For the past nine days now, I have been banking heavily on the fact that I will one day, in this race, get into a breakaway and ride to glory. In many ways, I love doing a grand tour in this style. It offers far more respite from the daily, seemingly unending, stress of riding in the general classification. Two days ago, for example, I flatted with 10km to go. Instead of panicking to do a wheel change and taking massive risks in the caravan to get back to the field, as the peloton sprinted through the final corners I could just sit up, relax and coast safely to the finish line.
However, the gamble of being a breakaway rider also has its downsides, the biggest being its impact on your ego. Because the Tour transcends the sport of cycling — and, for the only time in the year, has people watching who know little, if anything, about the sport — you are acutely aware of how a layman interprets your results. I am especially aware of this, as I was once one of those laymen.
Friends message you saying, “Congrats on your 62nd place yesterday!” or your local newspaper writes, “Woods sits 88th after 8 stages of the Tour.” To the cycling aficionado, after the top 15–20 riders, even in the era of WorldTour relegation, little interest is given.
People who are intrinsically involved in the sport, particularly riders, almost have a disdain for those who battle for placings after the top 20. If you ask any rider whether they would prefer to finish 11th at the Tour or have a stage win, I would venture to say that 100% of them would choose a stage win. Even choosing between placing 5th–10th in GC versus a stage win, the answers would probably skew toward winning a stage. Therefore, energy spent on placing worse than a top 15–20 is considered a waste of resources in the hunt for a stage victory. Pushing to the line after being dropped from a group of 15 on a mountain could cost you a potential stage victory in the days to come. So, why would anyone do this? The answer: ego.
Seeing your name beside 88th on the GC, as someone who has been competitive in the GC in the past, impacts your ego. Even if you are 38 years old, have won a stage at the Tour de France, and know that this is part of the plan, it’s still hard to see.
As a runner, I viewed placings as a literal measure of the participant’s quality in the race. If you were 88th at a marathon, you were the 88th best marathoner in that race. Therefore, if I saw that Mike Woods was 62nd on stage 6 of the Tour de France, I would think, Mike Woods was the 62nd best rider on that stage. No matter how much I’ve shifted my mentality since my days as a runner, there is still a runner inside me who sees this and thinks, “Man, I am far back.”
Therefore, banking on breakaway glory is a massive gamble. If you win from a break, to those same people — who were concerned about your 143rd place on stage 2 — you will be seen as the best cyclist at the Tour de France that day. You will be regarded as a “great cyclist,” and the gamble of sagging most days will have paid off. However, if you miss the right break, or you get in a break that doesn’t win, or you just don’t have the legs on the day you get in the right break, not only have you not won at the Tour de France, but in the only race that most people you know watch, your performance will be defined as being the 88th best cyclist in the Tour. And that just doesn’t sound good.
Furthermore, during an opening week like we just had, sitting at the back of the peloton takes you out of race rhythm. Yes, it is safer, and yes, you conserve energy by sitting up when the contenders are sprinting to the line, but you also start to lose the feel of being in a bike race. There are points where you wonder if you’re in the world’s hardest grand fondo rather than its most spectacular race. Honestly, for most of this first week, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking, “I am in the wrong sport.”
But, this is the bet I’ve chosen — the sacrifice I am making in pursuit of stage glory. So, as we now, finally, head into the mountains and my skin and sanity are both intact, it’s now time to aim for being, in the eyes of my neighbors, “the best cyclist in the Tour de France for one stage.”