Despite a collective hankering for highly calorific fare, our reasons for consuming it couldn’t be more different; The boozers wanted something that would soak up an evening’s worth of ale. I wanted something that would allow me to get back on my bicycle, boost my cycling performance and pedal with a little more urgency than I’d be able to muster for the last hour.

Of course, decked out in Spandex, I was suitably heckled: “What have you come as?” a chap in a neatly pressed Ben Sherman shirt enquired. “Shouldn’t you be on the energy bars?” another asked as I shuffled from side to side on my cleats.

Then I dropped my order. “A large kebab, a large portion of chips, two bottles of water and three cans of Coke, please.” It was a concise, calculated and cold delivery. A delivery that was met with gasps of confused admiration from my fellow patrons. “But, but, I didn’t think cyclists actually ate,” Ben Sherman stuttered.

“Oh, we eat, Ben,” I replied. “We eat a lot…”

You may think that I arrived at this juncture having poorly fuelled my ride prior to queuing up at the van. In theory I suppose I had. But it hadn’t been through a lack of trying. A 24-hour TT demands almost constant fuelling and hydration if you want to keep power up and the speed high. Aside from having a working pair of legs and a beating heart, the most important part of ultra long distance rides and races is your stomach – and, more pertinently, what you put in it.

My quest to eat as much food as humanly possible over a 24-hour period started the day prior to the event. A carb-heavy breakfast (double portions of porridge oats), was followed by a carb-heavy lunch (rice and bread) and a carb-heavy dinner (half a packet of spaghetti). This is what’s known as carb-loading. It’s also what’s known as being a fat b**tard. But ridiculously long bicycle rides offer the perfect excuse to overindulge and I was far from done for today.

A trip to the supermarket with my daughter between lunch and dinner turned into a bit of a game – a game in this case we simply called ‘Calorie Hunt’. The plan was to find – pound for pound – the most calorific items in the shop. Sound boring? Surprisingly it was extremely entertaining, particularly for my daughter – we spent an inordinate amount of time perusing then purchasing chocolate.

Aside from lard which offers a phenomenal 900 calories per 100g, the next best, and slightly more palatable option was chocolate. But not just any old chocolate. After leaving no packet unturned it was the Bitsa Wispa at 550 calories per 100g that proved the heaviest hitter. I bought three bags and decanted them into the food pouch on the cockpit of my steed.

After adding some macadamia nuts and two bags of Haribo I had what you might call a Trail Mix deluxe – a compact mélange of snackables weighing in at the best part of 5,000 calories. So that’s breakfast sorted.

0-6 hours

My first meal of the day then was a protracted affair, which I finally polished off after around 120 miles in the saddle. So six hours deep into the ride the hunt for more sustenance began.

I had emergency rations on me in the form of my favourite gels, but taste fatigue had set in and the thought of any more sugar filled me with actual revulsion. Fortunately the course was based on a loop that took in a series of small towns and villages, and on the outskirts of small towns and villages one can generally happen upon the long-distance cyclist’s best friend – petrol stations. Don’t worry, I wasn’t about to lift a nozzle and pump myself full of Shell V-Power – that would be far too costly – rather take advantage of the competitively priced junk food on offer.

6-12 hours

A meal deal yields a big hit of carbs in one nifty little package. I bought two, and a Greggs steak bake just in case. Meal deals, to those unfortunate enough not to know, comprise a main (usually in the form of a sandwich), a side (a chocolate bar or a packet or crisps – they also have packets of fruit and olives apparently), and a drink. If I’m feeling particularly decadent – today being a case in point – I’ll plump for the triple cheese sandwich on white bread, a packet of Monster Munch and a bottle of Cherry Coke. So I ate one on the petrol station forecourt and secreted the second meal deal in various places around my person and bicycle. The steak bake was eaten on the move – not the easiest fare to consume at 20mph, I spent the next two weeks sneezing out flakes of puff pastry.

Let’s break down the energy in that little repast, then: 2 x triple cheese = 1,400 cals; 2 x Monster Munch grab bags = 900cal; 2 x Cherry Coke = 600cal; 1 x steak bake = 600; for a grand total of 3,500 calories. Add to that the gels in my back pocket and I do believe we’re set for the late afternoon shift.

12-18 Hours

Four thousand calories came and went and by now I had 250 miles on the clock. They were relatively fast miles, The course was a gently undulating affair which never really trouble the fast-twitch fibres, so my legs were feeling reasonable, my backside was middling to fair but once again my stomach and muscles began muttering something about supper.

Seriously? More? Yes, more. I was already a couple of hours deep into the night shift and the Cotswolds was drawing the curtains for the day. I had no other option than to descend upon the last refuge of the interminably hungry.

And so it was that Ben Sherman ribbed me for my attire and his mate asked me why I wasn’t eating energy bars before I dropped the large kebab and chips bombshell. Had I had the energy and the inclination I would have explained that an energy bar was a waste of time that wasn’t going to fuel a further six hours of cycling, whereas what I’d just ordered – large kebab (2,000 cals), large chips (900cals) and three cans of Coke (450cals) – probably would.

18-24 Hours

In hindsight, the kebab was a bad idea. Yes, I needed salt but I didn’t want half of the Dead Sea in my dinner. My gut started revolting. It simply refused to process what I’d just offered it and there it sat, sloshing around in my stomach refusing to budge. I found a likely verge on a country lane and lay down on it. Dew already forming on the grass teased my bare neck as I parted with a long and meaningful groan.

There’s a very good reason sports nutrition and supplements are so popular among athletes. It offers a fast-release form of energy that can be easily processed by the gut. Regardless of what you eat during long-distance rides, fuel should be factored into training. Your stomach can’t be taken by surprise by a sudden onslaught of calories it’s hitherto never been required to process.

So practice eating, find out the kind of food that works for you and, of course, avoid the kebab van.

Regardless of my little setback I managed a fairly commendable 335 miles and, more importantly, learned another lesson about the highly nuanced world of ultra riding.

At first glance the spec sheet is promising. With the launch of Super Record 13, the Italian brand appears to have gone back to its knitting.

It’s revised the pricing. This new pro-level groupset, whilst not cheap, is now pitched at the same pricing point as both SRAM and Shimano, depending on the spec you go for. The quoted price for a full groupset is now €4,300 / US$4,750 / £3,900, without power.

With a claimed weight of 2445g that would make it the lightest of the big three, and with pricing now competitive at the top tier, the remaining question the new Super Record has to answer, is whether or not it performs, and what is it like to live with. If it can answer those questions emphatically, without the hesitation that came with the last version, Campagnolo could be back in the race. If it can’t, it begs the question, what is Campagnolo for anymore? That for me, would be an operatic tragedy.

Buckle up, this is a long review, but it’s not an exaggeration to say this groupset is of existential importance to Campagnolo’s future, and even if it wasn’t, there’s a ton of components to get through.

Cassette and Chainset

Changes here are minimal, but subjectively, to my eye, this is the best looking chainset on the market.

The revised BB cups are called Quick Tech and I’m told there is no cross compatibility with earlier UT or Protech BB’s. The retainer clip and wavey washer are essentially the other way around, but functionality is largely the same. I suspect Campagnolo has done this to stop any mixing and matching with incorrect chain and rings, now that the chain is narrower. The bearings are still mounted on the axle. While it’s better than chancing the alignment by mounting them in the frame, it’s still a pain for your mechanic.

The hirth link remains. Ignore anyone that tells you this isn’t a stiff way to mount a crank. There’s a tube of titanium in there at a wall thickness you wouldn’t find in a roll cage on a Dakar truck. The axle is not going anywhere and you won’t bend it. In operation the cranks do the job they’re supposed to and the drivetrain runs silently and smoothly.

This is the first time I’ve ridden any Super Record product with a 32t cassette out back. That’s news, because even when Frome was killing it up and downhill in the Giro on a Shimano 32t, you still couldn’t buy a series correct 32t cassette for Super Record.

The Wireless launch in 2023 surprised everyone by lurching the other way, by not offering a full-size chainset, not even a mid-compact. Both cassette and crankset options in this new group are more varied and wider ranging than all the other top-tier groups available in the market. That’s a win for Campagnolo, tempered perhaps by the absence of a 160mm crank.

The rear derailleur

This is a big mech. While it’s smaller and better proportioned than the last one, the current Dura Ace mech still looks more compact. However, the next version of DA will need to mount batteries in the rear mech. If the XTR launch is anything to go by, Shimano won’t have the sleeker and smaller option for long, and the new Super Record mech does look very special, albeit less elegant than EPS.

If you change under load, the mech responds telepathically, moving the chain up or down the block without hesitation in what feels like half a link, or a blink, and at times, a big crack. If you’re used to sneaking around behind your mates on a stealthy Di2 shift with only a squeak from the motor to give you away, this system is not for you.

Speaking of squeaky motors, if you don’t mind an assertive click as the chain finds it’s gear, but hate the rodent-like squeak and groan of the motor in some electric mechs there’s way less of that here. And an immediate shift.

If you change gear the way you should – with mechanical sympathy – the shift can be as quiet as SRAM. I’m not sure it’s ever as quiet shifting as Shimano though, in any circumstances. But, as I’ve alluded to already, I find a Shimano Di2 system too quiet at times, especially in concert with their oft don’t-know-you’ve-pressed-it shifter buttons.

There is no doubt you’ve changed gear in a Super Record system, and that feeling remains. The shift feels like pulling a trigger (pressing the trigger in this case) and the response is just as instantaneous as a gun. There is no discernible moment where the shift button doesn’t feel hardwired to the mech. It’s very quick.

The chain moves through the mech in smooth, spooky silence too. The larger pulleys and ceramic bearings in the top pulley keep it all feeling very luxurious and super efficient. There’s also a fancy black-chrome-esque coating, which may be contributing to the eerily silent running.

The front derailleur

This is simply much better than previous wired versions of EPS with zero chain drag to the next ring, and a significant improvement on the outgoing model. I couldn’t make the chain drag on an up or down shift in any one position on the front or rear cassette. The chain felt under control in every shift. No delay, no snagging, no drag, just a nicely controlled, yet fast, shift, with no fuss.

The other big news on the front mech is that it’s no longer the same size as your Garmin. The battery is fixed on the front, giving more tyre clearance, they say. ‘Leg clearance’ would have been more honest given their last effort. The new design gives plenty of space now, and it’s inline with the other brand’s mechs in terms of profile.

Charging and battery life

One thing I haven’t yet mentioned is charging. Batteries can be charged on or off the bike, with a magnetic charge port on the battery itself. The engagement with the charger is via a lightly fitted magnetic connection.

Dura-Ace has a horrendous charging interface that often doesn’t stay in place. No trouble here yet with Campagnolo’s just about magnetic solution, but surely USB-C is due on the next generations of all these items?

Whilst the claimed charging rates are class leading, and it does indeed charge super fast, the rear mech seems to be thirsty on the juice. A longer term review will allow me to assess battery life more fully. I suspect it just prefers a full charge, rather than a blast of electrons here and there, when it’s near one of the few sockets that’s not already charging something else!

The shifters

I can’t talk about shifting without talking about how it’s actuated, once again thank goodness, via a Campy thumbshifter. It is back, reimagined, and very good indeed, operable from a number of useful angles.

One small gripe is that you can unintentionally shift gears when braking and shifting at the same time, such as when approaching a junction. Your hands are loaded up under braking at this point, slowing the bike, with fingers wrapped on the brake lever. There’s a lot of hand for the set up to accommodate in this moment and you can fudge a shift in the wrong direction. Bear in mind I do have size 12 hands. Once you’re aware it’s there and you’ve made provision for it, the thumb shifter never really feels in the way however.

In terms of the function when pressed, both thumb shifter and paddle have a short throw, giving no sense of latency, and at the same time requiring only a light touch. That’s quite a clever mix, especially given the haptic response of the shift button is clear and communicative, and this helps make shifting feel direct, and deliberate. This was my favourite aspect of the system, and the buttons feel great, too. Hold the button for just a while longer and you can dispatch three gears at a time or as many gears as you need without delay. All the buttons on the ergopower lever are configurable in the app, and there’s also a neat ‘one hand’ mode, so you can control both mechs from one lever if needed.

The paddle shift lever on the back of the brake lever is a wonder of ergonomics on its own. No matter where your hands are positioned on the hoods, the tip of your ring finger can find the inside edge of the relatively large real estate given to the paddle. The inside edge tells you you’re there, in a way that neither SRAM or Shimano can; the former has a larger but smooth-ish paddle, while the Di2 paddles can be fiddly to locate. Like the thumb shift haptics, you also know you’ve pressed the button, not because of an arduous click or long throw though. It all just feels efficient, and you know you’ve done it.

The mode buttons and new ‘Smart Button’ are all easy enough to operate and fall nicely. I didn’t set up the mode button up, as I didn’t have a head unit mount for the bar on my test bike, but it can theoretically control your head unit, answer a call, or shift tracks on your Spotify. Or any number of other functions. This will be handy for some and brings it into line with competitors.

The hoods and brake levers

Campagnolo knows a lot about ergonomics and the new ergopower lever in the SR13 system is its best work yet. The material used for the hoods feels delicate. It’s tactility could be a sign of weakness, but it’s absolutely not if previous versions (which use the same material) are anything to go by. It feels great, looks better than the other main players, and offers loads of grip.

The new brake lever kicks out considerably, clearing the centre line of the bar, leaving what feels like class-leading clearance for your fingers. The previous versions, and Di2 does trap fingers, way before the brake caliper is entirely on at times. With this design and the short throw on the brake lever, this is way less likely. The levers themselves look very classy, feel good, and they’re adjustable for reach.

The tip of the hood is angled in. Campagnolo says that the design is UCI legal but I could care less about that aspect – the position it affords your hands is brilliant. It leaves your wrist completely neutral, in the same position it would be if hung by your side in the breeze. Fitters rejoice. It is very comfortable indeed.

The extra gear

Ok, ok. I know, no one was asking for more gears. However, far beyond it being a marketing stunt to sell a few more groupsets and usher in another new standard, there are use cases where it is obviously really beneficial. And to try and placate the cynics, I’ll take a few moments to explain why.

Cadence is often dependent on finding the right gear. Some people don't worry about cadence and enjoy their riding no less of course, but for those that enjoy road craft, the extra ratio is helpful, especially on a 32.

Fundamentally, the downside of running a 32t cassette is bigger jumps and that problem is better managed here with 13 ratios. In fact, it’s eliminated. For a fast TT style ride over rolling hills, or endurance work on an even smaller cassette where maintaining a consistent power output is essential, there is no downside to having the extra ratio. Especially when the shift feels this fast and addictive.

The App - My Campy 3.0

Once set up, you shouldn’t need the app too much. This is good news, because it’s not great as it is. Having experienced initial set up issues with the front mech, I went into the app to look for adjustment, status, and assess set up. I couldn’t. Clicking on the front mech icon serves up the rear mech menu. This is clearly a bug, but this is not forgivable in what is not a pre-launch version of the app.

Functionally, you can access chainline switches, and shift assist (think Syncro shift) and check your battery levels and assign buttons as you wish.

The brakes

The brakes are still brilliant. There wasn't much needed changing here, but they've found some titanium screws to drop a bit of weight (7g) and made some changes to the brake pad, whilst adding a sintered option for better performance in the winter. I rode in wet and dry on the 'standard' pads, and Campagnolo's brake system is still outstanding. Feel is great at the lever, with all the modulation and power that you need.

Verdict

Some people will never choose Campagnolo. Shimano offers a conservative, reliable choice that’s hard to ignore, that’s why it’s so dominant.

With this new groupset however, we now have not just an exotic option for your bike transmission, but a rational choice – not without fault – but an alternative that is now about subjective differences not compromise.

With this new groupset, pricing and weight is now competitive. Shifting is not as luxuriant and silent as Di2, but Super Record 13 is wickedly fast – it feels faster than anything else I’ve ridden – and shifts with an aggressive and determined movement, that is addictive and offers something undeniably competitive and high performing, but different.

Campagnolo has remembered that buying and owning Campagnolo parts is not just about performance, but about how they make you feel. Now, far from confused, as some aspects of Campagnolo design has left me feeling in the recent past, this new groupset makes you feel like you made an entirely valid choice to use an alternative transmission that’s different, not worse.

Yes, the app needs work. They can probably fix that with a firmware update. Yes, it is likely fiddlier to set up. But, the hardware and electronics in the main components are once again world class, and look at it.

The laurels of victory have been hung about the neck of Campagnolo components so much in World Tour cycling, that they featured them on their 80th anniversary logo. But just as the Italians created the tradition of awarding laurel wreaths to the victor, they also warned of the dangers of resting on them.

With Super Record 13, it’s clearly thinking straight again. If it can trickle this addictive shifting platform down, without losing the refinement or speed, Campagnolo might finally feel like it’s not just relevant again, but a rational and exciting choice for way more people.

Campagnolo has made a brilliant groupset. Now it just needs to fix the app.

Instead, quit practising your game face in the mirror for a few minutes and read our ultimate race day checklist, which will prepare you for any competitive event, from track to road to gravel.

Obvious, yet easily overlooked

‘Don’t sweat the small stuff’ doesn’t apply on race day. Here’s a run-through of the minor tech that can majorly impact your race should you fail to bring it along on the day.

Bikes are easily knocked, yet a compatible derailleur hanger – one of the most likely points of failure – will be extremely hard to find just before a race. So, buy one well in advance and stick it in your toolbox. You may never need it, but you’ll thank me when the time comes.

Remember to bring spare, pre-charged batteries if you’re running a SRAM or Campagnolo electronic shifting groupset. Similarly, if your bike uses coin batteries to power any components – commonly AXS shifters and power meters/pedals – then bring a healthy supply of these too. Batteries of all kinds have a habit of failing or refusing to charge at the least convenient moment. It’s also inevitable that you’ll remember to charge a critical battery one evening, only to leave it at home, safely cradled in its charger, on the morning of the race. We’ve all done it, so pack some spares.

If you’re running Shimano Di2, or any electronic groupset that’s charged on the bike, bring along the relevant charger and/or charging cables. A portable battery pack will be invaluable for the days when you have no access to mains power.

Unless you’re racing an ultra or a course with a significant amount of descent, you shouldn’t need to carry spare brake pads in your toolbox but bring them anyway. Because pads are concealed within the dark confines of the caliper, it can be tricky to judge just how worn they are. So, if you tend to give them little more than a cursory glance during your pre-ride maintenance checks, it can be easy to misjudge when they need replacing. Similarly, brake pads are quickly contaminated or glazed, resulting in subpar performance. Replacements are inexpensive and quick to swap out, so invest in an extra set or two.

Packing spare brake rotors may sound overkill, but they can warp if overused on a course with plenty of descent. More likely, a knock or a fall encountered during transit can bend a rotor beyond repair, leaving you racing on a bike with the brakes permanently applied, which is about as fun as it sounds. Buy a set of spares, together with the tools needed to remove them – usually a large wrench and a lockring remover.

If you keep on top of maintenance, your bike’s chain should have plenty of life left in it, but there’s no harm in packing a quick-release link. They’re minuscule and weigh next to nothing.

Tyres, tubes and tubeless

Packing a choice selection of spare tyres is an excellent idea. Not only will you have a backup should you suffer a slashed sidewall, but, depending on the format of the race, it will also enable you to optimise width and tread pattern for the conditions. Even better, if you can afford it, bring a set of spare wheels.

It is obvious, but I’ll say it anyway – having the means to fix a flat, whether that be a traditional repair kit, tubeless plugs/worms or a new tube, is essential for longer rides and gravel races.

Insurance

As a competitive cyclist, you’re likely to have invested a significant amount of time and money in choosing your bike and specifying its components. It’s a precious asset to you, both emotionally and financially. Therefore, taking out insurance to cover it against potential future mishaps may be wise.

However, some homeowners’ policies will not cover bikes away from home or bikes above a certain value. If, after checking the small print, you find yours doesn’t provide the cover you need, consider The Insurance Emporium, which offers award-winning Defaqto five-star cycle insurance with an “Excellent” Trustpilot score.

There are three levels of cover to choose from, all of which include theft, loss or accidental damage for your bike, new for old for life, personal accident, bicycle kit cover and more. Importantly, there’s an optional Competitive Use benefit that covers your bike if it is lost, stolen or accidentally damaged while being used for named competitive purposes.

Sadly, sometimes we’re forced to withdraw from a competition due to a sudden, unexpected and unforeseen injury. Well, at least The Insurance Emporium’s optional Event Withdrawal cover will cover the cost of any non-refundable entry fee should you have to cancel for this reason.

Check out The Insurance Emporium’s site for more details.

Clothing

A packable rain jacket can be a godsend in the mountains, where conditions can change quickly, and temperatures typically drop 6.5°C for every 1,000 metres of ascent. A good breathable, lightweight jacket will protect you from both precipitation and wind chill.

Arm and leg warmers, along with a packable gilet are essential for fast, high-altitude descents that never fail to chill both the limbs and core. Down in the valleys, consider slipping on thin, super lightweight sleeves to protect your forearms from sunburn when riding exposed flat sections on days with little cloud cover. On that note, don’t forget to apply plenty of high-factor sunscreen.

Nutrition and hydration

While you’ve probably got your pre-race nutrition plan dialled in, even the best of us find fuelling on the bike challenging. Too many energy-boosting carbs – usually in the form of sugar - can make you nauseous, while too few will induce ‘bonking’, the slang term for the effects of glycogen depletion. This leaves you feeling weak, dizzy, and unable to produce enough power to compete, or, in severe cases, complete the ride.

In the months and weeks leading up to any race, calculate how much you’ll need to eat to fuel your ride while on the bike effectively. Current generic advice recommends that most riders consume between 60 and 90 grams of carbohydrate per hour, typically in the form of energy bars and gels that contain a 2:1 glucose to fructose mix. However, individual needs vary considerably, and most people find they must train their digestive system to tolerate such high sugar loads.

Specialist sports energy bars and gels are convenient; however, homemade flapjacks and other sweet treats, such as chocolate bars and jellybeans, can be equally effective for those on a budget. Just remember to brush your teeth well after the race!

In hotter climates, where you are likely to sweat profusely, it’s not a bad idea to add electrolyte tabs to your bidon for hydration.

Warm up and cool down

Roll up to the race with a set of rollers for the ultimate warm-up. Rollers are lightweight, portable, and extremely effective for pre-ride warm-ups as well as post-ride cool-downs.

Warming up before a race with a high cadence, low-intensity effort is a very potent way to increase blood flow to the muscles, elevate heart rate and raise body temperature. This helps boost your VO2 max, speeds up neural impulses, and reduces the likelihood of muscle-related injuries.

A gradual cooling-down phase, on the other hand, lessens muscle soreness and promotes faster recovery.

Mindset

Finally, remember to bring your mental A-game and a winning smile!

The definitive list

Many of us have become blasé about bringing spare tubes, especially those who run tubeless systems. However, you’ll lose the race before it even starts if your bike suffers a flat in the car park, whether caused by a simple shard of glass or a more complex issue like sudden, unexpected tubeless rim tape failure. When time is tight, installing a new tube will quickly and effectively resolve most inflation issues. It’s not ideal if you’re running tubeless, but it will get you back in the race.

• Insurance – check you are covered for competitive events and event withdrawal
• Racing license
• Bike
• Helmet
• Bike shoes (check for cleat wear)
• Socks
• Gloves – long- and short-fingered
• Protective eyewear – consider photochromic for mixed conditions
• Jersey
• Bib shorts
• Base layers
• Packable rain jacket
• Packable gilet
• Arm warmers
• Leg warmers
• UV arm sleeves
• Casquette (cycling cap)
• Bidons (bottles)
• Sunscreen
• Towel
• Nutrition – bars, gels or homemade alternatives
• Electrolyte tabs
• Spare tubes
• Spare valves (check length)
• Sealant
• Spare tyres – bring an assortment if possible
• Spare wheels – if your budget will stretch to this
• Tube repair kit
• Tubeless plugs/worms
• Computer head unit
• Heart rate monitor
• Heart rate strap
• Lights – and booster batteries, leads etc for multi-day ultras
• Bike floor pump
• Derailleur hanger
• Spare spokes
• Coin batteries, as applicable
• Spare electronic groupset batteries
• Charger and leads for electronic groupset
• Portable USB battery pack
• Spare brake pads
• Spare brake rotors
• Quick-release chain links
• A comprehensive toolkit for pre-race use
• Basic, compact tool kit for use during the ride. Include tyre levers, multi-tool, pump or CO2
• Pre-race clothing – consider a belay jacket.
• Warm post-race clothing
• Post-race recovery nutrition/hydration
• Rollers – for warm-up and cool-down
• Massage gun

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All five of the country’s Continental teams – CJ O’Shea Racing, DAS-Hutchinson, Handsling Alba Development Road Team, Hess, and Smurfit Westrock – will compete in the four-day race, which starts today in Dalby Forest, and finishes in Glasgow on Sunday.

For the British squads, none of which are professional, the event is a valuable chance to show off sponsors and gain experience against some of the best riders in the world.

"It’s big and it’s stressful and it’s going to be absolutely mad," says Smurfit rider Lucy Harris, "but it’s an incredible opportunity at the same time. You have to make the most of it."

Harris, who won the CiCLE Classic this March, balances her racing with a full-time job as a meteorological data scientist. She returns to the Tour of Britain this year after making her debut in 2024, when she won the combativity prize on the first stage. "It was insane," she says. "I remember that Lizzie Deignan was up there [on the podium] as the Queen of the Mountains and she looked at me and said well done and I nearly burst into tears."

For Alba’s Lauren Dickson, the Tour of Britain will mark her first WorldTour event, and only her third ever stage race. The 25-year-old won the Lincoln GP last month, finished third at the recent Tour of Norway, and says she “can’t wait” to test herself against the 12 WorldTour teams.

"I’d really like to be in the breakaways and see how close to a podium that we can get," Dickson said. "If you want to be the best, then you have to be able to compete with the best. You have to believe in yourself, but you also have to learn from it. It’ll be a huge learning experience for everybody. We’ll have to bring our A-game."

This year’s race is particularly important for Alba, a squad with a Scottish core hopeful of performing on home roads. The team recently won their first international UCI race at the Tour de Feminin in the Czech Republic, but the Tour of Britain remains the centrepiece of their season.

"We’re looking to be seen in the race," says Alba manager Bob Lyons. "It’s tough down here getting budget, and we need exposure. We’re trying to get as much exposure as we can, and that’s a great opportunity for us in Scotland [on stages three and four]. It’s good for sponsors."

The same feeling is echoed by DAS-Hutchinson directeur sportif Olly Moors, who says the race is "massive" for his team’s partners. Already this season, DAS-Hutchinson have raced the Tour of Flanders and the Amstel Gold Race, two of the calendar’s biggest WorldTour one-day events, gaining valuable experience and exposure.

"At Flanders, we were in the breakaway for over 100km, and the engagement we got off that was huge. Our sponsors absolutely loved that," Moors says. "Those races force you, not just the team itself but the riders as well, to step up. We held our own and we’re proud of that."

Moors estimates that the average WorldTour squad operates on a budget around 30 times bigger than his team’s. It’s a daunting prospect, he says, but it shouldn’t deter his riders or those of the other Continental teams from racing aggressively. "You’ve got to mix ambition with reality," the DAS-Hutchinson DS says.

"It’s about finding that perfect sweet spot between the two. We would ambitiously love to have a rider perform well. I think really our best chances are a stage result and then looking at early breakaways, getting ahead of the race." As for the general classification, Moors adds, placing a rider in the top 30 would be a "great outcome".

The Tour of Britain Women begins today and is available to watch free on the BBC.

Now obviously punctures are a part of riding bikes that's unavoidable, you will get one at some point, but there are definitely things you can do to minimise the risk. Here are some of my favourite tips to keep you rolling.

Choose your tyre pressure wisely

One of the biggest causes of rapid tyre deflation on rocky trails is caused by people not running high enough pressures. Yes, going lower does improve grip, comfort and rolling resistance, but all of those gains only count if you keep air in them.

Getting your pressure right can be tough, but brands like Vittoria and Silca amongst others have very handy guides on their sites than can give you a great base line. You’ll need to pay attention to the trails and conditions you ride on, rather than looking at what the pro’s are doing. Yes, MVDP might get away with running low pressures, but you're not Matthieu. For something rocky like the Gralloch try running your usual set up at 5psi more to start with, and experiment a bit on your warm up rides to fine tune it. Keep in mind you are more likely to have an impact related puncture towards the back end of the event as you get tired and your reaction speed drops.

Don't always go for the lightest option

Weight is crucial for race tyres and has a significant impact on how your bike accelerates as well as rolling resistance. However, much like with pressures, those extra gains only count if they stay inflated. Tyre brands are now responding to the increased demands of gravel racers with more suitable options, such as the Continental Terra Adventure tyres, Schwalbe G-One RX Pro and the Vittoria T50, which feature stronger constructions and reinforced sidewalls designed to cope with more demanding terrain. They do carry a small weight penalty, but don't be afraid to opt for something more robust if you don't enjoy fixing punctures.

Pay attention to the tyre construction

Mountain bikers stopped using super-light tyres for anything but the smoothest short-track events sometime ago, and for good reason. Impacts from sharp rocks and roots often cause pinch punctures, especially as you get deep into a race and fatigue sets in, so having something that can deal with the occasional poor choice of line is a real bonus. Light casings are fast and roll well, but don't be afraid to go for something with more protection, especially on areas like the side wall, which are prone to cuts and also tend to be more challenging to repair in a hurry.

Tyre inserts?

While commonplace in the gravity racing world, tyre inserts are still an unusual sight for lots of gravel riders, though with brands like Vittoria getting behind them, this is likely to change. They do add a little bit of weight, but on the road, they don't have much if any impact on rolling resistance. The extra few grams is a small price to pay for the extra security and peace of mind they provide on rocky terrain. Some versions can be fiddly to fit, and you need to invest some time experimenting with pressures to get the most out of them, but they do enable you to run a lower pressure with less risk of a pinch puncture or damage to your rims.

Don't ignore your sealant

There are a few things to consider with sealant. Firstly, check it's still there! Over time, especially if you've had a few punctures that have sealed mid-ride, it can dry out, and once it's dry, it won't seal any small holes. The easiest way to check is by positioning the valve at a six o'clock position, removing the valve core, and inserting a spoke, as you would an oil dipstick in a car, to see if it's still wet. If it's dry, then it's worth removing the tyre, cleaning it and refilling.

Which brings me on to my second tip, picking the right sealant. Some versions are designed to work at higher pressures for pure road use, whereas some work better at the lower pressures you find in gravel. Explore our handy guide to determine what works best for your needs

Adjust your riding style

If you're riding on rougher tracks, it's worth spending some time improving your technique as well. Things like line choices and how you weight the bike in corners and descents can make a big difference to how likely you are to puncture. By being smoother and picking better lines, you can not only gain time on the course, but you can also save energy and time lost fixing mechanicals.

And if all else fails, don't forget to check out our guide on the best tubeless repair kits and how to fix a puncture.

She also travelled to her native Alaska to tackle (and win, again) the Iditarod Trail Invitational 350, a 350-mile fat bike race in the frozen tundra of Alaska. She’s currently in Emporia, Kansas, with the hopes of turning her incredible base and newfound speed into another Unbound XL victory.

“I’m excited! It’ll be fun,” she practically shouted with her trademark giggle.

But what people may not realise is that beyond that ever-present smile, buoyant energy and contagious laughter, Wilcox is as fiercely competitive as they come. She doesn't want to be beaten. Not by anyone. And especially not by men.

Which is why, now that she’s secured the women’s record for fastest circumnavigation of the globe, Wilcox is setting her sights even higher: the overall world record. That means going after the eight-year-old record of ultra-endurance cyclist Mark Beaumont. The Brit completed the 18,032-mile journey back in 2017 in a time of 78 days, 14 hours, and 40 minutes.

“Yeah, I want to beat the men’s record! It’s a classic battle of the sexes,” Wilcox said. “Everyone’s been asking, ‘What man is going to go after this record?’ And none are asking, or even considering, that a woman could do it. And, I think I can.”

It’s classic Lael: optimistic, defiant, audacious.

Around The World in 78 Days

In 2024, Wilcox covered her 18,125 miles across 22 countries and three continents in just over 108 days, averaging about 180 miles a day. To beat Beaumont’s record, she’ll need to ride closer to 230 miles daily and shave a whole month off her previous time.

The idea of that kind of mileage in a day, let alone 78 days in a row, would scare the vast majority of cyclists. But Wilcox? She sees it as doable.

“Last time, I rode 12 hours a day and I was off the bike 12 hours a day because I stopped to talk with people, eat, sleep, all this stuff,” she explained.

“It felt like not only a record ride, but also a global celebration of cycling. And I love the way we did it. It was so fun. But next time I'm going to have to have more of a program to get four more hours a day on the bike, which I can do, you know?"

In this next attempt, the celebration and community aspect will have to take a back seat. She’ll also have to tame her love of climbing and sightseeing. That means a flatter, faster route. Fewer mountain passes. Fewer major cities. Less romance, more rigour.

“Last time I went over all these mountain passes and rode through every major city. I climbed like 640,000 feet or something like that, which is crazy, but I like that. But both of those are kind of time sucks,” Wilcox said. “They're fun, but if it’s a record going for efficiency, you don’t do that.”

To qualify for an Around the World record, riders must cycle a minimum of 18,000 miles in one direction, start and finish at the same location, and traverse at least two antipodal points. Air and sea travel between continents is allowed (but only miles ridden count toward the total), and so is support from a crew. You just cannot draft behind any rider or vehicle.

Wilcox said she’ll have a support crew on this next attempt—someone to help her stay on top of her calories, ensure the bike runs smoothly, and alert her of any detours or road obstructions.

And whereas she “was winging” it the last time around, never truly knowing what she’d be ending up by the end of the day, the route planning will be more methodical this time.

“ For preparation, we have to have a couple options for routes. For efficiency, but also, politically, in case we can’t do one or the other. That’s the reality of now; things are very dynamic,” she commented.

“But also it's such a cool time to do something so hopeful. To have a big dream and show that women are capable of this kind of thing.”

Wilcox truly believes there are more women like her out there, and it’s down to a lack of visibility and access that we don’t see more women taking on big endeavours such as these.

“I think more women can [do this]. If they see that I'm trying to do this, they're like, maybe I could do something like that. Just go for it. We don't always have examples of that. Growing up, we didn't have that.”

Is this even possible?

As with her 2024 record ride, Wilcox will be joined by her wife, Rue Kaladyte, a professional photographer and videographer. Kladyte’s full-length documentary about that ride, Lael Rides Around the World, premiered on YouTube this week after a tour of independent theatres in North America and Europe.

“ The last ride was beautiful. It was great for shooting, but it's not good for racing,” Kaladyte acknowledged. And while the film celebrates a global cycling community and seeing the world on two wheels, she remarked that it may not always paint a full picture of Wilcox.

“I think people get a misconception about Lael 'cause she's always smiling and happy, and I know that they think she's a serious athlete, but they think that it's easy for her or something,” she said. The coverage to come out of the next attempt will likely be very different. One of grit, determination and the suffering required to untake these herculean adventures, Wilcox likes to much.

“The story for next year, it's more about like, is this even possible?” Kaladyte said.

Of course, if anyone can pull it off, it’s Lael Wilcox. Not just because she’s strong or fast, but because she has yet to find her own limit. Let alone one assigned by gender.

“There’s a lot of pieces to put together to make it happen,” she said, “but yeah, I think it is [possible]. And I’m turning 40 next year, so why not?"

Not only is stage 19 a blockbuster mountain affair with a five-star difficulty rating from the race organisers, but it also climbs right from the start, with precious few flat roads thereafter.

Such stages are usually ripe for chaos.

We are deep into a three-week race, when the peloton is depleted and the remaining legs are tired – that means it’s less likely to be controlled by one party. At the same time, there are still plenty of teams yet to get anything out of the Giro, so motivation will be high to go out and get a result today.

The terrain is there to exploit these dynamics – about as explosive as it gets, with an eye-watering 5,000 metres of elevation gain crammed into the space of just 166 kilometres. What that means is that the route is mostly going up or it’s going down, with a scarcity of the valley roads where the race tends to settle down.

The other key factor is the first climb of the day, which comes just 3.7km into the stage. A category-3 ascent at Croce Serra, it’s not hard enough to form a definitive escape, but it should play host to a barrage of attacks from the breakaway hopefuls.

There should be plenty of those; along with the stage hunters, the GC teams will likely have an eye on firing someone up the road to be used as a satellite rider for their leader later on, and the contenders a little further down the standings may sense an opportunity to sneak clear.

After the Croce Serra climb and its descent comes a 25km stretch in the valley - the only sustained flat section of the day - but here it’s likely that attacks will rain without anyone definitely getting away. The Col Tzecore, the first of the three category-1 climbs, is a more likely site for a break to finally form, being hard enough to force a true selection. Still, the race may not completely settle down.

What we’ve seen from Grand Tour stages through the years is that those with this sort of ingredients in the third week of a Grand Tour can explode from the gun, scattering riders over the route with precious little control in any of the groups. Race favourites can quickly be exposed and caught out, especially if their legs aren’t firing right from the start – that’s why most will be warming up on the rollers before the stage.

The route goes on to climb the Col Saint-Pantaleon and the Col de Joux, two long category-1 climbs, ahead of the late category-2 sting at Antagnod. It’s a gruelling day, which should spark drama between the pink jersey hopefuls, even if they’ll have one eye on the brutal Colle delle Finestre on stage 20.

We never used to see the opening kilometres of Grand Tour stages, but the rise in live streaming has opened up the fascinating early dynamics to our viewing pleasure, and stage 19 of the Giro d’Italia should be well worth the early start.

The GC situation

With three stages to go, the Giro d'Italia is perfectly poised. The two pre-race favourites – Primož Roglič and Juan Ayuso – have already gone home, throwing the race wide open.

Mexican youngster Isaac Del Toro (UAE Team Emirates-XRG) still leads the way, but can he cling on amid the chase from more experienced riders behind?

Former Giro winner Richard Carapaz (EF Education-EasyPost) is poised at 41 seconds, while Simon Yates (Visma-Lease a Bike), who came close to winning the Giro in 2018, is a further 10 seconds back.

Where to watch stage 19 of the Giro d’Italia

Stage 19 of the Giro d’Italia is being broadcast in its entirety on many streaming platforms around the world on Friday.

UK: In the UK, live coverage of stage 19 of the Giro d’Italia starts at 11:00 BST on TNT Sports 3 and Discovery+, giving half an hour of build-up even before the riders reach kilometre zero for the start of the stage at 11:30 BST.

North America: In the US, stage 19 of the Giro d’Italia will be live streamed on Max, starting at 6am ET, while in Canada Flobikes’ coverage starts shortly after.

Australia: In Australia, you can watch stage 19 of the Giro d’Italia for free on SBS On Demand, with coverage starting at 8:10pm AEST, 20 minutes ahead of the official start of the stage.

Free: You can watch stage 19 of the Giro d'Italia in many countries, such as Australia as outlined above, but also Italy, Belgium Switzerland, and more.

Watch from anywhere: Use a VPN to unblock your usual streaming services while abroad.

What time is stage 19 of the Giro d'Italia on?

After a short neutralised start, stage 19 of the Giro d'Italia officially gets underway at 12:30pm local time (CET), which is 11:30 BST or 06:30 ET.

The earliest predicted finish time for stage 19 is 16:57 CET, or 15:57 BST, or 10:57 ET.

All major broadcasters in the UK, US, and Australia have live coverage from the start.

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Rather than pitting one against the other, smart riders now combine indoor control with outdoor variety to optimise performance, consistency, and enjoyment.

Whether you’re chasing race results, building endurance, or just trying to stay on track through winter, each setting offers unique benefits.

According to cycling coach Paul Mill of Elitecycling the keys are balance and flexibility. By structuring your week to include both targeted indoor sessions and skill-building outdoor rides, you can maximise gains while keeping motivation high and burnout at bay.

The perfect balance for peak performance

The debate around indoor versus outdoor cycling has evolved beyond ‘which is better, to how do I use both to get better?’. “The smartest riders strike a balance,” says Mill. “One that fits their goals, lifestyle, and environment.”

For committed cyclists fitting training around work, family, and social life, Mill recommends a flexible and realistic training structure every week.

• 2–3 indoor sessions: focused, high-intensity, and time-efficient
• 1–2 outdoor sessions: longer, lower-intensity, and skill-oriented

This split allows riders to hit their performance targets while making the most of their available time - and keeping motivation high through variety. “Flexibility really is the key,” says Mill. “You get the physiological quality indoors and the emotional and technical benefits outdoors.”

Indoor cycling's superpowers

Indoor cycling workouts are great for structure and control. Sessions like high-intensity intervals - VO2 max or anaerobic efforts - benefit from the lack of interruptions. You can lock into exact wattages, hold precise cadence, and stick to recovery periods without worrying about traffic lights or terrain. Ideal indoor sessions include:

• VO2 max and anaerobic intervals: Riding indoors gives you maximum control and intensity
• Threshold workouts: It's easier to hold consistent power targets for 10-60 minutes indoors
• Cadence drills: Isolating and monitoring your technique is simpler without distraction
• Structured intervals: Riding indoors helps you to be more precise with your work-rest ratios
• Race simulations: Taking part in an indoor event like those in the MyWhoosh Sunday Race Club provides you with a high intensity workout, indoor unpredictability, and race-readiness

Outdoor riding's rewards

Outdoor riding is still essential - especially for building endurance and road skills. “There’s no substitute for the mental and physical variety that comes with real terrain, weather, and the dynamics of riding in a group,” insists Mill. Best outdoor sessions include:

• Endurance rides: Longer, steady rides that build aerobic capacity are – for many – easier to do IRL
• Group rides: You can, of course, ride in a huge group in an immersive indoor world but tactics, positioning, drafting and even etiquette are best learned on the opened road
• Technical skills: Cornering, descending, riding in crosswinds, avoiding potholes – you simply can't get better at mastering these skills in front of a screen
• Hill reps: Real, highly variable, gradients challenge your technique and strength differently than simulated climbs

Outdoor hills are worth repeating

“Outdoor hills offer the best training for real-world climbing,” insists Mill. Riders engage more muscles, adapt to changing conditions, and refine technique - standing vs. seated, power delivery, and pacing.

“Outdoors is also better for neuromuscular coordination and handling torque,” Mill adds. “But indoors can work if you’re short on time, daylight, or local terrain.”

For indoor hill simulations, Mill recommends smart trainers paired with rocker plates and gradient simulators to replicate the feel of climbing. “Sure, the latest iteration of cycle training apps add visual immersion - but real-world rides still provide the most full-body engagement.”

The greater outdoors?

The psychological impact of training location can’t be ignored. Riding outdoors offers a powerful mental reset. The exposure to light, nature, and open space boosts mood, the exploration of new routes keeps cycling engaging while the real-world variables – other road users, potholes, force 9 gales and the like – develop mental adaptability and tactical thinking.

On the other hand, indoor training is more efficient in that there’s no faffing with kit, no dealing with traffic, no major mechanicals to stop you in your tracks. Indoor training is – usually – quite laser-focused. (As in the controlled environment helps you hit training targets). There are no issues around sticking to your plan even in the depths of winter either, and thanks to virtual races and group rides there’s no lack of motivation. “Mixing both avoids burnout,” says Mill. “You stay physically sharp and mentally fresh.”

Indoor reality checks

Modern indoor training platforms offer an impressively close simulation of outdoor cycling. Riders can race, climb, and train with precision. But there are still some limits.

That’s why Mill advises blending both styles. “Use indoor training for control and intensity, use outdoor riding to build technical skills, experience real-world conditions, and reconnect with why you ride in the first place.”

It’s not really a question of indoor versus outdoor these days. It’s how to use each to maximum effect. Structured intensity indoors, long steady work and skill-building outdoors, and a training plan that respects your time, weather, and mental energy. “Get the best of both worlds,” says Paul Mill. “The gains come when you combine the control of indoor with the adaptability of outdoor. That’s real training.”

To quote Billy Madison, ​​"Everybody my age pees their pants, it's the coolest." As an adult, it’s not really something I thought I would have to do for my job. Yet, here we are.

If you follow the timeline of when riders started peeing in their pants in off-road racing, you’ll inadvertently parallel the saga of gravel racing, maybe even more specifically that of women’s gravel racing.

In 2019, Specialized turned my UCI cyclocross team into some version of a drop-bar, off-road endurance program. Soon after, I raced my first-ever gravel race: BWR San Diego. I showed up the day before on a bike (a Specialized Roubaix) I had never ridden before, and my jersey pockets full of peanut butter & jelly sandwiches with potato chips stuffed in there – you know, for electrolytes. I didn’t have a mechanic, no support crew, no nutrition plan, not even a head unit. I had absolutely no idea how to race for 140 miles, only athleticism, an unwavering competitiveness and the excitement of the unknown but that’s about it. Not to mention the toe spikes I never took off my shoes from Cyclocross Nationals the year before. In these modern times of gravel, 2025, that would never secure the win. But back then, it did.

That first gravel race changed my life. Contracts were signed, plans were made, and racing was on. I signed up for more endurance races that season, one of which was The Leadville 100. I distinctly remember battling for first place with Rose Grant and leapfrogging. We passed each other on the iconic Columbine climb as the other one was off peeing in the woods. It's a fond memory I will cherish as it’s become a luxury of the past.

We’ve all watched gravel grow from the grassroots, resurrected spirit of American bike racing into a strange yet exciting amalgamation of road, mountain biking and perhaps even some triathlon? The growth has been accelerated in the women’s field as we’ve seen the progression of separate women’s starts and, ultimately, separate races. The pro fields have only gotten faster, some in part due to technology, but a lot of it has been the athletes pushing the envelope.

We have taken advantage of the evolving rulebooks and are doing inventive, albeit often gross, things in the pursuit of speed. Take the high-carb hype for example. In some ways, the amount of sugar we consume is far grosser than the pee problem. Over the span of just four short years, I’ve gone from not knowing what a carb really was to fueling my entire Unbound race on gels and drink mix. Aero equipment is evolving to skinsuits designed to hold hydration bladders, tyres are getting wider, suspension is getting better and lighter, and aid stations seldom see a foot unclip.

Before you start thinking about trying to become a gravel pro, prepare yourself for these weird but fast things:

• Yep: you’re probably going to have to pee in your chamois. Heed the mantra: “In the top 3, you’ve gotta pee.” Outside of that, well, game day decision.
• You'd better learn to love rice—and lots of it! Get ready to carb load until you’re blue in the face. Skip the fat, skip the fibre, skip the yummy stuff. Your life is plain, beige carbs for two to three days out of the big race. Don’t let this massive food consumption trick you. It may sound like fun, but it sucks.
• Gels on gels on gels. Prep your mind, body and bike to have gel everywhere. These little packs of gooey sugar deliver power to the legs but not without some sticky little fingers…and shifters…and jerseys and mouths and faces. In order not to litter, you’ll be storing these sugary little vessels under your jersey, in your pockets and packs. I’ve had them leak into my shorts, down my legs and into my belly button, even.
• You’re going to want a tiny, little crock pot (or, better yet, a fancy one from Silca), not for your grandma’s brisket, but for your chains. Get ready to get real dorky with chain wax and all of the things that come with this fun little arts-and-crafts project. You can impress your friends with how much you know about wax.
• Hope you like your water with, you guessed it, more sugar. Now I get to quote Men in Black: "sugar in water, more, more". I also hope you’re ready to have that sticky fuel all over your bike and legs. Every bump, every jostle will help coat your bike in a layer of sticky, salty sugar water. Maybe the pee will wash it off…...
• If you’re lucky enough to have the tire clearance for those muddy races, be prepared to risk Giardia. Those puddles sure are fun to race through, but they’re also really good at getting cow poop everywhere. Even if you avoid the tyre spray, your bottles won't. Make sure to spray and pray before you drink anything.

Bike racers are a unique breed, we quickly forget how to be normal people in this world. When your brain is full from thinking about watts, carbs, sleep and finish lines, it’s harder and harder to remember how to assimilate into the real world. So ahead of Unbound Gravel, the biggest off-road race in the world, wash your bike before someone else helps you with it.

But the free-to-use virtual cycling app also offers us the opportunity to sync our training with our body’s natural energy peaks and dips – to enhance performance in the saddle, optimize recovery and boost one’s motivation.

MyWhoosh offers riders a range of workouts and training programs, including those designed for Tadej Pogačar, by his coach, Javier Sola. Whether you’re squeezing in a quick interval session before the school run or carving out time for a long virtual ride on a Sunday morning, MyWhoosh adapts to your schedule and supports your goals.

Tuning into your body clock

With its round-the-clock training options, flexible workouts, and immersive environments, MyWhoosh is an ideal platform for syncing your fitness journey with your lifestyle. And also your biology - maximising not just your performance, but your consistency and motivation too.

Your body runs on a finely tuned internal clock known as the circadian rhythm; a natural, 24-hour cycle that governs everything from your sleep-wake patterns to hormone release, body temperature, and, crucially, physical performance.

By aligning your training with these biological rhythms, you can tap into your body’s natural peaks in energy, alertness, and strength, and avoid times when fatigue or sluggishness are more likely to set in.

Early mornings might be ideal for low-intensity endurance work, while afternoon and early evening hours often bring a rise in core temperature and muscular efficiency, making them prime time for high-intensity sessions or personal bests. Similarly, recognising when your body is primed for recovery - such as post-exercise during the evening wind-down - can help you make the most of rest and regeneration.

Be a Morning person

Morning Power Surge (6–10 a.m.) Best time for tougher workouts. Research shows that our core body temperature and cortisol levels begin to rise, upon waking and through the morning, boosting alertness, power output, and performance potential.

MyWhoosh strategy: Tackle FTP builders, HIIT intervals, or pre-recorded VOD (Video on demand) sessions from elite coaches. Use MyWhoosh's Workout Builder to schedule intense sessions while your body is naturally primed.

Tip: Eat a light carbohydrate-rich breakfast 60–90 minutes beforehand to fuel effort and maximise gains.

Light Lunch

Midday Reset (12–2 p.m.) Light recovery or mental refresh. Our alertness typically dips around lunchtime, making it a great time for active recovery or low-stress aerobic riding.

MyWhoosh strategy: Log in for a gentle solo ride through scenic worlds or do a short Zone 2 VOD session. This maintains training consistency without taxing your system.

Tip: Combine with a day nap or stretch session to restore energy and stabilise your sleep-wake cycle.

Afternoon Boost (4–7 p.m.) Social rides and peak endurance workouts. As our body temperature peaks in the late afternoon, reaction time improves, and strength and flexibility are at their highest—ideal for performance and coordination-heavy activities.

MyWhoosh strategy: Join a live coaching session, or coordinate a club ride. The social element and peak performance timing make this window ideal for pushing limits while having fun.

Tip: Fuel with a balanced meal two to three hours beforehand and hydrate well to support extended efforts.

Night riders

Evening wind-down (8–10 p.m.): Casual rides and recovery focus. The brain’s melatonin (sleep hormone) production begins to rise as your body prepares for sleep. Avoiding intense efforts now helps you wind down naturally.

MyWhoosh strategy: Use the app for recovery rides, casual social runs, or to watch previous VODs for inspiration and learning. Earn coins, plan gear upgrades, and scout new events via the Season Pass.

Tip: Use screen night modes or blue-light blockers if training later in the evening

Get Started with MyWhoosh

By syncing your training with your body’s natural rhythm, you not only improve performance - you make fitness a sustainable, rewarding part of your day. With MyWhoosh’s unmatched flexibility, global racing events, and community-driven features, it’s easy to create a personalised training schedule that works for your lifestyle, not against it. Start by downloading the MyWhoosh app on iOS, Android, MacOS or PC, check out the essentials you'll need below and then get riding!

• Smart trainer (and bike) or smart bike
• Compatible device (tablet, smartphone, or PC/Mac)
• Heart rate monitor (optional for deeper metrics)
• (Find out more about compatible devices here)

Long weekender

Weekend warrior zone: Long rides and social immersion, with fewer time constraints, weekends are ideal for longer sessions and building community.

MyWhoosh strategy: Join endurance rides, longer training blocks, or team events. Try seasonal missions. MyWhoosh's rich virtual worlds, challenges, events and races and $1M prize pool provide year-round motivation.

Tip: Plan key weekend rides around your natural high-performance times (late morning or early evening) to maximise enjoyment and output.

Night owls and busy bees

Flexible options for every schedule: Some people naturally peak later in the day - MyWhoosh makes it easy to tailor training to your individual rhythm.

MyWhoosh strategy: Use on-demand sessions anytime, from late night spins to midday stress-busting runs. The app caters to triathletes, avid cyclists, and amateur riders alike.

Tip: Even just 20-minute bursts in a quiet moment can help keep consistency and mood stable - track progress and stay connected socially.

Recovery, nutrition, and sleep

The forgotten third of performance: Sleep is where adaptation happens, and syncing training with your body clock can reduce stress and boost results.

MyWhoosh strategy: Incorporate recovery rides, rest days, and gentle runs into your plan. Use the data tracking feature to monitor signs of fatigue and overtraining.

Tip: Investigate consistent 90-minute sleep cycles, take power naps between 1–3 p.m., and avoid tech and meals late at night for deeper recovery.

Unsurprisingly, this type of event had grown a small, but lively scene in the US. And now it was over here.

With that tongue-in-cheek quote borrowed from the man who made Captain Kirk a cultural icon, Charlie managed to cut through all the BS we put ourselves through ahead of a big ride that sits outside of our comfort zone. In doing so, he immediately put the assembled riders (self included) at ease and cleverly rendered pointless many of the questions we all had.

We all have questions ahead of an event. Especially if it’s new to us. ‘Am I fit enough?,’ ‘Have I got the right bike?, the right clothing?’, ‘Have I packed too little, too much, the right kit?”, “Where am I going to stay?”

All of this is essentially shorthand for: “What the hell have I let myself in for?” It’s only natural to ask these questions, and it’s only natural for an event that involves sleeping out overnight to bring up more of them.

But don’t worry, Cycling Weekly has your back. We’ve spoken to the experts to help put you at ease and, hopefully, lure you into the wonderful world of bikepacking.

What sort of training do I need to do?

Training is at the top of a lot of people’s minds before embarking on the overnight rides, and it seemed only right to start with Charlie’s sage advice.

“Training is for losers. 99% of people who train for a race don’t win. So, on the big weekend a steady as she goes approach will see you alright. Just keep on keeping on, and eat, don’t train – keep your tank full,” said Charlie.

Whether you’re racing or riding for fun, fuel is essential and shouldn’t be overlooked. It’s unlikely if you’re considering an overnighter gravel ride that you’re starting fresh to the world of riding.

You’ll have a good idea of what you’re capable of, how far you can ride and just need to trust in yourself – and the way to keep the faith is as Charlie puts it to “keep your tank full”. He’s not alone in this point of view. Riders who compete in the UK’s 24hr time trial event jokingly refer to it as an eating competition on two wheels.

Fuelling the tank

Someone who knows about keeping themselves fuelled on the go is Vedangi Kulkarni; an explorer and writer who set up the Adventure Shed, a consultancy that helps people plan their trips.

When I spoke to her, she was four days short of completing her second circumnavigation of the world by bike and riding through the searing heat of an Indian spring. Understandably, keeping properly fuelled was at the forefront of her mind.

“With nutrition and hydration, don’t try anything new when you’re on your big trip.” She told me as I heard her tyres hissing on the road and lorries roar by. “Keep to the tried and tested – whether that’s electrolytes on your ride, or a dehydrated meal at the end of the day.”

What about the kit?

Overnighter’s are more than a ride as there’s also the camping aspect to consider, which means working out how you’re going to load up your bike.

What kit you need depends on you, your bike and whether you’re camping (and if camping are you bivying, using a tent, hammock…), if you’re planning on cooking and whether you’re riding solo or with others. It’s a lot to consider and most people will spend years dialling in their system to find what works best for them.

There’s a bewildering array of types and styles of luggage to try with your gravel riding – what started once upon a time with the minimal ethos of Transcontinental founder and endurance rider Mike Hall with minimal dry bags strapped to your frame, has now gone full circle with racks, panniers, saddle bags and even baskets making regular appearances in the gravel scene.

Whatever set up you go with, the message is clear: “Test your kit,” says SRAM ambassador Rachael Walker who is part of Sisters in the Wild, a community focussed on making gravel adventures accessible for women, non-binary and trans riders.

“Testing heading out on your first overnighter means working out what can fit in your bags, how to reattach the bags again and importantly - do they wobble or rub!”

Vedangi agrees and points out the importance of learning from your mistakes too.

“If you’re thinking you’re carrying too much and your bike is too heavy - go with that setup and do what you have to do,” urges Vedangi. “But then come back from this journey and look at what you did and didn’t use, and then take out what you didn’t use - minus your first aid kit – for next time.”

Campside considerations

For some (self included), these overnighters are as much about the mid-ride fun of the camp as the ride itself. I enjoy the challenge of cooking outdoors, and have found practicing on shorter day rides pays off on the big rides, culminating in a porcini risotto presented to fellow riders at Cape Wrath following a long wet day in the saddle – those moments are worth savouring and prepping for.

Stef Amato bikepacker and events lead at Brooks England, renowned for laying on campside feasts and coffee long pours, agrees. “Having something to look forward to at the end of a ride, especially with pals around the camp table, is always a highlight for me on trips,” he says. “With 100g gas canisters and minimalist, lightweight stove-pot sets, there is no reason not to cook up a storm.”

Save on washing up and faff by keeping things “one pot” like risotto and stew suggests Stef, take inspiration from local dishes and always leave space for picking up local produce – or take a musette if space is limited.

And of course, “Make sure you've got something to wash it down with! Even packing a little bottle of cordial is enough to jazz up bidon-bottle water.”

Preparing for the night out

Camping is often where many fledgling overnight riders feel the most anxiety, especially if you have never done stayed outside of a campsite. Katherine Moore, cycling journalist and author of Gravel Rides: South West England answer is, “Choose a location near home or somewhere you know well for the first time out.

“Riding in a place that's known to you can certainly still be an adventure; but it'll let you focus on the overnight element without also having to think about practical elements such as where to pick up supplies, and navigating cultural differences.”

Rachael Walker also suggests keeping an eye on the weather, and preparing accordingly with suitable clothing and equipment like a hot water bottle if you feel the cold, “For your very first overnighter it’s important to be comfortable and enjoy the night or the chances are you might not want to head out again.”

Theres the rub. Gravel overnighters are experiences that are beyond the ride and worth doing in the right way for you.

Get that right and you’re in for a smorgasbord of fun, that will take you to stunning locations, witness the familiar in unfamiliar ways. You’ll join a vibrant and welcoming community and in doing so create memories to stay with you to your last days. So what’s stopping you?

“I think it’s a wonderful, enjoyable place to ride,” he says from Emporia, where he’s done some pre-riding and is now taking it easy just days before race day. “Lovely roads for doing what we’re doing.”

That attitude may sound casual, even blasé, until you know his backstory. Schmid has attempted the Unbound 200 several times before. In 2021, he made it to mile 115 but began vomiting, from what he now believes was heat exhaustion. This left him to reluctantly call for his wife, Suzanne, to pick him up. In another attempt, he reached mile 120 and realised he was behind the time cut. Though he felt physically capable, he chose to stop—something he now regrets. “I should’ve just gone on my own hook,” he says. Last year, he signed up for the shorter 100-mile event and finished. This year, he’s back for the full 200.

He’s not in perfect health. “I’ve had a rhythm of some sort,” he says, referring to a recent bout of arrhythmia-like symptoms that tend to flare when he’s extremely fatigued. “My heart rate was somewhat higher than normal.” Doctors couldn’t find anything structurally wrong, and Schmid is trying to stay calm. He’s resting, doing light rides, and hoping that by Saturday, he’ll feel good enough to go for it.

And if he doesn’t? “We’ll see,” he says. “But if it takes me 24 hours, I’m going to try.”

It’s a mantra that defines Schmid’s entire relationship with cycling, which began in earnest when Suzanne bought him a mountain bike for Christmas in 1994. He was 61 and newly enchanted by the trails near their home in Waco, Texas. Soon, he was racing, then winning, across multiple disciplines. Over the next three decades, Schmid racked up more than 30 national titles in mountain biking, road racing and cyclocross, along with two Masters World Championship jerseys in mountain biking. By his latest count, he owns 49 national championship jerseys. “I wear them all the time,” he says with a laugh. “You don’t get that many chances to wear them.”

On Saturday, he’ll line up in one of those jerseys: bright, bold and easy to spot, just the way Suzanne likes it. “It helps me find him at the feed zones,” she says. “And the locals recognise him now. Some even pull over to wave.”

Schmid’s toughness wasn’t born on a bike. He spent five decades as a land surveyor in the Texas heat, swinging a bush axe through poison ivy and mosquitoes. The work was brutal, but quitting wasn’t an option. “You just kept going,” he says. “Everyone else was out there doing the same.” That work ethic still drives him today.

Despite the stack of titles, jerseys and medals, Schmid doesn’t see himself as competitive. “I’m just trying to do the Fred thing,” he says. “Ride my bike, enjoy life.”

When it comes to gear and preparation, Schmid approaches Unbound like any other serious rider. He’s meticulous about tyre pressure, rolling resistance and fueling strategy. He rides a Cannondale Flash from the early 2010s with a Lefty fork and 60mm tyres, chosen for comfort and reliability. He’s got a Garmin with hourly fueling alerts, a radar unit to detect cars, and a carefully dialled nutrition plan: 70–80 grams of carbs per hour using SIS Beta Fuel, with backup gels and occasional Fig Newtons for morale.

Part of that preparation includes keeping up with the latest advice. “He likes to know what Dylan Johnson says,” Suzanne adds, referring to the popular cycling YouTuber, coach and Life Time Grand Prix racer. “Fred emails him sometimes, and he always writes back.”

Suzanne, 76, is a retired neuropsychologist, fellow cyclist, and Schmid’s logistical mastermind. She got her own bike not long after surprising her husband with his first one, and the two have been riding together ever since. These days, she focuses more on support than speed, managing hydration, feed zone handoffs and real-time data checks from Fred’s Garmin. “He has reminders to drink every seven and a half minutes,” she says. “And yes, I check if his pack and bottles are empty. If they’re not, I chastise him.”

Schmid doesn’t do it alone. For over 25 years, he’s been coached by Tracey Drews at CTS Coaching, a longtime expert in guiding masters and senior athletes. “I sometimes think she asks too little of me,” Fred says. But Drews, who’s coached riders up and down the age spectrum, understands the balance between pushing and preserving. She helps him plan his training around fatigue, recovery, and the unique challenges that come with racing at 92.

Schmid doesn’t train alone. Most of his riding buddies, like Whitney Fanning, are decades younger. “I ride with Whitney most weekends,” he says. “We’ll do 50 to 100 miles, gravel, road, whatever.” He laughs when asked if younger riders treat him differently. “They’re just friends. Good friends.”

That camaraderie is what keeps him going and what makes the cycling and gravel scenes feel like home. “We see people we haven’t seen for months,” says Suzanne. “You make new friends. It keeps you up about people and relationships.”

Asked about misconceptions around ageing, Schmid is blunt. “People think old folks are different from young people. But the enjoyment of life doesn’t change.” He’s candid about the aches that come with age, like arthritis in his left ankle that keeps him from walking very far, but says it never bothers him on the bike. “I guess I have pain,” he shrugs. “But I ignore it.”

He likes to quote fitness pioneer Jack LaLanne: “Show me someone over 40 with no pain and I’ll show you a liar.” Now, 52 years past 40, Schmid says that pain is real, but it’s not a reason to stop doing the things you love. “Mentally, you just resist the idea that you’re getting old,” he says. “In your head, you’re still 18.”

Suzanne puts it even more plainly: “The biggest mistake people make is letting age dominate their lives,” she says. “They start focusing on what’s wrong and what’s wrong with their friends. If something hurts a little, they think they should quit. But no, don’t quit. Do it some more until it doesn’t hurt. You will get better at it.”

To be clear, neither of them is suggesting you ignore serious injury. There’s a difference between discomfort—the kind that comes with effort—and real pain. “Use your judgment,” Suzanne adds. “But don’t let fear of discomfort keep you from living.”

Schmid has lived a full life, and riding bikes keeps adding to it. He once flew sailplanes and raced gliders, logging thousands of hours in the air. He’s sailed the Gulf Coast with Suzanne and climbed Mount Evans in cold rain, lightning cracking overhead. But of all his adventures, cycling remains the most enduring joy of his later years.

And no, he doesn’t feel pressure to be inspirational. “People say I am,” he says, “but that’s not the goal. I’m just enjoying being Fred.”

If he finishes Unbound this year, it’ll be a story of redemption and quiet triumph. If he doesn’t, it won’t change the fact that he’s already won—at life, at cycling and at making peace with the brutal math of age without ever letting it define him.

When asked if there are any bucket-list rides left, he pauses and shrugs. Nothing comes to mind. It’s as if, after decades of riding trails, mountains and centuries across the country, he’s already done everything he ever needed to do.

“I’ve done several things in my life that I’ve enjoyed tremendously,” he says, “but cycling is the one that’s stayed with me.” After all these years, it’s the simple act that still brings him joy: “Being able to put my leg over the bike, that’s what gives me the most satisfaction.”

The result: a torn hamstring. So torn, in fact, that, at one point, the black-purple bruise extended from the bottom of my ass to the top of my ankle.

Gone were the half-dozen cross races I was hoping to do last autumn, the mountain bike races, weekly BMX events that my seven-year-old son and I compete in together, and the track races and training at our nearby velodrome. Gone were my beloved Saturday morning rides, which, at minimum, tick around 100 kilometers.

I was off the bike for the foreseeable future and, the doctor promised, whenever I did return, it would be a long time before I could make any real power; power that was, at the time, gave me an FTP (Functional Treshold Power) of 340 watts.

Somewhere in those dark, fitness-free months, a publicist working with the online training app Rouvy contacted me. Might I be interested in trying out the app, specifically the training plan created by Dutch uber team Visma-Lease a Bike, to see how it might impact my fitness, he wondered.

And so began my sixteen-session, six-week training plan.

While Rouvy's training sessions are intended to be done on your indoor trainer, they can easily be complemented with outdoor rides, especially those focused on longer, more sustained, and endurance-building zone-two efforts.

During my Visma Lease-a-Bike training block, I still stuck to my regular Saturday metric century, a three-ish hour ride which averages around 20mph at 230 watts.

Training plan kick off

The plan started, as all training blocks should, with an FTP test. I chose the 40-minute ramp test which, after a solid warmup, kicked up the resistance by twenty watts every minute. The idea is to hold on and keep pedaling for as long as possible.

The results shocked me, owing no doubt to the fact that I was staying as fit as possible during my recovery with regular HIIT workouts (avoiding any squats, deadlifts, or explosive lower movements), plenty of walking, and more yoga than usual. I notched a 315w FTP, a five-minute power output of 371w, and one-minute output of 552.

At around 255 pounds (or 116kg), I was average at best, capable of 2.7 watts/kilo. Still, going into the FTP test, I thought I was going to be in much worse shape than 315w.

But, every fitness journey has to begin somewhere. Once I had all of my base metrics, I jumped in, clicking on the first session the next morning.

Training was easy, which is one thing I love about virtual riding. For my road rides, I have to kit up, prep my bike, ride (or drive) to the start of the ride, BS with my riding buddies for five or ten or fifteen minutes before finally setting off for the ride. With virtual training, all I need are bibs, socks, and two bottles of water. Everything that needs to happen happens twenty feet away from my bedroom, in my basement pain cave-slash-bike shop. Given the ease of bite-sized, forty-ish minute sessions, I had no problem fitting the routine into my daily life.

Notice how I said “training” was easy. Not “the training.” Because, while the process of training—the act of getting on the bike and into the workout—was easy, the training itself was anything but.

The brutal reality

The Rouvy workouts were no doubt tailored for the working-class cyclist; for the person who doesn’t have five daily hours to commit to training rides. Surely, Sepp Kuss’s training rides aren’t exactly the thirty-eight-minute VO2 max ride I did in my basement. However, the principals were the same, taken from Sepp or Matteo Jorgenson or Wout van Aert and shrunken down to suit the average Joe, the weekend warrior and his 2.7 w/kg. And man, were they brutal.

“The virtual training sessions are quite similar to the real-life training our pro riders do in preparation for events,” said Visma Lease-a-Bike coach Mathieu Heijboer. “While our riders train on a variety of terrains, the goal is the same: building endurance, strength, and FTP.”

Heijboer added that the key to increasing FTP is a combination of consistency and progressive overload, which was clear as I made my way through the training block’s sixteen workouts. Week one, while tough, was nowhere near as taxing as week two. Week three put them both to shame and by week four, I was glad to be nearing the finish. Of course, of that is to say that week one was easy. But the knowledge that my strength was, in theory, increasing helped ease the pain of training.

By the end of each of the block’s sessions, which averaged around forty minutes, I was toast. A glistening puddle of sweat pooled beneath my bike, my bibs and shirt were soaked, and my legs screamed for mercy. Pound-for-pound, second-for-second, these were some of the most intense workouts I’ve done on a bicycle.

But were they working?

Halfway through the sixteen-session block, it was hard to say, owing in large part to the versatility of the workouts.

The workouts ticked all of the notes in a cyclist’s toolbox. There was cadence work and VO2 max rides, climbing efforts, endurance rides, and anerobic workouts.

Some, like Simon Yates’s thirty-four-minute spin up ride, which focused on the all-important cadence work, felt almost like a hard warmup.

While others, like Steven Kruijswijk’s eighty-minute tempo workout, had me producing 85% of my FTP for four eight-minute blocks with just 90 seconds of rest between (that one had me, an avowed atheist, seeing Jesus).

Most of them were somewhere in between, though closer to Kruijswijk’s hell session than Yates’s easy day.

Given the consistent inconsistency of the workouts and the fact that I felt absolutely drained after most of the sessions, I wouldn’t know if my overall fitness, the all-important FTP, was being impacted. But, according to Heijboer, so long as I stayed consistent and followed the plan, my strength should increase.

“This process trains your body to handle and clear lactate more effectively, which ultimately lets you sustain harder efforts for longer,” he said. “So, it’s not just about doing hard sessions; it’s about doing them in a way that your body can adapt to over time. Consistency is crucial.”

After sixteen blocks of training, I climbed back on my trainer to see what, if any, impact training like a Visma Lease-a-Bike rider had on me.

Before my second FTP test, I revisited my interview with Heijboer, who outlined what seemed like a huge jump for me.

“For someone newer to structured training or coming back after some time off, a 5-10% increase over 6 weeks is a solid target,” he said.

The results are in

I’m hardly new to structured training. However, those four months that found me off the bike, tending to my torn and healing hamstring, meant I was looking for as much as a 10% gain in FTP. Could my FTP have jumped from 315 to 346 in just six weeks?

Maybe. To quote the great Greg LeMond, “It doesn’t get easier. You just get faster.”

And that couldn’t be more true than during the soul-crushing FTP ramp test. Because in those 40 mintues, I suffered more than I did on Kruijswijck’s tempo ride, more than I did on Mattteo Jorgenson’s Vo2 max HIIT ride, more than I did on Jonas Vingegaard’s climb ride.

But, in the end, true to Heijboer’s promise, I got stronger. Though I didn’t quite see the 10% increase of 31 watts, the result was a 6%, 19-watt jump, from 315 to 334, six watts shy of my pre-injury 340 mark. My five-minute power increased 5% from 371 to 390, as did my one-minute output, which went from 552 to 580w.

So, can I expect another 6% increase if I spend the next six weeks training “with” Visma Lease-a-Bike?

Unlikely. “As you get fitter, progress tends to slow down and diminishing returns usually start when you’ve already made significant progress, Heijboer said. “After the first few training blocks, you might see big improvements, maybe 5 points. But as you get fitter, those gains will naturally start to decrease."

"Plateaus are normal and happen when your body has adapted to the current training load. That’s when you need to get creative. Change up the type of efforts, increase volume, or vary the intensity to continue progressing. FTP gains are rarely linear.”

Whatever. After four months sidelined with an injury, it felt great to just be on a bike. Getting stronger is just icing on the cake.

How times have changed. The bicycle industry has fostered a reliance on discounting and most consumers now actually begrudge helping out their local store by paying full price for something, much preferring to seek out discounted deals online. Part of this is down to the seasonal nature of marketing lead products, just like fashion brands. Nobody needs a new top spec carbon race bike every year. I’ve been riding the same road bike for the past 12 years with just as much fun as the first day I swung a leg over it. But the big brands need you to buy more regularly so they create yearly colour changes and market the hell out of every new detail change on this year's model, no matter how small, with the World Tour riders the catwalk models of the cycling world.

What happened to RRPs?

Nowadays, finding a product actually sold at RRP feels as rare as spotting a Brompton rider in Lycra. The question is: what happened? Why do we live in a world where RRPs are quoted more often as jokes than real figures?

The short answer? The RRP is no longer the standard it once was—it’s now more of a hopeful suggestion. And the long answer? Well, it’s a story of fashion based marketing, market saturation, global oversupply, online pricing wars, and changing consumer expectations.

Let’s talk numbers. In the aftermath of the Covid-induced cycling boom, brands and distributors were riding high. Panic buying had stripped stockrooms bare. Eager new cyclists were queueing up for everything from inner tubes to indoor trainers. So in its naivety, the industry cranked up production to meet demand…..and then the bubble burst.

By the end of 2022, that once-in-a-lifetime sales surge had begun to ebb. But the stock kept coming. Apart from Shimano, who are such a behemoth it takes more than a global pandemic to shift the course of their ship, the warehouses were overflowing with bikes and components.

So in a panic the industry hit the eject button. First 10%. Then 20%, then before long, carbon road bikes with Shimano Di2 were being flogged off at 40–50% under RRP. And it wasn’t just the independent retailers, some of the biggest discounts were coming from the brands themselves, directly to consumers or through official online channels. More than usual the acronym RRP started to mean Recession Reaction Panic!

Let's be honest, some people are loving this. If you're a thrifty consumer in the market for a new bike or an upgrade, it’s a buyer’s market. I’ve seen clients bring in bikes for service that would’ve been out of their reach a couple of years ago.

The impact on local bike shops

Unfortunately, the hidden damage to the industry is that the ones getting squeezed are the independent bike shops and smaller brands. Bricks and mortar retailers have to compete with online giants that are slashing prices they can’t afford to match. Shops still sitting on stock they bought at full wholesale prices a year or two ago are now watching it lose value on the shop floor. Some are being forced to sell below cost just to free up cash and space, and some of the brands aren’t helping. I was witness to a store recently that had back ordered a load of bikes during Covid that didn’t turn up due to supply issues. Assuming the orders had been cancelled the store owner didn’t think about the lack of supply due to the slowing market. Then a truck turned up one day and delivered all of the previous four back orders, all at once. The store didn’t have the physical space to take in the boxed bikes and they were just left on the pavement outside while the delivery driver drove away.

And let’s spare a thought for mechanics too. When the value of a product drops dramatically, consumers often assume the value of services should drop too. I’ve had customers look at me sideways when I quote £50 for a full drivetrain clean—after all, they picked up a new cassette for £29.99 online. The parts may be cheaper, but the labour, the expertise, and the time? That hasn’t changed.

In the short term the current glut of stock has been a win for consumers but if we zoom out, the picture is more complex. We risk damaging the ecosystem that keeps cycling alive, not the brands, but the bike shops. These places are more than sales points, they’re community hubs, workshop spaces, sources of advice, and pit stops for every ride. If the industry keeps pushing prices down online, without supporting local retail, we’ll lose these spaces. And once they’re gone, they won’t come back.

Interestingly some of the online only brands such as Canyon seem to have understood this better than other conventional brands and seem to be investing in creating well supported local stores that can support their customers

Can RRPs be saved? Honestly, not in their current form. I think you should be very suspect of any brand that is essentially marketing this year’s colour scheme. If the brand is marketing its products as if they are disposable, maybe you should consider that when you are buying your ‘dream bike’?

What would I do if I was a customer in the market for a new bike or component today? I would consider the long-term value of service, warranty support, and relationship with my local store. If the model I’m buying is out of date before I’ve finished paying for it, maybe I need to reevaluate what it is I’m buying. In today’s market, the real bargains might not come in a box, they might come with a handshake, a smile, and someone who remembers your name.

The question came up just recently over a post-work beer with CW’s lensman Richard ‘Butch’ Butcher. As we debated the city’s best mode of transport, Butch casually threw down a challenge: a race across London – me on two wheels, him relying on trains and buses. It was the perfect chance to put theory to the test.

A few weeks later, the date was set and the route mapped out. The challenge: a race from Heathrow Terminal 3 in the west to Lee Valley VeloPark in the east. Once we’d arrived at Heathrow, Butch had the simpler task – head downstairs to the Elizabeth Line, hop on a train, and ride it to Stratford before making the short walk to the VeloPark. On paper, his journey was straightforward: a 48-minute station-to-station ride. But London’s transport network isn’t always predictable, and he’d have to navigate crowds of commuters, tourists and students making the most of February half-term.

My journey was somewhat more complicated. Covering 22 miles by bike, I could theoretically make it in 60 to 70 minutes – helped by mostly flat terrain, just 300 feet of elevation and a prevailing tailwind. But London is, to state the bleeding obvious, a frantically busy place. Beating Butch would take speed, luck, and – let’s not dress it up – a touch of madness.

Placing total faith in my Garmin, I ripped so fast away from the airport that I claimed a Strava KOM on the neighbouring road tunnel. Heading into the suburbs of Hounslow and Osterley, with the Great Western Road now under my wheels, I could truly fire up my Canyon Endurace, which buzzed beautifully along a mostly well maintained cycle path. Cars next to me restricted to 20mph could only watch on with envy as I pushed hard on the pedals – no ULEZ, no diesel, no petrol. Proceeding free of charge and fast, I wondered how Butch’s journey was treating him. By now he was surely aboard a Stratford-bound tube, a thought that instinctively led me to click up a gear and drop down into a more aerodynamic position.

As I passed through Brentford then Chiswick, my speed started to suffer. It was half-term after all, the car traffic was humming with day-tripping families. Here I was, a minnow snared amid people carriers and 4x4s the size of basking sharks. Fortunately, London now boasts more than 400 kilometres’ worth of cyclepaths – generally not segregated from traffic, but on this part of the journey, they were well maintained and well marked. It’s easy to get lost in the noise of the big city, it becomes overwhelming. But if you take a mental step back and assess the situation with a clear head, it becomes less daunting. There’s a 20mph speed limit, there’s a network of paths for the exclusive use of bicycle riders – meaning it might even be safer than riding my local roads in Berkshire and Hampshire. It’s hard to compare the risks, but bear in mind that, between 2019 and 2023, 58% of cycle fatalities occurred on rural roads despite those roads accounting for only 31% of traffic. Last year, 10 cyclists were killed on London’s roads – two more than in 2023 (of a total 87 fatalities nationwide), but still significantly down on the 2010-2014 baseline of 13 per year.

The closer you get to the centre of London – by now I had bisected Hammersmith and was forging a fast path towards Kensington – the day-tripping vehicles were thinning out. Although now a new set of obstacles began to emerge: double decker buses became the bain of my existence. They stop, they go, they stop, they go, and then they just stop. A mile later, Kensington and Hyde Park were delightfully bus-free, and I made time amid the chatter of parakeets and the multi-lingual patter of backpackers enjoying an uncharacteristically warm February day. The sun washed a long winter from my face – I began to feel free, optimistic, and almost forgetful of the task at hand. No, cycling across London isn’t likely to feature on any bucket lists, but beholding famous monuments – the Royal Albert Hall to my right, Kensington Gardens to my left – it was hard not to be dazzled. The upbeat moment soon passed, however, as I was now entering Trafalgar Square – and immediately started hating everything again.

This was the busiest section so far: I literally had to stop cycling. Every direction I turned, a wall of people stood barring the way. I should’ve spent more time planning the route. Never mind that this was the shortest route, as the crow flies, I’d forgotten to factor in the 21 million tourists that visit London each year – most of them flocking to Trafalgar Square, evidently.

Once again, a bike path came to my rescue. This one, adjacent to the river, is a fast-rolling gem. I formed an aero tuck as best as my ample midriff would allow and dropped a wattbomb towards the East End. After quickly checking his location on Whatsapp, I was amazed to see that Butch and I were level pegging. He was in Farringdon with just two stops left until Stratford. I made a mockery of the Moorgate traffic, shot through Shoreditch and rode like a bat out of Bethnal Green towards Victoria Park – the last expanse of the capital’s greenery I’d traverse today.

The way London transitions through an architectural metamorphosis from side to side is seamless but stark. From the middle-class wealth and detached homes with double garages in the west, the tall, glass office blocks and immaculately preserved Gothic buildings of the city centre, to the worryingly well-populated cardboard cities in Blackfriars, and the council estates and tower blocks silhouetted against the East End’s skyline. The sights, the sounds, the aromas of a place become so much more tangible on a bicycle than in a bus or in a car – and are completely missed on the Tube.

But today was not about scenery – could I prove cycling was also the fastest option? I feared Butch would already be there, poised to triumphantly shove his Oyster Card in my face: “Read it and weep, Lycra Boy,” he’d say, and demand an ale at the closest pub. I couldn’t let it happen. I skirted West Ham’s home ground at speed – my heart rate now high, pushing into Zone 5 territory. I arrived at the Velodrome. Butch wasn’t there.

I checked my Garmin. It had taken me an hour and 40 minutes to ride what transpired to be 25 miles, across one of the busiest cities in the world – a plucky 15mph. According to TFL, it should’ve taken Butch 10 minutes less. Had he been and gone? Hang on, I recognised that gait, and that jacket, and those trainers. Butch was shuffling towards me from the direction of the Tube station. I won? I won! He grinned. We bumped fists. “Yes, you won, you spawny sod,” he said, before launching into excuses about his slow progress.

Would I ride in London again? Unless Butch ups the ante and starts talking cold hard cash, no, probably not. Is this because I felt unsafe? Put it this way, I wouldn’t be happy for my daughters to ride bikes in London – but then nor would I be happy if they rode bikes in rural Hampshire. I felt not greatly more at risk traversing the capital than I do riding down to the end of my road on the Hants/Berks border.

As cyclists, we sadly have to draw up a risk assessment every time we ride. Every time I think I’ve plotted a ‘safe’ route, I’m hit with an anomaly – a close-pass here, a hidden pothole there. In London, you’re not expecting a relaxing ride – you’re expecting close passes, but the cycle paths I rode on were blemish-free. If I lived in London, I would happily commute on a frequent, if not daily, basis. It’s got to be better than the Tube, right?

CW photographer Richard Butcher tells his side of the story…

Never make bets over a beer – a valuable life lesson. A convivial post-work beer initiated the debate, and the amber nectar had kicked in when Steve insisted he could beat me across London on a bike.

Brimming with confidence at the start, I tapped my Oyster card at Heathrow Terminal 3, and descended the escalator, confident of my unhindered travel ahead. Easy money, I thought, as I approached the platform and the train that would whisk me to Stratford. I wouldn’t even need to change trains. Besides, Steve was probably still faffing with his Garmin.

And then, just as I was picturing my inevitable victory, a man in a fluorescent vest burst my victorious bubble. “Problems on the westbound line, mate. You’ll have to get off at Ealing Broadway and get on the central line to Stratford.” Of course.

I stood on the platform and watched helplessly as the minutes ticked by, my lead evaporating before the race had even properly begun. The Elizabeth Line, London’s pride and joy, its futuristic answer to ‘getting nowhere fast’, had let me down at the very first hurdle.

By the time we finally moved some 20-odd minutes later, I checked my phone. Steve was already on the Chiswick High Road! I kept my composure – just about – and as soon as I reached Ealing Broadway, I leapt off like a man on a mission. That was when they arrived. Schoolchildren. Hundreds of them.

My simple commute turned into a challenge to survive as I was jostled and bumped, pushed and pulled in many different directions and I barely made it to the correct train. By the time I finally wrestled my way onto the Central Line, I was rattled, and wedged among 150 excitable children and a man with a suspiciously large suitcase.

Despite the chaos, I made good time on the Central Line, as the train whooshed along, the air thick with that signature Underground scent – a mix of warm metal, damp coats, and existential regret. I looked down at my phone again. Steve was catching me fast. Then, in a moment of true commuter incompetence, I missed Stratford. All it took was a second of distraction. So busy was I checking my phone for Steve’s GPS signal, and my pale blue dot on the map, that I forgot how many stops had preceded the very one I was at now. The doors pinged shut, I half-stood, hesitated for a fatal moment, and then watched, in horror, as Stratford disappeared behind me. I was en route to Leyton.

The train doors flung open again, and this time I bolted onto the platform, scrambling for the opposite side. I leapt onto a train heading east and stood there, fuming with no concept of how I had managed to be so inept. I had one job, I muttered to myself. Gasping, I ran through the retail park, towards the velodrome, just in time to see Steve smugly coasting towards me. “I thought you’d been and gone,” he grinned. I had – but from Leyton.

This feature originally appeared in Cycling Weekly magazine on 3rd April 2025. Subscribe now and never miss an issue.

At first Monger used a mountain bike dropper seatpost on his road bike, allowing him to stay seated and lower the seatpost at stops. But when training for the 2024 Ironman World Championships in Kona, Hawaii, he needed a more efficient solution. The breakthrough came with a magnetic cleat. “It enabled me to attach and detach quickly and made a huge difference,” he says. “After an hour of practice in a car park, we found a technique whereby I could start and stop safely.” The next day, he rode solo for over an hour without issues. “That’s when I knew I could do it.”

Monger rides three to four times a week, mostly focusing on steady Zone 2 endurance rides. “About 90% of my training for Kona was in Zone 2, with higher-intensity intervals. No matter how much I train, my left leg will never match my right in terms of power output – but the key was improving my overall strength as a cyclist.”

The power imbalance means cycling won’t ever be his strongest event. “I’m a pretty decent swimmer but then I get overtaken a lot on the 90k bike ride. That was demoralising at first, but then I found myself overtaking on the descents – I guess the motor racing driver in me made me a bit braver.”

What I’ve learned: “Getting outside, feeling the fresh air, and taking in the scenery – training can be tough, but there’s something special about just being out there on the road.”

If I could change one thing: “There’s still a stigma around cyclists, and sometimes the way we’re treated on the road can put people off from even trying. I just wish we could get to a point where all cyclists – whether able-bodied or para-athletes – are given more space and respect.”

Jaco van Gass

Jaco van Gass was serving with the British Army in Afghanistan in 2009 when a rocket-propelled grenade attack resulted in the loss of his left lower arm. Inspired by London 2012, he pursued paracycling, refining his prosthetics with coach John Hewitt, to create an innovative ‘wing’ prosthetic.

The ‘wing’ was controversially banned on the eve of the Tokyo 2020 Paralympics, in which Van Gass won two golds. “We still got the result, but there’s a resistance to advancements in upper-limb prosthetics among those governing the sport.”

Van Gass also won double gold at Paris 2024 with a locked-in prosthetic he uses for track and time trials. “Because it’s locked in I have to generate my power from a seated position which is really tough.”

On the road, the 38-year-old switches to a longer prosthetic that enables him to rise out the saddle to generate torque. Van Gass’s approach to training off the bike has developed over time too. “I use my ‘gym arm’ – a multifunctional prosthetic with a ratcheted grip and a lockable elbow – to lift heavy weights.” He trains six days a week, with the training tailored toward whichever event is up next. “In the off-season I work on weak spots and ways to improve any deficiencies.”

What I’ve learned: “Cycling isn’t just about getting on a bike and riding. It’s the hours in the saddle, the time spent training in all weather conditions, the strength and conditioning work off the bike – and for para-cyclists we’re constantly looking for ways to maximise performance within our own limitations.”

If I could change one thing: “More integration with able-bodied events. Ask someone to name WorldTour riders, they could probably do a dozen without thinking. But ask them to name para-cyclists and they can’t. That’s not because we don’t have the talent – it’s because we don’t have the same exposure.”

Daphne Schrager

Like Van Gass, Daphne Schrager, 24, took inspiration from London 2012 and tried out for para-canoeing, rowing and cycling. “I couldn’t balance in the canoe and was too short for rowing – so cycling got me.” Watersports’ loss has been para-cycling’s gain, with Schrager now one to watch in the C2 category thanks to a silver medal won in the women’s pursuit at Paris 2024.

Schrager has cerebral palsy (CP), suffering bouts of poor muscle coordination, stiff or weak muscles, neural lapses and tremors. “At the moment I have a lot of double training days as we're focused on a big strength-building drive. I have an issue that’s quite common among athletes with CP whereby some muscle fibres fire better than others – in my case, I can't recruit my hamstrings.”

To combat this, Schrager does hyperoxic sprints on a stationary bike – breathing a higher oxygen concentration than normal air to improve endurance and reduce muscle fatigue. She says having strong glutes and calves helps her compensate for the lack of hamstring strength. “I’m doing a lot of leg presses now as well as banded exercises, glute bridges, Bulgarian squats – we hate those – and Nordic curls which really help engage and develop my hamstrings.”

Bike adjustments are helping too. “On the bike, we’ve fitted shorter cranks which means the turnover is shorter so I don’t have to recruit the muscles as much at the bottom of the turn. Also, my handlebar ends turn inwards because I can’t clasp my hands very well. The developments are neverending.”

What I’ve learned: “I sometimes have neural dips where I can’t coordinate or control the bike. I’ve learnt to look out for the warning signs and ease up on training when they strike.”

If I could change one thing: “I wish people weren’t afraid to ask questions. Kids do – it’s natural curiosity – but adults often shy away, fearing offence. If people asked instead of assuming, we’d break down so many awkward barriers.”

Fin Graham

Fin Graham grew up in the Borders of Scotland, drawn to mountain biking from an early age. Despite having been born with bilateral club feet, meaning he has barely any calf muscle and little ankle movement, he managed to develop his off-road riding skills while wearing special splints supporting the ankle and calf area. In 2016, he transitioned to road and track cycling through the para-cycling pathway. “The biggest difference? Lycra and shaving my legs!” says the 25-year-old. “Coming from mountain biking, that was a shock. The first time I tried, I looked like I’d been attacked by an animal!”

Graham adapted quickly, winning seven world championship golds alongside his Paralympic title from Paris. “When I started my para-cycling journey, I had further assessments by neurologists, who discovered I have spinal muscular atrophy with lower-limb involvement. But I’m fortunate in that I don’t need any major adaptations like brake-splitters to the bike, as some para-cyclists do. I can pretty much jump on any bike and make it work.”

Since Paris, Graham has focused on building muscle. “I was around 63kg but I don’t need to be that light. Extra weight helps with power on the track, and in para-cycling, there aren’t Alpine climbs where being ultralight is crucial.”

He prioritises three gym sessions, emphasising deadlifts, leg presses, and upper body work. “Afterward, I’ll spin the legs for a couple of hours, but right now, strength is the focus, then it’s warm-weather road training in Calpe, Spain, before the season begins.”

What I’ve learned: “Recovery is under-rated. When I started, I was commuting from Scotland to Manchester Velodrome while working to fund myself. Recovery wasn’t a priority. Now, I can rest properly, refuel, and get quality sleep - it’s made a huge difference.”

If I could change one thing: “The myth that para-sport is easier. We train just as hard, sometimes harder - yet our achievements rarely get the recognition they deserve.”

Lizzi Jordan

Lizzi Jordan was midway through a psychology degree when, in 2017, severe food poisoning from a takeaway meal robbed her of her sight. After three months in a coma due to an E. coli-triggered immune response, she awoke weakened but alive, thanks to a last-resort antibody treatment.

A keen horse rider, she switched to cycling after a 2020 talent ID programme and won three golds at the Rio World Championships, plus Paris 2024 gold with partner Danni Khan. “Tandem cycling is about trust, communication, and adapting to challenges,” says the 27-year-old. Jordan trains solo and with pilots, balancing turbo sessions with real-world rides. Living in Surrey, while Khan is in Birmingham, they meet in Manchester before competitions. She trains five days a week on a stationary bike and joins her local cycling club on weekends.

For any cyclist, turbo training can be monotonous, but for Jordan, it presents additional challenges. "I use Zwift like most cyclists do, but because I can’t read the numbers on the screen, I need someone to sit next to me and read them out," she explains. "Zwift does have an erg mode, where I can set a certain wattage for a set time, and it makes a noise when shifting power zones. That helps with basic endurance training, but for more specific workouts, I need assistance.” Jordan has been advocating for audio prompts to be added to Zwift and other virtual cycling platforms. "It’s not just a para-cycling thing – even sighted cyclists would benefit. When you're in the middle of a hard effort, the last thing you want to do is look up at tiny numbers on a screen!"

Out on the road, Jordan’s not fussy about her pilot’s fitness levels – what’s crucial is competency and safety. “I need someone who can handle the tandem well, communicates loud and clear, then I – as the stoker – can put the power through the pedals." To generate that power, Jordan dedicates time to strength and conditioning. "In the gym I’ve got a great personal trainer who helps me execute strength drills which I need to have explained to me rather than demonstrated. My trainer says that my form is often better than others because I focus intently on listening to instructions.”

What I’ve learned: "On the tandem, you’re relying entirely on your pilot, so you have to trust them completely. It’s all about working together, being clear with each other, and anticipating what’s ahead."

If I could change one thing: “People don’t realise how much teamwork goes into it. It’s not just the stoker putting in the power or the pilot steering – it’s about perfect synchronisation. When everything clicks, it’s amazing."

Credits: Thanks to the Great Britain Cycling Team. Billy Monger is supporting comicrelief.com

“I walked in a little sheepishly and said I’ve been really busy the last week,” she tells Cycling Weekly.

‘Really busy’ is an understatement. Last Friday, Ruggins broke the overall record for cycling the length of the UK and back – John o’ Groats to Land’s End to John o’ Groats (JOGLEJOG) – doing so in five days, 11 hours and 14 minutes. During that time, she rode 2,700km, climbed almost 20,000m, and slept for only eight hours.

“People are struggling to comprehend the distances,” she smiles. “As am I, to be fair.”

A PhD graduate from Canada, now a finance professional, the 37-year-old had spent five months planning the record attempt, together with a crew of eight people, who would support her from two vehicles on the road. Less than two days before the scheduled start, however, the plan changed suddenly. Stormy weather in Cornwall made it safer to start in Scotland, and do the route backwards. LEJOGLE became JOGLEJOG. The team made its way up north.

It was 8am on a Sunday, 11 May, when Ruggins set off from John o’ Groats. “I was very calm and ready, with a clear mind,” she says. “When I started, I was almost in tears, but it was from gratitude for having my crew around me, and the fact that I was able to make it to that point.”

There were years in the Canadian’s life when she feared she would not walk again.

After a childhood spent on the athletics track, breaking national running records, Ruggins was diagnosed with a rare autoimmune condition. She was 15 at the time, bedridden and in need of round-the-clock care. It would take 10 years before she had the strength and confidence to return to sport.

“All I remember was that the pain was so bad,” she remembers. “People would ask me how I felt about not being able to run, and I didn’t care. I just cared about getting through the day. I couldn’t go to school. I couldn’t do anything. I remember just feeling fear, and feeling like I wanted to give up. I didn’t care about anything, and I thought it would never get better for me.”

Through posts on her Instagram page, Ruggins’s crew gave updates on her JOGLEJOG progress. The plan was to stop every four hours, but only for 10 minutes. Each day’s nutrition involved taking on 11,000 calories, served in Huel shakes, cream cheese bagels, and porridge laced with double cream and peanut butter.

Everything started swimmingly. Ruggins reached Land’s End – the midway point – on a high, clocking the fourth fastest one-way time. She allowed herself 30 seconds for the turnaround, and before she knew it, she was riding back through Bristol, where hundreds of fans cheered her on.

Then the sleep deprivation began to set in. In the hours that followed, the Instagram updates shifted in tone, telling of “cracks” starting to show and lapses in lucidity. Some posts voiced concerns for her physical health.

“For the crew who had never seen anyone in a heavily sleep deprived state, it was quite startling to see,” Ruggins says.

At one point on day four, the 37-year-old collapsed on her bike. Fortunately, one of her crew members had anticipated the fall, and ran out of the van to catch her before she hit the floor. “I’ve been told this – I don’t remember it,” she now laughs. “I started swerving like a young child who’s just off their training wheels, and I was slowing down quite significantly.

“That accumulated sleep deprivation shows up in your body mentally through confusion. I forgot why I was riding a bike. I forgot where I was. I needed my crew in my ear, in comms, basically reassuring me that everything was fine.”

At the same time, though, the bouts of confusion left Ruggins in a “semi-meditative state”, something she found “quite peaceful, actually”.

Returning to John o’ Groats, five and a half days after she left, Ruggins became a Guinness World Record holder. Under the weight of the exhaustion, she folded her body against the signpost, and sat on the grass.

“I just started sobbing, and I couldn’t stop for quite some time,” she says. “I think it was just that release that I did exactly what I said I was going to do.”

Her new record took almost seven hours off the previous benchmark, held by James MacDonald since 2017. It was a feat of will and determination, a “ long bike ride”, in Ruggins’s words, by a woman who was told she might never walk again, and who only took up cycling two and a half years ago.

What’s the lasting message she wants people to take away from her achievement? There's no pause as Ruggins launches into her answer. “You can accomplish anything if you’re surrounded by the right people, and if you talk to yourself the right way,” she says assuredly. “If I could do it, other people can do it.”

Ruggins is collecting donations for two charities: The Bike Project and Bikes For Refugees. At the time of writing, she has raised more than £17,500. Donations can be made through her GiveWheel page.

By 2004, the year he became U23 time trial world champion, a serious problem had set in: he had become addicted to cycling.

"I started with no knowledge of cycling, aged 17, and as a junior would ride 1,200km a week with only one day off." Along with the compulsive training came compulsive control of his eating.

"There were parts of my life that I didn't like and didn't have control over," says Brajkovič. "Riding my bike and eating copious amounts of food felt liberating. But it was a vicious circle: eat, purge, then binge again."

Bulimia, the cycle of bingeing and purging, had a vice-like grip on him. A studious young man, Brajkovič wasn't naive to the effect of his lifestyle.

"I read and analyse a lot, and I knew what I was doing was a plan for destruction," the Slovenian says, "but I wasn't strong enough to seek help. I was very introverted, and when you have an eating disorder your self-respect and self-confidence are below zero."

It didn't matter that he'd had a top ten finish at the Tour de France, or rode for some of the biggest teams - Discovery Channel, RadioShack and Astana - as a pro cyclist, he always felt alone, unsupported and in a downward spiral.

But now, more than two decades on, he's come through the other side and is determined to help others. "I knew other people with similar problems who couldn't find the answers, so I wanted to help them." At every step along the way, whatever team he was on, Brajkovič's habit of excessive training rarely changed.

"Even in years with little racing, I'd ride more than 40,000km." Before the arrival of Primož Roglič and Tadej Pogačar, he was Slovenia's best rider on the world cycling stage.

Two-hundred-kilometre solo rides were the norm for him. "In the morning, I'd have a breakfast of 3,000-4,000 calories, and I'd feel great because the dopamine was so high," he remembers.

"But when I was done, the sensation of guilt would come, and only when I purged would I feel liberated. From the outside, you think: it's simple, don't eat, don't throw up. But it's like being a drug addict who needs their fix. The only period in the day when I wouldn't binge and purge was when I was riding my bike."

Brajkovič estimates that "on each team I raced on, 10-15% of riders struggled [with disordered eating]." Only occasionally could he wrest back control from his demons.

"The longest I was able to properly manage my food was 60 days," he says. These brief periods of control saw some of his best results, including winning the 2010 Critérium du Dauphiné and finishing ninth at the 2012 Tour de France.

Cycling has been criticised for not adequately addressing the issue of eating disorders, but Brajkovič points out that affected riders deliberately conceal the problem. "With bulimia, you slowly distance yourself from other people, as that allows you to do whatever you want. I'd do training camps by myself so no one could see me. Only one person, a team doctor in 2013, ever suspected I had a problem."

Brajkovič was fully conscious of the harm he was causing himself. He concluded that he had an addictive temperament - and feared what might have happened if he had not become a cyclist. "Alcohol abuse was prevalent in my family and I hated it," he says, "but I'm 100% sure I would have abused hard drugs." What makes him so sure? "Cycling allowed me not to feel those negative emotions.

Drugs do the same; they numb you." Cycling may be a safer addiction than class-A drugs - but Brajkovič was convinced the binge-purge cycle was slowly killing him. "After my contract [with Bahrain Merida] wasn't renewed in 2017, I lost hope that I'd ever fix my food issues, and I knew that people died from bulimia. I thought that was my destiny."

In 2019, while riding for Continental team Adria Mobil, Brajkovič's private fight took a dark turn: he was notified by the UCI that he had returned a positive test for banned substance methylhexaneamine, a stimulant marketed as a fat-loss supplement. Brajkovič claims he had unwittingly consumed the substance in a meal replacement powder and that only a trace amount was detected - though he accepts full responsibility.

During the proceedings, UCI officials accidentally copied him into an internal email chain in which, he claims, they were mocking him - though he refuses to specify the exact wording. The effect was profound. "If I hadn't had kids, I'd have committed suicide, 100%. I thought everything I had was being taken away from me, and there was no reason for me to live." He was banned for 10 months, but didn't return to competition at a Continental level until the summer of 2022.

Shortly afterwards, Brajkovič penned a blog revealing his struggles with bulimia. "With the ban, it really hit me: I thought, if I continue like this, I'll die from bulimia. I thought of my wife and three kids - what was I going to do?" He began to suspect he had harmed his health irreversibly. "Do this for six months, and you do some damage but it can be fixed. Do it for 17 years and there's a depletion of minerals in the body, chance of heart problems, and of course mental problems. I've done a lot of damage to my body."

Acting on a recommendation, in 2020 Brajkovič met Aleš Ernst, the creator of the AEQ Method, a physical and mental therapy purporting to resolve chronic pain. The near-three-hour meeting changed his life. "He explained how for my whole life I had been ignoring and suppressing problems and emotions." The AEQ method is a psychosomatic process that aims to get at the root cause of deeply ingrained problems, unblocking repressed emotions to release tensions.

"I was raised in a household where, if there was a problem, everything went silent," Brajkovič remembers. "My learned solution was riding my bike - by blowing off steam, I would feel better. I was essentially abusing exercise rather than addressing the problems."

After just one AEQ method session, Brajkovič felt hope - at last. He regained control of his eating and his cycling. He became such a firm believer in the method's guided breathing and sensory awareness exercises that, within a year of therapy, he decided to become an AEQ teacher.

Since then, Brajkovič has created his own business, coining the "JB method", based on the AEQ method but adapted for athletes. He now assists a number of sportspeople, including some professional cyclists. "There is incredible potential in this method, but it won't happen quickly for everyone - it takes time. There will be painful realisations, but embrace it like I did, and it can change everything."

As he reflects on his extraordinary journey over the past two decades, during so much of which he was hiding a dark secret, Brajkovič now strives to assure others that there is always hope, always a solution. "If problems aren't addressed as soon as they happen, they pile up," he says. "The most important thing is having self-awareness - anyone who has that can overcome their problems."

A friend's view: He's a new man

Stewart Alan Howison, owner of Revolution Cycles Dubai, has been friends with Brajkovič for 15 years I first met Jani in 2010 when he was riding for RadioShack. He'd flown to Dubai to prepare for the Tour de France unaware it'd be 45°C so I loaned him a turbo trainer.

From there, we developed a friendship that has lasted to this day. As I got to know Jani, he seemed very introverted, someone who kept himself to him himself, as if his only goal in life was to ride his bike.

I knew he had a very restrictive diet, but I assumed that was the norm for elite cyclists. We had a conversation one night in my lounge over whisky: he told me everything - how he had starved his body, fuelling on cola alone. His transformation since then has been night-and-day.

He is a totally different person now, and we have long, deep conversations about everything. Ten years ago, he wasn't able to speak in front of people, but now he holds and inspires a room. He's a hive of knowledge that for years was all kept in a vault; now he just wants to share what he knows and his passion. He has a new zest for life.

If you've been affected by issues raised in this article, you can call (UK) Samaritans on 116 123; Mind on 0300 102 1234; the National Suicide Prevention Helpline on 0800 689 5652, or the Beat eating disorder helpline on 0808 801 0677

Technically, this year's Vuelta Femenina wasn't my daughter's first rodeo; she actually attended the Tour de France in 2014 when it came to Yorkshire. Although if you're quick with math, you've probably already figured she was just a couple of months old and spent the whole time asleep or feeding in a sling.

This time around, however, on the eve of her eleventh birthday, she was wide-eyed at the spectacle, absorbing every moment of the race and the carnival surrounding it.

She's seen a lot of bike racing on TV and has even started to dabble herself, so she's well-versed in the main event, but being so up close and personal gave her (and me) a whole new perspective, reminding me why attending your first Grand Tour is so special.

Questions my 10 year old asked

The game changing question she didn't ask

Only after we arrived home from our Grand Tour mini-break did I realise there was one question my daughter had failed to ask the entire time we were at the Vuelta Feminina.

Not once did she ask for her tablet (we'd left it at home) or to play a game on one of her parents' phones.

I'm not sharing this to appear smug; rather, I recognise how difficult it can be for a nearly 11-year-old child to spend four days with just her parents in a non-English-speaking city, even without owning a smartphone herself, and with minimal access to computer games.

Coming home with the desire to become a professional rider, the urge to travel again, and the wish to watch more live racing, especially women's racing, without missing any electronics, is a game changer - and that must surely be the biggest win of the race.

For this I blame Jean Francois Bernard, a cyclist who in the late 1980s - along with Laurent Fignon - had a fair go at replacing Bernard Hinault as the darling of French cycling. I can still recall his Mont Ventoux time trial at the Tour de France in 1987 – a race against the clock he won in searing heat with spectators half a dozen deep urging him to the summit.

Fortunately we had our own Mont Ventoux just down the end of the road. It was at least 100 metres long and the gradient maxed out at a heady 1.8%, but for us it was equal in stature to the Giant of Provence, handily tucked away in a leafy corner of Surrey.

My brother on his Dawes, my neighbours on their Raleigh Burner and Peugeot City Express, we all had designs on becoming the next Sean Yates or Malcolm Elliott - and given the speeds we thundered up this incline a career in pro cycling surely beckoned.

*Record scratch*.....

20 years on the booze

Then my 12th birthday rolled around, and as is customary for a pubescent chap, I seamlessly morphed into a spotty, snarling oik, who couldn’t careless about cycling, or anything other than staying in bed with the curtains drawn feeling perpetually pissed off.

Cycling? Who cared about cycling. It was a daft sport anyway. And look at the clothing they wear. You’d have to be some sort of weirdo to knock about in those threads. I was despondent, bored, angry, and listening to Nirvana at full volume.

And so began a 20-year period during which I became heavily embroiled in the cigarette and alcohol scene. Yes, a dogged campaign to rid myself of as many brain cells as possible was embarked upon, perhaps while invoking a little cardio respiratory disease to boot. You know, just to add the finishing touches to my die-as-young-as-humanly-possible project.

I alighted from my twenties in woeful shape - my stomach had its own time zone and I was in possession of a pair of lungs that were as useful as boobs on a boar. Operation death was moving along swiftly.

Operation 'get fit'

Then my children arrived and it was a bit like waking from a two-decade long fever dream. For the first time since those halcyon days on our own private Mont Ventoux, I was struck by clarity of thought. I looked at my newborns and decided the best way to approach the future was to not be dead. Operation fitness began.

While I had been enjoying my extended sabbatical from reality, James, my brother, had continued cycling, having negotiated his teenage years in a slightly less idiotic fashion.

I knocked on his door, cap in hand, and asked if I could borrow one of his myriad bicycles. After assuring him I wasn’t going to sell it, he wheeled out a Gary Fisher mountain bike and off I rode. And rode and rode and rode.

Things got very Forest Gump - I could not stop riding that bike. I wasn’t going fast, not by any stretch, but I was riding it consistently and I was riding it far. My legs, even on the merest suggestion of a rise in the road, quivered under the pressure – I had no real leg muscle to call upon – and my lungs were still reeling from the gargantuan walloping they’d received by Messrs Benson and Hedges. Yet, I kept riding. I found it hugely therapeutic, incomparably satisfying

A few months after I began cycling, my wife took the children to see her family, meaning I had a week or so to really break in the Genesis cyclo-cross bike I’d recently bought.

I decided to use this opportunity to ride from Land’s End to John o’ Groats… in a pair of trainers and a tracksuit. A few months on from this I rode from the bottom of France to the top, along the mostly flat Avenue Vert.

The seed had officially been sown. My love of riding a bike had been rekindled. I rode without purpose – purely for the love of it – for the following few years. I never really considered my level of physical fitness, this was for my mental health only.

Next however, followed a sequence of events that conspired to make me not only the fittest I’d ever been, but, from an objective point of view, in a pretty high percentile of nationwide fitness levels. Bear with me, I shall explain.

Watt's up

My daughters were around five and six years old at this stage and my wife had gone back to work, meaning daddy day care was front and centre. No long distance cycling sojourns for me then.

But it wasn’t long before I came across what I now consider a sacred pairing – namely, the Wattbike Atom and Zwift. Getting my indoor set-up nailed allowed me to ‘look after the kids’ and ride at the same time, it was perfect. Training with power, though, introduced a level of competition - not necessarily with other people, but as a number to try and beat.

Of course I’d take note of average speeds during outings on the road, but there’s a host of factors at play that make this a highly subjective barometer of how well you're going. Watts however are watts. A pure measure that, on a smart bike, is down to you and you alone. They became a fixation.

To date I have cycled 32,000km on Zwift via races and interval sessions and the all-important power reading at the top of the screen has kept rising. I’m now breathing some pretty rare air, with a 400 plus watt FTP.

It's never too late

For a feature I’ve been researching for the magazine I recently had to undergo a series of fitness tests, ascertaining lung function, VO2 max, bone density and body fat percentages. Had I done this 18 years ago I would’ve been told to go straight to A&E, don’t pass go - you’re falling apart, mate. Seek immediate help.

Now however, the physician was able to reveal a much rosier picture. My bone density was as it should be for a 48 year old and my body fat was 17%. So far, so normal. It was only when I’d pushed myself to the point of absolute exhaustion during the Vo2 Max test that the full extent of my fitness regime was unearthed.

A relative VO2 Max of 60 was recorded with an absolute VO2 Max of 5.2 ml/min - the former putting me in the superior category for my age group with the latter bordering on elite.

Far from trying to blow smoke up my own backside here - although if I don’t do it, nobody else will– this heavily potted version of my road back to a fairly well functioning member of society pays testament to the resilience of the human body.

Regardless of your current situation, whether you’re obese, suffering with ill health or injury or indeed battling a substance addiction, I suspect it’s very rarely too late to flip your lifestyle and take control of your destiny again no matter what your age is. After all, age really is just a number and becoming the best possible version of yourself is just a couple of habit changes away.

Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got a date with Mont Ventoux… not the real one of course, there’s another one at the end of my road. And you’re never too old to pretend to be Jean Franccois Bernard.

Among those supporting him through troubled times is Lance Armstrong, who is funding rehab for the former cyclist.

During a press event, organised by the French kit brand Ekoï, at a west London hotel last week, Wiggins explained that the still unresolved 'jiffy-gate' scandal only added to his inner anguish after calling time on his career and still affects him.

The controversy came about after an investigation into whether a package allegedly received by former Team Sky doctor Richard Freeman for Wiggins at the Critérium du Dauphiné in 2011 contained a legal decongestant, or a banned drug.

The subsequent 14-month inquiry brought few answers but left questions for all involved; including the team's then principal, Sir Dave Brailsford, who Wiggins has not heard from since he retired.

"I would love to know one way or another what actually happened," he said. "The whole story was that it was delivered to me [personally]. I was on the podium at the end of the Dauphiné, and it was made to sound like I got delivered a package."

"'Can you sign for this!'" Wiggins jokes. "But of course it was never really like that. The amount of times I then got asked 'what was in the package?' But I had absolutely no idea. F*ck knows."

A British Department for Culture Media and Sport investigation into the ethics of Team Sky's working practices followed, but the contents of the package remain unclear. Sir Dave Brailsford stated the package contained the decongestant Fluimucil which is not a banned substance. But the lack of paperwork to support this cast doubt over the claim and the team's use of Theraputic Use Exemption (TUE) forms had cast further doubt over their ethical approach to medication.

Wiggins feels that the lack of clarity from those who he says should have had the answers to the situation caused unimaginable stress for his family - including his wife at the time, Cath - and said that he felt let down by those closest to him at that point. Wiggins explained that the cut throat environment at Sky meant that those in power didn’t take accountability for their part in the debacle.

In 2023, Freeman received a four-year ban for his role in ordering banned testosterone patches that were delivered to his office at British Cycling's Manchester HQ in 2011.

Wiggins has recently finished writing a third autobiography, The Chain, which he says will cover the topic in more detail and the impact it had on him personally. "After cycling, when all that was over, it looks at what I was really going through and what I was facing."

Post-retirement, Wiggins revealed in 2022 that he had been groomed and allegedly sexually abused by his coach when he was just 13-years-old. Now, he said that dealing with the inner torment caused by the abuse throughout his career and into retirement meant that he put himself in some "very dangerous" situations, admitting that his children feared it would cost him his life after he became addicted to cocaine.

He is now 12 months sober and attends regular therapy sessions, and revealed in December that he had received an offer from Lance Armstrong to pay for his treatment in the United States, a proposal he has now accepted.

"I was doing shit loads of cocaine," he said. "I had a real problem and my kids were actually going to put me in rehab at one point, I’ve never spoken about that. I really was walking a tightrope. There were times when my son was worried I was going to end up dead in the morning. I was a functioning addict, there was no middle ground for me, I couldn’t ever have a glass of wine, as if I did, then I was buying drugs.

"My addiction was a way of easing that pain that I lived with… I'm still figuring a lot of this out but what I have got is a lot more control of myself and my triggers, I'm a lot more at peace with myself now which is a really big thing… They [Armstrong and entourage] were quite worried about me for a long time, they’d been through a similar thing with Jan [Ullrich] as well."

Recapturing a love for cycling

In an interview with Cycling Weekly last June, Wiggins said that he felt there should be a better welfare system in place for those leaving the sport. When asked about the support mechanisms in place for ex-riders again, he suggested that more could potentially be done but that it is "hard to say" what exactly that should be, explaining that he is in contact with British Cycling CEO Jon Dutton, who recently reached out to him to offer further support.

"My whole life really was there [British Cycling]," he explained. "You're under lock and key and you're not advised to go anywhere else if you've got an issue with something because of strict liability. Everything was always done for you, we had Steve Peters there too, nobody ever said anything like 'look, forget Steve Peters, forget getting a performance out of you through psychology and all of that, you're probably going to need some help' but I don’t know if that was someone else's responsibility or ours."

Moving forwards, despite admitting that he had previously felt that cycling had "taken everything away" from him, Wiggins said that he now feels there is a light at the end of the tunnel. He has learned to recapture his passion for the sport again, both personally and professionally, and recently collaborated on a new collection with Ekoï. His son, Ben, rides for elite development team Hagens Berman Jayco, and his father supports his career choice.

"I've accepted in the last 12 months that however much I try and push it away, I am a cyclist, it is my life and it will always be part of my life," Wiggins said. "I think I was causing myself more pain by trying to push it away. Every time someone sees me they go, 'oh, you're that cyclist' so it's just never going to leave me, ever."

"I hadn’t had a bike for several years and then I got a bike again and I just forgot how much I love being out on it," Wiggins continued. "Whenever I get on my bike, it reminds me of being 13 years old and how unhappy I was at 13, but my escapism was being on my bike. It's sort of given me that same feeling again now. I've always viewed it from the negative side with what came with my career, and what happened at the end of my career, whereas now I'm seeing it for what it is… Ultimately it's where I get the most pleasure, it's my sanctuary."

"It was like one of those mirages that you see in old cowboy films," says Keith Lambert, former U23 head coach at British Cycling. Speaking to me from his North Yorkshire home, he is recalling the moment, circa 2009, when he first laid eyes on the Yates twins in a bike race. As a seasoned coach, Lambert had seen plenty of fledgling talents and usually knew within a few pedal strokes who was going to make it. On the Friday evening in question, he had driven to Colne, Lancashire, to watch a local youth criterium – and initially worried he was seeing double.

"These two riders were going round in the same kit, on the same bikes, they were the same size, everything. They just rode away from everybody that day and were far ahead of the competition, even then. I remember they ended up first and second after lapping the field a few times."

It would be years before Adam and Simon Yates regularly competed in different kits, allowing fans and commentators to easily tell them apart. In their early years, the twins were almost inseparable – aside from a brief spell after Simon joined the British Cycling Academy while Adam, backed by the Dave Rayner Foundation, raced on the road in France. Now, 11 years after turning professional together with Orica-GreenEdge (now Jayco-Alula) and spending several seasons as teammates, the boys from Bury are once again racing for different teams. This May, they will both line up at the Giro d’Italia – a race Simon nearly won in 2018.

Despite their shared DNA and parallel rise to the top of the sport, Adam and Simon, now aged 32, have carved out subtly different paths. Understanding their differences in personality and temperament isn’t easy, not least because both shy away from the limelight. My interview requests – to UAE Emirates-XRG for Adam, and to Visma-Lease a Bike for Simon – were both eventually declined. This was reluctance on the brothers’ part, I suspect, rather than stonewalling from their teams. The Yates brothers may not want to comment on it, but the divergence in their career paths is now more fascinating now than ever. And if they wouldn’t talk to us, we’d just have to ask the people who know them best.

Weetabix eating contests and Call of Duty sessions

We begin with former Conti-level pro, 31-year-old Chris Latham, a childhood friend of the brothers, who joins our scheduled Zoom call grinning mischievously. "I've just texted them both now," he says in a broad Lancashire accent. "I've told them I want at least 10 grand off the pair of them for not chucking them under the bus in this," he says, bursting into laughter, clearly relishing the opportunity to talk candidly about two of his closest mates.

"They've always been tight and got on well. I remember they shared a room as kids and just smashed Call of Duty, Haribo and Lucozade all the time." Latham frequently visited the Yateses. "I lived in Bolton, only 10 miles away from them in Bury," he says. "I'd ride over to their place, go on a ride with them, and after getting battered by their dad on our bikes, we'd play Call of Duty for hours. It was quality, growing up together."

What about sibling rivalry as cycling began to replace video games – were the twins as serious back then as they often appear in interviews now? I begin to recount how James Knox once told Cycling Weekly that the Yates brothers were "hilarious" and had him "howling at the dinner table" during pre-Tokyo Olympics training in 2020, when Latham interrupts: "Oh mate, they were always chucking banter about," he says, cracking up again – supporting Knox's characterisation of the pair. "They'd compete against each other anyway, just for a laugh – whether it was how many Weetabix they could eat, or racing their bikes at the weekend. There's always a good laugh wherever those two are."

Admitting that it’s hard to imagine the Yateses as party animals, I ask Latham to provide an example. He bursts out laughing again. "They love red wine, as they think they're posh now," he jokes, "but the thing is, we used to go down to Sainsbury's most nights as kids and get a bottle of wine for a fiver – but now it's the fine wine menu with them." He recounts a recent night out and his horror as the brothers began perusing expensive bottles on the wine list. "I told them to get a grip, behave and get something cheaper."

Now that Latham had confirmed that the Yates brothers certainly don’t deserve their staid, serious image, it was time to talk about the origins of their competitive drive in more detail. After a few email exchanges with members of Bury Clarion – the brothers’ first club – I boarded a train bound for Manchester. How had the twins stayed so close despite competing for rival teams? Has this ever led to tensions? I wanted to better understand two of the most underappreciated men in the sport.

My first stop is lunch in Bury with Nick Hall, a longstanding family friend of the Yates family. "I first met Simon and Adam out on a ride," Hall recalls, pausing to sip his tea. "There were probably only half a dozen of us, and they must have only been about 12 or 13." I ask if that was unusual – kids so young joining a Saturday club run with their dad and his mates?

"Well yes, my first reaction was 'what are these two kids doing coming out with us older blokes?'" he says. "But then you got to a hill and they started racing off up it, leaving us all thinking, 'hang on, what the hell are we doing out with them?' It was obvious they were very good." Hall remembers Adam and Simon being naturally competitive, though always in a good-natured way. Even back then, their ambitions were crystal clear. "I remember talking to them on another early ride. Most local kids would say 'I want to play for Man United,' but with Simon and Adam it was always professional cycling. They told me they wanted to be cyclists and ride the Tour de France."

After lunch, Hall offers me a lift to the nearest tram stop and we continue our conversation on the way. He points out several local landmarks, including the street that the Yates family still calls home. I had hoped to speak with the twins' parents, John and Sue – having had a pleasant chat with them during a chance encounter at the 2023 Tour de France – but Hall tells me they prefer to avoid media interactions. It’s nothing personal, he assures me. "I think Sue would probably do more interviews, but it's just not John’s cup of tea," he explains. Do they fear being misquoted? "Not really," says Hall. “They’re just very private people."

Working in close proximity with a sibling is liable to cause friction, so I ask Hall if he remembers hearing any instances of Simon and Adam clashing as their careers were taking off. With a laugh, he insists that these two siblings really are as close as they seem. "They have just always understood each other, and they have fairly similar personalities," he says. "They're both very cool and laid-back, and that's genuinely how they’ve always been." Not even teenage squabbles on the club run? "No, not at all," he says.

Listening to Hall, it's becoming clear that the twins, in their younger days, really were as Chris Latham described them. I remember speaking to Simon in Canada last September: he had told me he didn't want to finalise the details of his transfer to Visma until he'd had a chance to talk through the details with his "best mate", Adam. "We always discuss everything together," he said.

Face value

A picture is emerging of two siblings who really are as close as they seem. Hall describes the humble, cohesive family unit that kept them grounded, the "two up, two down" house, and the "down-to-earth" parents. Did this background ensure they would remain modest and unassuming? "I think it all comes from John and Sue and their manner," he says. "It's just how the boys have always been brought up – they all know each other inside-out and are very close as a family."

I steer the conversation back to cycling. Simon's Vuelta win in 2018 automatically placed him among cycling's greats – while Adam's best Grand Tour result is third in the 2023 Tour de France. Hall insists that this has never provoked any jealousy or tension, reiterating a point also made by Keith Lambert: through good and bad times, the brothers have always had each other's backs. As an example, he tells me that Adam fiercely defended his twin in 2016 after Simon tested positive for the asthma drug Terbutaline (the team blamed an "administrative error").

The twins have now spent several years on rival teams, and who can forget their dramatic one-two finish on the opening day of the 2023 Tour de France. Latham, Hall and Lambert all draw attention to that moment, recalling having their hearts in their mouths. But it wasn't the first time they had gone one-two in a major bike race. Back in 2013, the brothers finished first and second on a key mountain stage in the Tour de l’Avenir, with Simon taking the win.

In my conversation with Latham, I hypothesised that it could happen again this May – would Adam attack even if the overall lead were at stake for Simon? There will be no favours given, insists Latham. "When it comes to cycling, they are absolutely zoned-in," he says. "It's as simple as that, they don’t fuck about. They're absolute best mates, but they'd always let their legs decide in any race scenario. They're proper bike racers in that sense – that's just who they are and always will be."

It has the ring of your favourite ice cream parlour, rather than the sort of workout that might leave you aching and exhausted. Very different to the clinical 'VO2 max intervals', or the alarming 'back to back over/unders' or, perhaps worst of all, '20 minutes max power test'. (I'll make my excuses now, if you don't mind).

However, that is the beauty of sweet spot – or SST, to which it's often abbreviated – done right, it doesn't actually feel that awful and, theoretically, you can get up the following day and do it again.

It's widely touted as the best bang-for-buck workout you can do, racking up the TSS (training stress score) like little else. Does that mean it piles on your real-world riding form in the same way? No, is the short answer to that, says coach Andy Turner of ATP Performance Cycle Coaching.

He says: "For those who chase fitness scores and the build-up of TSS [on virtual riding platforms, for example], it's effective at doing that, but that doesn't necessarily mean it's effective at making you actually physiologically faster."

Defined by Frank Overton and developed with Dr Andy Coggan, sweet spot has become an extremely popular way to pass the time, particularly on the indoor trainer, where blocks of 10 minutes upwards form the bedrock of numerous training plans set by platforms such as TrainerRoad and Zwift.

Measured as a percentage of functional threshold power (FTP), there are numerous definitions of sweet spot but, according to the Fascat Coaching website – run by Overton himself – it falls between 84% and 97% of FTP.

Turner elaborates: "It's the sort of upper end of higher intensity that you can sustain for longer durations – it's that principle of getting as much work done in a shorter period of time. So you can do an hour of sweet spot comfortably, but an hour of threshold is incredibly uncomfortable, even if there's maybe only 20 watts difference between those two numbers."

Part of the attraction of sweet spot training, Turner says, is psychological. It can quickly start to feel easier, and wattage gains at sweet spot intensity can also ramp up, especially at first.

"It's a bit like your classic tempo smash sesh with your mates," he says – "where you just try and do as high an average speed for 90 minutes as possible. It's not very good training for getting fitter, but you can see that that session is now easier."

However, the mid-range intensity level of sweet spot means missing out on the key gains in mitochondrial density and capillarisation that low-intensity riding offers, as well as the boost to raw power and other aerobic fitness benefits induced by training at higher intensities like VO2 max. These are all key, and are essentially what aerobic fitness is built on.

No magic bullets

"I think that there is a place for it, but it's limited in its application," says Turner. "Everyone likes one magic bullet to solve all of their problems, whatever it is. In reality, it's always a mix of things for the individual and their goals.

"Sweet spot can be useful, but then once you've been doing it for a while, you need to change the training stimulus and implement something new. And that's where polarised training starts to become where you see more of the gains."

Turner says he regularly has clients come to him with the same sweet-spot-related issue: "They just say, "I've hit a training plateau, I just can't go any harder; or, on group rides I'm strong on the flats, but then we get to these short, sharp, punchy climbs, and I just can't go any harder. That's quite a common occurrence, and what needs to change is the training stimulus."

Polarised training isn't a new term by any means, and the concept itself is an approach that has been taken by performance cyclists for decades – essentially, it involves mixing low-intensity riding with high-intensity riding, and little in-between.

An example could be a weekly diet of five to 10 hours of riding in zones one and two – your 'all-day' pace – ideally with one of those rides pushed out to four hours or so (or as long as your calendar will let you), with one or two high-intensity interval sessions thrown in. The classic VO2max sessions uses work intervals of three to five minutes (usually the longest you can sustain this intensity for), with at least equal rest intervals.

It doesn't sound very cosy – not like sweet spot. And it doesn't feel it either: "VO2max, frankly, are really unpleasant sessions to do," says Turner, adding that you need to be well rested to do them right.

This is where we swing back around to sweet spot. There's no 'getting in the zone' or sick buckets required, it helps us stay acquainted with the somewhat harder effort levels, and it's easy to recover from.

As such, it's an intensity unlikely to be going anywhere soon. But you see that basket marked SST? Perhaps don't put all your eggs in it. Spread them around a bit and see the benefits.

As ever, if you are new to hard training, or returning to cycling after a long layoff, do err on the side of caution and get clearance from your doctor.

It's not just Olympians who, after years of having a clear reason to get up in the morning, find themselves dejectedly hitting the snooze button. "Whenever someone's sense of identity, confidence and personal power is dependent on their success in a sport, the transition away from it can be tough," says sports psychologist Peter Hudson.

"Even at an amateur level, the quest for fitness and PBs and the team camaraderie can become a major part of one's waking hours. Retiring from all that can be very challenging." Kenny compares his experience of quitting cycling to that of a teenager heading off to university. "At 17 or 18, these kids leave home and try to figure out their place in the world.

But in sport I'd never had to do that. My place in the world had been dictated, from an early age, by my place on the squad and my finishing performance. I didn't start working out my place in the world [beyond cycling] until I was 33."

Kenny's words may help others from that 2012 Olympics golden generation, such as Geraint Thomas, who is due to retire at the end of this year. "There's an initial fear when you quit," adds Kenny. "Even if you're moving to a great job, it's a massive life decision as your whole world's been based around riding a bike."

He explains that, while his stepping away from competition has been relatively smooth, having taken on a sprint coach role with British Cycling, some of his peers have struggled to adapt to life after pro cycling.

Traumatic transition

Psychologist Hudson outlines why the change in lifestyle can be difficult. "The way that the pro peloton works these days - the sponsorship, number of races and level that riders have to perform at - has made it a much more demanding sport.

When suddenly that comes to an end, it's like having the rug pulled from under your feet. You have all this unstructured time and the adjustment to that can be very, very difficult." That difficulty is reflected in the number of former athletes affected by mental health issues since quitting their chosen sport.

A 2023 study, published in the journal Advances in Psychiatry and Behavioural Health, found that up to 20% of athletes experience anxiety, depression and even post-traumatic stress disorder after leaving competitive sport.

"The sudden loss of routine and identity so closely associated with their sport is one thing. Money, or the lack of it, can make retirement from elite cycling especially tough," adds Hudson. Despite his incredible achievements in the saddle, Bradley Wiggins has famously struggled with that lost sense of identity and purpose, as well as financial problems, after leaving the sport.

He recently told the Telegraph: "Within three years of retiring in 2016, I was a drug addict." Wiggins's plight is not as unusual as you might think. "Research suggests that up to 50% of professional cyclists are in financial distress or face bankruptcy within five years of retirement," says Jamie Anderson, a professor of leadership and strategy who mentors former pro riders.

"It's tough, and many cyclists may not have the financial literacy necessary to manage their earnings wisely. A lack of guidance or mentorship during their careers compounds the problem." Anderson, who resides in Belgium, believes that a rider's family background, and what he calls the "bubble of sanity" surrounding them, can play a part in how they fare after they quit.

"I see a lot of the young riders here [in Belgium], from working-class backgrounds, who are spotted at 14 and from that point on they're never encouraged to think about life after cycling.

Their families don't always have the capabilities or the foresight to help with financial planning, either." Anderson believes that teams should provide more financial and educational support, and that former pros should be encouraged to become mentors.

For some riders, the decision to quit is taken out of their hands. "As a rider, you feel it coming," explains 38-year-old Belgian Ben Hermans, who announced his retirement in January after failing to secure a new contract with Cofidis. "Because I still loved to race my bike, I was always hoping to continue."

"But it was the first time in my 16-year career that I was ready to continue - and also ready to stop." Hermans believes his performances in the summer of 2024 had been good enough to merit a new contract. "But if you are getting to 38 years old and your team is not renewing your contract, you are in a very difficult situation." Duty of care?

Where a rider has had greater control over their decision to quit, the transition is often smoother, as Kenny's move from racing to coaching confirms. Athletes forced to retire through injury have higher rates of anxiety and depression when compared to the general population.

A number of ex-pros believe that cycling's administrators have a duty to ensure riders are better prepared for a life after competition but aren't facing up to that responsibility. Former Katusha-Alpecin pro Marcel Kittel is among those who have spoken out about the need to provide a smoother transition into retirement for elite riders. Former Irish road race champion Imogen Cotter quit cycling in April 2024 owing to the lingering psychological impact of a near-fatal collision with a van while training in Spain in 2022. She returned to the peloton after the crash, but struggled to rediscover her championship- winning form of 2021.

"I was hitting numbers better than my pre-crash levels," says the 31-year-old. "In many ways, it was the comeback I had only dreamed of - but racing had lost its importance to me. I'd be at races where people would stress over tiny details, and all I could think was, 'We could all die - why does this even matter?"

What does Cotter think makes quitting cycling so difficult for many riders? "A lot of cyclists attach a lot of their identity to the sport," she says. "Quitting is a really scary leap to take. At some professional outfits, they have a performance team around you to guide you with decisions like this.

Towards the end of my time with [Fenix Deceuninck] there was no performance team advising me as such; I was just doing everything on my own. I was left to make the leap with no real advice as to how I should do it." Cotter is thankful that, as a relative latecomer to the sport, having started at 24, she was better equipped for life post-cycling.

"My identity wasn't solely wrapped up in the sport - I'd also gone to university, worked full-time and lived outside of cycling before," she explains. "That said, I used to look at retired cyclists and imagine that it must be a bit miserable having nothing to work towards. But when it came to giving it up, I had no regrets.

I won the National Championships, and fought my way back after the crash - I'm proud of that. It just didn't fit my life anymore." As Kenny points out, while some organisations, including British Cycling, have support in place for cyclists looking to move on, much of the emphasis is on the rider to find their feet independently.

"We have a form of performance lifestyle support that links riders to various companies and universities when they want to get into other roles," says Kenny, "but it tends to be led by the rider. I think it should be a little bit more structured - and compulsory for development cyclists, so that they're more prepared to quit when the time comes." Amateurs not immune Struggling to adjust to life after competitive cycling isn't only a problem for pro riders.

"Amateurs can find themselves lost if they step away or are forced away from the structure, the training sessions and the unofficial support network of the cycling community," Hudson outlines the psychological hurdles. One rider who found himself in exactly this situation is 47-year-old American Josh Ross. "Stepping away from cycling did impact my mental health," he explains. "My social circle had become the cycling community. Not only the local races but also online, from Strava to following riders on social media."

The former amateur racer from North Dakota, USA, was prescribed cycling by his doctor in 2018 as a means of staying fit without putting too much impact on his injured knees. "After about two weeks, I was hooked. After three months of riding, I'd bought a trainer and followed a programme from Wahoo. By early May - just a few months after taking it up - I did my first real race."

Ross was just discovering the highs of competitive road and gravel cycling when Covid-19 hit. "I used the time to improve my nutrition, downloaded all the apps, tuned into podcasts and bought more bikes, including a new road machine with aero bars. Everything was about riding faster, and when the restrictions were lifted, I was showing up to all the local races in the five-state area."

Just as Ross was becoming more successful in his newfound passion, the flame began to flicker. "Race fees started to increase dramatically to cover insurance and prize money, and bike parts jumped in price.

I realised most of my discretionary spending was going toward cycling. Even our vacations were centred around races." Ross's cycling compulsion was affecting his health too. "My teeth began to form cavities, thanks in no small part to the carb solutions I'd drink on long rides.

And I was having back problems from spending hours in an aero position." His tall, 6ft 4in frame meant his weight was higher than he desired, even when fit and lean.

"I would 'peak' for a race and place high, but feel tired and unhealthy off the bike." The catalyst for Ross came when he started a new business venture. "I was training less regularly. I stopped hitting PBs, my motivation was crushed, the weight crept back on.

When I showed up to a local ride, another rider literally poked me in the gut and asked, 'What is that?" Eventually Ross decided to quit altogether - and now, despite the ribbing, misses his cycling network.

"The social interaction either ceased or, in the case of online, didn't make sense to continue-there was no reason to follow and chat about the latest research or marginal gains." The demands of Ross's growing business prevents him from dwelling on his former life as a competitive cyclist. "I need to find a hobby that helps scratch my competitive itch," he says. "It just has to be more flexible than the 12-week training plans and long-distance travel for my A races."

How to quit: A psychologists advice

Elisabetta Borgia is a sports psychologist who works with Lidl-Trek's men's and women's teams. This is her advice on giving up racing... Some retired riders feel an immediate sense of relief and excitement, often describing the transition as a honeymoon phase. They enjoy freedoms they previously didn't have, such as eating what they want or skipping training.

Others, however, realise only after retiring how fortunate they were in their professional careers, with privileges like sponsored travel and financial stability. Many choose to stay in the sport in some capacity, whether as a coach, DS or analyst, but others prefer to explore entirely new career paths.

There is no right or wrong choice - what matters is that each rider finds a path that suits them personally and professionally. Borgia's top tips for a seamless retirement: Prepare for the identity shift: Cycling isn't just a job; it's a way of life. Without the structure of training and racing, many riders struggle with self-perception. Start exploring who you are beyond the sport before you retire. Plan your next steps:

Don't wait until your final season to think about what's next. Whether it's coaching, sports directing, or an entirely new career, having a roadmap will make the transition smoother. Build a support network: The loss of team camaraderie can be tough. Stay connected with former riders, seek mentorship or talk to a sports psychologist. Develop new routines and goals: Create a daily routine, set new fitness or professional goals, and keep pushing yourself in new ways.

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Unlike many sporting events that keep you more than an arm's reach from the team, professional cycling can offer great opportunities to get up close and personal with the riders and, of course, their equipment.

Without the endless pools of money that their male counterparts seem to have, women's professional racing sometimes requires some unconventional thinking to make the most of the bike equipment they can access.

That's not to say that there isn't an awful lot of top-drawer tech on show, especially with Stage One's team time trial allowing a full display of the more unique and curious-looking kit in a bid to become the fastest team on the day and take the red jersey.

Here's our pick of the best high and low-tech kit used on and off the bike.

Going into this race as reigning champion, this was actually Demi Vollering first major tour with FDJ-SUEZ, having switched from TEAM SD WORX - PROTIME, this season.

Sporting race number one on her back, Vollering took to the Team Time Trial ramp equipped with a pair of bespoke Speeco TTX aero bars on her Specialized S-Works Shiv TT.

The brand caused some controversy a few seasons ago when the UCI disqualified Belgium's Jan-Willem van Schip at the Belgium Tour after donning a pair of the brand's super aero regular bars. The brand has clearly paid heed after that experience and confirms on its website that "The TTX is 100% UCI legal, there is written proof from the UCI that it is allowed in competition." Leaving us in no doubt that there was no infringement with Vollering's bars!

At the other end of the kit scale was the setup from an Eneicat rider–CMTeam is much more rudimentary. Without the budgets of the super team, the Spanish team had to adopt a more 'run-what-you-brung' approach to the team time trial of stage one. The whole team is still running a rim brake set-up. There was a mix of mechanical and digital shifting, as well as a mix of frames, wheels, and bars.

Cofidis Women rode the 796 Monoblade RS frameset equipped with the Super Record Wireless groupset, which curiously appears to have an external junction box/ battery mounted on the top cap of the stem.

Letizia Borghesi, EF Education Oatly, opted for the new TFE Team Edition Aero Extensions. Based on the TFE Pro bars, the Team Edition are still carbon, but use a bolt on system, and thankfully, for anyone wanting to buy a pair, they are around £3,000/ $3000 cheaper at retail.

Paying close attention to the latest science on speed and tyre width, Borghesi went with 30mm Vittoria Corsa Pro TLR Tube tyres on new 'Sliver Edition' of the Vision Metron 60SL wheels. Topping off the wheels is the neat Muc-off Tubeless Valves - V2 in the matching pink of the team colours.

Understandably for a highstakes team time trial, it was wall to wall aero helmets on display for the teams looking to set the fastest times on the day, here's our pick of the most unusal

Uno-X Mobility Sweet Protection Redeemer 2Vi Mips Helmet

Visma Lease a Bike Giro Aerohead ll

FDJ-SUEZ Specialized S-Works TT5

Liv AlUla Jayco test rode a yet to be launched, brand new time trial helmet. Obviously there's no details as yet, but we'll be keeping an eye on both Jayco AlUla teams for more outings. It's certainly standing out in the peloton for it's slimline and low-profile silhouette.

After the outlandish aero kit showcased during time trials, regular road bikes can appear somewhat mundane. However, Liv AlUla Jayco rose to the challenge of creating the best-looking bike in the peloton with a collection that mainly features Liv Langma bikes, all adorned with a stunning metallic paint job.

The grand tour also presented another opportunity for UAE TEAM ADQ to give the new radical-looking Colnago Y1Rs another run out. We first saw this under the team in February at the UAE Tour. Two months in and it's not the choice of the whole squad yet, but Irish pro Lara Gillespie has chosen it to be her trusty race steed for the week.

Aside from the bikes, the team zones also deliver a great show of tech innovation.

The mini Elite Avanti direct drive trainer was perfect for FDJ-SUEZ. The compact turbo was teamed with an Elite stand to provide a simple but effective warm-up station for Vollering and team mates.

We couldn't help but share this outlandish pit bike rig, a survivor Cannondale Hooligan from 2017, sharing a stable with the Cannondales of EF Education Oatly. And yes, that is a Lefty!

We spoke to Dan Guillemette, specialist cycling physiotherapist at Marylebone Health and head physiotherapist at Jayco Alula. Guillemette has overseen injury management Tour de France winners, and Olympic champions.

Should I choose ice or heat?

Yes, generally, ice should be used in the first 24-72 hours after a soft- tissue injury, when the aim is to minimise the effects of swelling and inflammation. It also provides some pain relief. The application of heat tends to be preferred for a chronic injury, or when the complaint is due to joint stiffness or a muscle spasm.

What physiological effects do ice and heat have on the body

The pain gate theory describes how ice and heat produce sensory stimulation that relieves pain by competing with its pathways in the nervous system. Essentially, when you experience pain - for example, banging your elbow - rubbing the area can reduce discomfort by sending competing signals to the brain. Similarly, applying ice or heat can provide pain relief by interfering with pain pathways. The effectiveness of each depends on when they are used after an injury.

How important is the timing?

Very. In the early stages, ice helps minimise swelling by numbing the site of injury and reducing blood flow by constricting the blood vessels. Ice is therefore widely used as an immediate treatment to stem the flow and provide short-term relief. It's also a more convenient immediate treatment. In the longer term, applying heat to an area is very effective for dealing with pain associated with chronic injuries, such as muscle spasm and joint stiffness, as it encourages blood flow and decreases muscle stiffness, promoting relaxation. It also reduces the pain signals associated with joint stiffness.

How long should each treatment be applied for?

In the first 24-72 hours after a soft-tissue injury, ice can be applied for 15-20 minutes maximum, repeated every couple of hours. ¹⁵ If you are using an ice pack, you should avoid direct contact with the skin, to avoid ice burn. ¹⁶ Heat should be applied twice or three times daily for 15-30 minutes. ¹⁷ You can use a heat pad or even just a simple hot water bottle but it is important to wrap it in a towel or something protective so that you do not burn the skin. ¹⁸ Heat should be avoided on acute swelling for 48-72 hours post-injury, when the aim is to reduce the amount of blood flow to the area and minimise swelling.

Is there good evidence for the effectiveness of heat and ice?

Both treatments can play an important role, though there is limited clinical evidence as to the long-term benefits of ice. ²¹ Though ice can be an effective immediate treatment and remains the go-to choice for an acute injury, the evidence is conflicting. ²² Thus, ice should be used sparingly and only for the short term. ²³ This is because it can blunt the signal sent by the natural inflammatory process that kickstarts tissue repair, thereby delaying the healing process. ²⁴

Are there any important precautions?

For those with open wounds, ill health, circulation issues or any nerve-related altered sensations, ice and heat may not be suitable. ²⁶ Also, individuals with underlying health and circulation issues, such as diabetes, Raynaud's disease or peripheral vascular conditions should take extra care, as impaired circulation can affect the body's ability to regulate temperature and heal properly.

Hot and cold treatment options

• Contrast therapy: Alternating between heat and ice can be an effective way of dealing with some chronic muscle injuries
• NSAIDs: Topical non-steroidal anti- inflammatories such as BioFreeze and Voltaren can help reduce inflammation and provide temporary pain relief.
• Gels and sprays: Options like Deep Freeze gel/spray or Physicool can help numb pain and reduce swelling.
• Heat patches & balms: Deep Heat Patches, Tiger Balm, and Voltarol heat patches can help relax stiff muscles and improve blood flow.
• Epsom salts & magnesium sprays: Soaking in an Epsom salt bath or using magnesium sprays may help ease muscle tension and cramping.
• Arnica creams & gels: Natural anti- inflammatory creams such as Arnica gels can support bruise healing and pain relief.

One of the most common mistakes in a situation like this, and one I have made many times, is to go straight into panic training thinking that hammering out long and hard rides would be the ticket to fitness. To keep my panic in check I enlisted the help of Paul Vousden from Mapdec Cycle Works to help with a plan, which started with a fitness test, “You need to know where you are right now so we know what we are working with” was Vousden’s ominous introduction.

One red-faced and vomit-inducing VO2max test later revealed that while my VO2max - the measurement of a person’s maximum rate of oxygen consumption during intense exercise - was still very good and I was delivering oxygen to my muscles, the muscles themselves weren’t using it efficiently and my power output was quite frankly minuscule.

“You’ve still got the raw material but we need to wake up your muscle fibres and get them working again,” was the conclusion. The prescription was to focus on just three sessions a week and make only one of them an interval workout with very short, but very intense efforts to help sharpen up and generate explosive power, the other two sessions were steady rides of 1-3 hours.

Shorter sessions as these HIIT workouts are a good choice when time is limited, they don’t take long to do and while they produce enough training stress for your body to adapt and get stronger they don’t leave you fatigued which was Paul’s key concern given that I only had six weeks to go from zero to hero with no space for injuries or illnesses. His other recommendation was to add some strength training in the gym to help fire up power-producing muscle fibres and add some all-body conditioning to help with balance and mobility in the saddle.

Being comfortable on the bike is key

One of the greatest challenges of the trip wouldn’t be fitness but a body not used to sitting in the saddle for many hours every day. Vicki Farrington at Strength2Speed, a gym for endurance athletes in Kendal put together a programme of simple but effective exercises using whole-body compound moves, like squats and bear crawls to work on flexibility, coordination and strength.

Farrington explained the benefits of compound movements, “you’ll get massive benefits from lifting weights in waking up muscle fibres but it is the small movements, improving control and coordination which will help most in terms of comfort on the bike, particularly off-road.” Part of riding off-road is being able to move around on the bike more dynamically and absorb bumps and impacts from the trail, these gym sessions certainly helped.

One of my favourites was to hold a weight in front of me and squat just low enough to touch the seat of a chair before standing up again. This simple move made a noticeable difference to the quad and glute strength when hovering out of the saddle over rutted or rooty sections.

Having accepted there was a limited amount that I could do to push the needle on my fitness I looked around for other ways to compensate. I chose to ride a 3T Racemax, designed to look and feel like an aero-road bike but with the clearance necessary for gravel tyres. Whilst there is the option of a single ring version I went double with SRAM Rival to maximise the spread of gears.

I certainly didn’t regret my choice as the route was littered with very steep climbs where the huge rear cassette made everything rideable, while still allowing a big enough gear to pedal the long descents and pick up as much speed as possible. The fit was absolutely spot-on for me, it tackled slower technical sections with agility, gripped through the fast, loose gravel roads and felt balanced at speed on some really rough, pot-holed descents.

I spoke to Matt Hart, founder of sports nutrition company Torq Fitness, who was also riding at the event for his tips on what I could do. “Sports nutrition is the biggest hack there is” he replied positively, going on to explain, “you can have a Ferrari with an enormous engine but half a fuel tank, and when the fuel runs out you have an amazing engine with amazing potential that’s not going anywhere."

"Or you can have a Citroen 2CV with a full fuel tank and a trailer full of fuel and it’s going to outperform the Ferrari.” Possibly not the most flattering comparison I’ve received but sound advice, “you may not have had a chance to tune your engine up but you can give yourself plenty of fuel.”

“Most people can manage 60g of carb an hour, though elite people can manage 90g or even 120g,” Hard explained, adding that all Torq products come in 30g servings to take the maths out of the equation.

With distances on some days of over 100km - which could mean six hours or more in the saddle - that equates to a lot of fuel, with the added challenge of it being a multi-day event, “you are eating today for tomorrow. If you keep fuelling all day, you not only feel good to the end of the day but feel good day after day”, Hard said.

Fuelling is only part of the equation when it comes to cycling in a tropical climate, “the heat and humidity have been interesting for me,” explained Hart, “you could tell on the first day that the sweat rate was going to be really high. Not only do you need to get your fuel in, you need to be really on top of hydration so my recommendation to people has been to drink your calories.

An isotonic energy drink is 30g of carb in 500ml so if you drink a litre of that an hour you don’t need to take on any additional energy.” All of this fuel required made the race hydration vest from Restrap invaluable, given I had no bottle on the down tube where it ran the risk of being splattered by muddy water or even elephant poo (yes really).

Putting it all into action

Sri Lanka is a truly special place to visit, despite being only 656sq kilometres the landscape is incredibly varied. Our route took us from sandy beaches to the cool, high-altitude tea plantations, through steamy rice fields and vast open plains.

The 400km of riding and nearly 7000m of climbing provided a huge return on the riding investment. Route designer Phil Evans from MTB-worldwide has a nose for gravel, linking together a vast network of trails that could be easily missed but always led to spectacular scenery and interesting, even if there were times when I longed for some buttery smooth tarmac instead.

The first full day of the trip was 75miles with 2500ft of climbing, I managed a moving time of 5.50 hours. The joy of riding somewhere new, in warm weather carried my through the first feed stations and timed section but the last 20km was a struggle. The gym conditioning may have helped my muscles but nothing but long hours in the saddle can condition how your backside feels.

Despite riding in Q36.5 adventure shoes, the most comfortable off-road shoes I have ever owned there were a few days when the heat, humidity and constant need to put pressure on the pedals meant that my feet became sore and swollen. At the same time, my backside which had become as soft as a baby’s bottom through months of sitting on nothing harder than an office chair was also protesting.

I couldn’t stand to take the pressure off my backside because my feet were in agony or sit to take the pressure off my feet. Thankfully as I literally ‘toughened up’ these problems were resolved.

One of the toughest days featured a 7-mile climb, the average gradient of 6% didn’t tell the full story as several pitches were well over 10% for long sections. I was thankful this came in the second part of the trip as by then I was a bit more mentally as well as physically able to cope with the discomfort of riding at my upper limit for a long time.

As the days progressed I was much more able to sustain my early morning freshness and speed to the end of the day. By the final day I was enjoying trying to hang in with faster moving riders and trying to hold my place in a pace line. Both body and brain had woken up and remembered what it felt like to ride bikes again!

The fitter you are going into an event the faster you recover and the more able you are to enjoy every moment to the full without compromise. During the evenings, we were treated with gin cocktails in a mango swamp, traditional dance performances on the beach and afternoon tea in a tea plantation.

I certainly didn’t want to miss out on post-ride beer, cool dips in the pool or the chance to explore somewhere new in favour of resting in my hotel room, however sensible that might have been. Adventurous trips such as Ride SriLankan are a careful balancing act of making the most of your time on and off the bike and that is another good reason to start training earlier next time.

It's never too early to start planning for next year

While I made Ride SriLankan far harder for myself than needed, it didn’t prevent me from enjoying (almost) every minute of the ride, except one particularly steep and stabby climb which drew a mouthful of expletives. Starting on 28^th February Ride SriLankan 2026 is a whole ten months away so you can start training now and not make any of my mistakes or excuses. Entries are not yet open but you can register your interest to hear about it first. Watch the video of the 2025 event.

Cycling longer distances generally translates to increased energy expenditure simply because more time is spent exercising. According to the American Council on Exercise, moderate cycling burns approximately 7 calories per minute for individuals weighing around 155 pounds (about 70 kg).

Consequently, a longer ride, even at a moderate pace, can accumulate substantial calories burned. But that's if you have the time available to do long rides. On the other hand, cycling faster increases caloric burn per minute because of higher intensity, but high-intensity exercise can be thigh and lung-burningly uncomfortable.

Then you have to consider the body burns different fuels at different intensities. At low intensity the body can fuel exercise by burning fat. Of which even the slimmest person has enough to keep them going for hours.

At higher intensities, the body needs fuel to be delivered to the muscles quicker, so it uses Glycogen, which is how carbohydrates are stored in your body. Without topping these up, most people have enough stored Glycogen to keep them going for one to two hours.

But despite the fact that slower riding burns fat, it's not so simple to say that's the best way to lose weight. In fact, this is a question that has had coaches and exercise scientists scratching their heads.

A study by Trapp et. al (2008) aimed to answer the question of which type of exercise is better for fat loss. The study explored how a 15-week program of high-intensity intermittent exercise (HIIE) affects body fat and insulin resistance in young women.

The participants were divided into three groups: one performing high-intensity intermittent exercise consisting of eight seconds of sprinting and 12 seconds of turning the pedals over slowly for 20 minutes, another doing steady-state exercise for 40 minutes. Both exercise groups saw improvements in cardiovascular fitness, but only the high-intensity intermittent exercise group experienced significant reductions in overall body weight, fat mass, and trunk fat, along with lower fasting insulin levels.

The study also found that fat loss was more pronounced in the legs than arms for the high-intensity intermittent exercise group. Researchers concluded that high-intensity intermittent exercise was more effective than steady-state endurance exercise in reducing body fat and insulin resistance.

But why, when that form of riding should be burning stored glycogen, which doesn't affect body fat? High-intensity cycling elevates heart rate and induces a greater afterburn effect, formally known as excess post-exercise oxygen consumption (EPOC).

This means the body continues to burn calories at an elevated rate even after the exercise has finished—something particularly advantageous for individuals with time constraints.

When high intensity interval training was compared with continuous steady state exercise, the post-exercise calorie burn was higher for the group doing interval training, The researchers concluded that “interval exercise may be more effective than continuous exercise in reducing body fat”

For improved cycling performance, not just fat loss, the results are not too dissimilar. A study by Burgomaster et.al 2007 looked at sprint versus endurance training from the perspective of improving muscle metabolism and how muscles use oxygen during exercise.

This study explored how two different types of exercise training—short, intense workouts (sprint-interval training ) and longer, steady workouts (endurance training )—affect the metabolism of muscles. While sprint interval training involved very intense but brief cycling sessions totalling about one hour per week, endurance training involved longer sessions, adding up to about 4.5 hours per week. Despite the significant difference in time commitment and overall training volume, both groups showed similar improvements in fitness levels and muscle metabolism.

The study concluded that short-interval training, despite being shorter and less time-consuming, is just as effective as endurance training in improving muscle metabolism, one aspect of cycling fitness.

When considering whether to ride longer distances or at a faster pace for weight loss, it's not about choosing one over the other; it's about knowing how each fits into a well-rounded exercise plan. Both methods offer unique advantages. Incorporating both into your routine can boost your cycling fitness and encourage fat loss.

Before settling on a weight-loss strategy, think about your circumstances. If you're new to cycling, longer and slower rides might be more manageable. On the other hand, experienced cyclists may relish the challenge of faster, more intense sessions. It's also worth considering your main goal: are you aiming to become a more capable cyclist, or is losing body weight your priority?

Another key factor is the amount of time you have for cycling. If your schedule is tight, high-intensity interval training (HIIT) or sprint workouts can be more effective, burning more calories and providing a longer post-exercise calorie burn as your body recovers. However, if you have plenty of time, longer endurance rides present their own set of benefits.

Long-distance endurance cycling enhances cardiovascular health by improving the heart's efficiency and increasing stamina, while also promoting the use of fat as a primary energy source. This form of cycling helps build muscle endurance and supports the development of a robust aerobic base, which is essential for overall fitness.

No matter what approach you choose, make sure it's realistic for your lifestyle and enjoyable, as you're more likely to stick with a routine that's fun, ultimately leading to sustained weight loss.

Remember, if weight loss is your goal, you can’t out-train a bad diet. Whether you opt for further or faster, you need to ensure that you are fuelling your training sessions properly, which means having the energy to complete the session whilst not over-fuelling and taking on more calories than needed. Nailing the basics of cycling nutrition will help maximise your results and get you closer to your fitness and weight-loss goals.

Test complete, they move on to reseating and truing the wheels, while enthusiastically explaining the skills they're learning and how they plan to use them on the outside. John, who has just received a parole hearing date, is already a trained vehicle mechanic and has been helping Nurden deliver the courses. (To protect their identities, we're not using real names or giving surnames for John and the other inmates in this feature. )

He's hoping the judge will be impressed by the positive way he has used his time. Next to him is Ali, who was a cab driver prior to going inside - a job he can't return to once he gets out.

"I'm learning a new living here," he beams. The classroom is calm and quiet, in complete contrast to scenes I soon witness elsewhere in the prison. Even as a very brief visitor, 'The Ville', a Victorian-era institution, is an intimidating place, full of movement, noise and tension.

It's dinnertime, and some cell doors are open, revealing tiny rooms, each with basic bunk beds and a toilet. This Category-B/C prison, built in 1842, was designed to hold 520 men in single-occupancy cells. Now there are over 1,100 inmates here, mostly two to a cell. We're greeted with some hard stares as we pass through multiple metal gates, but many prisoners are eager to talk, especially to the man I'm with: Stef Jones from XO Bikes.

Easily identifiable in his branded top, Jones is known as "Bike Geezer" in here, and word has spread that the mechanic course XO offers inmates can facilitate more than just temporary respite from the heavy atmosphere of the wings - it can open an escape route from a life of crime and incarceration.

Sadly, statistics state that many of these men, after being released, will end up back inside. According to a report released in February by former MP and Secretary of State for Justice, David Gauke, over half (56.9%) of men released from prison after serving a short custodial sentence will reoffend.

Britain's jails are full to bursting, and four out of every five inmates are repeat offenders. XO stands for ex-offender, and XO Bikes exists to help break this bleak cycle. "Our mission is to provide people the skills and self-belief they need to make it on the outside," Jones tells me as we walk the floors of Europe's biggest jail wing.

"Many of these guys have never been given recognition for anything in their entire lives. Simply getting a certificate saying they've completed the course, let alone passed it, means a massive amount to them. "

While volunteering in HMP Brixton, as a mentor in the chaplaincy, Jones grew exasperated at seeing men coming back in, months after walking out the door full of good intentions. Their stories were depressingly similar: no one would employ them.

"When you can't get a job it's hard to get your life into any sort of order," Jones explains. "And it's all too easy to fall back into bad company and habits. " Jones's solution was to employ them himself. He founded a charity called Onwards and Upwards, and during the Covid lockdown conceived the idea of XO Bikes. The programme takes offenders through Velotech training courses, with the bronze level currently being taught in Pentonville and Feltham Young Offenders Institute.

More advanced courses are delivered at XO Bikes's South London training centre. Once they are qualified bike mechanics, ex-offenders are helped by the charity to find employment. XO Bikes keeps a staff of 'fixers', as graduates of the course are known, and takes in pre-loved bikes - some donated by the public, others arriving via the Metropolitan Police (recovered but unclaimed) and Transport for London (abandoned at stations) - which are refurbished and sold at their stores in Wandsworth and Lewisham.

"We take bikes with a past and blokes with a past," says Jones, "and we give them both a chance to have a future. " In a previous life, Jones did 20 years as an advertising executive, and he still knows exactly how to grab people by the eyeballs.

When donated bikes arrive badly scratched, the frame is resprayed and it becomes an XO 'swag' bike. Each one of these restored steeds is sold with a bike lock shaped like a set of handcuffs. Everyone who completes the programme gets a number, starting with Tray, XO1, who has now been working as a mechanic for three years and helps Nigel Brook, XO's head mechanic, deliver advanced courses.

Each 'swag' bike is branded with a code, the fixer's digits followed by the number of bikes he has restored (e. g. 'swag' bike 001/020 is the 20th bike Tray refurbished). There's also a QR code that links to more information about the person who worked on your bike. For the purchaser, it's part of a cool story, but for the fixers these elements are badges of honour, reinforcing a real sense of achievement.

And the stats speak for themselves: almost 100 men have been through the programme, and just four have re-offended. Recently, to raise awareness, Jones began collaborating with Nic Georgiou, a Strava artist, who designed a cycling route around London, taking in the city's four main men's prisons (Pentonville, Brixton, Wandsworth and Wormwood Scrubs), while digitally etching the XO logo on the map.

After a chance meeting with Georgiou, I find myself part of the crew tasked with riding this route, along with XO Bikes programme-graduate-turned-employee Ollie (XO22) and several members of the Chain Gang, a London-based cycling club.

We meet in the Breakout Café, opposite Pentonville, where Ollie presents us with XO-branded striped cycling jerseys, designed to resemble the prison clobber you see convicts wearing in cartoons. When dawn reluctantly breaks, the day is as grey as the prison walls, against which we form a line-up for a photo, before pedalling into the drizzle.

Joining us for the first few miles is Will Norman, London's Cycling and Walking Commissioner, an effervescent ambassador for human-powered transport and passionate supporter of XO Bikes. "The XO programme is really reducing reoffending rates, but also, at the other end, they're making high-quality bikes available to people at a really affordable price," Norman enthuses, as we roll through backstreets. "For people on low incomes, the high cost of bikes is a huge barrier to cycling, so this is a great initiative. "

As a case in point, I'm riding a good-as-new-looking carbon-framed Trek Madone, which arrived in the XO system via the Met and will be sold on to some lucky punter at a fraction of its original price. The first part of our ride is fiddly, as Georgiou navigates us through narrow alleys and up and down cul-de-sacs, expertly drawing digital lines that will, once uploaded, magically manifest the shape of a road bike on the side of a gigantic XO logo.

"It's more art than exercise," observes Norman wryly as we pause our GPS devices again before U-turning and reactivating them, to create the outline of the handlebars. Norman has meetings to attend and bike lanes to plan, so he soon scoots off and our pace picks up, as we start the less intricate part of the drawing, crossing the river and joining the dots between HMP Brixton and Wandsworth.

Ollie tells me his story while we ride. He'd enjoyed a good education and a settled upbringing but made a mistake in his 20s that resulted in a conviction, and soon discovered doors were shutting in his face.

"I couldn't get a job anywhere," he explains. He found out about XO Bikes, completed the course, and is now operations manager at Jones's charity Onwards and Upwards, bringing firsthand knowledge of the challenges people with criminal records face. Our shared physical challenge soon goes up several cogs too, as the temperature plummets and we're hit by relentless rain and hail storms.

A tyre problem puts paid to Chain Gang rider Darren's day, and when nightfall begins nipping at our heels, Louis leaves us too, suffering severe toe numbness. Ollie, Nic and I grit our chattering teeth and circle around to Wormwood Scrubs, finally finishing the XO logo by 9pm, after a full day in the saddle and 127km of riding.

The next day, returning the bike to XO's Wandsworth store, I meet 23-year-old Danny, who is servicing a fork in the workshop. He tells me he had always ridden and built bikes as a kid, but got in with the wrong crowd as a teenager, and ended up in trouble with the law.

After being put in touch with XO Bikes by the Forward Trust, he completed the course, as Fixer X010, and now works in the shop five days a week. "It feels good to have a job," he smiles. "My family is proud. " And with some stability in his life, he can look forward, and make plans. "I'd love to have a bike shop and a business of my own one day," he says, sounding a lot like a bloke with a future.

How to buy a bike from XO

For years, savvy cyclists have been saving significant sums on new bikes by taking advantage of the cycle-to-work scheme. Now, a similar concept has been developed for people purchasing pre-loved steeds from XO Bikes. Just launched, and intended to improve access to good bikes for more people, the Recycle to Work scheme enables you to buy secondhand bikes through your employer, reducing the tax burden. Completely refurbished bikes bought from XO Bikes already cost about half their original price, and this scheme means you can make additional savings of 30 to 50%. For more, see xobikes.com/recycle-to-work-scheme.

“There are a lot of doctors who are like, ‘This is a pretty insane thing’,” he laughs. “There are no refunds for that type of surgery.”

Staniford, a 35-year-old marketing consultant based in Devon, has a rare genetic condition called MDP Syndrome, which affects only around 20 people worldwide.

Among other symptoms, the condition means that his body is unable to store fat beneath the skin, resulting in the ligaments and tendons in his legs becoming very tight.

“Over the years, it has caused a great deal of pain,” he tells Cycling Weekly. The bones in his legs, he goes on to explain, have now “warped together”, with the density dropping so low they are “starting to crumble”. The risk of a life-threatening infection is high.

“It's a whole mess, basically,” he says. But it hasn't stopped him from riding his bike.

Competing in the para-cycling categories, Staniford previously represented Great Britain, and won a national title in 2011. On Sunday, together with around 50 people who came to support, he took his legs on a “symbolic” final bike ride outdoors – a jaunt he dubbed his ‘Goodbye Legs Ride’.

“It was very peaceful and quiet. I wouldn’t go as far as to say it was spiritual – that’s a bit of a wishy-washy nonsense,” he says. “We were riding for riding’s sake, and just enjoying the simple act of cycling, with absolutely no intensity whatsoever. It was a 6mph average or something. We just stopped and smelled the daisies.”

Alongside the ride, Staniford has been raising money for four charities, including the Devon Air Ambulance Trust. His first surgery falls serendipitously around the 20th anniversary of the day he was airlifted to hospital, then a teenager, having crashed head-on with a car while cycling in the Devon lanes.

“I went through the windscreen and then rolled off down the road in a very bad shape,” he remembers. “I arrested twice during the flight – my heart stopped completely twice. I was effectively dead.

“They always joke that the good die young, and I should know, because I’ve done it twice,” he adds with a chuckle.

Already, the 35-year-old has met his fundraising goal of £10,000 – a number he says he “pulled out of the air”. He hopes that people will continue to donate, and has left his JustGiving page open until the end of May.

“People are like, ‘Oh, you’re so inspiring. How do you do this?’ But at the end of the day, it comes down to something very simple: I like riding my bike. That’s the only reason I do it,” he says.

“I didn’t do this to be inspiring. Quite selfishly, I’m doing it so I can get new legs. It seemed like a good thing to try and make some money as a side effect of that.”

The date of Staniford's first surgery is set for 21 May. Given his condition, he is unsure how well his body will heal from the procedures, but he has no intention to stop riding his bike afterwards.

“Cycling has been my saving grace,” he says, recalling the hours he has spent indoors on his Trek road bike, and outdoors on his Brompton. “It's enabled me to keep the blood going, the nerves going, and use all the muscles which I otherwise wouldn't because of the pain.

“I’ve made my peace with cycling if I am unable to do very much of it after the operations… In the best case scenario, I take to prosthetics, and I can push down really hard on the pedals, train properly, recover quickly, and hopefully get back to racing.

“If I can’t use my legs at all, there’s always hand cycles,” he adds with a smile.

Donations to Staniford’s JustGiving campaign are open until the end of May. As well as the Devon Air Ambulance Trust, funds will go towards the Wheels for Wellbeing charity, and two literary projects: the Exeter UNESCO City of Literature and the Devon and Exeter Institution.

Winning just one Classic can make a rider’s career. But there are a select few who win, win some more, and keep on winning, becoming their generation’s giant of the Classics. But what makes a Classics legend? What are the key ingredients needed to become a serial winner? How big a part is played by local knowledge? Is it nature, nurture, racecraft, or more to do with the strength of the team?

Take a look at the make-up of the sport’s most iconic cobbled Classics riders and one thing jumps out: most are around 180cm (5ft 11in) tall and weigh around 75kg. There have been a few outliers, of course, such as Fabian Cancellara and Tom Boonen, who were both taller and heavier, tipping the scales at over 80kg. Meanwhile, lighter-weight Grand Tour superstars barely stand a chance – except if their surname begins ‘Pog’.

Tim Podlogar, an exercise physiologist at the University of Exeter and a consultant to Tudor Pro Cycling Team, explains why lightweight climbers are so rarely in contention in the Classics. “Jonas Vingegaard can’t be a Classics rider because a high absolute power that you can sustain for a long time on flatter terrain is way more important than watts per kilogram.”

On the opposite end of the scale, bulky sprinters don’t fare well either. “The problem with bigger riders is that their high power output requires a high energy demand, and there’s a limit to the amount of energy absorption [from fuelling] during exercise,” Podlogar says.

With the exception of Paris-Roubaix, which doesn’t have any ascent of note, Classics are littered with short, steep climbs. The weight-weenies aren’t able to make their climbing strength count in the same way they can in the mountains of the Tour de France. “Look at what Tadej Pogačar said about Milan-San Remo – he needs a few extra kilos to improve his absolute power so he can push harder on the flats where it’s purely about power,” Podlogar says. And it was borne out: at this year’s San Remo, despite averaging 630 watts for just under nine minutes on the penultimate climn of the Cipressa, Pogačar could not get away from his rivals.

The Cipressa is 5.4km-long with a gradient of 4% – making it one of the longest climbs in all the Classics – but it was not long enough for Pogačar to press home any advantage over Mathieu van der Poel. The Dutchman is 9kg heavier than Pogačar but seemed quite comfortable as he covered the three-time Tour de France winner’s every move. “Over Classics climbs, a few minutes at most, a rider like Van der Poel can follow a rider like Pogačar because he has the anaerobic capacity to tolerate and sustain [high power] without having to dig into his aerobic capacity,” Podlogar explains. “Higher muscle mass has more fast-twitch fibres, which means having a higher anaerobic capacity, something that suits short, steeper climbs.” In simple terms, Van der Poel doesn’t need to get into oxygen debt.

Another advantage for mid-weight riders is how they’re able to cope better with uneven terrain. “You don’t want to be too light when you hit the cobbles because you’ll bounce around too much from all the kinetic energy,” Podlogar says. “A heavier rider is much more efficient on the cobbles than a lighter rider because they’re able to use the same amount of power for less energy.” There are many riders in the peloton of ideal stature for the Classics – quite tall and around 75kg – but they don’t enjoy the repeated success of Van der Poel and his ilk. So what else do such Classics stars possess?

Generational talent is the answer. “You just need the strongest rider, it’s as simple as that,” says veteran sports director Kim Andersen, now of Lidl-Trek. That view is shared by the rider he guided at various teams, Fabian Cancellara. “You need a Mathieu van der Poel, a Wout Van Aert, a Tadej Pogačar, you need a leader who can dominate and go for results,” says the multi Classics winner. And Edward Planckaert, one of Alpecin-Deceuninck’s go-to domestiques, is clear in his reply when asked if his team would be able continue their current Classics domination without Van der Poel. “No, I really don’t think so,” he says.

Learning the trade

Not even the most gifted riders can do it all by themselves. Cancellara began his career with Mapei-Quick Step, the team of Johan Museeuw, Tom Steels and Paolo Bettini, among others – each of them lecturers in how to win Monuments and triumph in punishing one-day tests. They taught a young Spartacus, as he would come to be known, how to read his rivals’ tactics and intentions, and how to pick his moment, when to stick and when to twist.

What Cancellara took above all from his mentors was how one superstar can lift the performance levels of his helpers. “A strong rider can make a weak team strong,” Cancellara says. “Alone, you can reach a certain level, but when the moment comes to really dominate, you need strong support from the people around you.” Once that moment came, Cancellara was incessant.

“I was always very demanding of myself, and I also requested a lot from those around me,” he continues. “I needed to get the best out of them, for them to give everything. A one-day race is not like a one-week or three-week stage race where you can save a bit of energy.” How did he get the best from his teammates? “The more a rider gave me, the more I gave them,” he says. “Ultimately, you need strong horses in the front who are going to pull. In the first three hours, my job was saving energy, saving my legs, and I needed the other guys around me to do their work and be fully focused.”

The impact of sports directors, often underestimated, tends to be more pronounced at one-day races than in slow-burning Grand Tours. “The DSs design the carpet and roll it out, and then it’s up to you to follow through with it,” Cancellara says, almost poetically. “In the race it’s not only about numbers; the tactics are a constant rolling situation. I was a guy who needed confidence and trust from the car and my colleagues. Even if I knew I was strong, sometimes I would question it, and if I would question too much, things would go wrong. That mental support is crucial.”

Local knowledge is imperative for a classics rider

Cancellara is Swiss, but most of the best Classics riders are Belgian. Local knowledge, knowing the entry to the bergs, when to take the foot off the gas and when to put the hammer down is more significant than in any other type of race. Poor positioning or misunderstanding of a race’s intricacies can very easily spell the end of a rider’s ambitions.

This is why riders complete reconnaissance rides. “You can look on the internet and Google Maps, but if you really want success, you need to go on recons,” says Andersen. “Even if you know Flanders or Liège, you must go and see it again to get a refresher.”

It is also why riders from Belgium and the Netherlands are at an advantage when it comes to the cobbled classics. They will have ridden climbs like the Oude Kwaremont countless times in junior races, and will know every twist and turn in the approach to the key climbs. This means they know where they need to be and when, which means they can save energy over riders who find themselves out of position at key moments

There’s another factor that influences performance: spicy rivalries. Whether it was Eddy Merckx versus Roger De Vlaeminck, Cancellara versus Tom Boonen, or Van der Poel versus Wout van Aert and/or Tadej Pogačar in modern times, facing a foe can be a help or a hindrance, according to Cancellara. “It can give you wings, but it can also put you in the shadows. It depends on the type of rider you are,” he says.

Kings of the classics and their teams

Since the Covid-19 pandemic, Alpecin-Deceuninck have been the stand-out team in the spring races, overtaking Soudal-Quick Step as the kings of the Classics. Alpecin haven’t matched that same prolificacy, but five different riders have won 26 spring Classics and semi-Classics for them since 2020.

“I think the reason we’ve been so successful is expectation and nailing the plan,” says Kaden Groves, Alpecin’s preferred third option. “We always have a good plan, everyone in the team knows their role during the day… we create scenarios that pull the race into our favour.”

At the start of the season, Van der Poel said that he would be focusing on the road and Classics in coming years. “If I’m still healthy and still enjoy cycling, why stop?” he added. We don’t yet know who his successor will be – perhaps Britain’s rising star Matthew Brennan – but he’s likely to be a rider of similar build.

“To do well in the Classics, you need to be the right size, and that mostly comes down to genetics,” Podlogar concludes. Alongside genes and the other prerequisites to succeed on the cobbles and up punchy climbs is a little bit of Lady Luck. Just ask Wout van Aert about that.

Best male Classics riders of all time

Eddy Merckx Years active: 1965–1978 | Belgian | 182cm | 74kg
29 wins including: 7x Milan–San Remo, 5x Liège–Bastogne–Liège, 3x Paris–Roubaix

Roger De Vlaeminck 1969–1984 | Belgian | 181cm | 74kg
20 wins including: 4x Paris–Roubaix, 3x Milan–San Remo, 1x Tour of Flanders

Johan Museeuw 1988–2004 | Belgian | 184cm | 71kg
18 wins including: 3x Flanders, 3x Roubaix

Tom Boonen 2001–2017 | Belgian | 192cm | 82kg
21 wins including: 4x Roubaix, 3x Flanders

Fabian Cancellara 2000–2016 | Swiss | 186cm | 80kg
13 wins including: 3x Flanders, 3x Roubaix

Philippe Gilbert 2002–2022 | Belgian | 178cm | 75kg 14 wins including: 4x Amstel Gold, 1x each of Roubaix, Flanders, Liège

Mathieu van der Poel 2014–present | Dutch | 184cm | 75kg 17 wins including: 3x Flanders, 3x Roubaix, 2x San Remo

Rik Van Looy 1953–1970 | Belgian | 178cm | 73kg 19 wins including: 3x Roubaix, 2x Flanders, 4x E3 Saxo Classic

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The sportive offers a reasonably simple prospect, even if it is one that has become all too rare in the UK - around 6,000 people covering 106km on beautiful, closed roads around Loch Ness, starting and finishing in Inverness, with one big climb and lots of punchy roads elsewhere. Due to RideLondon taking a year off, it is actually the biggest closed road sportive in the UK this year by entrants, not just in Scotland. While other events have been put on hiatus or disappeared due to a mix of local politics, concerned residents, the general cycling industry downturn or the costs of organising such things, the Etape Loch Ness has just chugged along.

Now in its 11th year, it is run by London Marathon Events - who also are behind RideLondon - but it still retains its community, local feel, with scores of enthusiastic volunteers out on the course. It made you feel actually welcome, and part of something bigger than yourself, which is always useful at a mass participation event. There were of course speedy people on expensive machines, but all sorts of people on all sorts of bikes testing themselves. Unlike the Tour of Flanders sportive, which I rode earlier this month, it didn’t feel as brutal, or full of people pretending to be Tadej Pogačar, which was a relief.

It was an early start due to road closures, and I was waiting to ride from about half five in the morning, but any grumbling about my lack of sleep was quickly forgotten in the adrenaline rush of the départ. There’s something special about setting off in a big group, with waves of 300 being let loose on the course at once, and for a brief moment, you can imagine what it’s like at the start of an actual bike race, although that quickly dissipated.

For some reason - not because of bravado - I was put in the first wave, and was even in the first 300 people to set off, because of misfortune rather than keenness. I was in there with the people wanting to win the sportive, those with their elbows out just to get to the front of the bunch before we’d even set off. I was there for a nice morning out, so this felt a tad incongruous.

A blur of overtakes were the theme of the first 25km, as those taking the event rather more seriously than me took their chance to head up the road. I was content to follow rather than lead, finding myself skirting Loch Ness in groups which towed me along against the prevailing wind. Not being used to riding in such large masses, I often found myself leaving my companions behind as the road headed uphill, only to be caught again as the gradient lowered.

The lack of traffic and overwhelming number of riders was special, with snatched conversations with fellow cyclists joyful, bringing some warmth on a Scottish morning. The views of Loch Ness and the surrounding forest never stopped bringing a smile to my face either, and I won’t have been alone in wanting to take a photograph of every metre of the ride. It was stunning the whole way round.

Around the halfway mark, the climb from Fort Augustus to Loch Tarff and beyond hoved into view. At 7.6km long at 4.7%, it sounded hard but eminently doable, but there were sections up to 18.7% along the way, especially on the first part. Riding up with so many people was a joy, and it gave extra motivation for the mildly competitive cyclist in me, as I ground my way up Glendoe; I am glad to say that I was only overtaken once on the climb. It was tough without being too tricky, and whatever speed people did it in, there was a real sense of achievement at the top.

The final 40km saw the prettiest roads, as the event shifted to winding country lanes on the opposite side of Loch Ness, with a thankful tailwind (not always supplied). The run back into Inverness was a dream, with the ride never feeling too much of a slog. It might have been almost four hours of riding, but it really didn’t feel like it. At Flanders, I was on the bike for almost six hours, and was cooked; less than four hours in the saddle at the Etape Loch Ness felt a lot friendlier, and it felt a bit more inclusive as a result. Maybe it was the Brit-heavy makeup of the riders, too, but it all felt a bit more together and less like thousands of people doing their own thing on crowded roads.

If you wanted to stop, there were plenty of opportunities to do so, with bountiful spreads on offer - shout-out to a macaroni pie for keeping me going. It felt local, and sustainable, but they were also prepared to feed the 5,000. The volunteers were amazing, with seemingly endless cheer for us cyclists, and so much support from locals too, which included a man parked up in his camper van blaring dance music inside the final 20km. I’m not sure I’ll ever be applauded on a bike as much as I was on Sunday, and I’ll tell you what, it was a nice feeling. The only let down was a lack of the Loch Ness monster - if you don’t see it while your brain is addled from hard exercise, when will you?

It is a shame that events like this are a rarity on British roads, with the amount of red tape and wrangling to go through to put it on, as this kind of thing should be experienced by all cyclists. You don’t have to go abroad or somewhere extreme to have this kind of fun - and also feel like you’ve done something big. Sure, you can race it, but you’ll have an even better time if you chat to some people around you, stop for a pie and really savour the event. It’s enough to make you fall in love with cycling.

My thoughts go out to the friends and family of the rider who died after he was hit by a car driver - horrible news to hear post-event.

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If you want to get in touch with Adam, email adam.becket@futurenet.com, or comment below.

Having completed her master's degree studies at the University of Exeter’s Cornwall campus - nestled on the southwestern tip of the UK - in 2023, then cycling 240-km from Exeter to Penryn for her graduation ceremony last summer, Veronica is now taking to two wheels to complete a remarkable tour of England.

“I had a wild idea for my PhD. I knew I wanted my research to involve people in farming communities, but – recognising the diversity of farming types across the UK – I knew I couldn't focus on just one region for my data collection. How could I speak to farmers across the whole country?” That’s where the Farming Futures CycleTour comes in.

Veronica’s PhD research will explore visions for the future of farming and food production in England - by bike. A Genesis Tour De Fer to be precise. For her fieldwork, Veronica’s particularly interested in the perspectives of women living and working on farms. So she’s embarking on a research and interview tour that involves cycling from Land’s End in Cornwall to the Scottish border near Carlisle.

“Along the way, I'll stop to interview women in farming communities, to learn about their visions for the future of farming and food production in England. My original plan was to stop at a different farm each night, but my supervisor quickly shut that down," she laughs. “Instead, I’ll cycle for a week and then spend a week conducting interviews and observations in a specific area before moving on.”

Veronica’s passion for pedalling was nurtured in the Netherlands. “My family didn’t have a car, so cycling was our primary mode of transport.”

From the age of 11, Veronica cycled to school daily, covering around four kilometres each way. The vast majority of her journey was on completely protected cycle paths, passing through fields with no cars in sight. But when she moved to the UK to start university, she found herself dealing with a very different culture when it came to cycling.

“I brought my bike with me," she recalls, "but I was scared of cycling on the roads and the hills. The infrastructure just wasn’t the same."

The transition from the Netherlands' cycle-friendly environment to the UK's disjointed cycle network was challenging. Norwich, where she attended university, branded itself as cycle-friendly, yet in practice, it was a different story. "I'd try to get out to the big supermarket, and suddenly, the cycle path would just dead-end into a massive road. I’d think, ‘Now what?’"

It wasn't until starting her PhD in Exeter that Veronica discovered the National Cycle Network (NCN) and the benefits it could bring to those nervous about cycling in the UK. “I was using routes like the Exe Estuary Trail without realizing they were part of this larger network. When I started looking at the NCN map, it was like, ‘Wow, there are so many more places I can explore!’"

“Some NCN routes are entirely traffic-free, like the Tarka Trail and the Granite Way, while others use quiet country lanes. But there were times, when my boyfriend and I cycled from Exeter to Falmouth for my graduation, where even on NCN routes, we didn't always feel safe. Cars had space to overtake, but their speed made it intimidating." Often, the couple found themselves rerouting via smaller lanes where, despite the narrower space, they felt safer.

Women and wheels

Veronica is acutely aware of the barriers that prevent more women from taking up cycling. "Safe, connected infrastructure is fundamental," she insists.

But visibility and representation matter, too as Veronica points out when recalling the purchase of her bike from Saddles & Paddles, a female-owned bike shop in Exeter. "It was the first time I'd been served by a woman in a bike shop. We joked about wanting a ‘pretty’ bike, and it felt refreshing to have that conversation without judgment. It’s such a small thing, but it made a big difference."

She also feels that her experience in the male-dominated world of cycling parallels the challenges faced by women in farming. "I recently took a cycle maintenance course in Bristol and was the only woman there, apart from one of the instructors. It reminded me why I want to focus on women in farming - both industries have similar gender imbalances. One day, I’d love to do an interview with a female bike shop owner and a female farmer to compare their experiences."

"I’ll be speaking with women who work on farms, whether as farmers, farm workers, or family members involved in agricultural life. I’ll also be reflecting on my own experience of cycling through these farmed landscapes, considering how climate change might affect them in the future. I think I’ll be relying heavily on voice notes as I ride, then jot down thoughts in my field journal each evening."

Veronica is also working on promoting her expedition and drumming up support and interest around the country as she rides. “I’ve been recording videos and taking photos on cycling trips I’ve done here and overseas. I’ll use my blog and social media to document my journey and experiences. "

She’s also keen to engage with the public along the way. "If any women want to join me for parts of my ride or if there are female farmers interested in being interviewed, I’d love to hear from them."

Veronica’s trip will take her from Land’s End through Cornwall, Devon, Dorset, and up toward London, then east to Norwich before heading north along the coast through Lincolnshire, the Yorkshire Moors, Cumbria, and finally to the Scottish border. "I start in mid-April and aim to finish by early July - 12 weeks in total, alternating between cycling and data collection weeks."

Veronica’s also already aware of the emotional highs and lows such a demanding journey could conjure up. "Last month, I had a bout of really severe anxiety about the trip. I posted about it in a Facebook cycling group, asking for advice, and the response was incredibly reassuring. It reminded me how valuable a supportive community can be. Social media has been a great way to connect with and learn from other women embarking on similar adventures."

As she sets off, Veronica hopes her journey will inspire more women to take up cycling and spark meaningful conversations about the future of farming. "At the end of the day, it’s about making these spaces more inclusive - whether that’s on the road or in the fields."

You can follow Veronica's travel on her website.

Times change, though, and the gravel market has moved quickly over the last couple of years, so it's no surprise that there's an updated version on its way. Despite this, Argon18 has stuck to its original formula of a more rounded bike designed for long-distance riding and racing. With its range of mounting options, it should also make a great bikepacking bike.

Longer, slacker, lower

Those of you who ride mountain bikes will be all too familiar with the words, longer, slacker and lower when it comes to geometry, but it is still not as widespread in the gravel world as it probably should be. The latest Dark Matter follows this trend, featuring a longer reach and wheelbase, as well as a 1-degree slacker head angle. This should give it a more planted feeling and make it easier to handle over rough sections and technical descents, which not only enhances trail speed but can also help reduce fatigue on long rides.

It's also bang on trend for wider tyres, taking up to 57mm wide rubber, with 50mm versions fitted as standard specification.

Argon18 says it's improved the aerodynamics. Thanks to enhancements in its lay-up and dropped seatstays, it says that comfort levels have increased too, while also reducing the frame weight by 150g.

There's now frame storage in the downtube, which is ideal for those who prefer a clean-looking bike free from bags, for day-to-day riding.

While there is no mention of suspension compatibility in the marketing information, the Argon18 rider Chris Hall has posted some pictures on his instagram feed of his Dark Matter sporting the latest fork from Fox. Hall is racing the bike in the Traka event in Girona that features some pretty technical (for gravel at least) trails and gives an idea of just how capable a bike it could be for those looking to blur the lines between XC mtb and gravel.

Availability and pricing

The Argon 18 Dark Matter will be available in three specifications, with prices ranging from £3,500 to £6,500.

The GRX version will be the first one to hit shop floors, with the two SRAM variants due to follow later. All are built around a 1x groupset, which I'm happy to see, as my main criticism of the original bike was its old-school feeling and tyre width limiting 2x set-up.

That said, if you're still a double chainset fan, the frame will take it, but as yet, there's no word on frame-only options.

At launch the bike is offered in three builds:

Dark Matter SRAM Force XPLR AXS

• Frame/fork: Dark Matter carbon
• Groupset: SRAM Force XPLR AXS Wide 40t, 10-44t
• Wheelset: Zipp 303 XPLR S
• Tyres: Schwalbe G-One RX Pro TLR 50mm
• Bars: FSA A-Wing Pro AGX
• Stem: FSA SMR-II
• Saddle: Repente Quasar 2.0
• Seatpost: Argon 18 TDS-C carbon
• Price: £6,500 / $6,650 / €7,395

Dark Matter SRAM Rival AXS

• Frame/fork: Dark Matter carbon
• Groupset: SRAM Rival XPLR AXS Wide 40t, 10-44t
• Wheelset: DT Swiss G1800 alloy
• Tyres: Schwalbe G-One RX Pro TLR 50mm
• Bars: FSA A-Wing Pro AGX
• Stem: FSA SMR-II
• Saddle: Repente Quasar 2.0
• Seatpost: Argon 18 TDS-C carbon
• Price: £4,500 / $4,650 / €5,095

Dark Matter Shimano GRX

• Frame/fork: Dark Matter carbon
• Groupset: Shimano GRX RX822/610 40t, 10-51t
• Wheelset: DT Swiss G1800 alloy
• Tyres: Vittoria Terreno T50 Mixed 50mm
• Bars: FSA A-Wing Pro AGX
• Stem: FSA SMR-II
• Saddle: Repente Quasar S 2.0
• Seatpost: Argon 18 TDS-C carbon
• Price: £3,500 / $3,650 / €3,995

There are still plenty of brand-new steel and titanium bikes being made with up-to-date groupsets, componentry and geometry. Indeed, Colnago's latest, limited-production steel bike, the Steelnovo, commanded a price tag of £15,000 and sold out all 70 units within two hours. Precious metal indeed.

Steel and titanium bikes have a revered place in some cyclists' hearts and are described in glowing terms, with words like 'classic' and 'timeless' often to the fore. Although some of the bigger brands do offer steel bikes, the kind we are talking about here is usually the preserve of smaller, boutique companies; machines created by craftsmen, not robots.

So, what is the enduring appeal of metal-framed bikes, when by most performance metrics, carbon is 'better'? Perhaps the most oft-touted answer is ride quality - that ethereal element which is difficult to describe but which gives a particular character to a bike.

Steel, and its posher cousin titanium, is frequently described as zingy, forgiving and comfortable.

It is seen as offering a more individual ride experience than the bland consistency of moulded carbon fibre, with each bike or frame having a discernible character. Indeed, John Wainwright, a pro with Raleigh-Weinmann in the 1980s, told me that although he was issued with two identical 753 steel-framed race bikes, he had a clear preference for the ride of one of the bikes, to the extent that the other languished unridden in his cellar for the whole season.

This idea of steel or titanium bikes having more 'soul' than carbon bikes is supported by the fact that they are the favoured materials of specialist frame builders such as Fairlight Cycles. That the end product is inexorably linked to the process and the craftsman adds a layer of romanticism that's missing from an off-the-peg carbon machine. Fairlight frame builder Dom Thomas summarises steel's appeal:

"It is incredibly strong, yet you can build a frame with just fire and brass. It can also be very sculptural-parts are easily shaped and filed by hand. Of all frame materials, it is the closest to wood in the sense that the human hand can shape and refine it."

Furthermore, many riders wanting or needing custom geometry end up with steel or titanium, as it is easier to produce one-off builds than it is with carbon-fibre.

Colour choice, mount placement and tubing type are also likely to be offered as discussion points by steel frame builders, involving more involvement in the process and a greater sense of emotional attachment than with an off-the-peg purchase.

Leytonstone-based Stayer Cycles's marketing blurb states: "Whatever speed you ride, a Stayer frame is made to last by folks who know bikes and how to put them together and are... the folks who you talk to when you get in touch to ask questions or to place an order."

It's a real point of differentiation. Good luck trying to have a chat with the person who designed or built your Giant or Canyon. Durability is also frequently cited as a reason to choose metal. This has led to steel or titanium being popular choices for the best gravel and bikepacking bikes as well as road bikes, where perceived toughness is more relevant than low weight or aerodynamics.

As Thomas puts it, "If utility, function, longevity and repairability are at the top of a person's list, then steel cannot be beaten." Steel is preferred by long-distance tourers, not least because you're more likely to find a welder than a carbon expert in a remote corner of eastern Europe when a mechanical fault threatens to end your adventure.

Rob Quirk, of Quirk Cycles in East London, says that customers often get in touch wanting a 'forever bike', having ridden and been disappointed by mass-produced products. On a larger scale, carbon is seen as disposable, wasteful and more harmful to the environment.

Trek's 2023 report on the brand's sustainability calculated that, on a per kilo basis, manufacturing a carbon-fibre frame produced 24kgCO2eq (kilograms of carbon dioxide equivalent) compared to just 1.77kgCO2eq for steel and 0.43kgCO2eq for recycled steel.

Tubing manufacturer Reynolds uses 100% recycled materials in its steel products, making it far more environmentally friendly than carbon. The scope for recycling carbon-fibre remains extremely limited.

Professor Tony Ryan, founding director of the Grantham Centre for Sustainable Futures and stalwart of the Common Lane Occasionals Cycling Club says, "My favourite of all is my titanium gravel bike because it's so adaptable and so comfortable to ride. You get the lightness of carbon and the springiness of steel. Certainly, longevity and repairability are an advantage.

Without a doubt, my next road bike will be a titanium." There is an issue with the 'bike for life' concept, though. The cycling industry is very keen to constantly invent new standards and make older ideas obsolete.

It's all very well being perfectly happy with your 1995 Litespeed Vortex, 2004 Colnago C50 or even a carbon 2018 Cervélo R5, but if there are no rim-brake wheelsets, suitable cassettes or compatible bottom brackets, the bike becomes obsolete, whether you like it or not.

The last couple of years have been extremely tough for a lot of the bike industry, but the more boutique manufacturers have a business model that has been better able to weather the storm.

With shorter supply lines, smaller stock holdings and lower overheads, they can be far more agile than the bigger brands-or, as Sam Taylor of Stayer Cycles succinctly puts it, "It's a resilient industry because it's just people in sheds."

Dominic Mason adds, "We don't rely on mass manufacturing, and we can adjust orders based on exact demand." But all makers were until recently at the mercy of faltering groupset supply lines, as Glen Whittington of the Aeight Bike Company points out: "Now the market has settled down to a sustainable place, the majority of those who are left are doing it well and have a good customer base."

Much like restored and modified cars-so-called restomods - a modern steel bike still has familiar classic looks but with brakes and gears that work a lot better than the original concept.

There is also perhaps an acceptance among consumers that a few grams extra, or being slightly less aero, won't greatly impact their rides - whereas owning and riding a unique, beautifully crafted machine will add joy.

Rides on a steel or titanium bike are not necessarily undertaken for PBs or KOMs, but simply for enjoyment's sake and taking pride in your discerning taste. Then again, don't underestimate the speed advantage just from being comfortable, especially on longer rides: "If you can make someone comfortable, they will almost always travel faster over longer distances, and they'll certainly have a more pleasant experience," says Whittington.

Cycling Weekly's Joe Baker wrote of his 1992 Columbus-tubed Massi Mega Team Race bike: "Pretty much every ride I do now will feature a cafe at some point, and the truth is I love how this looks up against the fence while I sip my coffee." Joe's thoughts are typical of steel bike buyers; it is a purchase made with the heart.

Like music lovers listening to vinyl or car enthusiasts choosing a wooden-chassis Morgan, the decision is driven not by stats or specs but by the feelings that the object induces. Thus, metrics like aero drag, weight and efficiency matter much less than that contented glance over your shoulder as you put the bike back in the garage after a ride.

By the same reasoning, a metal bike is less likely to be superseded the following season. If you want the fastest bike available, you constantly need to upgrade as new models come out, which is neither environmentally nor financially sustainable.

But if you own the nicest bike as judged by your own standards of taste, the love affair is likely to last much longer. As I pored over a titanium bike brand's websites and zoomed in on images of beautiful frames, I realised how different the message was compared to that of mainstream carbon brands.

Not once did I read about claimed drag figures or aerodynamic statistics, and there was barely a mention of weight or measurements of bottom bracket stiffness. Instead, the rhetoric was about spirit, feeling and the craftsmanship involved.

As Quirk Cycles puts it, "We're not trying to make the most bikes, we're trying to make the best bikes." There is also a tangible sense of community, with many of these smaller brands engendering strong brand loyalty.

Of course, bikes with metal frames aren't for everyone. Even the most ardent metal bike fan will concede that steel, and even titanium, cannot begin to compete with carbon-fibre in terms of weight or aerodynamics.

If outright speed and race-orientated performance are important to you, metal isn't for you. Sandy Smith of Sheffield's Fleur De Lys club says: "I've owned a titanium bike, and although it was nice enough, it never felt particularly sharp. I don't race, but my club rides feel pretty competitive, so I prefer the speed and low weight of my carbon bikes." With carbon frames under 700g available, sculpted in the most wind-cheating shapes, it is unlikely that a steel bike will ever win a professional race again.

Even Litespeed's self-proclaimed "world's lightest titanium road bike", the Coll dels Reis, has a frame that tips the scales at well over 900g. Another mark in favour of carbon bikes is that, while prohibitively expensive at the top end, they have never been more accessible at the lower end, with plenty to choose from in the £1,000-2,000 bracket. Producers of metal bikes aren't standing still, however.

Ribble's use of 3D printing for the frame of its titanium Allroad Ti bike shows that new technology and production ideas can be applied to the traditional as well as the modern. Rob Quirk also points out that modern steel alloys are a world apart from the steel tubing of yesteryear. In addition, titanium no longer seems prohibitively expensive, at least not when compared to premium carbon bikes.

The priciest Ribble Allroad Ti, with Shimano Dura-Ace, is £7,999, while a similarly equipped J. Laverack R J.ACK titanium bike is £8,995; it's hard to find a carbon bike as well-specced at those prices.

Given that the steel and titanium bike industry has survived and even thrived in the 29 years since 'Big Mig' powered his steel Pinarello to victory, it's reasonable to assume that the motorsport mantra of 'Win on a Sunday, sell on a Monday' does not apply here.

Instead, the market appears to be driven by a desire to own a bike that is more than just a tool and where the purchasing process is more involved than clicking the 'buy now' button.

Choosing steel or titanium is rarely an impulse purchase; it's a deliberate, often passionate decision driven by craftsmanship, heritage and the pleasure of owning something built to last. While every rider's motivation is unique, most are drawn to these bikes not just as machines to be pedalled, but as objects to be cherished, admired, and enjoyed for years to come.

I tried to avoid the distractions of the myriad cargo bikes, mountain bikes, and e-bike solutions on display (with some exceptions due to the sheer awesomeness of what I was seeing) and instead focus on a selection of highlights that stood out to me as a big road and gravel bike fan.

Cycling Weekly was also asked to judge the ‘Best Road Bike’ category, requirements of which meant we spent more time with certain bikes.

The show has always been early to the party with experimental paint. Creativity is always high in this area, but this year, as the screws tighten for many, so do the gears in the minds of the never-quit community here. Newer technologies like Cerakote, an advanced ‘military-grade’ ceramic coating is everywhere at this show now, with builders reporting excellent results and time savings thanks to the rapid ease of application and far higher abrasion resistance than 2k or wet paint finishes.

Another apparent theme here, which has been echoed elsewhere in the industry, is the interest in adventure cycling, bikepacking, and the road less traveled. Tyres are getting wider here as elsewhere, but the utility and creative thought going into packing ever more of your life onto your bike starts here. The innovative and well-made luggage solutions from Tailfin and Wizard Works are regulars here too and worth a look.

Petor (and his community) feels like cycling’s answer to the fictitious Hollywood gym owner, Peter LaFleur, defying the odds and triumphing over the wider industry’s villainous rival, White Goodman, in Dodgeball.

Here in Manchester, Bespoked is every-bit a weekend feel-good movie about the underdog triumphing over the corporate megalith. In this little corner of our weird and wonderful cycling world, this still-energetic, welcoming, and open corner of cycling culture is a powerful tonic, and it's not to be missed.

If you’re not doing anything today, you could do a lot worse than skipping the club run to get down to the show to soak up the last-day vibes.

If you’ve missed this weekend, the show continues in Dresden, Germany, in October, where the incredible energy of the local community there, meets the Bespoked Caravan like the Carnival has come to town!

Meteor Works

Meteor Works is just one part of Lee Prescott’s interest in cycling, but perhaps it’s this breadth of experience in the areas that matter most to understand how to make a good bike that makes his work stand out.

He’s an experienced fitter, mechanic, writer, and product designer, and it shows. He designed the geometry of the bikes shown here, fitted them, fabricated them, and even painted them himself. Every aspect is executed to a high degree of technical competency. We singled-out his work for third place in the Best Road Bike category.

Gregario Cycling

Gregario is a team based out of Turin, who are using algorithms and app-based technology to allow you to scan your own body at home, to produce a dataset that feeds straight into the individual mould development of your own custom-made frame.

I was told the frame they were using to showcase the technology is market-ready. While the design and development process, which allows anyone, anywhere in the world to access their services, was clearly the tech they wanted to push, the underlying frame concept is a really standout design, featuring a stem and bar with a negative-degree stem coupled to a riser section on the handlebar. The seat tube wrapped the rear wheel in a more extreme way than I’ve seen before, with setback restored to sensible levels through a ‘lay-forward’ seat post clamp arrangement.

Aero integration at the head tube and into the fork crown looked advanced, although the language barrier prevented me from going into more detail. I’ll look into this one and report in more detail at a later date.

The bike was equipped with Campagnolo’s Super Record Wireless. Of course.

AEIGHT BIKE CO.

Aeight bike co is run by Glen Whittingdon, a UCI-ticketed professional mechanic and racer. If you’ve ever attended a Hot Chillee event, you will likely recognise his friendly, bearded face. He’s also an accomplished bike designer and fabricator.

His AXE ‘Sand Racer’ was an absolute knockout in person. You can find it on Schwalbe’s stand, alongside other strong work. The bike is more mountain bike than gravel bike, but it deserves a mention for the sheer quality of the build and its visual impact. The bike looks like it can go anywhere and wants to.

It was possibly the most aggressive and visually integrated bike on show, so it’s little surprise it picked up an award for Best Finish, awarded by paint and finishing experts Ian Patterson (formerly of Cole Coatings) and Jack Kingston of Kingston Kustoms, who these days is the go-to gun-for-hire for all the best custom builders.

Apocalypse Bike Build Off

Not since TBA’s Hack Bike Derby have we seen framebuilders come together to show what can be done when talented bike builders go ‘Scrap Heap Challenge’.

The result was some of the most ridiculous, smile-inducing, and worrying insights into builders’ minds. Recurring themes were, of course, self-sufficiency delivered through integrated hunter-gatherer, prepare, and cook technology, to more considered integrated lighting, charging, and e-propulsion systems.

If you’re a Specialized die-hard who worries about the length of their socks, this section won’t be for you, but I’d urge anyone attending to spend some time looking really closely at the details on these bikes. Behind the art-school or comic-con styling is significant evidence of considered engineering minds at work here. In some cases.

Mason Cycles

Mason is more bike company than framebuilder, but their bikes continually show up at Bespoked and are a supremely valid and welcome addition, such is the integrity of Dom Mason’s detailed approach to product design.

He’s an expert on both design and fabrication, and the polish in the final product would trick some into thinking this is not an artisan brand at all. Behind the contemporary finishes and sharp styling is always a very well-made frame, fabricated in small batches by his trusted builders – to standards as high as any of the established or truly bespoke builders in the room.

We have a new Mason ISO 2 in for review soon. But for now, you’ll have to make do with a photo of this good-looking gravel build, which immediately put me in mind of a resto-modded classic Defender. Tailfin gear has always impressed Cycling Weekly, and is well designed – well worth a look if you’re considering upgrading your bikepacking setup.

Cotic Cycles

Cy Turner from Cotic is widely regarded as one of the nicest guys in cycling. He’s been quietly working away to build and establish Cotic from his workshop in the Peak District for twenty years.

Today, he produces some of the most accomplished examples of genuinely British design and engineering in the UK cycling industry. He is to his corner of the universe as Simon Mottram of Rapha is to British apparel, or Will Butler-Adams of Brompton is to British manufacturing, just on a much smaller scale.

FEATHER CYCLES

Ten or twelve years ago, the resurgence in handmade bike culture that had come about in the UK was underpinned by a handful of uber-competitive, creative new builders. Established names like Robin Mather, Rourke, or Curtis competed alongside new entrants, Saffron, Donhou, then Hartley, and others.

Feather was a founder member of that Brat Pack, and every year at the handmade events, shots would be fired, and one or the other would go home with armfuls of rosettes, distributed between them as reliably as Trek or Specialized pick up World Tour victories.

Depending on which flavour of "Best Road Bike" the judges prefer, the rosettes still pass around the same heavyweights pretty reliably, and this year was Ricky's year again. He was awarded Best Road Bike for his modern steel racer, in a stunning Tottenham Hotspur-inspired paint design that was so new, the customer hasn't even signed off on it yet.

Ricky Feather has always delivered work on his own terms, and in that spirit, he made a shock announcement earlier this year that he will be stepping down in two years, after just fifty more frames.

If you want one, and think your proposal for a dream build might qualify for a slot, get in touch now, as the window to own a Feather Cycle of your own is closing.

Wizard Works

Harry and Ve of Wizard Works are a joy to meet, work with, or buy from. These people are who they say they are and do what they do, for the love of it. The passion and care they put into their everyday work spills out of every product they make and sell. Their gear is some of the best-looking and most functional available anywhere in the market, and it’s all made by themselves in their own workshop, right here in the UK.

If you don’t see something that does exactly what you need it to, talk to them, and they’ll make it for you. Where else can you find brands like this?

TED JAMES DESIGN (TJD)

If Bespoked is about community, Ted is one of the personalities that glues it together. An ex-pro BMX’er who was there right at the start of fixed culture in the UK, he landed in London when London needed a pirate with an engineering mind. He could make rad bikes that wouldn’t break and could marry a BMX to a petrol lawnmower effectively, on no sleep.

He’s been featured in The Guardian for his penchant for recovering and eating roadkill, and his stories are legendary. Make no mistake, though, Ted James is one of the most accomplished and naturally talented engineers working in European cycling today.

Everything that makes it to his stand each year does so through sheer force. Where others need to rely on sophisticated CAD and drawings, Ted relies on his brain, communicating with his hands with the creativity of an artist and the precision of a CNC lathe. It all comes out of his head. He’s a consummate problem solver and a bicycle engineer of no equal.

Sturdy Cycles

If you’re into nice bikes and have heard of 3D printing, and you haven’t come across Sturdy Cycles, then you must have been living under a rock.

We awarded his Cerakote white titanium road bike second place in this year’s Best Road Bike category. In our opinion, the bike is so considered it was hard for us not to award top honours, but with the classic form of the road bike arguably so clearly defined, the technology and sheer brilliance of what Tom Sturdy is able to achieve, couldn’t quite trump the clean, classic, dazzling cool of the Feather.

If Tom’s bike is Harry Styles, Feather’s was one of Harry’s heroes joining him mid-set to send the crowd wild. Had Feather stayed at home, Tom would have killed it on his own.

We have just tested his SC-G Gravel bike off-the-peg bike. A full review should be out this month. Spoiler: it’s very good.

CICLI BARCO

The Barco family was for years one of Italy’s best-kept framebuilding secrets. Since 1947, the family has been quietly crafting what, for many in the trade, are regarded as the best stainless steel bicycle frames available anywhere in the world.

For some years, the Barco family worked for Scapin before composite manufacturing largely took over Scapin operations and sidelined steel. Alberto and his brother Maurizio saw the opportunity to set up on their own, and Cicli Barco was born.

Today, the family manufactures for a select group of high-end brands who value their expertise in stainless steel, specifically XCR. Their client list is closely guarded, but it proves there is no one more qualified to handle this material than Barco, anywhere.

The Barco gravel bike shown here is a great example of their highly proficient TIG skills, married to their elegant approach to design, finished in a mixture of polished stainless steel and paint, with an integrated front end. The dropout, in the already ultra-clean house style, has been developed to integrate perfectly with a UDH system and was the standout detail of the show for me.

The man behind the show...

This year’s UK event took place in Manchester on the last weekend of April, in the partly restored Victoria Baths, recognised as Britain’s finest historic municipal swimming pool. It’s an unlikely venue to showcase the UK and Europe’s finest handmade bikes.

Petor Georgallou, Bespoked’s owner, has in recent years reshaped the event to broaden its reach and appeal. The choice of venue is just one part of how he is challenging both his community and the wider industry to think differently and come together to meet the myriad challenges the industry faces.

His creativity keeps this show going despite the challenging economic backdrop and once again, the show serves as a safe space for those thriving, surviving, or inspired to start in an industry where the rewards are deeply satisfying but the artistic and commercial struggles are real.

Notably absent are the trappings of a commercial show. Detailed, free-to-attend talks led by industry stalwarts such as Tony Corke, on behalf of the International Bike Fitters Institute (IBFI), are interspersed with inspirational appeals from The Gaza Sunbirds para-cycling team. Incredibly advanced 3D-printed technology and innovative gearboxes are shown alongside a wondrously creative collection of ‘Apocalypse Build Off’ bikes made from off-cuts in someone’s shed.

Big brands do come too, but they leave their corporate stands at home. Schwalbe tyres, a long-term supporter of the show, uses its influence to bring in small builders with outstanding work who might otherwise not have been able to attend.

Just weeks earlier, pro BMX rider Corey Walsh had come out as gay, and by October, Australian footballer Josh Cavallo had become the world's first openly gay male professional footballer. The following year, Britain saw its own breakthrough when Blackpool FC's Jake Daniels came out. If even football could open up and accept gay players, surely it was only a matter of time for cycling. Yet here we are four years later and, in male professional road cycling, representation remains stuck at zero.

It is statistically almost impossible that there are no gay pros. The latest sexual orientation data from the ONS indicate that 10.4% of people aged 16-24, and 6.3% of those aged 25-34, identify as lesbian, gay or bisexual. If we apply a conservative estimate of 6% for pro cyclists - most of whom fall within the above age range - at least 50 male pros are gay or bi. Yet not one has revealed it publicly.

There has been one watershed event. Just two months after my feature – Why is the peloton hiding its true colours? – was published, British elite rider Clay Davies came out as gay in an interview with the website British Continental. He explained that he had decided to tell team-mates about his sexuality five years earlier - only after a near- fatal accident in which he was hit by a car and trapped beneath its wheels, breaking both arms.

"It took quite literally nearly dying for me to reveal my sexuality," he said. For the past two years, Davies, who is 32, has been the country's number-one ranked elite rider - at amateur level, he is as high a profile figurehead as we could hope for. I wanted to catch up with Davies and ask him whether, like me, he had hoped a male pro rider or two might follow his lead and break what is effectively a sexuality omerta.

"Two things have happened in cycling to prevent it," he tells me by video call from the sunny garden of the Spanish hotel where he is on a two-week training break. "First, you've got the rise of teams sponsored by states where being gay is illegal or even subject to the death penalty."

This is an important point: in the UAE, the state that sponsors the world's top-ranked team, gay sex can carry a prison sentence of up to 14 years. "Secondly," continues Davies, "the bike industry is in dire straits, so anything non-essential has been pushed down the priority list."

Davies believes there are gay men in the World Tour but that they keep quiet about their sexuality for fear of jeopardising their career prospects. "I imagine they are out within their teams, almost entirely," he says, "but feel they can't go public because of the attention it would bring." He sympathises with their predicament. "The training as a WorldTour rider is f****ing hard."

To add to the stress with that sort of media attention they just won't have the mental capacity for it." In that landmark interview in 2021, Davies revealed that he was suffering from depression "almost certainly as a result of being in the closet for so long.

"Did opening up, in shedding that burden, also lift the limits on his cycling performance? "It probably did, as I'd had a lot going on in my head," he says. "There was a bit of weirdness to begin with, but now I'm probably one of the best known cyclists in the country." His point: at this stage, everyone knows, so there's nothing left to fear.

What did that initial "weirdness" amount to? "I got literally hundreds of messages-100% supportive apart from one message from an elite team owner saying something along the lines of 'I don't see what all the fuss is about'." From his competitors in and around races, Davies has not been subjected to any homophobic comments since coming out.

"My boyfriend David comes to most races," he says. "I don't hide anything. The generation that used to make sly comments have all gone now." It's an encouraging shift - but I wonder if Davies's experience is universal, or if his competitive stature acts as a kind of forcefield. He tells me he is in contact with "about 10" other gay or bi male racers, four of whom compete "at a decent level" - and agrees to ask if any would be willing to speak to me for this feature.

In the meantime, through the inclusive cycling club Ldn Riders, I make contact with Greg Speakman, a 28-year-old gay man who over the past few years has raced prolifically and now holds a second-cat licence. "I've never had any negative comments while racing on the domestic scene," he tells me, corroborating Davies's upbeat assessment.

"The only negative views I've heard have come from older people in club culture, fossils who were just as misogynistic as they were homophobic." In his day job, Speakman serves as an LGBTQ+ liaison officer for Thames Valley Police, so he has more insight than most into the impact of homophobia, not just in sport but across society.

"My job probably gives me a thicker skin," he reflects, "but even so, negative comments still have an impact, at least subconsciously." Does he fear a slipping back, an unravelling of progress? "I've sensed it on social media, mostly coming from Trump's America," he says. "You can't ignore that, and it's something to be wary of for the future, but I'm still optimistic we're taking steps forward overall."

Making sure this progress extends to cycling means, in Speakman's view, keeping up the push for LGBTQ+ visibility with initiatives and events that make it known that all sexualities and gender identities are welcome. In his assessment, do fears around a lack of acceptance deter LGBTQ+ riders from signing up to clubs and races? "Absolutely, yes. Unlike in team sports with openly gay leagues, it's harder to find like-minded people and role models in cycling."

There is no deterring him, though - his 2025 race schedule is already filling up. "My main aim in racing this year," he grins, "is to get more Ldn Riders clubmates involved. I'll keep saying it-come and have a go!" Two weeks pass, then a WhatsApp message arrives from Davies telling me that one of his LGBTQ+ contacts has agreed to speak on condition of anonymity. The rider, whom we'll refer to as Jack (not his real name), is in his early-20s and competes at the sharp end of amateur road racing. After messaging him, I hear nothing back for a full day and begin to suspect he has had second thoughts. But then he responds, agreeing to a video call.

Mindful of his wish to remain anonymous, my first question is whether Jack is 'out' to his friends and team-mates. "It's quite dependent," he pauses. "There are some riders I've told, and none of them have reacted badly, but I'm very selective." Jack explains that in the training environments of his youth and junior days, "homophobic slurs were thrown around" frequently, uncensured by coaches.

Since graduating into the senior ranks, he has witnessed far fewer such comments - with one striking exception. "There was an instance mid-race when a bi lad was called a f*****t by another rider in the bunch. It was enough to put him off cycling - he doesn't race anymore." It's a graphic reminder of the impact of homophobic abuse, and I begin to understand why Jack is cautious about revealing his identity as a queer man.

Then again, given his awareness of Davies's positive experience, what exactly is holding him back? "I knew you were going to ask me that," Jack says with a shy smile. "Nothing stops me - I just don't feel the need." He hesitates. "I don't know... I guess I'm just in a good place now." His faltering response seems to hint at an inner conflict. Then, unprompted, he adds, "I guess it's kind of selfish, in a way, because if I were open, it might help others coming up. But once you do it, there's a big label over you."

That label, he worries, would bring expectations and scrutiny, making it harder, as he puts it, "just to be myself everywhere". Acknowledging that he is more open and less guarded around his university friends, Jack sketches what sounds like a compartmentalised life - shifting between identities depending on who he is with, perhaps a habit shaped more by necessity than choice.

I mention how Davies told me his parents had always been so relaxed about sexuality that he never felt the need to come out to them. When I ask Jack if his family have been similarly accepting, his answer is quiet but firm: "My parents don't know," he says, casting a stark new light on his reluctance to be named in this piece.

Isn't this the real reason, or at least the biggest one? "Yeah, that would also be a bit awkward," he says, letting out a nervous laugh. Does he think they would react badly, or is he just not ready to tell them? "Both," he replies. "I've sat with them enough times in front of the TV when a gay character comes on-it's not a great response."

His tone is matter-of-fact, but the implication is heavy. It's a quiet, sobering reminder that while cycling is becoming broadly more welcoming for LGBTQ+ people, the same cannot always be said for the places they call home.

Over the past seven years, Armitt has come to terms with the reality of life with diabetes. Among the 370,000 type 1 diabetics in the UK, there are few professional athletes, but Armitt – upon signing for US UCI ProTeam Novo Nordisk this year – proudly joined that list. The Glaswegian’s rise to cycling’s elite ranks has been fast and unconventional, coming on the back of a highly promising fledgling career as a runner. It was not diabetes that derailed his running, Armitt stresses, but something even more difficult to overcome: a body goal that became an eating disorder.

He pinpoints a day in Lisbon, Portugal, as the start of his “downward spiral”. It was late 2019, and Armitt, then 17 and one of the best runners in the country, was representing Great Britain at the European Cross-Country Championships. “I was a bit taller and bigger, with more muscle,” he recalls looking around, comparing himself to the other runners. “I remember seeing the body type of the guys who were winning and being, like, ‘Oh, I need to look like that.’ ”

Though already lean, Armitt decided he needed to be 10kg lighter, and began restricting his intake. “I was calorie counting every day for two years, meticulously,” he says. “I couldn’t eat one blueberry over. It was really toxic.” Looking back, he reckons he was burning 4,000-5,000kcal a day while determinedly consuming far fewer. “I restricted [my intake] to 1,000 [kcal] a day for the first five weeks, and even after that, I’d never let myself eat what I actually needed.”

Injury stricken

Within weeks the teenager had dropped to 63kg, making him clinically underweight for his 6ft 1in height. He suffered from extreme fatigue and felt dizzy on short walks. “I was red-lining all the time,” Armitt says, remembering the added pressures during the Covid pandemic. “I was leading this completely isolated life,” he explains, “not wanting to do anything, and just worrying about my training and my eating.”

Having grown accustomed to diabetes, Armitt was used to analysing everything he ate. If his blood sugar was too high, he would inject a little more insulin. Too low, and he would be risking hypoglycaemia. Most people with type 1 diabetes have to take slow-acting insulin to keep their blood glucose levels steady. Armitt’s glucose stores were so depleted that he needed no insulin at all for two years. “My body was craving carbs so much that my levels stayed low, and I was living like I didn’t have diabetes.” This did not represent good glucose control but a state of chronic depletion.

The lack of available energy caused a gradual erosion of bone density. He began picking up stress fractures in his feet and hips. And yet there were times when, despite the physical frailties he was inflicting on himself, Armitt ran fast. Very fast.

“Occasionally there would be a day when I was really on it,” he says. “One such day, when I was 17, everything came together and I ran 14 minutes dead [at the 2020 Armagh International 5km].” This remains the sixth-fastest 5k of all time by an under-20 British male. Armitt thought to himself “Wow, I’m doing the right thing” – but soon the injuries and exhaustion returned. “I’d manage one good race a year and then be injured for the rest of the season.”

He didn’t know it at the time, but the 2021 European Cross-Country Championships, held in Dublin, Ireland, would be his last elite running race. Having raced bikes as a child, Armitt held ambitions in triathlon through his teens, and travelled to Spain shortly after the Euros for a cycling training camp. There, he crashed, fracturing his hip socket as he hit the tarmac. “I had five weeks on crutches, and I couldn’t really walk for 10 weeks,” he says. “After that, getting back to running was really, really difficult.”

The months that followed the crash ended up being one of the most mentally challenging periods of Armitt’s life, but they also brought a “turning point”, he explains. “I realised that I needed to start looking after myself and managing everything better. I think that was the defining moment where I realised my body couldn’t cope with all the injuries.”

It took more than a year for Armitt to fully recover from the broken hip. Tired of being in pain, he found himself “fed up” with running and triathlon, and lacking a purpose for his competitive energy. Then, in the summer of 2023, he watched the UCI World Championships in his hometown of Glasgow – the biggest ever edition of the event, spanning all disciplines – and an idea took root. “I didn’t tell many people,” he says, “but I thought, ‘Maybe I want to try and go into cycling.’”

New beginnings

At 21 years old, Armitt was a relative latecomer to bunch racing. He began as a cat-four racer and signed up to compete in regional events – “just whatever I could do,” he says, “as I was starting from scratch.” He then approached British racing outfit Project 1, who saw his potential and took him abroad, entering him into races in France, Italy and Belgium.

Armitt remembers one event in particular, the under-23 Trofeo Piva in Italy’s Venetian hills, as a watershed moment. Having taken up the day’s breakaway, he went solo with 50km to go. The move proved fruitless ultimately – he ended up finishing 41st – but it succeeded in turning the heads of a handful of professional teams, including one WorldTour scout, who made enquiries about his power numbers.

Armitt’s new career as a cyclist began to blossom. He increased his calorie intake to fuel long rides and was managing his diabetes normally with insulin injections. Aware of Novo Nordisk, the all-diabetic US team, he contacted them directly, and was invited to a testing camp in Tuscany, Italy, where he blew the coaches away. “In a test up the Col de la Madone, I did 450 watts for 27 minutes,” he says. “Power wise, I was a lot higher than most riders, but I don’t have their experience, or racecraft, or efficiency.”

His new team boss Vassili Davidenko disagrees. “His racing instincts are good,” says the Novo Nordisk manager. “After he came to the talent ID last July, we decided to throw him straight in at the Tour of Bulgaria in August with our development team, literally a couple of weeks later. He started racing aggressively immediately, achieved sixth on the final stage and eleventh on GC... in his first race. We took notice.”

Today, only 18 months after his first senior bunch race, Armitt is one of the most promising riders in his squad’s 20-strong roster. His blood glucose is regularly monitored by his team doctor, and his weight is now comfortably within a healthy range. The eating disorder of his running days is a distant memory, though he is aware of the risk of falling back into old behaviours. “I don’t count my calories anymore, and I have a much better relationship with food, but you still wonder, ‘What if I was a kilo lighter?’ ” he says. “You have days where you think, ‘Maybe I should just have more salad today.’ And then you think, ‘No, no, that’s silly.’ The thoughts are always there, it’s just trying to ignore them now.”

Reflecting on his troubled late teens, what lessons is he taking forward as he aspires to reach the WorldTour? “Looking back, you realise how obvious the mistakes are, but you can’t beat yourself up about them,” he says. “I know it was wrong, but it’s happened, and I’ve learned from it. I know not to let it happen again, and now I’ll carry that into the rest of my career.”

This feature originally appeared in Cycling Weekly magazine on 13th March 2025. Subscribe now and never miss an issue.

Right now, over at Balfe's Bikes they have a huge Spring Clearance sale that includes big reductions on Bontrager goodies, from the best cycling helmets to its range of cycling shoes worn by the Lidl-Trek WorldTour road cycling team. Below, I've selected some of the Bontrager sale highlights which includes some great bundled deals including shoes and Shimano pedals with big reductions.

Get Bontrager Circuit Road Shoe and Shimano R550 Pedals at Balfe's Bikes for just £125.

The Balfe's Bikes sale is not just on Bontrager, they have across-site discounts including some of the best road bikes and gravel bikes from Trek, Specialized and Giant, plus clothing, accessories, tools and components. So if you're refreshing your cycling kit for summer then it's worth checking out, I'd suggest you move fast, with reductions this big they won't be around for long.

There's also an extra £10 off when you spend £100 or more and use code: SAVE10 at checkout, and this includes to discounted items.

Balfe's Bikes Sale: Bontrager Top Picks

I don’t need other cyclists to tell me what I already know. Deep down, I’m acutely aware that I’m a cheat. I slink into café stops avoiding eye contact, tormented with self-conscious angst, praying there’ll be a shady corner where I can hide my e-bike from the critical gaze of fellow cyclists.

When exposed, I’m unwaveringly apologetic. “This old thing? I rarely take it out; I’m only riding it today because my real bike has ‘insert implausibly fictitious mechanical failure here’.” The reaction from other cyclists is rarely rude, at least not vocally. Yet, their expressions always reveal a world-weary mix of pity and contempt. To them, I’m not a roadie; I’m a fraud. A tragic, wannabe, e-bike-owning loser.

I understand how I feel, but I don’t understand why I feel disappointed in myself every time I hit my Specialized Creo’s ‘on’ button or why other cyclists should care. If I’m not competing with anyone, how can I be cheating? Why do I feel the need to justify my choice of bike?

I’m not alone; the market for lightweight performance e-bikes is notoriously challenging. While commuters, mountain bikers and cargo-bike riders are increasingly splashing the serious cash required to get hold of one of the best electric bikes, roadies, it seems, don’t want to know.

Who's cheating who?

“There are multiple factors at play,” confirms Daniel Theil, Head of Product Management E-Mobility at TQ-Systems. “Mountain bikers tend to measure themselves not just by physical fitness but also by technical skills, speed on descents, and style. Road cycling, on the other hand, often places fitness at the centre of identity – so for some, riding an e-road bike does feel like ‘cheating’.

“But I think the core issue lies somewhere else – in the design and experience of the bikes. For decades, road cyclists have been conditioned to value aesthetics, sound, aerodynamics and weight. While e-road bikes have improved significantly in recent years, many are still a noticeable departure from their analog counterparts.

"In the e-MTB world, mass adoption really took off once bikes became genuinely trail-capable, lighter, and visually appealing. I believe the same tipping point is coming for e-road – and we at TQ are working hard to accelerate that.”

TQ-Systems develops electric motors that are comparatively low in power but impressively small and quiet. I’ve ridden the TQ-equipped road-going BMC Roadmachine AMP, as well as the brand’s e-gravel bikes, the Roadmachine AMP X and URS AMP. All three boast an incredibly natural ride feel courtesy of the TQ-HPR50 drive units concealed in their bottom bracket areas. Power is delivered progressively to provide an unobtrusive, near-silent ride that flatters your own output rather than overwhelming it.

“We want to support the ride, not define it,” is how Theil describes the sensation, which, judging by my experience, is pretty accurate. My Specialized Creo – and its Specialized SL motor – offers similar benefits, but having ridden both systems, the TQ motor feels more refined and less invasive.

Riding the URS AMP on a tough off-road course in the Swiss Alps last summer was an epiphany for me. As an average at best gravel rider, the additional power was no longer ‘nice to have’, it was transformative, enabling me to tackle loose, rocky inclines so steep they would otherwise have become joyless hike-a-bike sections. I put it to Theil that gravel could be the gateway drug for drop bar e-bikes.

“I see gravel as a bridge,” says Theil. “For many mountain bikers, a gravel bike is their first foray into drop bars. Because of that crossover, gravel riders often come with an open mindset and may already have positive experiences with e-MTBs. That helps break down the psychological barriers.

“E-road and e-gravel have equal potential, but e-gravel might gain traction faster because of this. The gravel community tends to be more relaxed about tradition and more focused on adventure and versatility.

“In contrast, many hobby road cyclists still cling to UCI rules and norms – even though they’re not racing. Sometimes that mindset limits the joy they could be experiencing with more modern, adaptable equipment.”

Why do we cling to seemingly irrelevant norms that deny us the pleasure of riding an e-bike? I suspect the answer lies somewhere between our riding glasses and the back of our helmets.

The Roadie mindset

“Cheating can be defined as acting dishonestly or unfairly to gain advantage,” says clinical psychologist Dr Julia Frearson. “The act of making something easier to gain advantage can manifest feelings of guilt, shame and anxiety.”

Whether a cyclist is concerned about gaining an advantage depends on their mindset and the context of the activity.

“If we look at the mindset of the average Joe cycling to the shops versus an athlete’s, the drivers are very different. Cycling to the shops or commuting are task-driven activities, whereas sports-related performance is ego-driven. If you spend much time around athletes, you’ll recognise that their mindsets are high-performance-driven, which is rarely refined solely in that area. They tend to be high achievers in other parts of their lives too, and they have high expectations of themselves.

“There’s a fear of failure that comes with this personality type, as well as a puritanical ideal that’s associated with road cycling – the idea that they must be the simplest version of themselves, with the lightest bike, self-propelling themselves up the biggest hills without using any adaptations.

“They’ve selected this activity because it fits with their self-identity as a high achiever. Failure of not being good enough at an ego-driven task can promote feelings of shame, which in male society, often manifests as anger. This anger is often redirected at something external, likely the bike and its modification. ‘It’s not me, it’s the bike’ – that kind of thing.”

While I recognise these traits, I suggest to Dr Frearson that many roadies out on a Sunday club ride are unlikely to consider themselves athletes in the same vein as Wout Van Aert or Mathieu Van der Poel.

“Shame is one of seven core emotions we’ve evolved to experience as humans,” explains Dr Frearson. “It's there to help us not be deselected from the tribe, to ensure we don't isolate ourselves, make ourselves vulnerable. So, we stay in a position of survival.”

Now, this is something I can identify with. Within the world of cycling, roadies must be the most tribal group by some margin.

“Shame and guilt are interesting emotions that have a similar function,” says Dr Frearson. “I take your point about many cyclists not being at a pro level, but ‘weekend warriors’ – and I include runners and many other amateur sports enthusiasts here - represent a group of high performers relative to the rest of the population. They like the stripped-back, bare ideal, the ‘look what my body can do, look what I can achieve, look how good I am’ mentality.

“As soon as you downsize that by adding a supplementary ingredient – in this case an electric motor – it evokes a sense of shame and guilt. ‘I’m no longer as good. I can’t rely on my body. I’m not relying on my policy. I don’t know what to do’.”

Dr Frearson and I discuss a curious phenomenon we’ve both encountered frequently - roadies who are very vocal in their approval of e-bikes, provided they are for someone else.

“Ask a roadie if they are in favour of (legal) e-bikes and, in my experience, many will say ‘they’re incredible, they enable people who would never otherwise get on a bike to climb a hill and see the world’. Ask them if they would ride one and the likely response is ‘no way, they’re not for me, they’re for unfit, lazy people’.

“One rider I spoke to recently also mentioned that, for him, the enjoyment he finds in cycling derives from the simplicity of his bike and the pleasure of using his body to power his progress with as little distraction as possible.

“So, for anyone who identifies as a roadie, or who is emulating that to be part of the tribe, it's going to be difficult for them to accept such an intrusive adaptation, one that creates a separation between ‘man and bike’, so to speak.”

As e-bikes evolve, the technology that TQ-Systems and its competitors are developing to make them feel more natural and less intrusive will erode the separation Dr Frearson refers to. However, overcoming the uncomfortable emotions that stem from using an additional power source is a bigger hill to climb.

“The difficulty of trying to convince individuals in a community that rejects adaptations for fear of being seen as a failure, or fear of eliciting that sense of shame, and therefore rejection from the community, cannot be underestimated,” says Dr Frearson. “Changing culture, changing group identity, changing tribes is an immense piece of work that will take a long time.

“It’s no surprise the industry is currently more focussed on marketing e-bikes to groups who are more receptive – commuters, mountain bikers and ordinary folk who just want to enjoy the experience of riding out into nature.”

That last point reminds me of gravel - as a discipline that’s less tribal it’s perhaps the biggest hope for drop bar e-bikes. There is, however, another way in, one that could potentially enable lightweight performance e-bikes to find favour more rapidly.

I’m fortunate to own a handful of bikes including my Specialized e-bike. I ride them all regularly, and I’m fit enough to pedal any of them in place of the Creo. So, why did I buy it?

Living in a hilly area, my e-bike is fabulous for recovery rides, windy conditions and days when I’m just not ‘feeling it’. In fact, over my regular 75km, 1,300m Sunday circuit, my average power (discounting the motor) is within a few watts whether I ride my all-road bike or my Creo. I just cover the distance 20 minutes faster on my e-bike. Using e-bikes for training is gaining a foothold, but if more pros were seen using them – role models, if you like – their popularity could escalate.

“Group identity is a thing,’ says Dr Frearson. “We’re so easily guided by what happens around us socially and the narratives given to us. We just step into what we're told - we're really not that discerning – and before we know it, we’re following the next trend without even noticing it’s happened. All it takes is a charismatic leader to change the pack.”

This is reassuring. If we can get Tour de France champion Tadej Pogačar on an e-bike, then I can stop feeling so wretched about myself and other roadies can enjoy the pleasures of e-biking guilt-free. Bring it on!

REDs occurs when an athlete fails to eat enough to fuel their training and everyday life. The condition presents an array of symptoms. Some of the most common are extreme fatigue, frequent illness and injury, poor performance or decreased adaptation to training, depression or anxiety, sleep issues and menstrual cycle dysfunction or, in men, fewer morning erections. The prevalence of REDs is unknown, with studies reporting a range of 23-80% in females and 15-70% in males. In an attempt to tighten the research, a 2023 IOC REDs consensus subgroup published a paper standardising REDs research methods.

Understanding REDs requires an appreciation of how the body allocates fuel. When energy is running low, the body prioritises movement. This makes sense from an evolutionary standpoint. If you are being chased by a tiger, running away is top priority! The calories left over after exercise represent your ‘energy availability’ (EA).

If they are insufficient, you are said to be in low energy availability (LEA). If you are persistently in LEA, you develop REDs. The body ‘turns down’ biological processes to save energy, causing REDs symptoms. A common consequence of REDs is a loss of bone density and subsequent increased fracture risk. One of the first low energy adaptations is decreased bone turnover. Our bodies should be constantly rebuilding bone, but this gets deprioritised in an energy deficit. As bone density decreases, it’s first classified as osteopenia and then osteoporosis.

Varied symptoms

One of the challenges of identifying REDs is that there isn’t a single tell-tale symptom. REDs presents differently in different bodies. The best guess is that the pattern reflects a person’s unique genetics. Loss of menstrual periods in women and fewer morning erections in men can be telltale signs of REDs. These symptoms have been emphasised in REDs education because they are so obvious. However, it’s important not to over-rely on these symptoms.

Women who are using hormonal birth control do not have true menstrual bleeds, only a withdrawal bleed. This bleed cannot be used to assess hormonal health. Likewise, it’s possible for women to bleed monthly while experiencing subclinical ovulatory disturbance (SOD). These are cycles where ovulation may or may not occur, but critically, progesterone does not rise adequately during the luteal phase (second half of cycle). SOD can be the result of LEA. Dr Nicky Keay is a medical doctor and hormones specialist. “Loss of period may be just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to adaptive change to low energy availability.” She suggests basal body temperature tracking as a non-invasive means of monitoring hormone health.

Williams’s REDs was marked by the loss of her periods, a condition called hypothalamic amenorrhea (HA). She first brought this up to a doctor in 2014, when she came off the pill and her periods did not return. The doctor told her this was normal for athletes, which was incorrect, as HA is not normal or healthy for anyone. “I was like, if the doctor is telling me it’s fine, it must be fine,” said Williams. Eventually, in 2018, while preparing for the Commonwealth Games, she underwent medical testing with her federation, reporting that she hadn’t had a period in “a few years”. The doctor suggested a bone-density scan, which found osteoporosis and osteopenia in Williams’s lower spine and hips. Even so, she was cleared to compete, and even won a silver medal, but the doctor stayed in touch.

“I had a really good season on the road. I was racing really well, but this doctor kept reaching out to me,” said Williams. “He kept saying, ‘You need to get your period back. Your bones are not good.’ I was just sort of brushing it off. I felt fine.” Then came the crash. “I realised, if just slipping on a corner fractures three bones, my bones are obviously not good,” Williams recalled. “What are they going to be like when I’m 60?”

While Williams’s REDs presentation was fairly typical for a woman, mine wasn’t. I never lost my period. I had several REDs symptoms: extreme fatigue, anxiety and panic, hot flushes, night sweats, frequent bonking and hypoglycaemia episodes, poor circulation, and GI issues. When I lost a lot of weight, friends worried, but we were all reassured by my period, as we assumed menstruation was a guarantor of health. In fact, I had REDs for six years. As Keay explained, I likely had subclinical ovulatory disturbance, which negatively affects one’s lipid profile.

REDs symptoms

The cycling community urgently needs to increase our awareness of REDs. Coaches and physios ought to be able to recite REDs symptoms by heart. Not all athletes with REDs present the classic symptoms – so it can be hard to spot.

Familiarise yourself with these warning signs: Menstrual dysfunction in women, decreased frequency of morning erections in men, fatigue, decreased libido, anxiety/depression, frequent illness, GI dysfunction, frequent injuries, reduced performance/ training adaptation, impaired neurocognitive function, sleep disturbances

REDs and women

REDs can affect anyone who underfuels: riders at all levels – professional, amateur, junior, elite and Masters – men and women. However, research and clinical experience suggest that REDs disproportionately affects women. Performance nutritionist Rachel Chesters is a PhD researcher at the University of Birmingham specialising in low energy availability and REDs. “Females seem to be more sensitive to low energy availability,” said Chesters. “One theory is that reproduction is more energetically taxing on a female body. It makes sense for women’s reproductive systems to be compromised by LEA. If you don’t have enough energy to sustain yourself, it’s going to be really challenging to grow, carry and feed a baby as well.’

Women are physiologically more vulnerable and we experience greater societal pressure to be weight conscious. Consider the teenage boy who during his growth spurt eats vast quantities of food. His parents laugh and add more food to the grocery trolley. Meanwhile, most girls are taught, mother-to-daughter, to eat in moderation and avoid weight gain.

“We know there is a clear difference between men and women in the prevalence of disordered eating, which is a significant contributing factor to REDs,” said Chesters. However, the nutritionist suspects REDs is under-reported in men. “The symptoms are more obvious in women,’ said Chesters, “and it might be more culturally acceptable for women to say, ‘I am struggling with this’, because more female athletes are speaking about it.”

Disordered eating

REDs is divided into two categories: intentional, where an athlete restricts intake with the intent of losing weight, and unintentional, where an athlete inadvertently under-fuels, often as a result of miscalculating their caloric needs. Many athletes make the mistake of following nutritional advice aimed at less active people. “Think of guidance urging low sugar or no processed foods,” said Chesters. “[Some athletes] respond by eating a high-volume, high-fibre sort of diet. It keeps them really full, may cause stomach issues around training, and makes it difficult to eat enough overall.”

Williams’s descent into REDs was entirely without intent. “I thought what I was eating was fine,” she said. “Healthy food and vegetables, all really low-calorie – but it just wasn’t enough to supply the demands of training. I was never really underweight. My body was so stressed that it was probably holding onto what I did eat.” For an athlete in unintentional REDs, Chesters educates and addresses their misconceptions, helping them to change their eating habits, restore energy balance and recover.

In contrast to Williams’s, my REDs was caused by intentional calorie restriction. In 2018, I began working with a nutritionist who taught me ‘carbohydrate periodisation’ including how to lose weight by decreasing carbohydrates. I clustered all my carbohydrate intake before, during and after training, eating low-carb at all other times. The process, subsequent six-kilo weight loss, and temporary performance improvement proved addictive. For the better part of two years, I was consumed by my eating disorder. In 2020, I worked with a sports psychologist and toned down my disordered behaviours. However, I was not assessed for REDs. My metabolism having slowed, I returned to my original weight – but unknowingly I remained in REDs.

“Disordered eating behaviours include restrictive eating, fasting, self-inducing vomiting or limiting food groups, such as low-carb diets,” said Chesters. “In practice, disordered eating also involves more normalseeming food restrictions, whether that’s small portions, restricting foods believed to be ‘bad’ or too energydense, or so-called clean-eating.” It can be hard to distinguish between disciplined ‘athlete eating’ and disordered eating. “For me it’s about whether there is underlying pathology to the behavior,” said Chesters. “I look at the intent, frequency, duration and the impact of the behaviour on the athlete’s physical, mental and emotional health.”

The road to recovery

Finding qualified assistance is one of the greatest challenges of REDs recovery. It is a ‘young’ condition, first recognised by the IOC in 2014. Odds are, your GP has never heard of REDs. A REDs care team should include a physician, nutritionist and ideally a psychologist with experience in eating disorders. The best resource for locating REDs providers in the UK and US is ‘Project RED-S’ (red-s.com). They also provide an informative letter that athletes can take to their GP.

REDs recovery entails correcting the energy imbalance. The nutritionist helps the athlete with volume, food choices and timing. A doctor may track recovery via regular blood work. Athletes may take a break from training and/or racing, depending on their health and life circumstances. Coincidentally, Williams and I took a similar recovery approach. For three to four months, we didn’t race or do any intensity. We reduced volume, added rest days and massively scaled-up fuelling, especially around training.

Recovery from malnourishment or an eating disorder often involves temporary weight gain to above one’s healthy weight. Both Williams and I experienced this. “I gained weight as I knew I would, but from my research, I felt this was the fastest way to recover,” said Williams. “I had days where I felt really bad about my body and it was a struggle, but I just kept telling myself my health was more important than cycling.” This ‘overshoot’ weight usually returns to healthy weight within a year of recovery. “Initially, my climbing did suffer,” added Williams, “but I was still really strong on the flats. I had some really good races, and I still had really good power. I slowly lost the weight and could sustain the power.”

For Williams and me, REDs took a big part of our careers and our health. However, recovery yielded rewards. Williams raced five more years as a pro. I’ve gained a level of psychological health that I couldn’t have envisioned a couple years ago. I fully agree with Williams when she says: “Health is more important than cycling.”

This feature originally appeared in Cycling Weekly magazine. Subscribe now and never miss an issue.

How do you train for full-gas racing?

I’m a guy who needs to race my legs into shape. For example, before the Classics I rode the Volta ao Algarve where there were lots of small hills that took 90 seconds to two minutes, so I was pushing 500 watts a lot. Those frequent high VO2 max efforts in races really help make me stronger.

What special training do you do at home?

A big change in cycling has been heat training, and so twice a week I’ll have a hot 40°C bath immediately after training. For me, it’s the same benefit as riding on the rollers for 30 minutes with a winter jacket on.

What’s advice would you give an ambitious amateur?

I see a lot of guys copy everything at once from the pros, but they really have to take things one at a time and build up slowly, as the body has to react to each session. Also, it’s not only about power and numbers – listen to your body.

How did your training change when you moved from Bora-Hansgrohe to UAE in 2024?

I know what I need to do to get in good shape, and to be honest my training hasn’t changed a lot. But it is true that with this team I ride for longer and in the upper zones, but not as much in the VO2 max zones as people think.

The team is famous for its Zone 2 training. Do you like it?

I do, yes. We often ride in Zone 2 for anywhere between one to five hours, and I think it helps our race preparation. For sure, after a few hours in this zone it can get tiring and hard, but you have to get over it, and boredom is not a big problem for me.

Are you mentally switched on all year?

Nutrition has become so important in the cycling world and we have a nutrition app. Before the Tour de France, for example, I’m strict and follow it 100%, but while some guys can be like this all year, I need a bit of freedom, time to unblock myself and eat what I want.

How do you respond to setbacks?

Any injury is mentally hard, as you always want to get back a s fast as possible. Thankfully, there are many alternative things we can do to maintain fitness.

Quick fire round

Dream race to win: Paris-Roubaix. Last year I was fourth, but Mathieu van der Poel was super-strong. In 2019, I was second. Let’s see how my shape is this year.

Your nickname: Giraffe

Coffee stop snack: Strawberry cake

Guilty pleasure: Döner kebab. Or pizza. Can’t choose.

Favourite sport that’s not cycling: Fishing

What’s worse, saddle sore or bonking? Saddle sore

If your bike could talk, what would it say? Don’t put too much pressure on me.

Most competitive team-mate? It could be anyone on this team!

Go-to cycling proverb? If you don’t give fuel to the fire, it won’t burn. It’s the same on a bike – if you don’t fuel, you can’t keep riding fast.

This feature originally appeared in Cycling Weekly magazine. Subscribe now and never miss an issue.

Week in training

• The week: 30 December - 5 January
• Location: Zurich, Switzerland
• Training for: Tour Down Under

Monday: AM: Threshold efforts, PM: Heat training In the morning; I had a three-hour ride, interspersed with threshold efforts. These consisted of four blocks of 12 minutes at threshold pace, with 20-second seated or out-of-the-saddle accelerations every two minutes. The purpose of this was to simulate being on a climb in a race, following multiple attacks and being able to handle the changing rhythm. I then did an hour’s heat acclimatisation training in my living room, wearing lots of clothes: a rain jacket, winter bibs, and a hat. Total riding: 4hr

Tuesday: New Year’s Eve AM: Endurance and heat training PM: Gym; I had an endurance ride in the morning for three and a half hours, and then did another hour of heat training, as I was trying to prepare for the hot weather in Australia. In the afternoon I went to the gym and did some strength work and leg exercises including squats and deadlifts. I also did some jumping exercises to improve my explosivity. Total riding: 4hr 30min

Wednesday: New Year’s Day Rest day; Unfortunately, I didn’t have a New Year’s Eve party, and instead decided to start the year seriously, as I wanted to do well in Australia. I went into the sauna twice for 30 minutes to work on my heat acclimatisation. Total riding: 0hr

Thursday: AM: Over-unders PM: Heat training; My first ride of 2025 was an over-under session. Each set was two minutes at 90% of FTP, then one minute at 115% of FTP, repeated six times – so 18 minutes in total, and I did two blocks. I almost always do my intervals on climbs. When I got home, I did an hour’s heat training – it has a similar effect to altitude for me. Total riding: 4hr 45min

Friday AM: Endurance and heat PM: Gym; I began with an easy endurance ride for two-and-a-half hours, and though I do tend to prefer intensity days, it’s also nice to not have to press the lap button and instead just enjoy riding. I jumped back on the turbo for some more heat training later. And then finally I went to the gym for an hour. Total riding: 3hr 30min

Saturday: Threshold indoors and out; The weather was rubbish so after two hours 45 minutes, I came indoors to do three sets of 12-minute threshold turbo efforts and then another hour of heat training. I ride hard for 10 minutes, check my temperature after 15 minutes, and then ride easy for the remaining time. Total riding: 5hr 15min

Sunday Motor-pacing: A simple two-hour endurance ride followed by 90 minutes of motorpacing to replicate race accelerations. When I got home I went back on the turbo for an hour of heat training. My form was so good that I was doubting whether my power meter was correct, but it turned out, a few weeks later in Australia, that it definitely was. Total riding: 4hr 30min

TOTAL RIDING: 26hr 30min

Quick fire Q&A

What’s your cycling background? My father is a cyclist, and my older brother by five years [Timon] was also a pro cyclist. I raced my first cyclocross race aged 13 and fell in love with it.

How did cyclo-cross help you? I learned so many technical and bikehandling skills, but I think the explosivity and punch was the biggest thing I took from it.

How has your training changed in recent years? Since joining EF [in 2024] I’ve changed my coach and increased my volume and intensity. There’s a better plan now, with more focused goals during the season and build-up and rest periods. I’ve also added motor-pacing and heat training.

Tell us about your winning start at the Tour Down Under I had a good feeling going into it but my shape felt too good to be true. I messaged my coach Emma Trott before Willunga Hill and said I could win the stage – and I never say that, as normally I’m the one doubting things. But I did win it and it was the best feeling ever.

How do you thrive under pressure? One thing I learned especially at the Olympics is to ride and live in the moment. That could be positioning, relaxing, sitting back, eating and drinking, but always being focused on the here and now. I always used to be very nervous before races, but now I have techniques to deal with it and focus on the present.

How are you preparing for the Classics? By focusing on my sprint at the end of races, as well as continuing to work on my VO2 max, as the short and intensive stuff will be important, particularly in the Ardennes. I’ll do some motor-pacing too to get speed into my legs.

This feature originally appeared in Cycling Weekly magazine. Subscribe now and never miss an issue.

At the start in Compiègne, the men's teams arrived to a sprinkling of rain. The mechanics lined the bikes along the road, and as the riders readied themselves, sheltered in their buses, Cycling Weekly roamed the paddocks with a camera.

Here are the most interesting set-ups we saw, including some eye-catchingly skinny 26mm tyres, a 62-tooth chainring, and unreleased 'smart wheels'.

Monster chainrings

Keeping his title from last year, Josh Tarling boasted the biggest chainring at this edition of Paris-Roubaix, running a dinnerplate-sized 62-tooth, made by Digirit.

The Brit, tall in stature and known for his time trialling prowess, prefers a 1x (single chainring) set-up for flatter races, where he can hold high power.

Tarling wasn’t the only Ineos Grenadiers rider running a custom chainring. Connor Swift, too, opted for a non-sponsor-specific single chainring, his one made by aero brand Drag2Zero.

After Tarling’s, the next biggest chainring we saw was a 58-tooth, courtesy of Gonzalo Serrano (Movistar).

Tyre inflation system

In the run-up to this year’s Paris-Roubaix, it was no secret that Visma-Lease a Bike had opted unanimously for adjustable tyre pressure systems.

The entirety of the women’s team used them on Saturday, including Pauline Ferrand-Prévot who hailed the effectiveness of the technology, managed in the wheel's hub.

Made by Netherlands-based company Gravaa, the systems allow riders to inflate and deflate their tyres with the touch of a button on their handlebars. This means they can drop pressure on the cobbled sectors, and increase it for less rolling resistance on the tarmac.

Taking no risks, Wout van Aert relied on five spare bikes, shared across two follow cars. He had the Gravaa system equipped to four of the bikes, and kept the fifth with standard valves.

The team also took extra precautions with their tubeless tyres, gluing them generously to the rims.

A range of tyre widths

Back in the 90s, it was standard to see 25mm tyres at Paris-Roubaix. Nowadays, with better technology, and more of an emphasis on absorbing the jagged terrain, 32mm tends to be the norm.

We spotted a wide range of choices outside the team buses. The narrowest tyres we saw belonged to Red Bull-Bora Hansgrohe’s Ryan Mullen, who picked skinny 26mm Turbo Cottons. All of his teammates ran 32mm Mondo tyres.

Some teams went for 30mm tyres, namely Lotto, but most went for 32mm.

The biggest tyres we saw, as we did at the women’s race, were 35mm. This extra-wide choice was taken by Stefan Küng (Groupama-FDJ), Intermarché-Wanty riders Taco van der Hoorn and Laurenz Rex, and the entirety of Bahrain Victorious.

The picture below, of Rex’s bike, shows just how little clearance his 35mm tyres - a prototype made by Hutchinson - had with his frame. His mechanic told us there were some worries within the team about the tiny gap, concerned that “a small stone or even some dirt” could get lodged in between.

Aero bikes with gravel wheels

One of the most interesting things we saw at the women’s race was Uno-X’s unique pairing of an aero bike with off-road-specific wheels.

The men’s team went for the same set-up on Sunday, combining the Ridley Noah Fast 3.0 aerobike, with DT Swiss’s GRC 1100 gravel wheels.

Tudor, also supplied by DT Swiss, likewise went for the gravel wheels, which are designed to be more shock absorbent, but are still made from lightweight carbon.

Deep rims

Uno-X weren’t alone in showcasing aero tech at Paris-Roubaix. The race, after all, is a pan-flat smash across northern France, with average speeds in recent years nearing 50km/h.

With minimal wind forecast, many teams went for deep-section rims, looking for aero gains. The deepest we saw belonged to Groupama-FDJ’s Stefan Küng, who paired 62mm-deep rims, with 35mm-wide tyres. Fast, yet comfortable.

Smart wheels

As expected, the teams supplied with Zipp wheels – Q36.5 and Movistar – used the brand’s new, unreleased ‘smart wheels’.

The technology was first spotted on Tom Pidcock’s bike at Omloop Het Nieuwsblad, and has been used throughout the Classics, including at Paris-Roubaix Femmes on Saturday.

Although the smart wheels don’t self-inflate like Visma-Lease a Bike’s Gravaa system, patent information tells us they give feedback on points such as tyre pressure, rim health, and road surface. They are made as a mash-up of Zipp wheels and TyreWiz sensors – both brands owned by components manufacturer SRAM.

Other tidbits

Tadej Pogačar’s bike was tough to get near at the start in Compiègne, his team bus crowded by fans. Fortunately, we followed him during his recon on Friday, and spotted some interesting things in his set-up.

The first is that the world champion has small tabs of grippy padding attached under his hoods (above), stopping his fingers rubbing on the shifters across the cobbles.

Pogačar, and the rest of UAE Team Emirates, also used Colnago’s V4Rs bike, a versatile model ridden in Grand Tour mountain stages, and now the rough cobbles of Roubaix. Long gone are the days of cobble-specific bikes, like Specialized’s Roubaix, it seems.

Punctures – and therefore wheel changes – are inevitable at a race like Paris-Roubaix. To help make changes easier, Lotto left the thru axle levers on the wheels, meaning they can unscrew them quickly by hand.

And finally, this bar tape over at Intermarché-Wanty caught our attention. It’s grippy, padded, and appears somewhat shock absorbent, too. Most importantly, though, it looks very cool.

With its unique and unrelenting cobbled sectors, Paris-Roubaix always promises to bring a sleigh full of interesting tech. This year is proving no different.

Ahead of the fifth edition of the women's race, Cycling Weekly wandered from team bus to team bus, armed with a camera and an inquisitive mind. Here's what we found, from gravel wheels and differing tyre widths, to aero bikes and adjustable pressure systems.

Aero bikes with gravel wheels

Ridley's Noah Fast 3.0 aero bike, ridden by Uno-X this season, is one of the most aggressively designed bikes we've seen in the peloton.

Its futuristic geometry boasts longer tube shapes in the forks, dropped seat stays, and an eye-catchingly deep headtube (pictured below). According to Ridley, it's 8.5 watts faster than the previous model.

And yet, while aero is key in a flat race like Paris-Roubaix, it has to be balanced with comfort over the cobbles.

Uno-X set out to achieve this by pairing the Noah Fast with gravel wheels – DT Swiss's GRC 1100. Made from lightweight carbon, the wheels are designed to absorb shocks, and are said to be the "ultimate off-road" companion by their makers.

30-35mm tyres

Tyre width choice has long been a point of contention in the cobbled Classics, and nowhere more so than at Paris-Roubaix. Racing over fiercely jagged cobbles, riders prefer a wider surface area than they do on the road, hoping to roll safely over the more dangerous stretches.

At Paris-Roubaix Femmes avec Zwift on Saturday, Cycling Weekly saw riders choosing widths from 30mm to 35mm – compared to the more common 28mm seen on the flat.

The widest tyres we spotted belonged to SD Worx-Protime, including the defending champion Lotte Kopecky, whose front wheel is pictured above. The team ran 35mm S-Works Mondo endurance tyres.

The next widest tyres belonged to the Cofidis team, who ran the grippy Vittoria Corsa Pro Control in 34mm.

Ceratizit also ran Vittoria Corsa Pro Control tyres, but in 32mm. This was the most common width among the starters on the day.

The narrowest tyres we saw were fitted to the bikes of Human Powered Health's riders, and measured 30mm. We also saw this width on bikes from St Michel - Preference Home - Auber93 and Liv AlUla Jayco, with half the Australian squad on 30mm and the other half on 32mm.

Tyre inflation system

Adjustable tyre pressure systems first surfaced at Paris-Roubaix two years ago, used by a handful of riders testing the then-new technology.

This time round, Visma-Lease a Bike's riders were unanimous in running the systems, made by Netherlands-based Gravaa.

The company's system is controlled wirelessly via Bluetooth with buttons installed on the handlebars, and allows riders to drop and increase tyre pressure as they please. Pauline Ferrand Prévot rode the technology to victory on her debut.

"I changed every sector," the Frenchwoman said afterwards. "It was super good to be able to put lower pressure on the cobbles. We were much more comfortable, less jumping."

After she dropped the pressure down, Ferrand-Prévot said the system took "some minutes" to get up to 4-bar (58psi), but gave her an advantage on the road sections.

"To be able to pump again on the tarmac was super good, because there was a lot at the end on the tarmac," she said.

Unreleased wheels

This year, riders have been using unreleased 'smart wheels' from brand Zipp. The first to be seen using them was Q36.5's Tom Pidcock at Omloop Het Nieuwsblad, and they were commonplace at Paris-Roubaix among Canyon-SRAM zondacrypto and Movistar, two teams supplied with Zipp wheels.

Although there is no spec available at the moment, patent information suggests the wheels give live feedback to riders about tyre pressure, rim health, and road surfaces. They do not, however, allow live pressure adjustments like Gravaa's system.

The wheels come as a combination of Zipp wheels and in-sensor accessories from TyreWiz, two brands owned by components maker SRAM.

Single chainrings

Another thing that has become a more common sight at Paris-Roubaix is single chainring groupsets, also known as 1x.

Every team supplied with SRAM components – including Canyon-SRAM zondacrypto, Movistar, and Visma-Lease a Bike – used 1x set-ups on Saturday.

A single chainring is normally sufficient for a flat race like Roubaix, and vastly reduces the risk of the chain falling off. In the picture of Chloé Dygert's (Canyon-SRAM) bike above, you can see she used a chain guide hold it in place. This was standard across those running 1x.

Satellite shifters

Satellite shifters are nothing new at Paris-Roubaix, but it's always interesting to see how different riders choose to place them.

Above, note how Emma Norsgaard (Lidl-Trek) has one shifter under the tops of her bars, and another inside the drops. This enables her to shift while handling the bike in different places.

Norsgaard's shifters were also reinforced with extra bar tape.

The above picture is of Kopecky's handlebars. The world champion opted for single shifters, located either side of her bike's stem.

This is because Kopecky prefers grip the tops of her bars while riding over cobbles, shifting with her thumbs.

Another noticeable thing we spotted on Kopecky's bike was this rainbow-coloured metallic cassette. This bit of bling was on her spare bike, and gives no discernible advantage, other than looking cool.

We were also big fans of this special-edition cobble paint job over at Winspace Orange Seal's team bus.

The bike didn't have a number attached to it, so we're not sure if it was used in the race. Either way, it looks the part, doesn't it?

The victories came in an already golden year for the family. On her Olympic debut, in August, 26-year-old Sophie charged to her maiden title as part of Team GB’s sprint squad. After the race, she pulled up along the barrier in tears, and hugged her mother and older sister, Emily, both wearing matching Union Jack bucket hats.

The two sisters’ father, Nigel, died less than three years before the Paris Olympics. He and Debbie had met through cycling in the Nineties, and he went on to become a two-time Paralympian, competing on the track and road at the 1996 Games in Atlanta, and in Sydney four years later. Following his retirement, Nigel continued as a well-loved coach at Lichfield City Cycling Club, where an endeavour trophy is now awarded in his name each year.

For this ‘Meet the Maker’, we met with Sophie and Debbie to find out how they’re building on the family legacy.

Sophie Capewell

Age: 26
Height: 5ft 7in
Born: Lichfield, Staffordshire
Occupation: Track sprinter
Biggest sporting achievement: 1st – team sprint, Olympic Games (2024)

How sporty was your upbringing?

Extraordinarily. I don’t remember ever not doing sport. I think we did nearly every sport under the sun. The way we got into sport was because Mum and Dad were either coaching at the local cycling club or going out on their bikes.

What did you want to be?

I wanted to be world and Olympic champion. I used to recite it anytime anyone would ask me – I think it’s because my parents made me feel that it was possible. We all loved sport growing up, so of course that was the future I wanted. Last year I finally achieved my childhood dream, but there are other events where it would be cool [to win gold]. There’s more that I want to win.

What sporting attributes have you inherited from your mum?

We’re both pretty competitive, that’s the main one. We also both have a big passion for cycling, and we have that in common in buckets. She was racing the sprint while I was racing the sprint, so the sprint side is something that we get to talk about a lot and share a common interest in.

How are you and your mum similar as cyclists?

We’re both good at starting [out the gates]. We’re also both quite tactical riders and enjoy that side of things. We don’t ride a lot on the track together (“because she scares me,” Debbie interjects). The last time I took her out was not the nicest.

How are you different as cyclists?

I think I problem-solve a little bit more and look at the race in a slightly different way. She’s more of an artist in thinking about the race, whereas I think of it more in an analytical sense. Oh, and I ride really big gears.

Are you similar personality-wise?

Yes and no. We’re both extremely stubborn, which is a blessing and a curse, I guess. I would argue that I’m probably a lot more outgoing and confident. She’s a little bit more introverted, which is not a negative thing.

How do your approaches to training compare?

I’m quite regimented, and if it’s written down, I feel like I have to do it. I’m a big rule-follower. If something was always in my plan, I have to do it, whereas she goes off feel a lot more. That’s something mum’s helped me with a little bit as well. We’re both pretty good at switching on when we need to.

In what way has your mum influenced your career?

I find it hard to describe because I don’t know what I would be without her. It’s not like I started cycling at 14, and the influence started at that age – she’s just always been there. I think because Mum cycles and Dad used to as well, they made me feel like everything was possible to do. The other thing is that I had so many female role models growing up, including my mum, that I didn’t really clock the gender gap until I was older. My mum had big strong quads, like me, and I had other female influences because she was riding with other women.

What’s your personal philosophy towards sport?

It’s the best thing ever. I love to win. Obviously everybody loves to win, but I want to be the best. When we were growing up, my dad used to say, “Always aim to win. Don’t aim for third, because you’ll get fourth.” That was his experience of it. [Nigel Capewell finished fourth at the 1996 and 2000 Paralympics]. Maybe this is where my sport philosophy comes from, but I always want to win in everything I do now.

Describe your mum in three words.

Stubborn. Determined. Helpful.

Debbie Capewell

Age: 59
Height: 5ft 5in
Born: Walsall, West Midlands
Occupation: Retired nurse
Biggest sporting achievement: 5x gold medallist UCI Masters Track World Championships

Talk us through your cycling accolades.

My sister [Julie] and I won the team sprint in 2015, and we’ve had a couple of silver medals. I had always been a bit of a bridesmaid and had a fair few silvers, but in 2023, I won my first individual Masters Track World Championships title. I also won the team sprint in 2023 and 2024, and we won the team pursuit last year, as well.

Did you have sporty parents?

My dad used to cycle and was in a club when he was a schoolboy, but my sport was showjumping. We had horses, so I didn’t really come into cycling until my late-20s, when I finished with the horses. My dad built me a bike and said, “Come on, we’ll ride the local 10[-mile time trial].” And that’s where it all began, really. We used to go out on club runs and things like that. He was quite competitive.

When and how did you get into track cycling?

I met my husband Nigel at the Divisional Road Race Championships, and he ended up coaching me. The first time I got on the track was in 1996, just before we got married, and that was my first experience. It’s been my thing ever since, although I’ve dabbled in everything else.

What does your training consist of these days?

I do sessions at Derby Velodrome twice a week, but I’m not so regimented. I go to the gym twice a week – although I have to be a bit careful now – and I go out on the roads. I can do what I want, really. Obviously I’m not lifting 140kg!

What advice have you tried to pass onto Sophie?

Enjoy it, first and foremost. I always say to her, especially where the gym is concerned, “You’re not a weightlifter, so don’t risk getting injured. You’re a cyclist at the end of the day. Stay healthy and be the best you can be.” I think Sophie’s pretty switched on with what she does, but sometimes she needs to have more belief in herself. She’s got one of these magical brains that works things out, it’s just giving her the belief to go and do it.

Sophie raced mountain bike and cyclo-cross as a child – could she have specialised in one of these disciplines?

She was pretty good, considering as a youth she did multiple sports. The only thing she couldn’t do was climb hills. I think she could probably do the endurance part of the track, because I think she’s got a good racing brain.

Do you ride for a team now?

Yes, I ride for Team Ohten Aveas. The team was set up originally pre-Covid, and it’s got a big passion for the team pursuit. They want to prove that age is no limit, and they’ve been fantastic support for me. It’s a good bunch of older people who want to dominate. They’ve said the next thing they would like to do is branch to helping a women’s team as well. There aren’t so many masters women, but I think it’s great. It’s given me a lease of life. I’m still learning, I’m doing something different, and I’m keeping fit, so it’s brilliant.

What is the trick to winning world titles in your fifties?

Hard work, enjoyment and belief.

Describe Sophie in three words.

Determined. Strong. Stubborn.

The no-conferring round

Guess what your mum said when we asked…

What is the one thing Sophie can do that Debbie can’t?

Sophie: Lift heavy weights. I can lift a lot more than she can.
Debbie: Lift weights.

What is the one thing that Debbie can do that Sophie can’t?

S: She’s able to not train if she doesn’t feel like she needs to or wants to. But I’m like, “No, I have to do it.” That’s the big difference.
D: I’ve got patience and she hasn’t.

Would Sophie have made a good team pursuiter?

S: I think so, yes. But I think I can do anything!
D: I think she would have. The team pursuit has become faster over the years.

Whose discipline is tougher, Sophie’s sprinting or Debbie’s endurance events?

S: I think sprinting is tougher, because the mental side is tougher. If you’re not fully switched on, you’re not going to do well.
D: Sprinting. After you’ve done team pursuiting, when you go back to sprinting, there’s nothing like emptying the tank and how much it hurts.

Who is better at riding outdoors?

S: Currently Mum because I’ve not done it in a long time. She’s not as heavy, so I think that really helps. We need to go on a ride together and figure this one out.
D: Me. She’s on the track all the time!

How does Debbie feel watching Sophie race?

S: Nervous. There are some good pictures of her trying to not look. I think I scare her a little bit. She’s very proud as well.
D: It’s horrendous. I can find myself hiding under seats and all sorts of things. If it doesn’t go well, I live every pedal stroke with her.

Who will win more world titles in their careers?

S: I’m hoping I will. I’m going to go with me. I’m going to be bold and set the bar high for myself.
D: I think she’d like to think she could win more.

Who is more competitive?

S: Me. 100%. No doubt. I’ll be very surprised if she doesn’t say the same thing.
D: Sophie. No doubt.

This feature originally appeared in Cycling Weekly magazine on 6 March 2025. Subscribe now and never miss an issue.

A month ago, however, as I swirled around the remnants of a cold glass of Chablis, I had a moment of clarity. Much as I adore a Chablis, or a Chardonnay, or indeed a five quid bottle of supermarket plonk, beyond making me fat, skint and sleepy it wasn’t actually serving any purpose in my life.

UK Government guidelines suggest 14 units of alcohol per week as a maximum, I was exceeding this by quite some way. It was time, then, to address the issue.

According to research from the ACSM Health and Fitness Journal, it takes between 18 and 254 days to break a habit. The disparity here could be attributed to how motivated you are to reign in a particular behaviour, or how ingrained in your lifestyle it has become. Fortunately my habit - for the most part - was very much an evening affair. So, moving my usual lunchtime smart trainer session to an evening spot filled the space that would otherwise be spent gawping at the TV with a beer in hand. Discovering nothing on the box was that good without booze, I followed the sweat sess with a good book, and so began my new routine.

It’s now been a full month - this is what I’ve found…

Restless legs, begone

For years, decades even, I’ve been kept awake by incessant bouts of Restless Leg Syndrome (RLS). To the uninitiated, it’s an uncomfortable feeling of crawling, usually around your glutes and quads, wherein the sufferer is compelled to move to mitigate the sensation - literally to scratch an itch that will not go away. I’ve suffered to the point where I am now on medication and take magnesium supplements after hearing RLS can be caused by a deficiency. Both have had little effect and I’ve more or less resigned myself to poor sleep hygiene.

After a week of abstaining from alcohol I woke up one morning feeling completely refreshed. I checked my watch to find I’d slept for nine solid hours. The following night I drifted into a blissful eight straight hours and suddenly my brain felt slightly less veiled. My sleep had improved to a level that I’d given up hope on and this was in large part due to my RLS symptoms having all but disappeared.

“Alcohol is its own macronutrient – it's seven calories per gram. So it's its own macronutrient,” Jill Mooney, head nutritionist at Barr Ultra, told me. “So that means whenever you drink, alcohol becomes the primary macronutrient that your body processes first. So you push everything out to the side [protein, et al]. So you're not sleeping and you're not recovering properly. And obviously it just simply depends on how much volume there is and the impact on your gut health because there's an impact on your organ and gut health over time.”

This is potentially why my Restless Leg Syndrome has become less pronounced. With alcohol essentially fuelling my sleep, the more important minerals and nutrients - such as magnesium - have been shunted to the side.

Booze-free and biking fresh

Out of the land of nod and onto the open road and it wasn’t long before I noticed a fresher pair of legs on the bike. The reasons for this are hardly surprising but well worth reiterating to those sitting on the fence.

As always, recovery is key: “To recover properly from exercise, it is important to replenish glycogen, stimulate muscle protein synthesis (MPS), and restore fluid balance. Alcohol and the behaviours associated with intoxication can interfere with many aspects of the recovery process,” the NSCA study reports.

Over the last few years, I’ve taken on some major endurance challenges - Land’s End to John O’ Groats, The Pennine Way, GB Escapades to name a few. Most of my longer events were celebrated with an unholy quotient of cold lager, so it’s probably fair to say I wasn’t optimising any gains that are made during the recovery phase – which is arguably the most important part of training.

Approaching things differently this year - and two weeks into my new sober mentality - I took on a 24 hour time trial in the Cotswolds. Amazingly, on completion, I simply wasn’t moved to reach for a post-race pint, although I wasn’t in the condition to reach for anything after just shy of 600km in the saddle.

Scaled down

The real pay-off, though, came at the end of the a full booze-free month. Having weighed in at 91kg after taking my last drink in mid February, I stepped on the scales and was rewarded with an 89kg reading. Two kilograms of weight lost and the only dietary or indeed lifestyle change was cutting out alcohol. I have now acquired a semblance of the body composition I’ve been chasing in vain for so long - and only one small habit stood in the way.

Having spent a month dry then - Parched March, we’ll call it - am eager to dash back to the boozer and make merry with a pint or four of Peroni? To be quite frank, yes I am. But after 30 days sober, the habit has been broken, and, after the benefits that have been laid bare for me to see and enjoy, it’s not one that I’ll be returning to in a hurry.

All countries faced a 10% baseline tariff, an import tax payable on all goods shipped into the U.S., but China and Taiwan – already subject to heavy tariffs set by Trump’s administration during his first term - are set to pay 34% and 32% respectively in additional import taxes. That brings the total tariff for goods imported to the U.S. from China to 54%. China has already clapped back, with heavy new tariffs of their own, and the fluid situation is changing daily.

What is clear is that the repercussions are potentially seismic, with many brands reliant on exports from multiple countries now facing enormous fees. But what does that mean for the bike industry, and its customers?

Giant and Merida, for example, occupy opposite ends of Taiwan, with a plethora of facilities in between; elements of production also take place in Vietnam and elsewhere - a country also facing tariffs and not so heavily discussed in the media. Whilst mainstream brands - those names you see on the downtubes of the vast majority of bikes ridden across the world - are heavily invested in the design process and creation of frame moulds, hardly any own their own factories. Their frames come from the facilities of Giant, Merida, and other lesser known manufacturers.

There are many brands who have their headquarters in the U.S., Specialized and Trek - two of the ‘big three’, alongside Giant in Taiwan - are key examples. However, it’s not just those who call the United States home who will be affected, as the tariffs will be imposed on any brand shipping into the country; UK brands with customers across the pond, will also face new tariffs.

Marketing brands will ‘evaporate’

According to the owner of Time Bicycles, Tony Karklin, the tariffs may see some Chinese firms acquiring more European and US brands, to establish their own distribution entities or assembly operations inside the U.S. border. As well as Time, Karklin owns and runs Cardinal, which operates a substantial operation producing bicycles and components in Portugal and other parts of Europe, including Lithuania.

As Chinese and Taiwanese owned companies seek to keep their large operations busy - with the news from almost all corners that bike brands are pausing their Asian frame orders - Karklin thinks we’re going to see a seismic shift in the structure and ownership of bicycle manufacturing, with more large Asian companies expanding their own brands.

Reflecting on the current state of affairs, he said: “[It is already very] hard to sell in this market; no one is really selling anything at full price yet; retailers are more cautious than ever and we have all these recession fears.”

Karklin refers throughout the conversation to 'sports marketing' brands, saying many of them “will just evaporate”.

“Now we have all these tariffs, brands will stop ordering at the OEM [Original Equipment Manufacturer] level. We’ll then have big factories with excess capacity, they’re going to be looking to buy brands, or launch their own brands, to use that capacity,” he said.

Partly thanks to slowing demand and over-inventory at the big manufacturers - following the well-documented effects of the Covid fueled oversupply - we’re already starting to see the emergence of well-backed, well-funded Asian operations breaking into the U.S and European markets with their own brands. X-Lab by XDS, and their backing of UCI WorldTour team Astana XDS X-Lab, is one such example.

Is a move back to US manufacturing possible?

Trump’s goal, in introducing these tariffs, is to increase manufacturing in the United States. And Karklin believes that’s possible - stating that some U.S. brands still have capacity to produce at home.

Alec White of White Industries, a U.S. brand famous for its high end machined hubs and components, makes all of his product on U.S. soil, but he still needs imports. They use high-quality bearings from Enduro who are a U.S. based company, but manufacture in Singapore, Taiwan and China.

“I am for U.S. jobs and homegrown manufacturing, but, some things make no sense to make here. The labour cost is just higher. My prices will likely have to go up, we’re going to try and mitigate that as much as possible.”

White is also concerned that whilst in his region he has dozens of machine shops that can produce almost anything to a high level, it’s the complexity in some of the humble parts that the U.S. isn’t and can’t be well set up to produce for years.

“A thirty or forty dollar rear hub and free hub for example. That’s a complex part, which when mass produced, has a low unit price, essential to building thousands of reasonably priced bikes. The expertise, process and technology they have in Asia to produce those parts at volume, can’t be replicated here in even a decade, and who’s going to do that? You’d replace 10 jobs there, with 1 job here and a big machine, and have spent years designing the automation, just to catch up to where they are now.”

Tariffs don’t just affect bike sales or pricing of course, and economists agree that the tariffs will mean high inflation in the short to mid-term. That means the things people buy will be going up – across the board – and that’s going to further squeeze household budgets, hitting spending on luxury products such as sports goods hard.

“My worry is that at the entry-level end, no one in the U.S. can hit [the prices made possible with Asian manufacturing], regardless of tariffs. If a kid never gets a bike because the price goes up, and the money is going towards groceries, that kid doesn’t get into cycling, and that worries me for the future of the cycling industry.”

A few smaller, US brands, are looking to capitalise on the situation. Stinner Cycles’ Aaron Stinner is launching an OEM service, Stinner Manufacturing, for brands who want to manufacture in the U.S., he’s already offering capacity for up to 3,000 frames per year and is optimistically cautious: “The current tariffs have implications for anyone running a business, not to mention its impact on consumers, jobs and the economy. For Stinner, the effect is lighter than a brand producing overseas, but we are still feeling it."

“We are seeing a rush as customers purchase our stock bikes now before a potential cost increase to offset rises in the cost of materials,” he said, adding “chaos and reactionary business decisions put the bike industry in a pickle during COVID-19. The fear is that the same mistakes will be made now.”

The impact on UK bike brands

Tariffs for the UK, charged in the U.S. when customers receive goods exported from the UK, are sat at 10%. At the moment, that means the UK is – in the context of these developments – potentially in a good place to be making frames or assembling bicycles for export, but there will be some kickers; if the frame came from say, Vietnam, U.S. customs considers that subject to the Vietnamese tariff, of 46%.

We reached out to Ben Meir of REAP Bikes, who manufacture carbon bicycles in the UK. “There was no cause for panic”, he said, but added, “can we foresee a situation where a product we make – that’s equivalent to a U.S brand bike shipped out of Taiwan – but subject to considerably less tariff than the U.S brand bike? Yes, but it’s too early to tell if that will stick.”

Alternatively, brands may look to Europe, where operations do not match the scale of the Asian countries, but are up and running, with lower tariffs reducing the cost of imports. Parlee has recently begun production in Portugal, where Time Bicycles also produces parts for some of its bikes, for example.

Holding stock on the water

News of brands keeping stock floating on the water between Asia and the U.S. - or racing to get it stateside before tariffs apply - has become a regular topic of conversation amongst industry insiders.

Tern Bicycles, for example, is staring down the barrel of a $1million import duty on product already on its way to the U.S. – if it doesn’t land before the taxes kick in.

North America Manager at Tern, Steve Boyd, had a clear message for consumers (and policy makers): “If you’re in a position to buy a bike, this would be a good time to buy. This is our peak season. I’ve got a few months of stock on hand, and a few months on the way. If this takes 60 days to figure out, we’re going to miss this spot. It’s not going to be a run on inventory like we saw in the pandemic, but we will see a product shortage.”

Looking ahead to the longterm, he felt decisions were being made with a lack of understanding for what’s possible. “Even if we make our bikes here, we still have to source parts elsewhere. The supply chain is global. Replacing that isn’t possible in the short term. People in industry get that, people in Washington don’t.”

He also thinks the unseen impacts will make it harder than ever to complete bikes. “If the guy you buy saddles from doesn’t make it through this, who’s going to replace that stock? You can’t just magic up 5000 saddles, and then you’ve got a ton of incomplete stock you can’t sell. The same issue applies to chains, and hundreds of parts.”

So will brands who sell into the U.S. be forced to move their manufacturing there? Most are saying it’s too early to say, and are “waiting to see how this all shakes out” in the words of Mike Stimola, Enve Composites CEO.

Perhaps then, to sum up, Factor’s Rob Gitelis’s words are much more impactful than mine: “Our products are made in Taiwan, they’ve always been made in Taiwan, we will continue to produce in Taiwan, I live in Taiwan. All we know is that bikes are going to get more expensive.”