ask) to the astounding, such as the greatest distance cycled in a year, or the fastest speed achieved behind a pacer (both of these records have been set by women).

Setting records has been a constant, recurring theme in the history of women's cycling: for the best part of 150 years, women's records have challenged received ideas about female strength and courage. They have helped women prise themselves loose from the shackles of respectability, conformity and passivity that society puts on them.

It's surely no coincidence that in the early days of remarkable rides (it's hard to establish what were records, when no governing bodies took an interest in recording their achievements) women routinely made light of the challenges they'd undertaken.

Take the Australian Lucy Beyer, who in 1896 rode 568.8 miles between Sydney and Melbourne in seven and a half days, covering an average of 76 miles a day in what was called at the time a 'rational skirt'. It wasn't easy. The roads would have been largely unsurfaced, and in addition to tackling rain, mud, heatwaves, headwinds and dust, she had days where she rode 10 miles with one leg because of a broken pedal, had eight punctures, lost a shoe, or walked for 12 miles into the night because of a broken chain. But when asked afterwards if she'd ever felt tired, she replied, "O, dear no! Not the slightest. I arrived in Melbourne as fresh as possible, as well as ever I did in my life," adding, "I am sure I could have ridden for another week without being tired."

Around the same time, on the other side of Australia, a newspaper reported that, "Miss O'Meagher, a Menzies cycliste, thinks nothing of riding between that town and Coolgardie. The other day she covered the journey—a little over 90 miles—in about nine hours, and attended a ball in the evening."

Records have greater significance in the history of women's racing than in the men's sport. Men have always had races, but for women, racing opportunities have been intermittent – even non-existent – for large chunks of time. Setting records was sometimes the only way they could show what they were capable of. The first women's World Championships were introduced in 1958. Modern women's racing only really 'got started' in the 1980s, with the first women's Olympics road race and a women's Tour de France in 1984. Racing professionally – and by that I mean being able to earn a living from it – has arguably only really been a reality for the professional women's peloton in the last 10 years or so. But in Britain and Australia in the 1930s, women made headlines by setting place-to-place records, and were paid for their efforts by bike manufacturers who sponsored them.

As fans, we love to obsess about who's the GOAT, the greatest of all time. But by what criteria? Most of the time, it's by looking at race results. But what if those races didn't exist? How can you compare Marianne Vos, with her astounding number of Giro stage wins, with, say, Beryl Burton, who never got to ride a Grand Tour? Can you even compare the current generation of professionals, many of whom can now devote themselves full-time to their sport, with women riding more than 30 years ago, as amateurs, somehow fitting the training in around their day jobs?

There are so many great champions from the past that I would love to drop into the present: how would Alfonsina Strada, the only woman to have participated in a men's Grand Tour, riding the Giro d'Italia in 1924, have fared against the current Dutch armada of stage racers? How many editions of Paris-Roubaix could Yvonne Reynders, a four-time road race world champion who learnt her aggressive racing chops in Belgian cobbled criterium races, have won? How many more world championship and Olympic gold medals could Beryl Burton have won if women's time trialling had been introduced to an international stage in the 1950s, rather than 1994 for the World Championships and 1996 for the Olympics?

Record breaking is a profoundly feminist thing to do, even if the women who break those records often hesitate to apply that label to themselves. In recent years, there has been a resurgence of interest in ultra distance records, with women sometimes beating men's records, opening up new vistas of possibility. Not that women need to compare their achievements against men. Just as in the 1890s, when women started setting records – whether in six-day races, place-to-place records or going for the Hour – the act of establishing a record is an affirmation. Like the suffragettes who chained themselves to railings, records have a kind of physicality. They mark out territory. They challenge the way women are viewed –and how they view themselves. They say, "we're here, and we're strong, and we're not done yet."

Disclaimer: some of these records are hard to verify, and for each one detailed here, there are many, many more that deserve to be mentioned, but aren't, just because there isn't the space, and I am not an endurance writer. This is by no means a conclusive, global view. Approach it rather as a pick'n'mix of some inspiring, astounding and frankly mad achievements.

The original records

The Hour Record

You could argue this is the one constant in women's racing history, a thread that connects us all the way back to the very origins of the sport. So let's begin at the beginning, with Mademoiselle de Saint-Sauveur setting the first record in Paris with a distance of 26.102km in 1893, which set off a flurry of Hour attempts culminating in Louise Roger's record of 34.684km in 1897. As Feargal McKay points out in his research on the subject: "In that period, 14 Hour Records were set in the space of 52 months. The unpaced record was set and reset four times, while 10 new distances were recorded for the paced version of the challenge."

In 1911, the Italian rider Alfonsina Strada set a new record of 37.192km in Turin.

After WWII, there were renewed record attempts, although the UCI only officially recognised women's records from 1955 onwards. Russian rider Tamara Novikova set the first of these, with a distance of 38.473km.

In the intervening years, many of the great names in women's cycling history have nudged it forward, including Millie Robinson, Elsy Jacobs, Keetie van Oosten-Hage, Jeannie Longo and Leontien van Moorsel, who got the record up to 46.065km in 2003.

The last ten years have seen a fresh round of attempts following changes in UCI rules, with new rivalries and a dramatic increase of distances, kicked off by Molly Shaffer Van Houweling in 2015 with a distance of 46.273km, leading us through a subsequent seven new records culminating in Italian rider Vittoria Bussi's current title – the third time she has taken it – with an astounding distance of 50.455km set in May 2025.

The first man to crack the 50km barrier, incidentally, was Francesco Moser, in 1984, with disc wheels and a skin suit.

Overall distance in one year

In 1938, Billie Dovey (who later changed her surname to Fleming) rode across Britain to set a women's record for the longest distance cycled in a year with 29,603.7 miles (47,642.5km), with the mission to promote the health benefits of cycling for women.

That same year, on the opposite side of the world, a flurry of Australian women's records sponsored by competing bike manufacturers came to a climax with three riders setting and breaking a seven-day distance record all within the space of a few months.

Pat Hawkins came out triumphant, with a distance of 1,546 miles that smashed a men's record of 1,507 miles held by another Aussie rider: Ossie Nicholson, who had been coaching some of the women. In 1942 Hawkins went after Dovey's record. During that year her mother died, and she had to spend every morning preparing packed lunches for her 10 siblings before setting off on her rides. She also lost seven weeks due to illness and injury. Not only did she break Dovey's record, covering a distance of 45,402 miles (73,067.44km), but she once again surpassed a record that Ossie Nicholson had set in 1933. However, a week later, cycling officials found 'certain irregularities in Miss Hawkins' log sheets,' and the record was never ratified.

So Billie Dovey held onto her record until her death, aged 100, in 2014. Two years later, on December 31, 2016, Swedish cyclist Kajsa Tylen set a new record with 32,326 miles (52,025.09km). This time, the record only held for a few months. In May 2017, American rider Amanda Coker set a staggering new record with a distance of 86,573 miles (13,9325.74km). She had also broken the men's record, 76,076 miles (122,432 km) set by Kurt Searvogel. And in a nice bit of symmetry with Pat Hawkins and Ossie Nicholson, it was meeting and riding with Searvogel as he was making his record attempt that inspired Coker to give it a go. But instead of catching her breath, she carried on, to break the record for the shortest time to complete 100,000 miles, set 77 years previously by Tommy Godwin with 500 days of riding. Coker reached it in 423 days.

She rode more than 200 miles a day, sometimes 300, mostly on the same seven-mile loop. And she did all this while recovering from a crash in 2011, caused by a careless driver, that had left her with a traumatic brain injury.

For most riders, that would be enough. But in October 2021, Coker set a new record for the longest distance ridden on a road in 24 hours (there are separate 24 hour track records, where the smooth surface and lack of traffic means riders can go faster). She became the first woman to break 500 miles, with a total distance of 512.506 miles. Over the course of her ride, she collected another 10 Guinness World Records over other times and distances.

The Grand Tours

Shortest winning margin in a Tour de France victory

No, it's no longer Greg Lemond's time-trial upset on the last stage of the Tour de France in 1989, where he took back the yellow jersey from Laurent Fignon in Paris to win by only eight seconds. That's ancient history. The most nail-biting finale in terms of winning margin happened in the women's race in 2024, when Kasia Niewiadoma-Phinney won with a mere four seconds over Demi Vollering, on a thrilling final stage up the Alpe d'Huez.

Giro d'Italia Women

When it comes to the history of women's stage racing, it's patchy. The women's Tour de France has a complicated on-off history, which we won't go into here. The women's Giro, however, has been held consistently since 1998, apart from a two-year hiatus in 1991 and 1992, making it the Grand Tour of reference in women's racing.

Its most dominant winner is Fabiana Luperini, who took five victories in the late 1990s, followed by Anna van der Breggen and Annemiek van Vleuten, who share four victories each. The record for the most stage wins, however, goes to Marianne Vos, with a stunning 32 victories.

Long distance records

Fastest circumnavigation of the globe

The first women's attempt to cycle round the globe took place not in the 1990s, but the 1890s, when Annie Kopchovsky – who called herself Annie Londonderry after one of the companies that sponsored her record attempt – set off in response to an alleged bet that no woman could cycle around the world.

She was a married woman with three young children, who had never ridden a bike until a few days before undertaking the challenge. After realising she could complete a significant part of the journey in a boat, you might argue that there was more sailing than cycling going on. Regardless, she was a pioneer, and courageous, and extremely good at getting sponsorship and promoting her ride, writing articles, selling photographs and giving talks en route. She made it back within 15 months and was hired to write a newspaper column in which she declared: "I am a journalist and a 'new woman,' if that term means that I believe I can do anything that any man can do."

Fast-forward to December 2012 and German cyclist Juliana Buhring set the first official Guinness World Record as the fastest woman to cycle around the world, unsupported, covering 18,000 miles (29,000km) in 152 days. She had spent eight months training, having only taken up cycling the previous year, at the age of 30. She had survived an abusive childhood in a religious cult, and undertook the ride to raise money for her charity, Safe Passage Foundation, to help children born and raised in religious sects. "I wanted to prove you don't have to be a professional to do something incredible," she later explained. She has since written a best-selling book about her ride and become a celebrated ultra cyclist.

The record was broken again by Scottish rider Jenny Graham in 2018 (124 days, 10 hours and 50 minutes), who rode unaccompanied as a representative of The Adventure Syndicate, a collective of female cyclists that aims to empower women and girls in cycling. Her ride featured 300km days in the saddle, encounters with bears and negotiating terrifying roads with speeding trucks across Russia.

There have also been records set with riders benefitting from a support crew, with Italian rider Paola Gianotti covering 18,389 miles (29,595 km) in 144 days in 2014 (although the clock was stopped for several months to recover from a crash) and American ultra-distance rider Lael Wilcox who was accompanied by her wife, and holds the current women's around-the-world record, completing the ride in 2024 in 108 days, 12 hours, and 12 minutes.

Wilcox is something of a legend in ultra cycling circles. Other remarkable achievements include being the first woman to win the Trans Am Bike Rice, that crosses the USA from the Pacific to the Atlantic coast; and setting a women's ITT record for the Tour Divide, which involves mountain biking the length of the Rockies. This year, she's attempting to beat the record outright, chasing Mark Beaumont's record of 78 days, 14 hours and 40 minutes.

There have been other female around-the-world records. In 2020, Cat Dixon and Raz Marsden, both in their fifties, rode around the world on a tandem in 263 days. Last year, 50-year-old Alana Conner achieved a Guinness World Record as the oldest (presumably individual) person to circumnavigate the globe, a feat she achieved in 299 days.

Perhaps even more remarkable was a record attempt in 2018 by a 19-year-old Indian girl, Vedangi Kulkarni, covering 29,000km in 159 days, about 80% of which she rode solo. Her ride was never ratified by the Guinness Book of Records, but she's considered the youngest woman to have completed the challenge, turning 20 by the time she finished. Last year she completed a second circumnavigation. She’d hoped to tackle the overall record again, but was slowed down by visa issues and having to change her route. Nonetheless, she completed her ride, which has also been for her about changing the narrative for Indian girls and women about what they can do. Talking about the experience to Bikepacking.com afterwards, she said, “I learned that absolutely nothing is ever the end of the world. There’s always a solution to every problem.”

There's one last record I'd like to add in this category: a 54-year-old ex-headmistress called Anne Mustoe who set off on her own round-the-world adventure in 1987, covering 11,552.1 miles in 439 days. Her entertaining book, A Bike Ride, which tells her story, makes it clear she had no intention of setting any speed records. Among the essentials in her panier bags were a silk suit and high heels for fancy parties. But I think her ride can nonetheless be included here. Utterly hands-off as far as bike maintenance was concerned, she did the whole ride (as far as I can tell) without fixing a single puncture herself.

Greatest distance covered on a tandem in 24 hours

The greatest distance covered by a female tandem team in 24 hours is 434.94 miles (699.96km). This was achieved by American riders Anna Schwartz and Betsy King in 1991.

Betsy King also goes in the record books as the first woman to take part in (and complete) France's oldest men's race, Bordeaux-Paris, a 586km suffer-fest founded in 1891. The race was organised at that point by the Société du Tour de France, which was launching the inaugural women's Tour de France later in the summer. Xavier Louy, one of the Tour organisers, presented the challenge to King, with the calculation that her ride would demonstrate to journalists that women were quite capable of taking on the Tour de France.

Land's End to John O'Groats

When there are so many other ultra-distance records you could potentially set, in places with nicer climates, better roads and more forgiving terrain, why does Land's End to John O'Groats – connecting the two most distant points on the British mainland with a distance of approximately 870 miles – hold so much importance in the ultra-distance community?

It's partly its long history, with the first record set on a Penny Farthing in 1886. The first women's attempts took place in the 1930s, with Lilian Dredge and then the formidable Marguerite Wilson, who set a record of two days, 22 hours and 52 minutes. The current women's record is held by Scottish rider Christina Mackenzie, who completed 839 miles in 51 hours, five minutes and 27 seconds.

Breaking this record is about exploring your own breaking points. It's not only about being strong or fast, but being able to cope with lack of sleep, busy roads, riding into the wind and rain, endless hills and mountains, moments of extreme self-doubt, finding you no longer have the muscle strength to hold up your head, or keep your eyes open, or tell what's real and what's a hallucination. Paul Jones’ book End to End is the definitive text on the subject, and celebrates in detail the astounding women who have made the record so incredibly hard to crack.

There are so many other LEJOG records that it's become a bit of an 'Everest' of ultra-distance challenges, with records for tricycles, tandems, folding bikes and even unicycles. And that's before we even get on to the walkers, paddleboarders and bus pass holders.

Land's End to John O'Groats and back

Canadian Sarah Ruggins set a new outright record for LEJOG and back last year, covering a total distance of 1,677 miles (2,700km) in five days, 11 hours and 14 minutes, beating the men's record by six hours and 43 minutes. This year she plans to set a new record riding from the southernmost to the northernmost point of continental Europe, a distance of 6,000km. The current record stands at 16 days, 20 hours and 59 minutes. Set your dot-watching calendar reminder for June.

Britain's coastline

While we're on the subject of British ultra distance records, here's another one set last year. Former pro Molly Weaver set a new record for riding all the way round Britain's perimeter, a distance of 7,700km, which she achieved in 21 days, 10 hours and 48 minutes, breaking the previous record set in 1984 by 17 hours.

Beryl Burton's 25 years of BBAR

There are endless discussions about who is the greatest of all time. It's a fun thing to mull over, but impossible to give a definitive judgement on. The sport – and the challenges it has presented women – has shifted so dramatically over the years. There are no fair parameters by which you can compare the achievements of, say, Jeannie Longo and Marianne Vos.

Beryl Burton began racing in the late 1950s, at the same time the first women's World Championships were introduced, with a road race and two track events. She was 47 when the women's first Olympics and Tour de France were introduced. Time trials, her forte, finally appeared at the Olympics the year she died. Apart from a once-yearly trip to the World Championships (where she won seven gold medals), Burton's world of racing was limited to British amateur racing, which revolved primarily around time trials.

It's estimated that in the course of her more than 25-year career, she won around 1,000 races (no one, not even Burton herself, was able to keep track), of which 96 were national titles. Sometimes, she even beat the men in the same discipline. Her most famous achievement in that regard was the 12-hour time trial in which she not only beat all the men taking part, but also broke the men's record, which had been held for nine years. It took two years for a man to crack Burton's distance, and a further 50, with all the additional benefits of aerodynamic gear, for a woman to better Burton's time.

But the most remarkable record of hers that needs celebrating here is her 25 consecutive years of winning the BBAR – or British Best All Rounder. It goes to the rider with the best average speed throughout the year across three competition distances: a 25-mile, 50-mile and 100-mile time trial. (The men's record is calculated on their best 50-mile, 100-mile and 12-hour results.) When rivals are equally matched, pursuit of the BBAR becomes a season-long duel. Some records come and go, but no one will ever come close to Burton's achievement.

Worlds and Olympics

World Championship road race records

Jeannie Longo has the most World Championships road race wins (5), and also has the record for most consecutive wins (4), holding eight medals overall. Marianne Vos has three road race victories but the highest number of total medals (9).

Olympic road medals

Two riders have each achieved the record of three Olympic road racing records, with Dutch rider Leontien van Moorsel winning gold in both the road race and two time trials, and American Kristin Armstrong winning three consecutive time trials between 2008 and 2016, becoming also the oldest road cycling gold medallist, the day before her 43rd birthday.

On the track

Women's track racing is one of the exciting areas for following record breaking at the moment, partly because so many new disciplines have been introduced in the last decade or so, and partly because of the professionalisation of women's racing – in the sense of women being able to earn a living full from racing, and therefore being able to train to the best of their abilities, unlike their parents' generation.

Just last month Emma Finucane set a new world record in the women's flying 200m time trial at the 2026 UEC European Track Championships in Turkey. With a time of 9.982 seconds she is now the third woman to go under the mythic 10 second mark, riding at an average speed of 73.8kph (45.8mph).

The record for Olympic gold medals on the track is shared between Anna Meares of Australia and Laura Kenny of Great Britian, who each have six.

Individual Sprint

Talking of previous generations, the women's Individual Sprint is one of the longest-held international track races, first introduced at the 1958 World Championships, together with the individual pursuit. Since there is no fixed distance in this discipline, which varies according to the track being used, there's not much point in talking about records in terms of time. However, there are some remarkable records in terms of winners.

From 1958 until 1973 it was dominated by riders from the USSR, with its first champion, Galina Yermolayeva, winning six gold medals at the World Championships, five of them consecutive, followed by a nine-year gap before winning her sixth. She shares her record with Galina Tsareva, also Russian, and more recently, British rider Victoria Pendleton.

American riders finally broke the Russian hegemony with Sheila Young's victory in 1973. A dominant American generation in the 70s and 80s featured Young, Sue Novara and Connie Paraskevin each taking several victories. All three riders also competed on the international stage as speed skaters. The 1990s were dominated by French rider Felicia Ballanger, who holds a joint record with five consecutive victories. In the last decade, the Germans have been particularly dominant, with Kristina Vogel taking four victories before her career was tragically cut short in a crash that left her paralysed.

Team Sprint

First introduced at the UCI world championships in 2007, the Team Sprint initially covered a distance of 500m, with teams of two riders. The Chinese have been particularly dominant, setting new records at each Olympic Games since 2012. The current record was set at the Tokyo Olympics by the Chinese riders Bao Shanju and Zhong Tianshi, with a time of 31.804 seconds.

Since 2021, the distance has been increased to 750m with teams of three riders. At the Paris Olympics, the record fell five times in a single day, and is currently held by the British riders Katy Marchant, Emma Finucane and Sophie Capewell with a time of 45.186 seconds.

Greatest distance covered in 24 hours on an indoor track

Riding for 24 hours. On an indoor track. Is there anything worse? Ukrainian rider Elena Novikova set this record in 2017, covering a jaw-dropping distance of 781.637km (485.686 miles) with an average speed of 32.57kph (20.23mph). The ride broke a total of 11 world records in addition to the 24-hour distance.

Cyclo-cross

Amongst Marianne Vos' many, many records, are her eight Cyclo-cross World Championship victories, six of which were consecutive. Where does she keep all her medals and trophies?

Para-cycling

Sarah Storey has broken so many records it's hard to keep track of them all, combining an exceptionally long career and another sport. In the Olympics alone, she has won 30 medals, of which 19 are gold. She won her first medals as a 14 year-old swimmer at the 1992 Barcelona Olympics, and her last medal at the Paris Games in 2024 in the C4-5 road race, against a rider 27 years her junior.

She has won six National Championships competing with able-bodied riders.

She has 23 World Championship cycling titles and six in swimming.

She has 77 world records.

She tried to break the women's able-bodied Hour Record in 2015, attaining a distance of 45.502km, but it was 563m short of Leontine van Moorsel's record at the time. She did, however, set a new record in the C5 class of paracycling and a new British record.

Hour Record

In February 2025, Svetlana Moshkovich, an Austrian 3-time world champion of Russian origin, set a new Hour Record in the women's hand bike WH4 category, covering an astonishing 36.132kilometers using only her arms.

The potential GOATS

Jeannie Longo

Jeannie Longo warrants a category of her own, as the rider with arguably the longest racing career, winning her first French National Championships in 1979, and her last in 2011. As with Beryl Burton, you lose track of all her many victories. And also like Burton, who continued to race until the day she died, Longo has never really stopped: last year, aged 66, she won her 61st national title in the masters category.

She has 13 World Championship gold medals, including five in the road race, of which four were won consecutively – a feat no one else, male or female – has achieved.

She also won the French women's national road race title 20 times. Eleven of those victories were consecutive.

She has, according to her Wikipedia page, broken 38 world records and has won 1,157 races.

Pauline Ferrand-Prévot

Pauline Ferrand-Prévot – or PFP as the French call her – is perhaps the most versatile rider in the peloton. She is the only rider to have held simultaneous world championship titles in road racing, cyclo-cross and mountain biking. She also won the first women's Gravel World Championships and has a record five cross-country mountain biking world titles.

Is there anything she can't do? Who knows. She won a mountain biking gold medal at the Paris Olympics, followed last year by Paris-Roubaix and the women's Tour de France, neither of which she had raced before.

Unusual records

The world's largest GPS drawing

In 2024, American cyclist Kristy Bellmer created the world's largest GPS drawing, in honour of her late dog, Slinky. The virtual canine portrait covers six countries, and is a little bit wobbly in places where she combined the ride with visits to see friends. She covered 4,707km in two months, and despite encountering a lot of rain, and some mountains she wasn't expecting, doesn't seem to have had too much difficulty in achieving her record, being already a seasoned long-distance touring cyclist.

"I'd met several people who had set Guinness World Records titles before and I knew this one was very achievable," she said.

Longest jump on a unicycle

How far can you jump on a unicycle? 3.35m, if you're German cyclist Lisa-Maria Hanny, who set the women's record in 2018. It's hard to even visualise how this is possible.

First person to ride a bicycle around a wall of death

In addition to her nine World Championship gold medals in BMX and track cycling, Shanaze Reade also has a Guinness World Record as the first person (male or female) to ride a bicycle around a wall of death. Her record involved riding at 26.8mph on a vertical wooden track with a diameter of 9.75m and a circumference of 30.63m.

Long before the Guinness World Records existed, however, there was another woman who had the same idea. In July 1903, Hélène Dutrieux – a great Belgian champion who broke the Hour Record a few times, amongst other things – turned to stunt riding, and performed a loop of a vertical track in Marseille. She went on to do terrifying aerial stunts with her bike, which she later swapped for a motorbike, before becoming a champion aviator and the first Belgian woman to hold a pilot's licence.

High speeds

The fastest cyclist on earth

The fastest speed ever attained on a bike is 296.009kph, or 183.931mph. This was achieved by Denise Mueller-Korenek in 2018 at the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah, riding behind a custom-built vehicle to minimise wind resistance. She had previously set the women's record in 2016, before smashing the men's record with an extra 16.931 miles per hour. Her coach was John Howard, who'd previously set the record himself in 1985. The custom bike had motorbike rims and tyres and double reduction gearing that allowed the bike to travel 138ft, or 42m, per pedal revolution.

"I could almost certainly have died doing this," she later said. "It certainly was a terrifying ride."

Fastest ever women's WorldTour Race

This record was set on the second stage of the 2025 UAE Tour Women, when Lorena Wiebes won the stage with an average speed of 48.407kph.

Everesting

The fastest time to climb the equivalent of Mount Everest

To end on a literal high note, British rider Illi Gardner holds the women's Everesting record, which she set in ⁠2022, covering 9,006m of elevation over 107.82km in eight hours, five minutes and 15 seconds.

To take us back to the climber George Mallory, this record requires ascending 8,848 metres – the height of Mount Everest – in one ride. Mallory's grandson, also called George Mallory, first came up with the idea in 2014. Covid-19 made it a popular challenge for pros unable to race, and since then it's become a 'thing', although it sits outside of the jurisdiction of any established governing body like the UCI. Illi Gardner is a pure climber, who has won the British Hill Climb championships three times, and last year she also won the inaugural Everesting World Championship, which took place on Mount Etna.

If you feel inspired to have a go, just remember: if it's not on Strava, it didn't happen.

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