Mixing an electrolyte drink had become a firm part of my morning routine. The moment I was downstairs, I’d be reaching for a snazzily branded sachet. It didn’t matter what workout I had planned – I’d always find an excuse to accessorise my water. I must have tried every brand and flavour on the market, easily attracted by slick packaging and a novel taste, rarely glancing at the actual ingredients. But then I began to ponder the extra sodium I was consuming, which ranged from 300mg per sachet to a massive 1,000mg hit.

That 1,000mg is a whole gram of pure sodium – which is where the maths gets alarming. Because salt is only about 40% sodium, you have to multiply any sodium figure by 2.5 to find the true salt equivalent. Suddenly, that 1g of sodium becomes 2.5g of salt. Drinking just two of those heavy duty sachets meant I was downing 5g of salt – dangerously close to the NHS daily maximum of 6g, before I’d even eaten a meal. While sodium is the main electrolyte lost in sweat, these numbers made me question my habit. Was this actually supporting my training and health, or was I just heavily salting my water to make it more interesting?

That question led me to look at salt intake more broadly. A recent study by the British Heart Foundation found that the average Brit consumes the equivalent salt found in 155 packets of crisps each week – around 8.4g per day, roughly 40% more than the advised limit. Consuming too much salt carries risks – but more on that later. First, where do electrolytes fit into that picture? Do we really need them day to day, or are they better reserved for very long rides in hot weather?

What are electrolytes?

Electrolytes – sodium, potassium, magnesium, and calcium – are essential minerals the body needs to function properly. They play vital roles in maintaining fluid balance, transmitting nerve signals, enabling muscle contractions, and balancing blood pH. When we exercise, the body cools itself by sweating, and because sweat is derived from your blood plasma and extracellular fluid, it contains dissolved minerals – predominantly sodium. But to what extent do we need to replace the electrolytes we sweat out?

As a sports nutritionist for Red Bull-Bora-Hansgrohe, Will Girling works with riders tackling the world’s biggest races, including the Tour de France, where carefully managing fluid and sodium losses over long, hot stages is critical. Failing to replace such losses could cause serious problems. “At its most extreme,” said Girling, “that could include hyponatraemia [low blood sodium levels, below the normal range of around 135-145 mmol/L]. More commonly, you might experience dehydration, headaches, nausea and a reduced ability to exercise.” But what about for recreational cyclists – do we need to take similar precautions?

Electrolytes don’t directly hydrate you, but they help your body retain and use the fluid you drink more effectively. This distinction is widely misunderstood, reckons Dr Lewis James from Loughborough University. “People mistakenly think that by having an electrolyte product, they’re getting better hydration, so they don’t focus on the thing that matters most – fluid intake,” he said. “The electrolyte content won’t magically make them more hydrated, not unless they are also drinking the correct amount of water they need.”

According to the experts, electrolyte use is considered most useful during sustained exercise lasting longer than 60 minutes, in hot environments, or for individuals who consistently lose relatively high amounts of sodium in their sweat, often indicated by signs such as white salt marks on clothing or sweat that stings the eyes.

Electrolytes drive hydration through a process called osmosis. In simple terms, water naturally moves toward areas with a higher concentration of sodium to balance things out. Because water always follows sodium, higher sodium levels essentially prompt the body to ‘hold on’ to more fluid. “Electrolytes assist water absorption and retention, so anything you drink can contribute more readily to the body water pool if electrolytes are present,” explained Professor Stuart Galloway from the University of Stirling.

Much of the time, we replenish electrolytes naturally through the foods we eat day to day: sodium from salt, potassium from bananas and potatoes, and magnesium from nuts, seeds, and leafy greens. During prolonged or very intense exercise, however, particularly in hot conditions, supplementation can offer a convenient way to replace what’s lost through sweat.

What’s inside the sachets?

Brands selling electrolytes are becoming increasingly visible, with the global electrolyte powder market alone expected to exceed $700m (£530m) within the next four years. Ingredient lists vary significantly between brands, but sodium is usually the primary ingredient, alongside potassium, magnesium and calcium. Many products also go beyond basic electrolytes. Some include carbohydrates to provide a quick energy source, while others also contain caffeine, amino acids, or “performance blends” designed to boost alertness or gut health. Flavourings, sweeteners such as stevia or sucralose, and anti-caking agents are also commonly used to improve taste and shelf stability.

The language used to market these products makes big, often vague promises. Some brands position electrolytes as an everyday essential, even those with up to 1,000mg of sodium, claiming benefits such as improved energy, enhanced performance, sharper focus and reduced fatigue. As a result, the lines between evidence-based sports nutrition and more questionable “wellness” fads have become increasingly blurred.

DIY it at home

Want to ditch the expensive sports drinks? Dr Carrie Ruxton’s DIY alternative takes seconds to mix and costs mere pennies.

To make 500ml, mix the following ingredients:

• 150–200ml 100% orange juice
• 300–350ml water
• 1 sachet of oral rehydration salts (like Dioralyte or a generic supermarket brand) for hot weather or sweat- heavy sessions.
• Want an even cheaper fix? Swapping the sachet for a single gram of standard table salt provides about 400mg of sodium for next to nothing.

Do we need them, and if so, when?

With electrolyte powders and tablets now regular fixtures in the supermarket, it would be easy to assume they’re an essential part of every rider’s training routine. But for most cyclists, the reality is more nuanced. “There’s salt everywhere in all of our diets,” James said. “Most of us get a lot more than we need on a daily basis, so I would question whether it’s needed for someone who is recreationally active and mainly exercising for health purposes or enjoyment.”

Girling echoed this view, adding that for exercise lasting less than two hours, hydrating beforehand and drinking to thirst during is generally sufficient, unless conditions are very hot or sweat sodium losses are unusually high. In these situations, consuming an electrolyte drink before exercise may help support fluid balance from the outset. “If exercise is prolonged – over two hours – you probably want to be considering it [electrolytes],” Girling added, recommending cyclists also check the sodium content of their gels and carbohydrate drinks.

However, many factors influence electrolyte requirements. Galloway points out that there’s no one-size fits-all approach. “It depends on how long the ride is going to be, what the conditions are like, what else the rider might be eating or drinking during that ride, and individual differences,” he said. The demands of a steady cafe ride in spring are very different from those of a four-hour ride or race at the height of summer. For James, the conversation changes when riders are training at a high level, completing multiple sessions a day, or preparing for events in hot environments. In these situations, sodium losses through sweat may exceed dietary intake, potentially affecting both performance and recovery.

For recreational cyclists, electrolyte supplementation becomes useful during back-to-back training days in hot weather or on longer, more demanding sessions where sweat losses are higher. The estimated average sweat sodium loss is between 800 and 950mg per litre of sweat, although this varies considerably between individuals owing to genetics and heat adaptation, with reported values ranging from around 200mg to 2,000mg per litre. While sweat sodium tests are available at a cost, most sports nutritionists consider them an unnecessary expense for everyday riders. Instead, simple observation is usually enough: riders who notice white marks on their kit after a ride correctly infer that they have lost significant amounts of sodium.

Sodium is the primary electrolyte lost in sweat, so that should be the main focus. James explained that, while other electrolytes (potassium, magnesium, and calcium) are essential for normal bodily function, there is limited evidence that supplementing them during exercise provides additional benefits. The consensus among the experts we consulted was that hydration strategies can be simple and cheap. The body doesn’t distinguish the sodium in table salt from the sodium in a supplement. “One gram of salt contains around 400mg of sodium,” Girling pointed out, suggesting that you don’t necessarily need to spend money on sachets and tablets.

Across the board, the experts suggested that performance generally begins to decline once dehydration exceeds 2% of body weight, meaning mild dehydration during shorter or lower-intensity rides is usually well tolerated by the body. “As you go beyond 2% dehydration, you may begin to experience brain fog, lose concentration, feel greater fatigue and you’ll start to heat up, as you’ve less fluid to keep your temperature down,” said Dr Carrie Ruxton, dietitian and co founder of Salt St Andrews gym.

To estimate your own fluid losses, weigh yourself before and after a ride. As a guide, a 70kg rider who loses 2% of their body weight, or 1.4kg, during a ride will have lost around 1.4 litres of fluid. How quickly you reach this level of dehydration depends on your sweat rate, which varies depending on temperature, intensity, and individual physiology.

Can you have too many electrolytes?

Supplementing with electrolytes may be useful for riders covering long distances in very warm weather, but if you’re regularly emptying sachets into your water, can you have too much of a good thing? “It will all come down to salt balance over the day,” James said. “If they’re consuming too much salt, then there could be negative effects.” One of the biggest concerns around electrolyte products is excessive sodium intake. Too much salt over time has been linked to high blood pressure, a major risk factor for cardiovascular disease. For those who already have high blood pressure, Ruxton stressed the importance of monitoring the combined sodium intake from food or supplements.

The experts consulted all agreed that healthy, active individuals are unlikely to run into problems from occasional electrolyte use around training. “Generally, if you’re young and active anyway, with a healthy balanced diet, your body is good at sorting out how much salt and how much other electrolytes it needs,” said Galloway. “We excrete the excess and retain what we need.” More immediate issues tend to come from overuse during exercise. According to Girling, excessively concentrated drinks can contribute to gastrointestinal distress and may even slow carbohydrate absorption, potentially impacting performance. Higher sodium intake can also lead to short-term fluid retention, showing up as slight weight fluctuations or a bloated feeling after use. “That’s only important if you’re doing an activity or racing where it’s important not to gain weight the next day,” Girling said. Ultimately, electrolytes are best viewed as a tool rather than a daily necessity – useful in the right conditions, but otherwise pointless. As Ruxton pointed out, electrolytes should be treated similarly to energy gels – used strategically. “It’s about using these things in a planned way and doing the planning when you’re training,” she said.

Instead of reaching for an electrolyte sachet first thing in the morning, I’ll be taking a more mindful approach. For most of us, especially those training in cooler climates like the UK, electrolyte supplements aren’t a daily necessity. They have their place – particularly during longer rides, in the heat, or when sweat losses are high – but otherwise, most of us are likely to maintain electrolyte balance through our normal diet. Since writing this article, I’ve already kicked my electrolyte habit, and instead I’m paying closer attention to the amount of salt in my diet, which thankfully appears to be relatively low. For now, the sachets will stay in the cupboard – until I really need them.

How much should we aim to consume?

Lisa Charlebois spoke to a range of experts in search of a baseline intake suggestion.

Dr. Cristhian Montenegro – PhD in human bioenergetics, with a focus on cardiovascular and muscle physiology – argues the baseline sodium question is more nuanced than nutrition labels suggest.

"Sodium for cyclists during exercise is tied to the amount of water they are looking to retain or replace," he says. “Sodium and carbohydrates like glucose and sucrose all help with the retention of water, so the amount of sodium supplementation will not only depend on water intake but also the total other water-retaining sugars in drink mix or gels. In short, up to 500mg is a good baseline range if you’re drinking one 500ml bottle per hour.

"Generally, 500 to 1,000mg of sodium per hour is justified for performance-oriented hard efforts, as long as it is ingested correctly and for the right reasons, essentially with water, for water replenishment," he says. "If it is hot and an athlete is working hard and generating metabolic heat, total sodium consumption may be even higher."

However, he draws a sharp line between the elite athletes and the everyday rider. "As with most things marketed using professional athletes, us ‘mere mortals’ will get by with much less, especially on moderate intensity rides."

Andrea Rumschlag, a Registered and Licensed Dietitian, cites the general guideline of 300 to 600mg per hour. "I always like to remind athletes (or any consumer for that matter) to consider who is selling you something," she says. "Higher levels of sodium are typically needed for moderately intense activity exceeding two to eight or more hours. Otherwise, the average sweater doing one to two hours may be just fine with a sports drink, water, and a salty snack post-ride."

Frank Overton, founder of FasCat Coaching, with a Masters in Physiology and a USA Cycling Level 1 accreditation, puts it plainly: "Sodium loss varies wildly between people, roughly anywhere from 100 to 2,000mg per hour. That's why a one-size-fits-all 1,000mg product is ideal for some riders and overkill for others. The answer is genuinely individual."

The general consensus was that, for rides under two hours in cool conditions, water and food will work well. Rides from two to four hours, electrolytes in the 300 to 500mg range are reasonable. For rides over four hours, in heat, or for known heavy sweaters, higher sodium supplementation may be genuinely beneficial.

Sweat tests are available for those who really want to know if they’re losing more or less sodium than the average rider through sweat. Lindsey Hunt, MSc, PhD and Senior Sports Scientist at Precision Hydration, which offers the testing and tailored electrolyte drinks, told us: “Sweat rate you can train and measure. But how much sodium you lose in that sweat is largely down to your genes, and it barely shifts with fitness or acclimatisation. We see people losing anywhere from around 200mg of sodium per litre of sweat to over 2,000mg — that's a tenfold difference between two riders who look identical on paper. So if you're a salty sweater doing long, hot rides, generic advice can leave you a long way short without you ever knowing why.”

"But, how would you clip in?" - I can hear the comments already.

But, bear with me.

As a cyclist who has adopted 'barefoot' style shoes, which most notably feature wide and 'foot-shaped' toe boxes, applying this newfound appreciation for the space between my toes has been a difficult discovery to square with my previously comfortable cycling shoes.

Cycling shoes are notoriously narrow, often more so as the performance increases, a topic I explored back in 2021 - before I had two children, picking up one foot injury per child.

In fact, since I've been working on my 'toe splay', which is effectively restoring my feet to their natural pre-fashion-orientated-shoe state, I've found most of my old cycling shoes just don't fit.

Not only can having stronger, more comfortable feet benefit overall health, but as founder at the eponymous Phil Burt Innovation and former Head of Physiotherapy Burt explains, getting the most out of your feet can drastically improve power output, a discovery he made ahead of the Rio Olympics.

Having created custom, moulded shoes for track riders, he discovered "quite amazing uplifts in power," something he put down to the fact that "the foot, all of a sudden, wasn't wiggling around in the shoe".

If you need further convincing, International Bike Fitting Institute (IBFI) president and owner at boutique fitting provider VeloAtelier, Lee Prescott, also outlines how and why improper cycling shoe fit and set up can result in a plethora of common cycling injuries; "more often than not, we see [poor shoe fit] in knee irritations", he notes.

But, if all this toe and foot talk is new to you, listen first to the explainer from The Foot Collective guide and Bowen Therapist, Nic Pike, as she outlines what all this foot chat is all about.

"If you consider the Leaning Tower of Pisa, it hasn't got a great foundation. Look what happened," she begins...

In this episode of the Off the Back podcast, we mention a few resources and products.

For advice on restoring foot health, we'd recommend starting with The Foot Collective. Cycling Weekly readers and listeners will receive a discount on the foot restoration programme with the code CLEVEDONBMC.

If you're struggling to find cycling shoes that cater to a more 'barefoot' style, check out Strong Feet Athletics, though Cycling Weekly has not yet been able to obtain a pair to put them to the test.

Lake are a 'go-to'; Prescott noting "most bike fitters will pretty much instantly point to Lake". The brand offers the CX242 - which can be adjusted separately to provide a more tailored fit, and the CX201, which boasts a 'foot-shaped' toe box, but is also wider at the rear so may not suit those with narrower ankles.

Finally, if you're seeking the ultimate in custom fit, check out Lore which creates shoes based upon a personalised foot scan, these will however set you back, with prices starting at $1649.

The Off the Back Podcast is out every Thursday on YouTube, Apple podcasts, Spotify or wherever your listen. All our episodes can be found below. If you enjoy listening, be sure to subscribe, and if you have any questions, or topics you'd like us to cover, send them to cycling@futurenet.com with 'Off the Back question' in the header.

Our Tour de France Grand Départ tech gallery revealed more spacers, shorter cranks and more forward saddles than ever before in the pro peloton. These are things bike fitters have been advocating for years, but professional cycling can be resistant to change, particularly with regards to bike set-up.

Tradition and aesthetics long dictated that slammed stems were faster and de rigueur. As our tech editor predicted before the race, Tour de France cyclists have raised their stems for better comfort and potentially aerodynamics. Following the lead of Tadej Pogačar, sub-170mm cranks are more widespread while the relaxation of the UCI's saddle setback rule has brought seats over the bottom bracket.

To explain why more professional cyclists have seen the light, we've spoken to professional bike fitters Bianca Broadbent and Dan Smith, and Sven Reutter, Canyon's road product manager.

You can lead a horse to water

"The biggest trend for me is that a lot of ideas that were once considered unconventional have now become completely normal and acceptable," says Smith, of UK Bike Fit, who has also worked with WorldTour cyclists such as Ben Swift.

"You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink," says Broadbent from Fit Your Bike, who has fitted numerous international and professional cyclists. "There's an emotional side and the scientific side to bike fit. A lot of the time with professional cyclists, emotion will rule.

"How do you feel on the bike? I feel that when my stem is slammed, I feel that my bike is faster, therefore I will be faster.'

"If their emotional state changes, they're more likely to want to change their fit."

"In the pro ranks, generally speaking, riders have changed their position in the last couple of years," says Reutter. "Saddles have moved forwards, cranks have shortened, and cockpit heights have got both higher, and widths are narrower."

While the Canyon product manager is right to say handlebar width has decreased, the UCI, cycling's governing body, has halted ever-narrowing shifter hood positions. In addition to a minimum width of 400mm across the handlebars, there must be 280mm between the inside of the shifters. This ruling is arguably more unfair to women than men, since women typically have narrower shoulders, but Broadbent says the majority of male WorldTour riders she fits are on the limit.

"There are a lot of guys who want their shifters closer together but unfortunately can't," she adds. "It's a case of nothing can be done."

There are, of course, exceptions, says Reutter, adding: "There are different preferences for every rider, with some more on the traditional side of things, some more open to change and more progressive setups."

The rise of stem spacers

"I’ve noticed the return of spacers," says Smith. "For years there was almost a stigma attached to running spacers under the stem because slammed equalled fast. Now we're seeing riders and teams becoming much more accepting that a slightly higher front end can actually produce a faster rider over the duration of a race.

"It's been clear for a while that the fastest position for a lot of riders isn't necessarily the lowest position. If increasing stack height allows the rider to relax their shoulders, maintain a better head position and sustain their aerodynamic posture for five hours instead of twenty minutes, that's a win."

Reutter also teams are less focused on the smallest possible frontal area and pay more attention to "sustainable aerodynamics".

"A higher cockpit position might be slightly less aerodynamic, but when you add in the rider and how long they can hold this position, the net result can help the rider in total drag resistance," he says.

Fatigue management has also influenced cockpit height, according to Broadbent.

"The lower the cockpit, the more pressure on the saddle. So that's the longevity issue, in terms of sustainability," she says. "If you're racing long-distance stuff like stage races, the Tour de France, after a few days in the saddle you're going to feel knackered."

Nonetheless, we still see riders in aggressive aero positions, such as Baptiste Veistroffer, potentially because they've calculated it's worth adopting.

"It depends on what you've measured in the wind tunnel," she adds. "If you can see like a delta of 10 watts with a higher and a lower cockpit, you're going to go with whatever's fastest, even for short durations, because you might accelerate away, get in a breakaway and work in a group where you don't need to hold that aggressive position all the time."

The fact that wind tunnel testing won't necessarily reveal lower is faster is another reason cockpits have come up.

"We've had athletes in wind tunnels who have had a really unsustainable position and a very low cockpit," says Broadbent. "We brought them up, raised the torso angle and thought: 'Crap, this is going to be slow'. And it's actually faster.

"Conventionally, what happens is if the cockpit's too low, people push themselves out of position."

Forwards saddles and shorter cranks

Moving saddles further forward and shortening cranks are trends that have caught on simultaneously because they have similar objectives.

"Both open up the hip angle for better blood flow and enable a more aerodynamic position," says Reutter. "Additionally these adjustments reduce stress points and knee compensation movement."

"We're also continuing to see riders moving further over the bottom bracket, particularly as shorter cranks allow greater pelvic rotation without excessive hip closure," says Smith. "This allows riders to produce power from a more stable pelvic position whilst also supporting those higher, longer front ends. Again, it's part of the same overall philosophy rather than an isolated change."

Tadej Pogačar is one of the most famous exponents of shorter cranks, and while some cycling fans are sceptical of the benefit it has brought him, and others, bike fitters like Smith can see the positive effect of finding the optimal crank length for a particular rider.

"Watching Pogačar's stage win on 14 July, what really stood out to me was just how open his hip angle remained at the top of the pedal stroke when climbing the last rise to the line," adds Smith. "Historically, if a rider had been producing that much power in such an aggressive position, you'd expect to see the hip much more compressed. Instead, it looked incredibly open and unrestricted."

Broadbent also says the 'Pogačar effect' has convinced more pros to go shorter than the traditional 175mm and 172.5mm cranks.

"We've been trying to get people on shorter cranks for years, but the main problem was belief," she says. "So when Tadej put shorter cranks on, people said to me: 'I really want to do this', although they said no when we discussed it the year before."

However, short cranks haven't been adopted across the board because they won't necessarily work for taller riders, as Wout van Aert's experimentation suggested, and have knock-on effects.

"There is a risk involved because you can't put on different cranks without the data to back it up," says Broadbent. "Although you can compensate for shorter crank length to a degree, it will have an impact on certain scenarios where you do need leverage."

Is the answer progressive geometry?

So-called 'progressive geometry' is becoming a bike-fit buzz word. This geometry, famous in mountain biking and seen on the likes of Factor's One, lengthens the reach and pushes the rider over the bottom bracket, eliminating the need for long stems of the past. Its proponents argue it can rectify the compromised handling caused by more forward positions.

"If 'progressive geometry' means steeper seat tube angles, taller stacks and longer reaches that naturally position riders further over the bottom bracket, then I wouldn't be surprised to see manufacturers head further in that direction for race bikes," says Smith.

"Historically we've seen many pro riders using 130-160mm stems, sometimes even having custom stems made to achieve the position they wanted. If the frame itself provides more reach and a steeper seat angle, those extreme stem lengths become less necessary. For professional riders, progressive geometry makes a lot of sense."

But he is more concerned about how consumers will deal with such geometry.

"Professional riders are an incredibly specific population. They're exceptionally flexible, produce huge amounts of power and spend enormous amounts of time adapting to aggressive positions. Recreational riders generally don't," he adds.

"If everyday riders are placed significantly further over the bottom bracket simply because that's how the bike is designed, we could start to see more issues relating to weight distribution, upper-body loading and overall comfort. A position that's ideal for Tadej Pogačar isn't automatically ideal for someone riding three hours at the weekend to the cafe and back.

"I suspect manufacturers will continue building bikes around the demands of the WorldTour because that's what sells bikes, but I think fitters may end up having to work even harder to adapt those bikes to normal riders."

Broadbent is more skeptical that pros need progressive geometry, such as longer frame reach, to get their fit.

"When manufacturers provide stems up to 140mm in length, that is probably okay, as long as the frame geometry is reasonably long," she says. "It's not like on the track where stems sometimes need to be 180mm."

She also believes it would be rash for bike designers to make taller head tubes.

"I think that might be what you want aesthetically and aerodynamically, but you also need adjustability. And if you start coming up too much, then you lose the ability to reverse adjust that.

"I think you want consistent data to see what that's like over the course of multiple seasons before you start making that permanent change. After that, if you want to get lower you have to size down the frame and then you have the issue with the length. For example, not everyone sticks to shorter cranks; some people change back to longer ones."

Customised touchpoints

There seems to be more attention on personalising bike fits, whether that's through overall measurements or components.

"There might be more scope to go down the custom saddles route," says Broadbent. "Your limitations mainly are manufacturers and their ability to lend resources to it while making a cost-effective product. But the advent of more mass-scale 3D-printing makes it easier to offer personalised solutions, so long as that 3D infrastructure is appropriate for that person."

"In general it's important to understand that a good bike fit is pretty specific for every rider," says Reutter.

"At Canyon we try to create a bike where every rider can achieve their personal best position, this is the reason why we offer different setbacks for our seatposts, lengths from 70mm to 140mm in the cockpit and a whole range of dropbar options, customisable drops, plus a one-piece cockpit. We are increasingly supporting these options with drag testing on the track and in the wind tunnel to find the most efficient position."

The universal pro bike fit is on the way out, according to Smith.

"I've noticed that the positions across the peloton are becoming less extreme and more individual," he says. "Ten years ago there was almost an expectation that every GC rider should be as low and stretched as possible. Now there seems to be greater acceptance that riders can arrive at different solutions based on their morphology, physiology and riding style."

He has also seen bike fits become more rounded, considering aerodynamics, biomechanics and performance all together.

"WorldTour bike fit is not just about comfort or injury prevention or CdA," he adds. "It's becoming an all-round position where the goal is to find the fastest position a rider can actually sustain over the duration of a three-week race."

Variable bike fits

Reutter says certain riders on Canyon-sponsored teams (Alpecin-Premier Tech and Movistar in the men's peloton; Movistar, Fenix-Premier Tech, Canyon-SRAM in the women's peloton) slightly change their position during a stage race.

"Especially at Grand Tours, some riders have kind of off days," he says. "The goal is purely to recover as much as possible. Some riders prefer a more relaxed position on such days and go, for example, for our Compact Drops [which have a shorter drop and reach].

"This approach is rather new to the pro scene and we’re constantly exploring possibilities in this direction."

Notwithstanding the potential benefits, professional cyclists probably won't be able to significantly change their position.

"I think in an ideal world you would potentially have a slightly different position for one-day races and Grand Tours," says Broadbent.

"Having said that, these guys are very well trained. They're exceptional athletes and it depends a little bit who they are.

"If you're a sprinter, it might be more crucial to think about having a more relaxed position on non-sprint days. But the reality is, from a logistical point of view, it's just very, very difficult for teams to do that."

Spacers can't easily be added and removed from integrated cockpits once the steerer has been cut, and it would place high demands on mechanics to swap steerer lengths. But given how much pro bike fits have changed lately and how much teams' budgets have grown, maybe stage-specific bike fits will become the next frontier.

Ask Jonas Vingegaard the secret to his success, and he'll point to his eight years with Dutch coach Tim Heemskerk. “He's one of the best coaches out there,” the two-time Tour de France champion said in March, shortly after Heemskerk departed Visma-Lease a Bike. “He was more than just my coach – he is a good friend… I had complete trust in him. Tim is hard to replace.”

In early May, Heemskerk was announced as the latest person to join the Red Bull-Bora-Hansgrohe staff as the German team continue their bid to challenge UAE Team Emirates-XRG and Visma-Lease a Bike at the Tour.

To launch Cycling Weekly's new Masterminds of Performance series exploring the philosophies of the world's best coaches, Heemskerk shares the wisdom gleaned from three decades in the sport. “I wouldn't say coaching is an experiment,” he says. “It's applied science and art, which you implement using your intuition.”

A former Dutch national mountain biker, Heemskerk's coaching journey began at just 20 while studying human movement sciences at Maastricht University. After stints running his own coaching business in Canada, managing the Dutch national MTB squad through the 2016 Rio Olympics, and working with USA Cycling. He joined Jumbo-Visma in late 2018.

He arrived at the exact same time as a young, unpolished diamond named Jonas Vingegaard. Though Heemskerk would also go on to coach Giro d'Italia winner Simon Yates and American Matteo Jorgenson, it is his history-making partnership with the Dane that ultimately cemented his reputation.

Q: How would you describe your coaching philosophy?

A: My coaching belief is that yearly progression and variation are key. When I started to work with Jonas, some coaches laughed at [the volume I had set] and said they were training more than Jonas, but that's part of yearly progression.

You have to see where someone is coming from, and year by year you increase the load. Someone said to me when I started coaching that the magic starts after three years.

I was working with Jonas for three years before he got a big result. We had been preparing his body for riding GC – whether a week, 10 days or a Grand Tour – to make him strong enough to be able to recover properly and handle those loads.

That takes years, and you have to be patient to learn what does and doesn't work. Progress is not so loud, and it doesn't announce itself – it quietly stacks up day by day and then you see the results.

Q: What was Jonas Vingegaard like to coach?

A: It was very nice to work with him. If we decided to go for something together – and we always decided together – he completely went for it. He was always giving feedback, such as saying he felt good and could cope with more – and then we discussed with the team what it meant.

After working with someone for eight years, you become friends and get to know each other very well, and you both pick up the phone to each other. I am not a waiter with a golden plate who will give you what you want; I will give you what you need. We will discuss it, we will agree or disagree, and then we'll find the right approach together. Jonas always understood that.

Q: Why did you decide to step away from Visma?

A: I don't need to discuss anymore why I made the decision I did. I said when I left that recently I had been struggling to apply my creativity and passion. People in the media and on podcasts said that I had an ego, and that hurt me because I'm a coach – I'm in the background. It's never been about me, but what we did as a team. I continued working with Jonas until right before Paris-Nice, and of course, I've stayed in touch with him. I'm so proud of what we did together as a team for eight years.

Q: As a coach, how do you prepare a rider for an exceptionally demanding race?

A: If a race is raced very aggressively, you need to prepare for that, but there is no guarantee it will suit the rider's physiology. For example, when working with climber-type GC riders who are very aerobically trained with a very high threshold power, getting into a very aggressive way of training and racing changes the rider's physiology within weeks. So you've really got to work together, discover what works physiologically for the riders, and then discuss what races suit them and how to adapt.

Q: How do you design the perfect training schedule?

A: I strive for maximum adaptation, which sounds easy but is actually complex. When I finish a weekly schedule, it's like a painting; it's personal. Maybe 80% is the same as another similar rider's schedule, but there are little adjustments here or there, small finesses, and that personalisation that makes it a painting.

Then the daily monitoring starts and you need flexibility to adjust it on a daily basis. Every rider has a unique physiology and you can't exactly predict the outcome of a training session. After training, the work starts to really monitor and reflect and talk to the athlete to see if what happened is what you expected. So you have the planning part, and then the monitoring and reflecting part which are just as important.

Q: How much do you involve your riders in the coaching plan?

A: You have to work together. You learn about each other over the years and learn how to get the best out of the athlete. To use Jonas as an example, after eight years working with me he can make his own training schedules, as he knows so much.

That's a different way of working together – he can tell me what he needs. Obviously, the coach makes the schedule, but what the athlete actually does is decided by talking and together deciding what is needed at that moment.

Q: How often are you in contact with your riders?

A: Every day, because proper daily monitoring is essential. You can use all the metrics in the world, but the challenge and difficulty is to make it simple for yourself. That's something that only comes with experience.

A young coach will look at everything – mountains of data, spreadsheets and research papers – and over the years you, with intuition, learn how to judge everything properly, filter out the less important information, and discuss it with your colleagues. It's a matter of asking yourself: what did we learn today that will help us tomorrow?

Q: What's a good recovery day?

A: This is something I've been thinking about more and more recently, as it's very common now for heat training and strength training to be added to a rider's schedule on their recovery day.

You need to ask yourself: is the rest day a proper recovery day? Or is this now a day that has increased in load over the years? I'm a strong believer that if you've done the work, you have to respect your recovery days and reduce the physical and cognitive load on a rider.

That also means not doing as many interviews on a rest day or reducing screentime, as that all increases the cognitive load. Athletes and coaches always want to become faster and want to do more and more, but it's better to plan to do heat training or the gym session on training days.

Some riders like to ride their bike on a rest day, and you can allow them to do so for a little while, but really you shouldn't be focusing on cycling when you're meant to be recovering.

Q: How do you improve your coaching skills?

A: My background is in research and I'm curious all of the time, so I'm always reading research papers on sports science. And not just about cycling; some new developments in football, for example, can be applied to cycling.

You want to be asking questions and you want to be critical and disruptive because only then do you and others start thinking. If people call me a pain in the arse, I say to them: thank you, because that's how you make progress. If I created a team, I wouldn't want people to say yes to me. I need people to throw ideas in, to question what we're doing.

Q: How do you envisage training evolving in the coming years?

A: I think we'll see a reduction in hours, and instead more quality training. Maybe we'll laugh about seven-hour sessions. I know there are races like the Monuments that are that long, but maybe better adaptations will come from having multiple sessions [per day]. Two three-hour sessions in one day could be better than one seven-hour ride without a break.

Athletes can now take on board more carbohydrates, so with this added jet fuel it could be possible to add in more quality work. I think we'll also have better tools to monitor riders, such as wearables that allow you to see a rider's lactate or oxygen saturation values. We could learn a lot from that, but nothing will replace speaking with a rider, asking them at breakfast how they feel.

Q: How do you think artificial intelligence (AI) will change coaching?

A: It will never replace daily monitoring and the feeling of what's happening – the coach and athlete will always decide together what they're going to do. But it can be useful. You can ask AI to process data faster and the results can promote and accelerate thinking, as well as highlighting trends which you otherwise might not have seen. It might even come up with out-of-the-box ideas.

Yet we have to remember that AI always uses data from the past to make a prediction and it never has the full context. It might review a test from January and say it was a bad result, but AI doesn't know that the rider had a travel day or that when they woke up they were tired – other reasons why the test's outcome was affected. I think it will – and it is – helping us make sense of data, but I also think human excellence will only become more valued.

I’ve run many marathons. I’ve completed even more 100-mile, or century, rides. Some marathons have felt easy, others have felt like I’m treading shark-infested waters with an open wound.

Century rides are a bit different. They invariably take longer than running 26.2 miles, bringing with them greater challenges around fueling, nutrition and mechanical mishaps, but, riding 100 miles consistently inflicts far less impact on the joints and tendons.

Both are rites of passage within each discipline, but which is harder? Can they actually be compared? Given the impact involved in running, most would probably immediately come down on the side of the marathon; however, it's worth considering the fuelling and pure admin involved in spending around seven hours in the saddle.

To help me answer the question, I spoke with strength and endurance coach Ed Norman of Calibre Athlete. For this feature, we focused on the most common forms of each endurance feat: a standard road marathon and a standard undulating road century, both completed at pace which keeps the heart rate around an endurance-focused zone two, with no drafting.

DURATION

Looking back in the mists of time, my first century took 7.5 hours. I remember how completely broken I felt: how unresponsive my legs were in the final 20 miles, how my back howled, how my backside grimaced and how my feet begged for mercy.

“Seven hours is a solid time for a fit cyclist to complete 100 miles, but others could be going considerably longer, which creates a unique endurance challenge,” Norman says.

Data backs up his sentiment; having crunched the numbers across Strava and Garmin Connect, we know the average cyclist is travelling just under 30 miles (46km) at a time, at an average speed just under 15mph (24k/mh). If that cyclist takes on a century challenge, it’s fair to expect their pace to slow.

“The biggest factor with cycling is the sheer time spent on the bike. You're asking the body to maintain an efficient position for hours on end,” Norman says.

While a marathon may take considerably less time than a century ride – the average duration across both genders being 4hrs 30mins – Norman argues that the nature of the effort is very different.

“If you hit a downhill on a bike, you can let the bike do the work, whereas on a run you are absorbing even more impact, even if it's a gradual descent. The energy return you get from concrete or asphalt when you’re running is very little.”

Hardest for duration: 100 miles

When it comes to duration, the century ride is the bigger challenge. Even relatively strong cyclists can expect to spend seven or more hours in the saddle, while most marathon runners will finish within three to five hours. The sheer length of time spent riding places unique demands on comfort, endurance and pacing. As Norman puts it, “you're asking the body to maintain an efficient position for hours on end.”

TRAINING

Preparing for a century ride is largely about accumulating saddle time and adapting the body to spending long periods on the bike. “You need to get very specific; specific time in the saddle — building up to around two-thirds of your target distance — and specific positional durability on the bike,” suggests Norman.

Indeed, it’s the position you hold on the bike while generating a smooth cadence that will increase speed and efficiency while mitigating the chances of picking up an injury. Time in the saddle is key. As Norman concludes: “You can't really cheat your way to that sort of distance.” The build-up to a century varies according to your current ability, but for someone who regularly rides 20-30 miles, a lead-in of around six weeks should be enough to elicit the necessary muscular and cardiovascular adaptations.

Running, however, places greater demands on the musculoskeletal system and requires a more gradual build-up. Norman recommends patience. “You need to be incredibly specific around your training,” Norman warns. “You need to have a progressive plan, similar to biking, but the lead-in to a marathon needs to be longer, in my opinion. You need to have at least four to six months of a base to build into marathon training.”

HARDEST FOR TRAINING: MARATHON

While a century ride demands more hours of training on the bike, marathon preparation is arguably more complex. The impact forces associated with running require adaptations in the muscles, tendons and bones that simply cannot be rushed.

Norman's view is clear: although the marathon is shorter in duration, “the exertion rates are much more demanding on the body from a musculoskeletal and bone-adaptation perspective,” meaning the training build-up needs to be considerably longer and more carefully managed.

NUTRITION

If you’re an experienced cyclist, you’ve likely suffered the afflictions of the dreaded bonk. The ‘bonk’ is a term used when glycogen stored in your muscles is running dry and you hit a wall.

A century ride is fertile ground to experience this if you get your nutrition wrong, and there’s plenty of scope for error over seven or more hours in the saddle. Norman highlights the importance of taking on carbohydrates over such a protracted period of riding. "A century ride is long enough that your nutrition strategy becomes a major part of the challenge. You need to think about fuelling across a much longer duration and that needs to be practised.”

In theory, consuming 90g of carbohydrate per hour (the recommended quantity for those riding or running for more than 90 minutes) appears a relatively easy proposition, but as the hours accumulate so too does the risk of gastrointestinal distress and the body being unable to process the fuel you’re taking on. This is where many ultra-distance riders come undone; under-eating or taking on calories that your body rejects is one of the most common ways to DNF. Indeed, a 75kg rider looking to ride a moderately brisk undulating century, as many as 6,000 calories could be burned.

Marathons, by contrast, although still demanding a good deal of fuelling, are completed over a shorter period of time, usually before flavour fatigue sets in. Flavour fatigue is a very real issue among endurance athletes which occurs when the thought of yet more sweet and sugary carb-loaded fuel makes going hungry more appealing than eating. For marathon runners, where the rule of thumb is 1 kcal per kg per km, this is unlikely to be a problem. The shorter duration will also reduce the chances of GI distress.

Hardest for nutrition: 100 miles

A century outing, while not quite in the realms of an ultra ride, should still be undertaken with fuel and hydration very much in mind. Unlike a marathon, nutrition for a 100-mile ride should be part of the training plan to make the ride as smooth as possible.

Kit and equipment

First and foremost you'll need a bicycle. Then come the cycling shoes, bib shorts, helmet, glasses, lights, pump, inner tubes, tools and navigation. The kit list for a century ride is surprisingly extensive, and will also leave a sizeable dent in your bank account. An entry-level set-up could easily reach and breach £2,000.

It's unlikely that your chain breaker or third spare tube will ever leave your saddle bag, but a belt-and-braces approach is sensible when you're potentially several hours from home. The bike itself also requires preparation – batteries charged, brakes checked, tyres inspected and bolts torqued.

Then there's navigation. Unless you're following a well-signposted event, a century ride often requires a GPS head unit and route planning. Just don't forget to charge it.

First and foremost you will need a pair of trainers… and, well, not a lot else really. Although depending on how deep your pockets are, a good pair of running shoes can be bought for as much as £150, with entry-level models sitting somewhere around the £50 mark. Obviously a sweat wicking running shirt and comfortable pair of shorts are non-negitiable. Some marathon runners go that extra mile and splash out on a pair of compression socks. And then of course there’s the all-important watch – because if it’s not on Strava, as the saying goes, it did not happen.

Hardest for kit and equipment: 100 miles

Century rides require forethought, lots of planning and pockets bulging with spares and tools. There’s also the added complication of having to transport your bike to the start of the ride or race and then clean any crud picked up over the course of the outing.

Running? Just put on your shirt, shoes and shorts and step into the fray. Simples.

The final scores on the doors...

From a logistical standpoint, there is only one winner. The century ride is rife with "what ifs" – mechanicals, navigation errors, fuelling issues and weather changes. The marathon is, at least on paper, beautifully simple. Just run.

It is when we introduce impact and training load that the waters become murkier.

Training for a marathon is anything but straightforward. Without a structured build-up, there is a genuine risk of injury. I've made the mistake before, rushing into longer runs and limping away with shin splints or hip problems. As Norman points out, marathon preparation needs patience, progression and months of conditioning before race day arrives.

Cycling presents its own unique challenges. The glutes, quads and core must be conditioned, and perhaps more importantly, riders must learn to remain comfortable and efficient on the bike for seven or more hours. That asks questions of the entire body, not just the legs.

So, is a marathon the running equivalent of a century ride? In some respects, yes. Both demand commitment and consistency. But they are challenging in different ways.

Objectively, the marathon probably edges it. The training build-up is longer and under-preparation can come with severe consequences. Norman's verdict is clear: despite being shorter in duration, the marathon places greater demands on the musculoskeletal system and requires more careful preparation.

Subjectively? I'm still not convinced. As I crunch my way up another 12 percent climb on a ride that was meant to be an easy lunchtime spin, I'm reminded that seven hours on a bike can feel like a very long time indeed. For me, that's enough to give the nod to the century ride.

CW: How did you get into cycling?
OP: I started off running, doing local cross-country races. My uncle [Andy Peace] won the 3 Peaks Cyclo-cross race four times, so I got into cycling through cyclo-cross. I joined my local club [Bronte Tykes], raced on the local circuits, and gradually as I went through the age groups things got more serious. I raced internationally as a junior and was picked up by the Picnic development team.

CW: How were your two seasons as an U23?
OP: All of Picnic's development riders live on site in Sittard, in the Netherlands, where there are 12 houses with two riders in each. I shared a house with Jacob Bush, who is a really good mate. I really enjoyed my two years living there, and this team is great for developing riders, not just physically but mentally in lots of different situations.

CW: What sort of rider are you?
OP: I'm still exploring, but for sure I am more of a climber. I prefer the shorter stuff like in the Ardennes, but I've also really enjoyed the longer mountain stages that I've done so far.

CW: How are you adapting to life in the World Tour?
OP: It's clearly a big step up physically, and being in the bunch is obviously faster, as when the racing is on it's really on, but it also feels more comfortable. Because everyone's at such a high level and knows how to ride a bike, racing is more predictable. In the U23 scene, everyone's scrapping around, willing to risk it all to get to the bottom of the climb first. There's more trust in a World Tour bunch.

CW: How has your training evolved?
OP: I've changed coaches, and the main change has been the amount of intensity I've been doing, especially more VO2max stuff from December onwards. It works for me and has helped me to improve a lot.

Oliver Peace's training diary

Monday: VO2max intervals This was the last day of a three-day block and there were four sets of intervals. I started with four times 90 seconds at Zone 5, so around 490 watts, with 45-second rest periods. Then it was five reps of 60 seconds at the same intensity, with 30 seconds off. The third block was six lots of 40 seconds with 20 seconds' rest. In the last hour I did 10 reps of 30 seconds at the same power, with 30 seconds' rest.
Total riding: 4hr 55m

Tuesday: Rest day Usually I like to ride to the cafe for an hour on a rest day and meet guys who are returning from their own training, but this time I took the day off.
Total riding: 0hr

Wednesday: Sprint intervals This was mostly a Zone 2 endurance ride but after 30 minutes I did three lots of one-minute max efforts with 10-15 minutes' recovery in between. I also did two five-second sprints, and two 10-seconds sprints. My maximum power was 1,190 watts.
Total riding: 4hr 10min

Thursday: Threshold session After a 45-minute warm-up, I did two intervals of 20 minutes in Zone 4, which is 365 watts, just below 5W/kg. I then did four two-minute Zone 5 efforts with three minutes recovery in between, followed by four lots of five minutes at 400 watts, with just four minutes between each effort. I used the same climb for all the efforts.
Total riding: 4hr 15min

Friday: Recovery ride This was a day off, and even though it was raining I still went out for an hour to spin the legs. Depending on my racing schedule, I usually go to the gym a couple of times a week, and at specific points of the year - such as before the Tour Down Under - I'll go to the sauna and have hot baths.
Total riding: 1hr 5min

Saturday: EMOM spikes I fluctuated between Zone 1 and low Zone 3 for most of this ride, and in the third hour I did two 10-minute efforts at 300 watts with EMOM [every minute on the minute] spikes for 10 seconds at 420 watts. In the final hour, I had two eight-minute Zone 5 efforts, so around 425 watts. It's nice just to go out and just ride, but I prefer doing efforts and having a structured ride, so I enjoy days like this more.
Total riding: 4hr

Sunday: VO2max intervals This was the exact same session as Monday: five hours with four sets of VO2max blocks of between 30 and 90 seconds. I felt a lot better than I had on Monday, and was able to push a little bit more, especially in the last hour. My Training Stress Score for this day was 266-quite high. I didn't feel magic after coming back from the Tour Down Under, so this was a productive training week and it was nice to do some grippy efforts ahead of my next goals.
Total riding: 5hr 5min

Total riding: 23 hours, 30 mins

Whereas homeostasis is the body's attempt to keep vital signs within a very tight, static range, allostasis is the active process of adaptation. Allostatic load is the body's running total of stress. Every challenge - a hard training ride, poor sleep, work pressure, illness, travel, even emotional strain - triggers stress systems whose purpose is to adapt and reach a 'new normal'. Provided the stress doses are manageable, this is a healthy process.

It's how you adapt and get fitter. "While allostasis is the healthy process of the body changing its internal state to match external demands- such as your heart rate rising during a steep climb - allostatic load is the physiological price the body pays for that adaptation over time," says Professor Sebastian Sitko.

When stress is frequent, intense or long-lasting, and recovery is incomplete, the strain starts to build up. Over time, this cumulative "wear and tear" can affect mood, immunity, energy levels and long-term health.

What is allostatic load?

Allostatic load is the cumulative strain that builds when those demands keep stacking up without enough recovery. "Allostasis is how the body adapts to challenges," says Professor Mike Gleeson. "But every adaptation has an energy cost." In simple terms, your body doesn't try to stay at one fixed point - it constantly adjusts to meet demand. Training, racing, work stress, travel and lack of sleep all require adjustment.

"For a cyclist, this load is not just the sum of kilometres ridden or total kilojoules burned," says Sitko. "It is the integration of training stress, environmental factors like heat or altitude, and psychosocial stressors such as career pressures or lack of sleep." The body does not distinguish between the stress of a VO2max interval and the stress of a high-pressure deadline at work; they both draw on the same recovery resources.

How does allostatic load affect cyclists?

Allostatic load doesn't mean training hard is harmful. "Stress is necessary for adaptation," explains Gleeson. "The problem is sustained overload without adequate restoration. An athlete doesn't experience stress in compartments." When the total load rises too high, early warning signs can include stalled progress, unusually high perceived effort, irritability, low motivation and more frequent colds.

"In my experience, one of the most telling signs is a 'muffled' heart rate response," says Sitko. "If during a high-intensity effort your power is failing, yet your heart rate refuses to rise to its typical training zones, this can indicate autonomic nervous system fatigue, where the body effectively applies a 'governor' to prevent further damage."

Other manifestations include a loss of explosive 'snap' in the legs, disrupted sleep patterns despite deep physical exhaustion, and an increase in perceived exertion during routine efforts. "The athlete is capable of riding, but the physiological ceiling has been significantly lowered," adds Sitko.

To mitigate the risk of progressing into overtraining or relative energy deficiency (REDs), cyclists must move beyond simply tracking external metrics such as power or training stress score (TSS), and begin monitoring internal response markers. "One of the most effective protocols is the use of heart rate variability (HRV) as a morning readiness check," suggests Sitko.

A consistent downward trend in HRV is a clear signal to prioritise recovery over intensity. "Addressing the energy availability component is also critical," he adds. "Many cyclists trigger REDs by trying to stay lean while increasing training volume. Ensuring that carbohydrate intake scales with training intensity is a non-negotiable requirement for hormonal health and bone density."

OVERLOAD ALERT: IDENTIFY, ADAPT, RECOVER

How to identify
- Hard sessions feel unusually difficult: Power drops while perceived effort rises.
- Muted heart-rate response: "Your heart rate may refuse to rise to typical zones," says Sitko.
- Loss of 'snap' in the legs: Explosive efforts feel flat or sluggish.
- Sleep disruption: Fatigue is high but sleep becomes restless.
- Mood changes: Irritability, low motivation or mental fog.
- More frequent illness: Repeated colds or lingering infections.

How to respond
- Prioritise sleep and recovery days.
- Match carbohydrate intake to training load.
- Track HRV or readiness markers.
- Adjust training when life stress is high.
- Maintain consistent fuelling to avoid cumulative strain.

Are you the kind of cyclist who heads to the gym to lift weights, or do you see every minute off the bike as time wasted? The role of strength training in cycling has long been debated, especially when training time is limited.

Research shows that resistance exercises such as squats and deadlifts can boost cycling power, strength and endurance, and gym work is now routine among professional riders. Yet many amateurs still avoid it, wary of bulky legs, fatigue or injury, and short on time.

An alternative is on-bike "torque training": grinding a big gear at low cadence to build strength while you ride. It's not a new idea, but until recently the evidence has been mixed, leaving cyclists unsure whether it can really match the benefits of the gym.

New research may help settle the debate. A 2025 study published in Biology of Sport by Pallares and colleagues directly compared 10 weeks of heavy squats with on-bike maximal pedal strokes, matching intensity, volume and recovery between groups.

Thirty-seven trained male cyclists maintained their usual riding programme. Twelve added high-intensity, full-range squats on a Smith machine at around 70% of their one-rep max (roughly a 15-rep load, but completing seven per set), while another 12 performed short sets of low-cadence, all-out pedal strokes in a hard gear on a 6% gradient - seven maximal pedal revolutions per set on their own bikes. A control group of 13 riders continued their normal training without additional resistance work.

The researchers measured leg muscle size, tendon thickness, strength on and off the bike, and markers of aerobic performance such as maximal sustainable power. Both resistance-training groups improved quadriceps size and muscle strength, while the on-bike group also showed similar gains in tendon thickness without increased discomfort.

The researchers concluded that, in this context, on-bike strength training could produce comparable performance improvements to traditional gym-based sessions.

For amateur cyclists short on time, the takeaway is appealing: high-intensity, low-cadence pedalling may deliver many of the benefits of weighted squats without a trip to the gym. Improvements in cycling efficiency were modest, but gains in maximum sustainable power and time to exhaustion suggest real-world performance benefits.

The study also highlights the risks of skipping resistance training altogether. When riders stopped strength work after the intervention, researchers observed measurable declines in both muscle mass and strength, underlining the need for ongoing resistance training, whether in the gym or on the bike.

Gym work versus cycling strength

Sebastian Sitko, the author of Cycling 2.0: Evidence-based training for peak performance on the bike, is a long-time coach and researcher specialising in strength training for cyclists. "In cycling, strength is rarely defined by raw force alone," he explains. "It's best understood as the ability to produce and sustain torque across a specific range of cadences.

While a gym athlete might measure strength by a one-rep max, a cyclist views it through the power equation: Power = Torque x Cadence. How that power is produced depends on the challenge - sprinting for the finish line versus grinding up a 20% gradient."

Sitko breaks cycling strength into two complementary types. Neuromuscular power, or maximal torque, is the ability to recruit the greatest number of muscle fibres instantly-crucial in the opening seconds of a sprint or standing start. In the study, this was measured as maximal dynamic force during both squats and on-bike efforts.

Functional torque, sometimes called "on-bike strength", is the ability to push a heavy gear at low cadence (around 50-70rpm) without the heart rate spiking, the sort of effort needed to grind up steep climbs or into headwinds when momentum drops. It's exactly the type of strength riders trained in the study through short, low-cadence, all-out pedal sets on a steep gradient.

Crossover benefits

Sitko continues: "Muscular endurance is perhaps the most critical. It's the ability to produce a high percentage of your maximal force repeatedly for hours. It's the difference between climbing a 10% gradient for one minute versus 20." For endurance cyclists targeting sportives, road races or gravel events, this is often decisive.

"In general, by increasing a cyclist's force ceiling through off-bike strength training, each pedal stroke becomes a smaller fraction of their maximum capacity," he adds. "This improves metabolic efficiency, letting the rider sustain higher power outputs for longer periods while delaying fatigue."

So some form of strength training clearly benefits cyclists, whether you're a track sprinter, road racer or weekend rider looking to ride faster for longer. The bigger question is how best to do it: on the bike or in the gym? "When discussing the balance between gym and on-bike work, I like to think of it as the difference between building a larger engine and tuning that engine for the road," Sitko explains.

"The gym is the only environment where we can truly maximise a cyclist's force ceiling. The bike is a low-impact, high-repetition environment, so it's physiologically difficult to recruit enough muscle fibres for true strength gains while pedalling. Heavy compound lifts - squats, deadlifts, Bulgarian split squats - allow us to overload the musculoskeletal system, strengthen connective tissues, and build structural integrity in ways that aren't possible on two wheels."

Gym work also offers benefits beyond performance. "This off-the-bike work isn't just about raw power; it's about creating a robust chassis that can handle thousands of pedal strokes over a competitive season without breaking down. It's also better for injury prevention, especially by strengthening antagonist muscles, and for improving bone mass, which can be a serious concern for cyclists."

On-bike strength work, by contrast, is more cycling-specific and directly transferable to riding, and for time-crunched riders it's easier to integrate into regular training. "While the gym builds potential force, on-bike sessions help ensure that force is applied efficiently and specifically to the mechanics of cycling," Sitko says. Still, he cautions that the science is evolving.

"On the bike, we're trying to teach muscles to apply that new strength through a full 360-degree pedal stroke. I emphasise 'trying' because the evidence is mixed. The on-bike protocols with the most scientific backing typically involve a few hard, low-cadence pedal strokes in a heavy gear, where momentum is minimal and torque is high."

As Sitko suggests, the science is still far from settled. A study published earlier this month in British Medical Bulletin found that cyclists who combined endurance training with heavy gym-based strength work improved several key performance markers, including anaerobic power and aerobic capacity.

By contrast, riders performing "specific" on-bike strength sessions-low-cadence, high-resistance drills - saw no comparable gains. That finding contradicts the earlier study and suggests traditional gym work may offer benefits that on-bike strength training cannot. Although the research by Vicari and colleagues focused on off-road cyclists, who typically face higher torque and lower cadence demands, the results are likely relevant across other cycling disciplines.

Going to the gym has benefits broader than just cycling performance, particularly for older cyclists and masters athletes. A large Norwegian study published in 2024 surveyed 555 male masters cyclists aged 35 and over, and found that, while many reduced or stopped strength work during the race season, their primary motivations, particularly among those over 50, were health-driven: protecting bone health, reducing injury risk, maintaining muscle mass and supporting functional capacity.

That rationale is well supported by wider research. Resistance training is one of the most effective non-pharmacological strategies for increasing or preserving bone mineral density, counteracting age-related sarcopenia (muscle-fibre loss) improving insulin sensitivity and glucose metabolism, and maintaining neuromuscular function and balance - all critical factors in healthy ageing. For masters athletes, strength training is as much about long-term health as it is about immediate performance.

Complementary approaches

So, can cyclists ditch the gym for good? "Ultimately, the choice of environment depends on the specific adaptation we are chasing," explains Sitko. "Muscular endurance and torque efficiency may be better suited for the bike.

You simply cannot replicate the metabolic demands or the specific joint angles of a steep climb in a weights room." Yet that doesn't mean on-bike work replaces the gym. "On the other hand," adds Sitko, "maximal force and explosive power are always better suited for the gym because you need the stability of the floor and the ability to lift near-maximal loads to trigger significant neuromuscular changes."

In reality, the most effective approach is to combine both gym and on-bike strength work. "A sophisticated training programme treats these two environments as complementary: the gym builds the capacity, and the bike refines the application, ensuring that the athlete is not just strong in a general sense, but powerful and efficient in the saddle."

For many amateur cyclists, however, time is the deciding factor. "If I had to choose between one of them for a time-crunched cyclist, I would go for gym training and would ditch on-bike strength," concludes Sitko. In other words, don't rush to cancel that gym membership just yet: lifting weights remains one of the most reliable ways to build strength, resilience and long-term performance on the bike.

ON-BIKE STRENGTH: SAMPLE SESSIONS

Here are two, evidence-based sessions to try in your own training. If you're not lifting in the gym, include one maximal torque session and one sustained low-cadence session per week, keeping overall volume manageable. If you are strength training off the bike, replace the maximal torque work with heavy compound lifts and retain the longer, low-cadence efforts as cycling-specific transfer. Perform sessions when fresh, stay seated and prioritise recovery to maximise gains.

1. Max-torque micro-bursts (neuromuscular focus)

Purpose To improve maximal dynamic force and neuromuscular recruitment - your ability to generate high torque quickly at low cadence. This is the on-bike equivalent of lifting heavy weight for low reps.

Terrain Gradient: 4-8% steady climb (or trainer in resistance mode) Surface: Smooth, seated climbing preferred

Gear and cadence Gear: Big gear, typically 50/11-15 outdoors or equivalent resistance indoors. Cadence: 40-60 rpm The gear should feel "borderline grindy" from the first pedal stroke.

Main set From near standstill or very low rolling speed 6-8 sets Each set = 6-8 maximal pedal strokes per leg (roughly 10-12 total revolutions) Every pedal stroke is all-out, maximal intent Stay seated, focus on driving through the full 360° stroke Full recovery: 2.5-3 minutes easy spin between sets

What it's doing Increasing peak torque production Improving rate of force development Enhancing recruitment of high-threshold motor units Potentially increasing cycling-specific maximal strength

Frequency: 1-2 times per week Ideally separated by at least 48 hours Best placed early in a ride when fresh

2. Sustained low-cadence (functional torque focus)

Purpose To improve functional torque and muscular endurance - the ability to push a heavy gear at low cadence without cardiovascular drift. This bridges maximal strength and sustained climbing power.

Terrain Gradient: 3-6% steady climb or trainer Long uninterrupted effort preferred

Gear and cadence Gear: Big gear (e.g., 50/13-17 depending on slope) Cadence: 50-65 rpm Effort should feel muscular, not aerobic-limited

Main set 4-6 repetitions 4-6 minutes per interval Ride at 88-95% of FTP Cadence strictly 50-65 rpm Stay seated 3 minutes easy spin recovery

What it's doing Improving torque sustainability Raising sub-threshold force tolerance Reinforcing motor patterning under load Potentially improving time-to-exhaustion at high steady efforts.

Frequency: Once a week Best used in base or early build phase

You started the season with a stage win in Australia. Was it a good winter's training?

Really good. I shut down last season in early October, as I knew I was doing the Tour Down Under. In November, those of us going to Australia had a two-week training camp, riding 30-hour weeks. I came off that big endurance block well, and then did some track races at Grenchen [in Switzerland] in December. The plan was to copy a similar build-up to what I did with Quick-Step a few years ago: a big overload training camp into an intense track block. It worked well again.

How is this team different from Quick-Step?

I was the third sprinter in my two years at Quick-Step and it was the perfect stepping stone to where I'm at now. At this team, I have been given the opportunity to become a leader and have a more tailored race programme.

The best thing about NSN is that some of my best mates are here and the culture is really similar to what it's like on the track squad.

What are your aims for this season?

On my day, I can comfortably beat second-tier sprinters, but I want to be beating the very best. Finishing second twice in Vuelta a España stages last year really fired me up, and my goal before I retire is to win a stage in all three Grand Tours, alongside an Olympic gold medal. I'll ride the Giro d'Italia and maybe the Vuelta this year.

How will you fit track into your calendar in the coming years?

Claiming team pursuit silver in Paris and being so close to gold gave me a taste of what it could be like, so I want to be at Los Angeles 2028. But I won't ride too much track until 2028, as my focus is on the road and winning Grand Tour stages. That said, if it fits, I may ride track at the Commonwealth Games this summer.

ETHAN VERNON'S TRAINING DIARY

The week: 5-11 January
Training for: Tour Down Under
Location: Andorra

Monday
AM: Endurance ride; PM: Sauna

Today was a basic five-hour endurance ride on the flat roads in Spain, where it was 10 degrees warmer than in Andorra. In the afternoon, I spent 25 minutes in the gym's sauna to acclimatise for Australia.
Total riding time: 5hr

Tuesday
Rest day

I tend to alternate what I do on rest days: completely off the bike for one - like this one - then a small ride on the other. To prepare for the time difference in Australia, as a team we were using an app called Timeshifter, which calculates when you should start adapting to the time zone. It meant going to sleep and waking up 30 minutes earlier every day during this week. Did it work? A bit.
Total riding time: Ohr

Wednesday
AM: Tabata Intervals; PM: Sauna

My coach Liam Holohan calls this the Tabata Mix. It consists of three 10-minute blocks behind an e-bike to replicate race pace. In the first one, it's 40 seconds on, 20 seconds off; the second is 30-30s, and the third block is 20-40s. Later in the day, I went in the sauna again for 25 minutes.
Total riding time: 3hr 30 mins

Total riding time: 3hr 30min

Thursday
AM: Sprint session; PM: Heat training

Most weeks, I do a 10-minute ramp effort to threshold - my FTP is around 400 watts - up a climb, then watch my heart rate drift for 90 seconds. It's to check how I'm progressing. After doing that, I had a Zone 2 tempo session that included seven finishing sprints of 10 to 20 seconds, with a team-mate leading me out at peak speed for 20 seconds. Half of our team is based in Andorra, which allows us to practise our leadouts. In the afternoon, I rode really easy, sitting at 140 watts for 45 minutes on the turbo in the paint suit.
Total riding time: 3hr 30min

Friday
AM: Endurance ride; PM: Sauna

I did a basic ride sitting between Zones 1 and 2, with an average of 230 watts, followed by 25 minutes in the sauna. I'd like to do more heat training, but I do suffer quite a bit, so we have to manage how much. It clearly works, as I went on to win in Australia on the hottest day of the year.
Total riding time: 4hr

Saturday
Cafe ride

This was just a very easy spin to the cafe with some mates. In the winter, there's too much snow to do much else in Andorra, but on rest days in the summer I'll often go into the woods and tracks around La Massana and ride my e-mountain bike. I'll put it into turbo mode and barely turn the pedals - it's a lot of fun and doesn't tire me out. Total riding time: 1hr

Sunday
AM: Recovery ride and heat training; PM: Gym

I rode outside for an hour really easy, and then did 45 minutes in the paint suit. In the afternoon, I went to the gym for an hour and 15 minutes, doing all the usual stuff: squats, leg press, calf raises.
Total riding: 1hr 45min

TOTAL RIDING: 18HR 45MIN

WEEK'S WISDOM

Heat adaptation doesn't require high-tech methods. Look at how Vernon prepared for Australia: simply by adding short sauna sessions and easy turbo rides in a paint suit. The principle is straightforward: expose your body to heat regularly so it learns to cope. It won't be long before the UK weather starts to warm up - why not get ready for it? Who knows, it might give you the edge on those first sunny club rides!

When Brandon McNulty crossed the line alongside Tadej Pogačar at last year's Grand Prix Cycliste de Montréal, in Canada, it was another reminder of his place among cycling's very best riders. The American has long been one of Pogačar's most trusted lieutenants at UAE Team Emirates-XRG, helping shred the peloton on climbs such as the Col de Val Louron at the 2022 Tour de France.

Yet, McNulty stands apart from many of his peers in one surprising way: he trains far less than most pros, typically riding just 15 to 16 hours a week around his home in Arizona. The 27-year-old is part of a growing group of elite and professional cyclists who follow a low-volume training plan. "Low volume" is, in this context, a relative term: we're talking about less than 20 hours per week for professionals, and less than 10 hours per week for amateurs.

Since the pioneering work of athletics coach Arthur Lydiard in the 1950s, "more is better" has been the accepted wisdom in endurance sports. Olympic swimmers would rack up 35 hours per week, elite runners upwards of 100 miles a week, and professional triathletes trained hours equivalent to those of a full-time job.

"If you ask most people, 'How many hours do professionals do?', they'll give you a number like 30 hours a week," says McNulty's teammate Jay Vine. "But that's not even close. There are a lot more efforts involved, but a lot fewer hours at sub-endurance." The Australian explains that he is training considerably less now than he did as a neo-pro on Alpecin-Fenix.

High-volume endurance training works, up to a certain point. For many athletes, that point is injury or burnout. For others, it's mental limitations that set in before physical ones. Boredom, anxiety, or disordered eating have ruined athletes who push themselves too far.

Ryan O'Boyle, an elite cyclist from the US, switched to low-volume for greater life balance. "I used to train 20 to 24 hours a week, but being married and working a full-time career takes its toll physically and mentally."

O'Boyle notes that training less was traditionally seen as lazy or weak, but has in recent years become acceptable. The shift came as the old-school 'hardmen' of cycling, those putting in 30-40 hour weeks, saw others getting faster on much lower volumes. The 'long, slow distance' model of endurance training wasn't necessarily the best approach.

Those riding less were winning more. They were fresher, faster and punchier. They seemed to have more energy, a spring in their step.

As cycling becomes faster and faster, races get shorter and shorter in duration. That makes mega-aerobic fitness less valuable than before. When the longest Grand Tour stages lasted seven or eight hours, it made sense to build your engine as big as possible. But now, the longest stages are four to five hours, with some stages lasting only two to three hours, at an average of 50kph (31mph).

In 2026, more races will be decided by speed and explosiveness than by ultra endurance. The slogging is over. Professional cycling is no longer about aerobic endurance; it's about race-winning speed.

Some professional cyclists train as little as 10-15 hours per week, even during the base season. They focus on structure, precision, intensity distribution, and recovery (see boxout sample week). Low-volume cyclists focus on quality over quantity. They have identified a tipping point of sorts, the point beyond which increased training volume leads to inferior performance.

For some, the limits are set by life circumstances: work, family, travel, and other adult responsibilities. For others, the limits are self-imposed, learned through experience and failure.

For many riders, a lingering doubt remains: isn't reducing volume taking a risk? Won't it mean that, in the long term, endurance will decline?

Jeroen Swart, head of performance at UAE Team Emirates-XRG, is a strong proponent of low-volume training. "Many professional athletes make the mistake of doing too much training or too little recovery," he says. "One of the biggest things that I introduced to UAE Team Emirates when I joined in late 2018 was increasing the load monitoring and backing off [the hours] of those riders who were doing far too much. And by doing less, performance increased."

The key to maximising performance is consistent, high-quality training. It doesn't matter if you are training five hours a week or 25, if your training quality is low, you will leave watts on the table. We've all heard of "junk miles", a term that applies to unfocused, purposeless pedalling. These rides can be a waste of time, especially for riders on a low-volume training plan. If you're only going to ride for an hour, you want to get the most out of it.

A high-quality session stimulates physiological adaptations similar to those gained from low-intensity, high-volume training - but in less time. Low-volume training doesn't necessarily mean doing a greater number of high-intensity sessions. Most pros still do just two to three high-intensity sessions per week, similar to amateurs; the difference is simply that they add many more endurance hours around them.

Few riders understand this better than Neal Fryett, the 46-year-old elite eSports racer. In between dad duties, the American knocks out savagely hard interval sessions in the lead-up to a goal race. "After 90 minutes of endurance riding, I'll do three sets of 12 times 30/15s with five minutes' rest between sets," he says. "I'll average 500 to 550 watts for the 30-second intervals while sprinting for the first five seconds of each."

Perhaps not surprisingly, Fryett keeps his easy days easy. "I'll target two hard sessions [per week] with the rest of the week being a mix of easy to moderate endurance riding. One day completely off the bike every week, sometimes two if needed. Being an older athlete, I likely need two more recovery days per week than an athlete half my age."

Switching to lower-volume training isn't risk-free. Suddenly doing VO2max intervals every day, with no easy riding, would quickly lead to burnout. Dropping volume too drastically would also backfire. The key is balancing training stimulus with recovery. Most coaches and physiologists agree that two to three high-intensity sessions per week (efforts at Zone 3 or above) is the sweet spot for long-term progress. Beginners should aim for one or two such sessions.

Here is the smart science part, the secret sauce. Interval training has increasingly focused on riding at the highest repeatable intensity within a given zone. In simple terms, that means structuring sessions so you spend more time at the top end of the target effort. Instead of a steady four-hour endurance ride at around 65% of FTP, many pros now break the work into intervals at 70-75%. For example, a session might consist of three 20-minute efforts at 75% FTP. Add in the warm-up, recovery and cool-down, and the ride lasts about two hours instead of four.

Is this time-saving training really superior to the old-school 'long, slow distance' model? It's difficult to say for sure. But we do know that both types of endurance training are effective, and if you only have two hours to train, you need to make that time count.

One of the biggest advantages of low-volume training is reducing fatigue, allowing you to start each session in a fresher state. When you're only training eight hours per week, it is fairly easy to build ample recovery hours between your two to three high-intensity sessions of the week.

Then again, training on tired legs is a key component in building fatigue resistance. Professional cyclists rarely arrive at an interval session completely fresh. Instead, they begin their VO2max intervals with significant fatigue in their legs. Hitting PB powers is rarely the aim; more important is adapting to the load to tolerate fatigue.

Of course, not every rider requires a high degree of fatigue resistance. For example, the amateur crit racer who rarely races for longer than 90 minutes at a time, relying on his sprint above his endurance, may get away with as little as five hours of training per week. For these riders, it's more important to focus on repeatable explosive power.

The key point is this: the right volume for you depends on what type of races or events you are targeting. If fatigue resistance is going to be a major factor, you may need to keep your training volume as high as possible.

That said, there are some sneaky ways to improve fatigue resistance by other means. "Durability - that ability to maintain power later in a race- is very much affected by your functional strength on the bike," says Swart. "As you get tired, if you retain the ability to produce torque, you can continue to produce power."

The performance chief explains that in the winter, UAE riders hit the gym three times a week and do "very specific exercises focusing on functional strength". Torque training has been shown to improve fatigue resistance - without spending upwards of five hours on the bike. An hour per week of torque work can make a real difference.

If you're weighing up how much volume you should be doing, first take a long hard look at your current training and lifestyle. Are you optimising everything for performance? Take a close look at your fuelling strategy, recovery protocol, pre-workout routine, and stress levels. Only once you can honestly say that nothing else can be improved should you consider an increase in volume.

Strength work, running, torque training and heat training are great ways to improve performance without needing to find extra hours in your busy schedule.

And remember that recovery should be made time-efficient too. Eat well, relax with your feet up, switch off, have a massage, and ensure you're sleeping well. You won't maximise your performance gains unless the quality of your recovery matches the quality of your sessions.

And the next time you think about increasing your training volume, first ask yourself: Is there some other way I could spend that extra hour that would be even more effective?

FIVE TIPS FOR TIME-CRUNCHED AMATEURS

• Focus on quality in every session
• Stop chasing junk miles; when riding endurance, target 60-75% FTP
• Maintain life balance; don't let cycling take away from family, friends, work, and 'me time'
• Consistency beats hero weeks
• Design your training around your goals

Veins are a vital part of the circulatory system, returning deoxygenated blood to the heart. Cyclists often have prominent leg veins due to low body fat, intense blood flow, greater blood volume – as much as three litres more than a sedentary person – and repetitive muscular contraction. While they can look dramatic, visible veins are usually a sign of efficient circulation rather than disease. “The prominent veins we see in athletes, particularly cyclists, are usually healthy,” explains Dr Peter Finigan. “They reflect vascular adaptation, low body fat and well-developed leg musculature rather than disease.”

Varicose veins – enlarged, swollen and sometimes painful veins – develop when valves inside the vein weaken and allow blood to pool. Understanding the difference, recognising symptoms and knowing when to seek advice can help cyclists protect both performance and long-term vascular health.

What are veins?

Veins carry blood back to the heart, and feature one-way valves to prevent blood from flowing backwards, especially in the legs. When those valves weaken, blood can pool, stretching the vein walls. Varicose veins may appear twisted or rope like and can cause aching, heaviness, swelling or skin changes. While varicose veins themselves rarely cause deep vein thrombosis (DVT), prolonged immobility, dehydration or long-haul travel increase clot risk.

Why does it matter to cyclists?

Cycling is generally beneficial for vein health. “The repeated contraction of the calf and thigh muscles acts as a ‘muscular pump’, helping push blood back toward the heart and reducing stagnation,” says Professor Neil Smart. That’s one reason endurance riders often display prominent veins – blood flow is strong and the surrounding muscles are well developed.

“Cyclists often develop ropey or bulging veins on their thighs or calves due to enhanced circulation and muscle training,” says Finigan. “These are healthy veins, not varicose veins, and usually regress if training intensity drops.” However, high training loads and sustained climbing can temporarily increase venous pressure in the legs, making veins appear more pronounced.

What does the research say?

Research consistently shows that regular aerobic exercise improves venous return by enhancing the muscular pump mechanism. A 2019 study published in Frontiers in Physiology found that eight weeks of structured cycling significantly improved venous return, even in older adults. Smart explains: “When leg muscles contract rhythmically, as they do in cycling, they actively assist venous return. Over time this improves vascular efficiency and supports overall circulatory health.” That said, genetics still play a major role. Some individuals are predisposed to valve weakness, and studies suggest elite endurance athletes may show a slightly higher incidence of varicose veins than the general population.

What can go wrong?

While prominent veins are typically harmless, cyclists should watch for warning signs: persistent swelling, throbbing pain, heaviness that doesn’t resolve with rest, skin discolouration or itching around the ankle. Tender, reddened veins may indicate superficial thrombophlebitis – usually self-limiting but worth medical review.

Varicose veins often remain visible even when legs are elevated and may worsen over time. Dehydration, prolonged travel to events and extended periods of sitting can also impair circulation. Anyone experiencing sudden calf pain, warmth or swelling should seek urgent assessment to rule out deep vein thrombosis.

Treatment and prevention

Prevention centres on maintaining healthy circulation. Regular riding, walking and strength work that targets the calf muscles all support venous return. Staying hydrated and avoiding prolonged immobility – especially during travel – are simple but effective measures. If symptoms develop, Doppler duplex ultrasound is the gold standard diagnostic tool.

Modern treatments are minimally invasive and highly effective. Options include endovenous laser ablation, radiofrequency ablation and foam sclerotherapy, all performed under local anaesthetic. “Patients treated with contemporary techniques often resume light training within a week,” says Finigan. Early assessment ensures minor problems don’t progress into more significant vascular disease.

Vein friendly habits for cyclists

• Warm-up and stretch pre-ride: calf raises, ankle circles, seated leg extensions.
• On-bike adjustments: saddle height, handlebar reach, cleat position not only aid comfort but can support circulation.
• Daily movement: elevate legs, don’t stay seated for too long, walk a few minutes every hour.
• Compression garments: medical-grade compression can reduce swelling and discomfort, particularly during long travel, though performance benefits remain debated.
• Take action: if you have veins that are persistently painful, with swelling, or skin changes, seek medical attention.

The bottom line...

For most cyclists, visible veins are a badge of training, not trouble. Regular riding supports vascular health, but genetics and age still matter. Recognising persistent symptoms and seeking timely advice ensures problems are treated early. With modern therapies available, treating troublesome veins is straightforward and rarely performance-limiting. Staying well hydrated, avoiding long periods without movement, and giving your legs adequate recovery can also support healthy blood flow and reduce unnecessary strain on the veins.

For generations of cyclists, the bathroom scales have held an outsized authority. Weight has been framed as destiny: lighter equals faster, and ‘race weight’ is the holy grail. Professional cycling has given us a steady stream of featherweight heroes to look up to. But strip away the mythology and a more nuanced truth emerges, especially for amateurs, masters riders, and anyone who isn’t chasing GC success in a Grand Tour.

Striking the balance between low weight and an optimal amount of muscle isn’t easy, but it is essential, as muscle provides power and durability in the saddle, aids recovery, and supports long-term health off the bike. In a sporting culture obsessed with rapid weight loss – from fasting protocols to appetite-suppressing drugs – cyclists need to be aware that if they want to lose weight, they need to do so cautiously so as to protect muscle.

Race-weight myths

The concept of ‘race weight’ works for elite climbers racing hour-long ascents at the limits of human physiology. But most cyclists, riding sportives, time trials, Audaxes, ultra-distance challenges or club runs, require sustained power and fatigue resistance. “On the flat, reducing body weight has very little, if any, impact on performance,” says Alan McCubbin, a senior lecturer in the department of nutrition and dietetics at Monash University, Australia. “And if that weight loss includes some loss of muscle, which it usually does, then power can be reduced, impairing performance.”

This goes against a deep cultural pull in cycling, McCubbin concedes. Many riders desire to “look like a cyclist”, idolising skinny climbers and GC winners, even if that means fighting their body’s natural shape and size. “Some people will always have a naturally lighter build and lower body fat, just as some people have green eyes, others brown eyes,” he says. “Genetics matter.”

Crucially, lighter does not always mean faster – even for the pros. “Muscle mass matters for power, and power really matters for shorter, punchy climbs,” adds McCubbin. “Look at the Classics like the Tour of Flanders or Amstel Gold. These races are often won by bigger riders with more muscle who are never in contention for stage wins on long mountain climbs.” Only on long climbs does power-to-weight hold the trump card, which is why the skinniest riders often have the highest profile. The rise of fasting, meal skipping and appetite-suppressing drugs has made rapid weight loss much more common.

McCubbin suggests this has made losing weight an even greater risk to performance: “The rate of weight loss is important in relation to the degree of calorie deficit required. The larger the calorie deficit, the less likely training is fuelled optimally, and the less likely you are to get through sessions as planned.” The more rapidly you lose weight, the more likely you are to lose muscle. Under-fuelled training also makes it harder to recover properly, McCubbin explains. Muscle adaptations are held back and injury risk is increased. Even if the power-to-weight ratio improves slightly, absolute power – critical for sprints, attacks, and long, sustained efforts – is likely to decline.

Lose weight, not muscle: the key numbers

• 500 kcal/day recommended maximum calorie deficit to promote fat loss while minimising muscle loss and performance decline
• 1.6-2.2 g/kg/day optimal daily protein intake for cyclists aiming to preserve muscle during weight loss
• 2 strength sessions/week level of resistance training to maintain lean mass and neuromuscular performance during calorie restriction
• 20-40 grams amount of protein that should be consumed shortly after training to stimulate muscle repair and retention
• 60-90 grams intake of carbs per hour during intense or long sessions to maintain training quality and protect muscle
• 30% proportion of weight lost as lean mass during aggressive dieting without strength training or adequate protein

Lose fat, not muscle

In cyclists, muscle is too often regarded as unhelpful bulk, but it underpins power, resilience, and recovery. When you go on a weight loss diet, you lose both fat mass and fat-free mass – a proportion of which is muscle. “In a calorie deficit, the body is trying to cover training and basic physiology with less incoming energy,” explains Professor Stuart Phillips, research chair of skeletal muscle health in the department of kinesiology at McMaster University, Canada.

“Some of the mass lost is fat – that’s the goal – but without a strong ‘keep muscle’ stimulus the body can also draw on lean tissue, and early losses can include glycogen and associated water.” The risk rises as the deficit becomes more aggressive and key sessions are not properly fuelled with carbohydrate, or when training becomes mostly endurance volume without high-force work. When a rider restricts calories to below their daily expenditure, biology takes over and muscle is broken down.

Maintaining muscle mass does not guarantee maintaining performance, cautions Phillips. “FTP is mainly protected by keeping training quality high and recovery adequate,” he says. “If riders diet through threshold or VO2 work and chronically under-fuel for intense sessions, performance can drift down even if lean mass is reasonably preserved.” A better approach, he explains, is to periodise intake: fuel the hard sessions, taking on carbohydrate before and during them, and then create the weekly deficit by trimming discretionary calories on easier and rest days.

Those losing weight should not avoid strength work, as the body is able to increase strength without adding significantly more muscle mass. “Resistance training matters here,” says Phillips. “Two short strength sessions per week are often enough to provide a strong anabolic/neuromuscular signal to retain muscle and strength while dieting, without needing to add a lot of gym volume.”

He warns that, while the basic principles are the same for both men and women, female riders should be especially cautious about prolonged low energy availability. “If fatigue, sleep, mood, recurrent niggles or menstrual disruption show up, the plan needs adjusting quickly.”

Keep lifting

Ronny Jansson is one such rider who appreciates the importance of strength training. Now 48 and living in Alunda, Sweden, Jansson started cycling 10 years ago. At the time, he weighed 121kg. “My first ride was only 7km,” he recalls, “but it wasn’t long before the rides became 40 or 50km.” Cycling transformed his life. Within a year, simply by cycling several times a week and eating a little better, he had lost 31kg.

Jansson was born with clubfoot – feet curved into an unusual position – and has undergone 24 surgeries. Walking, standing and running had always been painful. Weight gain, he says, was hard to avoid. Since losing weight, keeping it off has been a challenge during the Swedish winter. “There’s snow, extreme cold, and much less time on the roads,” he says.

Whenever his riding volume dropped, the weight crept back on. Eventually, he found a solution – lifting weights. “At first I did three sessions [of strength training] a week,” Jansson says. “Mostly free weights, some machines. I can’t do everything because of my feet – deadlifts, for example [are impossible] – so I adapt.” This winter he upped the ante to four or five sessions a week, complementing seven to 10 hours of riding during peak season. In 2024, he rode 6,666km – almost 300 hours.

The difference wasn’t just visible. It was functional. “I feel so much better in my body,” he says. “I don’t get nearly as tired as before.” That became obvious during his solo endurance challenges. Jansson regularly rides 24-hour events to raise money for charity. Last summer, he rode 480km in 27 hours. “Compared to previous years, I noticed the difference straight away,” he says.

“No problems with my back or shoulders. I felt much stronger.” Today, Jansson weighs around 96kg – much lighter than before, but more importantly, he is stronger and the strength work hasn’t led to weight gain. His focus is no longer chasing a number. “It’s about building a body that can handle riding,” he says.

Time-limited approach

Across the Atlantic, USA Cycling certified coach Will Kirousis (tri-hard. com) has witnessed many amateur riders pay the price of weight fixation. “People hear ‘race weight’ and think there’s a magic number. Often, they just keep eating less, and performance and health both suffer. You’re better off slightly heavier and consistent than a little too light and unable to train,” he says. The practice, he adds, has now taken on a pharmaceutical dimension. “I’ve had a handful of athletes using GLP-1s [weight loss drugs Ozempic, Wegovy and Mounjaro] while training for cycling and triathlon,” he says.

Kirousis stresses that the cultural narrative is often exaggerated. While marketing around weight loss drugs promises dramatic transformations, most committed athletes aren’t chasing overnight results. “The ones focused on health and performance over the long haul are usually fine with slower change.” Where problems arise is when large training loads meet suppressed appetite. “The biggest challenge is fuelling,” Kirousis says. “Trying to do high training volume when you don’t feel like eating is really hard. If you can’t fuel or recover, you can’t progress.”

His solution mirrors the growing consensus: treat weight loss as a time-limited phase, not a constant background process. Athletes starting medication are encouraged to begin in the off-season, learn how their body responds, and adjust expectations before chasing performance goals. “Work, it needs fuel,” Kirousis says. “If you try to do lots of work with less energy coming in, the body will fuel that with your own tissue.”

Keep it gradual

If you want to lose weight without sacrificing performance, there are some “non-negotiables” in Phillips’s view. “Keep the calorie deficit modest – around 500kcal per day on average – and think in weekly terms,” he says. “Aim for slow, steady loss rather than rapid drops. The more aggressive the deficit, the greater the risk to training quality, recovery and lean mass.”

Protein intake is equally critical. “Consume at least 1.6g/kg/day, and often 1.8-2.2g/kg/day during a fat-loss phase,” Phillips advises. “Spread it across the day, ensure each meal contains a meaningful amount, and include 30–40g after training.” Just as important is fuelling key sessions. “Don’t try to diet through your hardest workouts,” he says. “Take on carbohydrates before and during intense sessions, and prioritise a proper post-training meal to support recovery.”

In terms of maintaining strength, riders should “train muscles with two brief resistance sessions per week,” Phillips continues. “Keep them consistent, heavy enough to matter, and not so high-volume that they get in the way of riding.” He suggests riders monitor performance and recovery, not just weight. “If power at a given effort is slipping, perceived exertion is climbing, or sleep and mood are worsening, adjust quickly. Fat loss can only be deemed successful if you can keep training productively.”

Problems arise when weight loss becomes the primary goal, rather than performance and well-being. Obsessing over the scales brings pressure, under-fuelling, and loss of enjoyment. McCubbin advises a broader view: “Focus on building a body that works well on and off the bike. Performance comes from consistency, not chasing numbers.” Perhaps the case of Ronny Jansson sums it all up best: some strength training, coupled with careful, focused and longer-haul weight management, is the key to balance. “My body feels better than ever,” says Jansson. “That’s what matters.” How good you feel is the real metric of success – it’s not about how little you weigh, but how well your body works.

Ordinarily, I pride myself on being impervious to the Daily Mail’s sensationalist flourishes, but a story it ran last summer – “Zapping the brain with a tiny device on the ear could boost fitness without people having to lift a finger” – ensnared me good and proper.

The Daily Mail is rarely my first port of call for fitness advice, but the subject of this piece, a robust study that determined that non-invasive (transcutaneous) vagus nerve stimulation (tVNS) can increase exercise capacity, struck me like a lightning bolt.

Its conclusions were tantalising. Not only was exercise capacity, represented by VO2max, increased by almost 4%, but inflammation was markedly reduced, making the treatment attractive for both performance and recovery. It caught my attention because I was already using tVNS, doing my own kind of experiment. For the past seven months, I’d been relaxing for an hour every morning with an electrical current gently pulsing through my ear. If the study was right, could this be a no-brainer performance gain for pros and amateurs alike?

The tVNS trial was published in the European Heart Journal in February 2025 but wasn’t picked up by the mainstream media until the summer, at which point it gained considerable interest, including my own. The study, led by Professor Gareth Ackland of the William Harvey Research Institute, Queen Mary, University of London, recruited 28 healthy adults (14 men and 14 women) to receive tVNS for 30 minutes daily for two week-long periods.

Small study size

The vagus nerve is a major communication pathway between the brain and the body, involved in regulating heart rate, breathing, inflammation and stress. Stimulating it via non-invasive tVNS means using a transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation (TENS) machine, with electrodes clipped to the tragus of both ears. The ear contains specific zones where one branch of the vagus nerve projects; these areas, the tragus and cymba concha, provide an accessible conduit to the brain. Most scientific studies use one ear, but Ackland chose bilateral stimulation because contemporary research suggested this protocol is more effective in inducing brain plasticity and repair.

Its small sample size of 28 healthy adults, with an average age of 34, was a significant limitation of the study. That said, it was diligently executed. Professor Ackland and his team ensured that there was a blind randomised allocation of sham and active tVNS, with all participants receiving both over two seven-day periods, separated by a two-week washout interval. On average, work rate increased by six watts, respiratory rate by four breaths a minute at peak exercise, and VO2max by 1.04ml/kg/min, versus no increase in VO2max with the sham treatment. Markers of inflammation were also significantly reduced.

Pre-clinical research

Tempering my enthusiasm for using tVNS to boost my VO2max from the comfort of my sofa was the nagging acceptance that this study was not intended for cyclists, amateur or pro. “It’s a proof-of-concept trial, funded by the British Heart Foundation,” says Ackland, “examining how tVNS might bring the health benefits of exercise to those who struggle to keep active.” As most cyclists know, greater exercise capacity is strongly associated with a reduced risk of a range of serious conditions, from cardiovascular issues to neurodegenerative diseases. Even so, not everyone is willing or able to exercise regularly.

“If you’ve just had chemotherapy before a major operation,” says Ackland, “the last thing you want to do is visit the gym. Similarly, neural control is a fundamental part of exercise, which probably explains why some people find it harder than others. Seeing whether we could hijack the autonomic nervous system to gain the benefits of exercise seemed worth pursuing.” Over the past few decades, doubt has been cast on the assumption that lower heart rates (higher vagal tone) associated with fitter people are entirely a product of exercise. Contemporary data suggest the brain plays a role too. “We were able to test that idea directly,” says Ackland, “and found three plausible physiological effects – changes in exercise capacity, changes in peripheral blood signatures to inflammation, and changes in resting heart rate. Our research demonstrates that vagal activity determines an individual’s ability to exercise.”

A 3.8% increase in VO2max may sound modest, but it compares very favourably with a 2007 study that found that high-intensity aerobic interval training performed three times per week for eight weeks increased VO2max by 5.5-7.2%, while long, slow distance running and lactate threshold training yielded no effect at all. “I would not want your readers to over-interpret this proof-of-concept study data,” cautions Ackland, quick to rein in my enthusiasm. “Much more research is needed; it’s not even close to adoption in either clinical work or by athletes. We are currently exploring the link between the neural influence on exercise and the eff ect that exercise has on that neural control, but that’s still work in progress.”

I ask Ackland whether there’s any potential gain for pro cyclists, who already have finely tuned vagal tone. “Well-trained athletes have optimal autonomic function,” he says, “but there’s a strong influence of neuroplasticity in the autonomic nervous system that underpins this. So, it’s very likely that athletes could further benefit… Our work has put enhanced athletic performance on the menu of possibilities.”

DIY protocol

I started using tVNS a month before the Daily Mail piece, having heard about research suggesting that vagus nerve stimulation, administered for an hour a day, could reduce atrial fibrillation (AF) burden by 85%. I’d recently undergone an ablation for AF, and my hope was that tVNS would reduce post-operative ectopic beats.

Vagal nerve stimulation has been used to treat epilepsy for decades (using implanted devices), so there’s a good body of evidence to suggest it’s safe. However, if, like me, you choose the DIY route, there is no guarantee, no safety net. To Professor Ackland’s point, there isn’t currently enough research to demonstrate that tVNS is effective or entirely safe for use by the wider public.

That said, my experience has been positive. Using a sub-£50 TENS device from my local pharmacy, dialled in with settings scraped from the internet (low-frequency pulse rate 20-30Hz, to match natural electrical impulses) my daily, hour-long, tVNS ritual has been without incident, bar the mild, tingling sensation of an electrical current passing through my ear. My AF symptoms disappeared within two days and haven’t reappeared, which is great, but beyond that, I haven’t noticed any changes. Is my improvement in health just a coincidence? Possibly. Has my VO2max increased by so subtle a degree that it hasn’t been noticeable while cycling? Maybe.

My dedicated but utterly unscientific use of tVNS demonstrates why more robust studies are needed. There are just too many variables to account for. The settings I’m using are generic, rather than individualised, and whereas Ackland’s team used bilateral tVNS, I’m hooking up just my left ear, which is less likely to introduce cardiac side effects, but is possibly less potent too. Unlike Ackland’s strict protocols, I only have my Garmin watch to estimate my exercise capacity.

For now, then, the lab research is still chasing the clinical potential, but if this technology fulfi ls its promise, it could be transformative – off ering a vital lifeline for those physically unable to train, and a supercharged marginal gain for the pros. I, for one, will be keeping tabs on the research with interest.

Vagus nerve stimulation explained

To understand the significance of the vagus nerve, we need to explore the role of the body’s autonomic nervous system (ANS). This is the ‘autopilot’ that constantly runs vital functions, such as heartbeat, breathing and temperature regulation – the physiological processes we don’t consciously control.

The brain maintains a delicate balance between our sympathetic system – fight-or-flight mode – which mobilises energy for high-intensity efforts, and our parasympathetic system – rest-and-digest mode – which handles digestion and tissue repair.

“Both systems have a major role in cardiovascular function,” explains Dr Mark Burnley, senior lecturer in exercise physiology at Loughborough University, “as well as influence over the respiratory system and digestion. The sympathetic nervous system innervates the heart by acting on its sinoatrial (SA) node – the heart’s natural pacemaker – releasing noradrenaline, which speeds up the heart’s rate.”

The parasympathetic nervous system also acts on the SA node, slowing it down. It does this by releasing acetylcholine, which opens specific channels that allow potassium to leak out of the cells, making them less excitable. “The vagus nerve is the main conduit of the parasympathetic nervous system,” continues Dr Burnley, “a vast network of nerves that branches from the brainstem to the lowest part of the intestines. It sends eff erent [outward] information from the brain down to peripheral organs, but about 80% of its traffi c is aff erent [inward], sending signals back to the brain.”

Fundamentally, the vagus nerve continuously monitors the body and reports back to the brain when it’s time to calm down. “A fitter, stronger heart has to beat less often at a given cardiac output due to increased stroke volume,” says Burnley, “but other processes are at play. When you train consistently, a part of the brain called the medulla oblongata becomes more active at rest, sending a stronger, more continuous electrical signal via the vagus nerve to the heart. More acetylcholine is released onto the SA node, which causes the potassium channels to be held open for longer, creating a lower resting heart rate.”

In a nutshell, for the well-trained, the brain compensates for increased sympathetic outflow during efforts by boosting parasympathetic outflow during recovery. Fitter individuals have higher vagal tone, resulting in a slower resting heart rate. “Additionally,” continues Burnley, “long-term endurance training like cycling can remodel the SA node, leading to a decrease in certain ion channels, specifically HCN4. This slows the intrinsic rhythm of the heart regardless of autonomic input.”

Transcutaneous vagal nerve stimulation (tVNS) doesn’t directly affect the SA node. Instead, by stimulating the auricular branch of the vagus nerve in the ear, electrical signals travel to the brainstem. Interpreted as a call for ‘rest and digest,’ this prompts the medulla oblongata to send calming signals back down the main vagal trunk to the heart’s SA node.

Other ways to increase vagal tone

There are other ways to increase vagal tone that carry no safety caveats. “The idea of peripheral neuromodulation, of stimulating nerves to alter autonomic function, is not new,” says Professor Ackland. “It’s essentially the basis behind acupuncture and other traditional methods of stimulating areas of the body for autonomic effect. They are, however, less precise than tVNS and possibly more prone to the placebo effect.”

Breathing exercises with long exhales work on the principle of respiratory sinus arrhythmia. Essentially, the parasympathetic nervous system shuts off during inhalation and activates during exhalation. By breathing slowly – five to six breaths per minute – and lengthening your exhale, you will slow your heart rate and increase the time you spend in a parasympathetic-dominant state. Auricular acupuncture/ acupressure provides a mechanical stimulus to the vagal nerve endings in the ear. This lowers resting heart rate and systemic inflammation.

Cold water immersion (CWI) is all the rage right now. When cold water hits the skin, especially around the eyes and nose, the vagus nerve immediately signals the heart to slow. Regularly shocking the system this way increases your baseline vagal tone.

Calming, low-frequency ambient music can stimulate the parasympathetic nervous system. Be forewarned that high-pitched, dissonant sounds tend to trigger the sympathetic, and musical tastes are highly individual.

Dr Burnley and Professor Ackland agree that exercise is still the best way to tone the vagal system. Interval training is particularly effective because the rapid toggling between high and low activity improves heart rate recovery (HRR), a primary marker of vagal resilience.

Outside, it’s dark and freezing cold. Inside, Ruben Dhondt is sweating profusely, pushing 400 watts for 20 minutes on an indoor trainer. You may never have heard of him, but Dhondt is one of the best Esports cyclists in the world. The 25-year-old financial consultant is part of a growing group of indoor specialists capable of producing WorldTour-level power numbers.

What makes these riders remarkable is not just their performances in the virtual world, but their lives in the real world. Almost all of them work full-time jobs and squeeze elite-level training into half the volume ridden by pro road racers. These are the stories of people finding elite performance in the margins of everyday life.

Medicine by day, Medals by night

• Name: Francesca Tommasi
• Age: 27
• Lives: Verona, Italy
• Years Eracing: 3
• Occupation: Medical doctor
• Biggest result: 3rd – UCI Esports World Championships (2025)

With 1km to go in the 2025 UCI Esports World Championships, Francesca Tommasi was sitting fourth, seven points shy of the medals at her first ever Esports Worlds. But she wasn’t going to settle for fourth. Tommasi went all-in with a solo attack, risking everything, and she made it. The 27-year-old crossed the finish line and earned maximum points, moving her up into third and the final spot on the podium. It was the result of a lifetime for an Esports rider whose vocation is equally if not more demanding.

Occupation and sport have always gone hand-in-hand for Tommasi. She describes her time in medical school as “very challenging” in part because she was also competing as a professional runner. “I always thought it would be worth it," she says. “I believe that my sports side and my student side have never been in conflict, but rather they have strengthened each other: certain aspects of one helped me get through difficult times with the other, and vice versa.”

Tommasi was working towards her medical degree when she competed in the 2023 Giro d’Italia Donne. For a time, it was elite sport getting in the way of her profession, not the other way around. So she took a step back from road cycling, and in 2024 set her eyes on the UCI Esports World Championships. Training less than 15 hours per week, Tommasi is able to fit cycling around her professional schedule. “You can train at any time of day, and training sessions are more time-efficient and do not require the long hours typical of road cycling. For example, on very busy workdays I can fit my training into an hour or hour-and-a-half session, either before work or in the evening when I get home.”

Tommasi follows a simple training plan that allows time for work and recovery. Each week, “the sessions are varied and include high-intensity and low-intensity sessions, gym training and core stability work. Recovery weeks are built into the programme.”

As for nutrition, the Italian loves to cook. She describes a typical race morning: “I love eating toast with yogurt and marmalade and a piece of pie or plumcake that I usually make a day or two before.”

You might think that Tommasi would be kept busy by training, racing and being a medical doctor, but she also runs her own small business, baking cakes, breads, pizzas and pies. There is much more to her life than Eracing, and although she will target a repeat of her Worlds podium, the bigger picture includes a plan to open her own medical practice in the next year.

Tommasi follows a simple training plan that allows time for work and recovery. Each week, “the sessions are varied and include high-intensity and low-intensity sessions, gym training and core stability work. Recovery weeks are built into the programme.”

As for nutrition, the Italian loves to cook. She describes a typical race morning: “I love eating toast with yogurt and marmalade and a piece of pie or plumcake that I usually make a day or two before.”

You might think that Tommasi would be kept busy by training, racing and being a medical doctor, but she also runs her own small business, baking cakes, breads, pizzas and pies. There is much more to her life than Eracing, and although she will target a repeat of her Worlds podium, the bigger picture includes a plan to open her own medical practice in the next year

From Running Track to Zwift Podiums

• Name: Ruben Dhondt
• Age: 25
• Lives: Geraardsbergen, Belgium
• Years Eracing: 4
• Occupation: Financial consultant
• Biggest result: 2nd – Zwift Games Overall (2025)

Perhaps the most remarkable part of Ruben Dhondt’s rise to the top of indoor racing is that he has never raced outdoors. The former 800m runner took to Zwift in 2021 as “alternative training during the dark and cold winter days.” Dhondt had just been diagnosed with a hip impingement, putting an end to his track-and-field career.

Working remotely as a financial consultant, Dhondt lives with his parents and siblings at the base of the Muur van Geraardsbergen in Belgium. He works until 5:30pm, splits chores with his family, and trains in the evening. The 25-year-old is still able to train 15 hours per week.

Dhondt is self-coached, and uses these three pillars to achieve peak performance: “having fun, listening to my body, and consistency”. Dhondt does largely the same training week after week, rather than focusing on a training camp or goal race, which “means I need fewer rest periods so I can be more consistent over a long period.”

Though he keeps track of his training, he doesn’t complete structured workouts. Instead, he races himself fit. “I select a race I want to participate in and adjust my racing style to the training stimuli I need.”

Another contrast between Dhondt and professional road riders is his riding style. Like other runners-turned-cyclists, the Belgian prefers to ride out of the saddle at 65-75rpm. Rarely does he stay in the saddle for more than five seconds at a time, but the style works for him. When it comes to racing, Dhondt has one major quirk in this routine: he warms up next to his bike, not on it. Instead of a typical pre-race warm-up, “My warm-up is usually a 15-minute activation session that I do on a fitness mat – a habit from my track and-field career.”

Dhondt listens to upbeat techno music while racing, and always has the course profile in front of him. When it comes to specialised training methods, he has only one: heat training. “Heat training mirrors the effects of altitude training,” he explains, “and it is also less expensive than booking a trip to Calpe [in Spain].”

The rest of Dhondt’s training is basic but effective. “The difference between a good and great Esports racer can be found in marginal gains such as fuelling properly, taking supplements – caffeine, sodium bicarbonate, etc – effective recovery, getting enough sleep, focusing on protein intake and consistency.”

The Belgian had an exceptional 2025, earning top results in elite races throughout the year. He says that finishing second overall in the 2025 Zwift Games increased his “confidence and motivation that I could perform well in this sport.” That right there is a lesson in itself: confidence is critical. We have all been spat out the back of a Zwift peloton, wheezing and suffering, defeated and deflated. Don’t let it knock your confidence; it’s part of the learning process.

The racer who quit her job to discover her limits

• Name: Katerina Karamani
• Age: 28 Lives: London, UK Years Eracing: 2
• Occupation: On career break after 10 years in corporate finance
• Biggest result: 1st – MyWhoosh Sunday Race Club Endurance Climb

A decade ago, at 18 years old, Kat Karamani was “juggling a university degree, qualifying as a chartered accountant, working full-time in a demanding role at KPMG and training.” It may sound like a recipe for burnout, but she says it was “the most challenging period of my life and gave me a level of resilience that still underpins everything I do now.” A year ago, Karamani decided to take a career break from the corporate world and committed to Esports cycling. She is already competing at the highest level of verified racing.

Karamani trains more than any other Esports racer we’ve interviewed: 20 hours per week, plus daily yoga and stretching, and an hour of weekly core work. But the work doesn’t always come easy, as she has to balance training with work and family commitments. “I’m learning to be compassionate with myself and listen to my body,” she says. “I’ve learned to back off without spiralling into fear about losing fitness.”

"For me, the mental focus is what separates a good racer from a great one,” says Karamani. “The best riders are very good at staying present and not getting too caught up in the outcome. Instead, they focus on executing the next effort well.”

To find her best legs, Karamani’s routine includes course recon the day before a race, the same wake-up time and pre-race food. “I do a 15-minute warm-up, finishing about 10 minutes before the start,” she says. “I like to stretch and take a few minutes to get mentally in the zone, running through the course in my head. I don’t overthink weigh-ins, and I fuel and hydrate just as I would for a hard training session. Having these routines gives me a sense of calm and control.”

Karamani’s partner has four kids, “so family life is part of the picture.” When the going gets tough, she falls back on her routines, narrowing her focus, and minimising distractions. And Karamani is aiming big: the UCI Esports World Championships, to be exact. Having already worn the GB national team kit in the Worlds semi-final, the next step is earning a spot at the Worlds in Abu Dhabi.

Combining caring and competing

• Name: Elyse Gallegos
• Age: 39
• Lives: Huntsville, Alabama
• Years Eracing: 5
• Occupation: Registered nurse in neonatal ICU
• Biggest result: 11th – UCI Esports World Championships (2025)

Before flying halfway across the world to Abu Dhabi, UAE, Elyse Gallegos said goodbye to her two children, aged four and seven.

The registered nurse from Alabama, USA, trains 10-15 hours per week and competes alongside the best Esports cyclists in the world. While

her competitors have time to go to the gym, then have a massage or ice bath, Gallegos jumps straight from training to cooking for her children and helping them get ready for school.

Amid the chaos, Gallegos finds time to wake up at 1am to race the MyWhoosh Sunday Race Club, where she is a regular top-10 finisher. Her

results were so good that she was invited to compete in the UCI Esports World Championships, where she finished 11th in Abu Dhabi. Routines and planning are everything for Gallegos. This is how she prepares for a race: “I have notes written out for the course, bottles made, pedals charged, kit laid out, scales and video ready to go, so it’s just automatic when the 1am alarm goes off to race at 2am every Sunday.”

Gallegos does a 10-minute yoga session before weighing in for verified races, and this is all taking place at one in the morning. Gallegos does more gym work than most cyclists, fitting in three sessions per week on top of two high-intensity interval days and base miles. When it comes to fuelling, she has her pre-race routine dialled, consuming bicarb, electrolytes, carb mix, honey, and a caffeine tab between the weigh-in and race start.

At 39, Gallegos is still aiming to improve in the upcoming seasons. Her big goals this year are to finish on the podium in the MyWhoosh Sunday Race Club, and improve upon her 11th-place finish at the UCI Esports World Championships.

Indoor Incentives: Six-figure prize funds

Esports cycling has become a lucrative career for many athletes. Top earners can expect to win more than £100,000 per year in prize money, the majority of which comes from the MyWhoosh Sunday Race Club which offers thousands of pounds in prize money every weekend.

Some countries put on prestigious national championship events complete with a live audience, in-person racing, big prize money, and a coveted jersey. Denmark and Sweden are leading the way for in-person Eracing, and rumours are circulating about the formation of an Eracing international race calendar and Olympics aspirations.

How does blood health influence performance, energy levels and recovery?

Overall blood health, especially iron status, plays a major role in endurance performance, energy levels and recovery, even in athletes who are training well and eating adequately. Endurance performance is not determined by training alone and depends on many factors, including blood health, which is frequently overlooked. Healthy blood ensures oxygen and nutrients are delivered efficiently to working muscles.

How common are blood issues in cyclists?

Research in sports medicine and international athlete guidelines shows that low iron is common [30-50%] in endurance athletes, even without full anaemia. It can reduce aerobic capacity, make exercise feel harder at lower intensities, and limit training adaptation, with persistent tiredness despite “doing everything right”. Athletes can experience fatigue, reduced performance and slower recovery despite being disciplined with their training programme.

Which common blood imbalances can limit performance in cyclists?

Iron depletion is the most common blood imbalance in endurance athletes, but there are others. Research from Loughborough University and the University of Western Australia highlights that low haemoglobin, vitamin B12 or folate deficiency can affect red blood cell production and recovery.

Electrolyte imbalance and low vitamin D are also associated with muscle fatigue, weakness and increased risk of injury. Athletes may notice declining power or pace, elevated heart rate at familiar intensities, slower recovery between sessions or increased susceptibility to illness. These symptoms are often misattributed to overtraining rather than an underlying blood health issue

How can iron depletion affect cycling performance – including VO2max, power output, recovery and perceived effort?

When iron stores fall, oxygen delivery and use are compromised. VO2max can decline, leading to a drop in performance and slower recovery. Athletes often report that familiar training intensities feel disproportionately hard, with higher perceived effort and rising heart rate. Research published in Medicine & Science in Sports & Exercise, supported by laboratory studies from the University of Lausanne [in Switzerland] demonstrates that iron deficiency without anaemia significantly impairs endurance performance and training efficiency.

Why are female cyclists at greater risk of iron depletion?

Female athletes are particularly susceptible to iron depletion due to menstrual blood loss, higher iron demands from endurance training and, in some cases, lower dietary intake. Hormonal factors can also influence iron absorption and regulation. Large cohort studies cited in the British Journal of Sports Medicine, including work from Stanford University School of Medicine, consistently show higher rates of iron deficiency in female endurance athletes.

What signs should cyclists recognise as possible indicators of iron depletion?

Iron depletion can be difficult to spot early, as haemoglobin may remain normal while iron stores gradually decline. Cyclists may first notice subtle but persistent changes in performance and wellbeing. Some common signs include unexplained fatigue, reduced endurance, slower recovery, and rising perceived effort. Athletes may also experience declining power output, an unusually elevated heart rate at familiar intensities, breathlessness on minimal exertion, or increased susceptibility to illness.

These symptoms are often mistaken for overtraining or poor conditioning, but can reflect an underlying blood health issue. For this reason, early detection is important, as iron depletion can negatively affect training adaptation and performance long before anaemia develops.

Suspect Low Iron? Next steps for cyclists

• Get tested Arrange a blood test if you notice unusual fatigue, poorer recovery, falling performance or training feeling harder than normal.
• Start with nutrition Increase iron-rich foods, add vitamin C to aid absorption, and avoid tea/coffee close to meals.
• Use supplements carefully Oral iron may help but can cause stomach upset and be less effective during heavy training blocks.
• Seek medical follow-up Persistent symptoms or low results need further investigation.
• Consider clinical treatment In confirmed deficiency where tablets fail or aren’t tolerated, medically supervised iron infusion may be appropriate to restore levels and support consistent training and recovery.

Meet the Expert

Dr Susan Jain is the lead doctor at Revive and Reset (reviveandreset.com), a Harley Street clinic specialising in iron deficiency and anaemia. She is also a consultant in anaesthetics and intensive care medicine, with more than 25 years of clinical experience.

Last year, a huge scientific study conducted in China and involving 480,000 people concluded that regularly engaging in aerobic exercise such as cycling can reduce your chances of developing dementia. Now a new piece of far more specific research appears to have found provable links between periods of pedalling and an improvement in people’s ability to efficiently process and retain information.

The research, recently published in Brain Communications, was conducted on a much smaller test group, but the people involved all had a specific disorder, drug-resistant epilepsy, that the scientists were examining when they made their discovery.

The study builds upon the already well-proven assertion that 'physical exercise improves memory and learning in rodents and humans'. During the research period, however, the scientists found that participating in a pedalling exercise for 20 minutes caused 'ripples' to occur in a part of the human brain called the hippocampus, which where memories are formed and learning happens. These ripples directly led to an improvement in the subject's performance in tests.

Using intracranial electroencephalography (iEEG) technology, scientists tracked the brain activity of 14 participants, aged between 17 and 50, before and after they spent 20 minutes pedalling on stationary machines, similar to an indoor trainer.

“Overall, we show that a single session of light to moderate intensity physical exercise triggers changes in human ripple hippocampal-cortical dynamics," the scientists reported.

Scientists had previously identified 'ripples' in the brains of rats caused by physical exertion, which they believed led to an improvement in post-exercise memory, but we don't know how they got the rodents to keep riding. More importantly, this is the first time the effect has been documented in humans.

"Exercise increased ripple rate in the hippocampus," the scientists wrote. "Experimental evidence supports the idea that hippocampal sharp wave-ripples (SWR) play a critical role in learning and memory," they concluded.

And not only are these ripples are created during physical exercise, such as cycling, but they increased in intensity as the pedalling patient’s heartrate rose.

The results support the findings of the aforementioned larger study, during which scientists at the Huazhong University of Science and Technology in China, concluded that cycling can cause the hippocampus to grow.

This article was taken from the January 22 edition of Cycling Weekly. Chris Mashall-Bell sat down with Italian road and cyclo-cross rider, Mattia Agostinacchio (EF Education-EasyPost) ahead of the Namur World Cup. To subscribe to the magazine, click here.

What's your sporting background?

I did lots of sports as a kid: gymnastics until I was 11, ski racing until I was 13, and some tennis, football and swimming too. My first cycle sport was mountain biking, and then I took up cyclo-cross and road cycling.

Who coached you as a junior?

My whole family loves cycling, and my dad trained me until I was a junior, when my older brother Filippo took over. He's also a cyclist [with Continental team Biesse-Carrera Premac] and is studying sports science at university. With his help, at age 16, I started using a power meter and a heart rate monitor.

What kind of road rider are you?

I still don't know for sure, but I think I am best suited to the Classics. Mathieu van der Poel is my idol, and some people have compared me to him - but it will be impossible to be exactly like him!

How do you feel being the World Tour's baby?

I really don't know what to expect from myself this season, but I will need to get some key races in my legs to find the rhythm and flow. My first ambition as a pro cyclist is to win one race.

How do you rate your cyclo-cross season so far?

I'd give it a 7/10. The World Cup hasn't gone so well for me for various reasons, and I've had quite a lot of downs. But to win the U23 European Championships was amazing and I hope to get a podium at the U23 race at the World Championships [on 11 January; he finished fourth].

Do you do specific CX training?

During the cross season I use my cyclo-cross bike on the road. I normally go into the forest once or twice a week to practise my technique, and I run for 30 minutes once a week.

MATTIA'S TRAINING DIARY

The week: 8-14 December
Training for: Elite UCI World Cup, Namur, Belgium
Training in: Italy and Belgium

Monday: Recovery ride
This whole week was focused on preparing for Namur, which was to be my first World Cup race against the elites. I had an easier week's training after my last U23 race in Flamanville [in France, 30 November - he finished eighth] because I had a lot of races coming up in December. I started this week with a Zone 1 ride, sitting between 170 and 190 watts.
Total riding: 1hr 30min

Tuesday: Explosive efforts
Before this ride, I did a small core session with a few exercises. I've started doing these sessions twice a week. Afterwards I went out for three hours and did my favourite session: six reps of 30 seconds at Zone 5 and 50rpm, and then 15 seconds all-out. I feel like I'm working on and improving my explosiveness with this session.
Total riding: 3hr

Wednesday: AM: Endurance ride; PM: VO2max intervals
In the morning I did two hours steady at Zone 2, between 220 and 230 watts, and after lunch I did VO2max efforts: two times two minutes at just a bit harder than race pace, so between 450 and 500 watts, with one minute's recovery in between. These sessions help me in cyclo-cross races.
Total riding: 3hr 30min

Thursday: Endurance ride (abandoned)
The plan was to do three-and-a-half hours, but I didn't feel great when I woke up and as soon as I got out on the bike I realised I wouldn't be able to complete the session. In the end I only did half an hour. It's better to stop and recover rather than push on and make yourself worse.
Total riding: 30min

Friday: Recovery ride
I was feeling a bit better than the day before, so even though Friday was meant to be a rest day, I went out for a 90-minute Zone 1 recovery ride. In the evening, I travelled to Belgium for the race.
Total riding: 1hr 30min

Saturday: Race recon
Namur was a big race for me, so I prepared thoroughly, even though I'd ridden it before, as a junior. I completed a lot of laps, some a bit faster than others, always looking for the best lines.
Total riding: 1hr 30min

Sunday: Race: UCI CX World Cup, Namur
My race preparation includes one or two laps of the course, and a 20-minute warm-up, which begins with four minutes in Zone 2, two minutes in Zone 2b (almost Zone 3) two minutes at Zone 3, another two minutes at Zone 4, and then three minutes of recovery. After that, I do two lots of 30-second VO2max efforts, with 30 seconds easy. I started on the fifth row, so quite far back, but I found my rhythm and in the last few laps even went faster than some of the guys in the top-10. I was really happy with 13th.
Total riding: 1hr 40min

Week's Wisdom

Once you've processed the fact he was born in autumn 2007, make a note of this young man's restraint. Hard efforts are dosed with caution, balanced with recovery, and his body's early warning signs are heeded - cutting a ride short shows wisdom beyond his years. Trusting in consistency over heroics, he is rightly rewarded at his target race - and is a talent to watch over coming years.

At the 2025 Tour de France there was an open secret being whispered through the peloton: most stage winners were wearing a thumbnail-sized sensor clipped to their heart-rate strap.

The device, made by Swiss company Core, measures a rider's core body temperature in real time - a hidden layer of physiology that can tell whether a rider is thriving or overheating. According to Core, 17 of the 21 stages were won by riders using their sensor-prompting speculation that it offered a winning edge.

In the arms race for marginal gains, it's irresistible tech. Real-time data promises to let riders see inside themselves: how their lungs, hearts, muscles and even hydration levels are coping with the load. But are these new monitors genuine game-changers or merely expensive add-ons? Do they provide truly useful data or just distracting noise?

Temperature sensors

In the case of real-time core-temperature monitoring, it's something that has moved from Olympic labs to everyday cycling. The concept is simple: detect rising internal heat early enough to adjust pacing, cooling or hydration before performance drops. The aforementioned Core device combines skin temperature, heart rate and heat flux (the flow of heat from body to skin) to calculate core temperature and a heat-strain index.

Validation studies comparing Core with ingestible thermistors show a mean error of just 0.23°C- impressive for a non-invasive, 'stick-on' device. For an expert view on whether wearable thermometers can really make a winning difference, we turn to Professor Yannis Pitsiladis of Hong Kong Baptist University.

"Core temperature alone tells only part of the story," says Pitsiladis, explaining that the data has to be interpreted within a broader context. "Heat strain and performance decline stem from the interplay of temperature, cardiovascular load, and environmental stressors. Without that integration, the data can be misleading."

Pitsiladis is at pains to explain that real-time temperature monitoring is not, on its own, a game-changer. "Thermoregulation involves metabolic heat, cardiovascular redistribution and environmental exchange. Seeing that process unfold second-by-second can reveal how workload and environment interact."

Professor Mike Tipton, an expert in human thermoregulation at the University of Portsmouth, urges riders to start with a question: why measure temperature at all? "If you can't define what a meaningful change means for you, the number is just decoration," he cautions. "Most devices estimate core temperature from skin or heat-flux signals, which are distorted by wind, rain and sunlight. Even if the reading were perfect, you still need to know your personal critical limit before it becomes actionable."

Tipton warns that over-reliance on readouts can erode self-awareness. "Cyclists have evolved excellent internal sensors - perception of effort, breathing, sweat. Chasing digital precision can dull that intuition."

A 2023 Journal of Sports Sciences study backs his caution, reporting mean outdoor errors of 0.5-1.0°C in popular wearables - large enough to make "heat limit" thresholds unreliable. "Directional trends are useful," Tipton concedes, "but absolute numbers outside controlled conditions remain questionable."

Pitsiladis agrees that validation is the dividing line between science and sales. Ingestible thermistors-pill-sized sensors swallowed to measure core body temperature from within the gastrointestinal tract - remain the gold standard; most commercial devices still estimate rather than measure.

"The technology must evolve to meet biological complexity, not the other way round," says Pitsiladis. Until then, cyclists should treat temperature data as a compass, not a map: a helpful guide to how the body copes with heat, but far from an infallible performance predictor. In short, today's sensors can show when you're getting hot - but not always how or why it truly matters.

Oxygen and ventilation monitoring

Where Core focuses on thermal load, other systems aim or claim to capture real-time oxygen use and ventilation - essentially the holy grail of endurance physiology: how efficiently you use oxygen to generate power. Garmin smartwatches, for instance, offer wrist-based Pulse Ox tracking alongside cycling metrics including heart rate and respiration. Similarly, the Oura Ring tracks overnight oxygen, temperature and recovery for daily readiness, while the Wellue O2Ring provides continuous oxygen and heart-rate monitoring with alerts.

Professor John Dickinson from the University of Kent has spent two decades studying respiratory performance in elite athletes. He says the data can be insightful, but the current crop of wearables still fall short of lab precision.

"In the lab, we can directly measure oxygen consumption and ventilation - that's gold-standard," he explains. "But most wearables estimate it through proxies like heart rate, wrist blood flow, or chest strap strain. They're decent for trends, but not precise enough for elite decision-making."

Recent research backs that up: smartwatch VO2 max estimates can be off by 15%, often overestimating unfit users and underestimating trained ones. Breathing frequency straps were found to perform slightly better within 10% of actual rate - but lack the ability to measure tidal volume (the amount of air per breath).

"Without tidal volume, it's difficult to interpret," says Dickinson. "Heart rate still tracks oxygen use well, so right now, a good heart-rate monitor and a proper lab test may tell you as much as these new devices."

Staying on top of your hydration

Hydration sensors are the next frontier - patches and wearables that claim to monitor body water or electrolyte loss in real time. Some of the best smartwatches allow users to manually log fluid intake and estimate hydration status based on activity and conditions. The idea is seductive: never guess your salt balance again.

But Professor Glen Davison, also of The University of Kent, urges caution. "The concept is sound - in theory, these devices could track fluid balance in real time," says Davison, "but accuracy depends entirely on the technology. Some measure sweat composition, others infer total body water through electrical or optical signals - and those don't always reflect whole-body hydration."

Even if these devices could perfectly measure dehydration, it might not, in Davison's view, be meaningful data for most cyclists. "You can tolerate around 4% body-mass loss from sweat - nearly three litres for a 70kg rider - before seeing major performance effects," he adds. "That's a lot of sweat. For most, regular drinking strategies already cover that."

Where these sensors might prove useful is in sweat composition - knowing how much sodium you lose can guide electrolyte intake during multi-day races or heat camps. Still, this concentration may vary from one ride to the next, and Davison stresses that data from a single patch site can't represent the whole body. "If the only evidence comes from internal company data, we should be sceptical," he adds.

Real-time blood glucose

Continuous glucose monitors (CGMs) went through a brief boom-and-bust in elite cycling, which may serve as a warning to those of us lured by the promise of next-level tech-led physiology. Marketed as revolutionary tools for fuelling and recovery, they were banned by the UCI in 2023 after studies found minimal benefit and growing concerns over data misuse.

The CGM is a small, coin-sized wearable sensor that sits just under the skin, usually on the upper arm or abdomen, using a tiny filament inserted with a spring-loaded applicator. Once in place, it tracks glucose levels in the interstitial fluid continuously, typically for 10-14 days before needing replacement. Originally developed for diabetics, CGMs were increasingly adopted by elite riders as a performance and fuelling tool.

The sensor samples glucose levels every few minutes, building a 24/7 picture of glucose trends rather than single snapshots. Data is transmitted wirelessly to a smartphone app - and in some cases to a bike computer or training platform - where riders can see real-time graphs, alerts and trend arrows.

"It's important to be clear: even continuous glucose data isn't a measure of performance. It's a health metric," says Dr Henry Chung, lecturer in physiology and nutrition, University of Essex, "Cycling performance is driven by a mix of energy availability and physiological limits. Muscle glycogen is a major fuel source, alongside phosphocreatine, but performance is also shaped by factors including neuromuscular fatigue, time to exhaustion, cardiovascular strain, oxygen use and technical skill - none of which a CGM measures."

Chung points out another common misunderstanding. "People assume blood glucose reflects what's happening with muscle glycogen, but that isn't really the case. There's a time lag between glycogen being broken down, converted, and appearing as glucose in the blood. On top of that, muscle glycogen is regulated locally within the muscle."

So blood glucose and muscle fuel can behave quite independently. "In real-world conditions, it's extremely difficult to work out what's actually happening in the body from this single number alone. In people without diabetes, glucose readings mostly reflect what you've eaten, what your liver is releasing, and how your body is using sugar overall - not how much fuel your muscles actually have available or how well you can perform on the bike."

In other words, the relationship between real-time blood glucose and cycling performance is indirect, complicated and often not very useful in practice. For many riders, a CGM risks becoming a source of distraction and anxiety, providing a fluctuating number that is minimally useful in terms of guiding beneficial changes.

"Real-time monitoring is a fascinating science," concludes Professor Mike Tipton, "but for performance management in the field, it risks becoming data for data's sake." That's a recurring concern among physiologists: data without interpretation. Real-time readouts, delivered devoid of context, can easily overwhelm riders or coaches, and don't translate cleanly into actionable numbers.

Then there's the cost and complexity. A full suite of validated monitors - core temperature, respiratory strap, hydration patch, CGM-may exceed £1,000, with data streams requiring custom analysis software. For amateurs, that's a big outlay for insight that may still be at best 'directional' rather than precise.

That said, real-time gadgets are here to stay and, as Professor Pitsiladis points out, the technology is still in its early "brick-phone stage". "It works," he says, "but it's not yet miniaturised or fully integrated. The next step is ecosystem-level sensing - multiple validated inputs communicating in real time."

That vision - a fully synchronised network of sensors mapping metrics such as heat, oxygen, hydration and glucose simultaneously-sounds futuristic, but it's already being trialled, with AI advancements fuelling the surge. Real-time monitoring may be of limited value right now, but it's sure to get a whole lot better over coming years.

Would you like me to summarize the key expert opinions from Professor Pitsiladis and Professor Tipton regarding these sensors?

As my seven-year-old son turned his first ever laps at our nearby velodrome, it was immediately clear that he was a natural. It was even clear to some of the other coaches, timers and racers at the track, one of whom, a USA Cycling official, leaned in and said to me, "He really gets it, huh?"

My lizard brain took over: immediately, I saw my son as a young man winning in velodromes around the world. I saw myself cheering him from the stands as he stood atop the podium as an Olympic medal was placed around his neck. Gold, of course. I urgently needed to remind myself that whatever became of his cycling future would be his story, subject to his motivations, not mine.

On the long drive home, as my little boy dozed in his seat, I wondered, as I often do, whether or not I'm doing a good job as a father. Specifically, I thought about my influence on my son's cycling. My wife and I have had countless hours of conversations about his natural competitiveness and how best to harness it, not tamp it down in the name of good sportsmanship.

We've also discussed ad nauseam the other side of that coin: how do we foster an environment that allows our kids to stoke their competitive fire while also teaching them to be good, humane people. Let's face it, the likelihood that they'll actually become pro cyclists is very small. Competitiveness can be helpful in many facets of life, and so I wondered: where is the line?

How do I encourage my son to be unafraid to achieve greatness while also remembering that he is, after all, just seven? How do I maintain this love of bicycles without beginning to see them as a tool of work and career ambition?

Unfortunately, as in most aspects of parenting, there is no clear answer. But the first question I had to answer was, when? As in, when do I start pushing him and allowing him to push himself? When do I start concerning myself with his performance?

According to elite youth and junior coach Jez Cox, I don't need to start asking the big questions for another half-decade at least. "Around 12 years old," Cox tells me via video call. "Get someone to assess them at that point and, if they're in the top four of five nationally, you might want to get a coach involved. Until then, just remind your child that you're there for him, that this is his journey."

Pressure on a youngster, says Cox, does far more harm than good. He explained how, during his near-decade coaching as many as 10 juniors each year at the Oakland Wolves Sports Academy, in Hertfordshire, he has heard several riders admit that they were there because of their parents' cycling dream, not their own.

Some of his charges have explained to Cox, through tears, how they feel burdened by the pressure put on them. "They say, 'I don't even know why I'm here. I just feel so bad for my parents. They've invested so much in me and I don't want to let them down.'" Cox says.

Ever since my son started racing BMX when he was three, my wife and I have done our best to be vocal and open with our son about how none of this is required, and how he can stop the minute he's no longer having fun. Then again, it's not like he doesn't notice how much time, effort and money we have put into supporting his love for racing bikes.

Still, listening to Cox talk about the athletes under his purview, it's clear to me that, not only do I need to keep the love of riding bikes at the fore for the next several years, I also need to ensure that my little boy knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he's under no requirement to do any of this. One way to do that is by not putting all of our eggs in one basket.

"As a kid, I played all sports," Ben Wiggins tells me. "Rugby, basketball, boxing. But football was my first love." Despite having a Tour de France champion as a dad, Ben was encouraged by his parents to try as many different activities as he could. Though he started racing at six, Wiggins didn't take the bike seriously until he was 16.

It was only then, having realised that his footballing talent wasn't sufficient to turn pro, that Wiggins had to choose where to focus: rugby or the bike. It was during the Covid-19 pandemic, as he began training more concertedly on the bike to stay in shape for when rugby matches resumed, that Wiggins's ability attracted the attention of British Cycling.

Wiggins Snr was still a bit gun-shy about the idea. "Given everything that happened to my dad when he was starting out he was quite reluctant for me, to begin with," Ben says. "It unlocked a lot of memories for him." Still, Bradley offered unwavering support as a sounding board, while cautioning Ben about the hazards inside pro bike racing.

As such, he allowed his son to make his own decisions. According to Ben, Bradley did not seek to control his destiny in the sport, thanks to which their relationship continues to thrive today. Anxious of being too great an influence, Bradley has sought to keep a clear line of delineation between his and his son's careers, even deciding against coaching him at one point a few winters back. "He never wanted to be the person to tell me to get on my bike," Ben says. "I think he just wanted to play the role of dad."

Dad: it's a role laden with expectations, anticipation and, perhaps above all, emotions that are impossible to escape. For the average seven-year-old, a BMX race takes about 40 seconds. For the average BMX dad, those 40 seconds feel like an eternity. With every turn of my little boy's pedals, my body twists and contorts as mentally I try to pilot the bike for him. I can only imagine how much more acute these feelings will be if and when my son starts racing track bikes, where I have 10 times more experience than I do in BMX.

Former pro George Hincapie assures me that those feelings never go away. Despite having won Ghent-Wevelgem, a trio of American championships and a stage at the Tour de France, and finished on the podium at Paris-Roubaix, Hincapie [who later admitted to doping during his career] is still just a nervous dad when he watches his son battling for position in a peloton.

Seventeen-year-old Enzo Hincapie has spent the last few years with the EF-Onto development team and currently races for the German club team Grenke-Auto Eder. "I get nervous when he races," says George. "Similar nerves to when I was first racing."

Much like his friend and longtime peloton counterpart Bradley Wiggins, George Hincapie did not foist a bike on any of his three children. Naturally, they cycled frequently as a family for fun. "I just wanted my kids to get into some kind of sport, no matter what it was," he says, mentioning how his oldest child, daughter Julia Paris, took to tennis rather than the bike.

"I was never disappointed. As long as they were doing something [sporty]." And while Enzo matriculating onto the bike in a more serious way made his father happy, George has always regarded himself as a father first and foremost.

"I loved the fact that he started loving to ride more, started taking his nutrition a lot more seriously, wanting to race," George says. "For me, it was confirmation that I made the right decision to keep pushing him on the bike." While recognising the need not to meddle too much, George naturally imparts whatever useful knowledge he can to Enzo as the youngster tries to navigate the trials and tribulations of professional cycling. "[Enzo's] had coaches for a few years now, so I'm more of an adviser or a sounding board for things like lifestyle, nutrition, even tactics," George says.

The reality is that I do not have the cycling expertise to coach my son; I am no Bradley Wiggins or George Hincapie. But one thing the three of us share - along with millions of dads around the world - is that we all want what's best for our kids. And while our natural inclination might be to keep them as close to us as we possibly can, according to Jez Cox, letting them go is often the better choice.

"I didn't love those kids," Cox says of the youth cyclists he worked with at Oakland Wolves. "I invested fully in them and I wanted to work hard with them. I wanted what's best for them, but I didn't love them the way their parents do or the way I love my own kids."

A degree of emotional detachment can be invaluable, in Cox's view. "That separation is important. You have to get to that point where you've handed them over to someone who cares for them but who has that separation." Cox highlights as an example two of the biggest successes to come from his tutelage at the Oakland Wolves: NSN's Joe Blackmore and British national track champion Rhianna Parris-Smith, both of whose parents shared a common trait - they stepped back.

"Both of those sets of parents were people I hardly ever spoke to," Cox says. "They were incredibly polite; they dropped off their kids and they said, 'It's their dream, we're going to leave it to you'."

At seven, my son isn't worried about his long-term future or how far he'll progress as a cyclist. In light of the conversations above, I too have stopped worrying about his times on the track.

The message from coaches and former pros was remarkably consistent: what matters right now is fostering my son's love of bikes - and taking pleasure in developing our shared interest. Even so, as a dad in early middle-age, it's impossible for me not to think about the Big Tomorrow. Right now, bikes are a vehicle of bonding for my son and me, a shared love, passion and joy.

Maybe someday he'll decide to pursue cycling in a more serious way - or maybe he'll turn around tomorrow and say he never wants to race his bike again. In either case, all I can do is tell him that I love him, that I have his back, so that he knows I'll support whatever path he chooses to follow. And if ever he needs me, he'll know where to find me - alongside him on the bike.

This feature was originally published in the 22 January 2026 print edition of Cycling Weekly magazine – available to buy on the newsstand every Thursday (UK only) while digital versions are available on Apple News and Readly. Subscriptions through Magazine's Direct.

Desk job syndrome describes the mix of aches, pains, stiffness and fatigue that come from long hours sitting with less-than-ideal posture. With around 80% of office workers sitting for between four and nine hours a day - spending 70-85% of their working time seated - it's the equivalent of about 70 fully sedentary whole days each year for anyone with a desk job.

This prolonged sitting can create a cluster of physical and mental symptoms, explains Professor Lee Smith, from back and neck pain to headaches, eye strain and numbness. Poor ergonomics only amplify muscle tightness, weakness and circulation issues. This in turn can have serious knock-on effects for your riding and in turn your fitness.

What is desk job syndrome?

Desk job syndrome is a collection of physical and mental symptoms caused by prolonged sitting and poor posture from desk work, says Smith. Symptoms include back, neck and shoulder pain, headaches, eye strain, and numbness in hands or feet.

This means issues you experience when riding might not be down to bike fit, but prolonged sitting, with problems compounded by poor posture and improper ergonomic set-up, leading to physical pain, stiffness and weakness, as well as repetitive strain injuries, muscle cramps and swelling in the joints and limbs owing to poor circulation.

It's not just those in desk jobs who suffer with it, adds Smith. A sedentary lifestyle and prolonged sitting can increase one's risk of developing multiple long-term chronic conditions such as obesity and diabetes.

Why does it matter to cyclists

Cyclists with desk-based jobs often present with range-of-movement issues, says physiotherapist Jake Mulley. Prolonged slumped sitting and sustained lumbar flexion can reduce load tolerance on the bike, contributing to lower-back and general musculoskeletal pain.

Riders should also watch for neck pain and cervical muscle strain from forward-head posture and poor screen set-up, plus upper-trapezius or deltoid discomfort caused by elevated shoulders or inadequate arm support.

Sitting shortens the iliopsoas [the major hip flexor], and combined with cycling's hip-flexed position, can tighten hip flexors, says Mulley. This can decrease pedalling efficiency and power output. Poor typing posture may trigger carpal-tunnel symptoms while prolonged perineal pressure at work and on the bike can cumulatively affect nerves and soft tissue, causing pelvic imbalance or dysfunction.

What does the research say

Research has found that, among full-time office employees, the average time spent at work is eight to nine hours a day, says Smith, with approximately 70% of this time spent sitting at a desk. This is bad news for our physical and mental health. Sitting for more than four hours daily is considered detrimental to health, with increased risks for conditions including diabetes and heart disease, especially after eight to 11 hours.

While there's no single 'bad' amount, excessive sitting is linked to a higher risk of chronic disease and even early mortality, says Smith. Literature suggests that breaking up sitting time every 20 minutes with two minutes of light-intensity activity such as walking can mitigate some of the health risks of prolonged sitting.

How can I reap the benefits?

Cyclists can reduce their risks by improving their workstation set-up and trying to incorporate more movement throughout the course of the day. Keep your screen at eye level, elbows at 90° and feet supported to maintain a neutral pelvis, says Mulley, who adds that adding forearm support and maintaining relaxed shoulders will help reduce upper-back and neck strain.

He recommends switching between sitting and standing and taking micro-breaks every 30-45 minutes. On the bike, the same principles matter. A clinical bike-fit is recommended for riders who sit all day, adds Mulley.

Adjusting saddle height, setback and handlebar reach can ease back, hip and neck tension, while cleat alignment, bar width and saddle choice can enhance comfort and reduce injury risk. Taken together, these small adjustments can help cyclists protect their performance and long-term wellbeing.

Prolonged sitting quietly reshapes your body in ways that can spill over into your cycling. Tight hip flexors, sleepy glutes and that slumped spinal position all crank up lower-back load on the bike, says Mulley. Circulation takes a hit too, with sluggish blood flow. And as Smith puts it, your body adapts to whatever you do most - so desk-bound riders often bring that stiffness onto the bike. Simple fixes like movement reminders, stretching breaks and a proper ergonomic set-up can make a big difference.

Ultra-processed foods (UPFs) have become the pantomime villain of modern nutrition. Headlines warn they’re driving obesity, heart disease and even early death; social-media feeds buzz with lists of foods to avoid. The debate reignited in October with Joe Wicks’s Channel 4 documentary, which saw him create the so-called Killer Protein Bar – a stunt designed to expose just how many dubious additives can be used in a product that is not only legal but marketed as “healthy”. Wicks’s bar contained 96 approved ingredients, from sweeteners such as aspartame, to sugar alcohols like xylitol and maltitol, emulsifiers including carboxymethylcellulose, and even carmine, a red dye made from cochineal insects. Each was used within permitted limits, yet together illustrated how highly engineered modern foods can be. The programme’s central message was that the UK now eats more UPFs than any nation except the US – many of them products craftily marketed as nutritious.

For cyclists, this debate hits close to home. Energy gels, carb drinks and recovery shakes – staples of endurance fuelling – fall under the UPF label. So, should we be cutting back, or is the current panic missing the point?

What counts as ultra-processed?

The term ultra-processed food comes from the NOVA classification system, which groups foods by the degree and purpose of industrial processing. “Sports products like gels, bars and recovery shakes often fall into the ultra-processed category under NOVA because they’re made largely from industrially extracted ingredients,” explains Dr Emily Jevons, nutritionist for Team Picnic-PostNL. “Those ingredients are designed to create specific textures, flavours, portability or shelf stability – though some brands use more natural components than others.” Jevons adds that NOVA measures technique, not intent: “A gel exists to deliver rapidly digestible carbohydrates in a compact, portable form during cycling, not to replace a balanced meal. In that sense, the ‘ultra-processed’ label doesn’t really capture its function in an athletic context. It’s a tool, not a dietary pattern.”

Not all processing is bad news. Cooking, fermenting and freezing all count as processing too – they make food safer or easier to digest. “Ultra-processed” simply goes further, adding ingredients to adjust taste, texture or shelf life. That distinction matters because the UPF category is very broad. Everything from cheap crisps to scientifically formulated recovery powders fits under the UPF umbrella, so sweeping claims that “all UPFs are harmful” don’t hold up to scrutiny.

Most cyclists probably eat what would generally be considered a healthy diet: porridge and coffee before a ride, a post-training omelette, plenty of fruit and veg, the odd pastry at the cafe stop. But if you count the bottles of carb drink, mid-ride bars and post-session shakes, it’s clear that ultra-processed products feature heavily. That’s not because cyclists are careless eaters – quite the opposite. It’s because performance nutrition relies on convenience and digestibility. During long or intense rides, fuel needs to be quickly absorbed, easy on your stomach, and pocket-friendly to carry. In that context, a gel or recovery powder isn’t junk food; it’s part of the equipment list.

But when you’re regularly taking in 300–400g of carbohydrate on the bike – 60–80g an hour, several times a week – there’s not much leeway left for the rest of the day. Keep adding processed carbs off the bike and you risk overshooting your energy needs, while crowding out the whole foods that supply fibre, vitamins and healthy fats. Still, the question remains: does this higher intake of processed products carry the same risks we hear about in the headlines?

Context is king

Most of the alarming headlines about ultra-processed foods come from large population studies linking high consumption to obesity, cardiovascular disease and early mortality. But it’s crucial to look at who those studies were conducted on. “Most of that data comes from general or sedentary populations,” says Jevons. “Those findings are largely driven by over-consumption and the displacement of nutrient-rich foods, not by the mere presence of processing itself.” Cyclists exist in a very different physiological context. “During and after long training sessions, high-glycaemic, rapidly absorbed carbohydrates are exactly what the body needs to maintain glycogen stores, prevent excessive stress responses and support recovery.”

In other words, the same traits that make UPFs problematic for desk workers (high energy density, quick absorption, low fibre) can actually be useful for cyclists. A 2023 paper by Australian researchers found no studies yet examining UPF intake specifically in athletes, and no evidence that sports-nutrition-type UPFs have the same negative effects in sedentary groups. That said, Jevons cautions that “if UPFs dominate the rest of a cyclist’s diet outside training and recovery windows, the same long-term risks could eventually apply. Pattern of intake matters.”

It’s also worth remembering that the public conversation about UPFs can take a psychological toll. The idea that “processed equals bad” doesn’t just oversimplify nutrition – it can fuel guilt, anxiety and disordered eating, and risks stigmatising foods that are affordable and widely eaten, particularly by people on lower incomes or with limited time to cook.

It’s easy to demonise everything that comes in a wrapper, but not all UPFs are created equal. Many are high in added sugar and low in fibre, but others, like recovery powders or high-protein bars, can be valuable tools when used appropriately. “The key is to separate performance nutrition from everyday eating,” says Jevons.

“During training and racing, gels, chews, isotonic drinks and recovery shakes are effective and safe tools for fuelling and hydration. Outside those contexts, relying on them for convenience meals can crowd out the diversity of micronutrients, fibre and phytonutrients found in whole foods.” Her rule of thumb: if most of your total energy intake comes from minimally processed foods, using engineered products strategically for training and recovery is fine. The problem starts when they replace meals rather than support them.

For endurance riders, convenience isn’t indulgence – it’s a necessity. On the bike, when your heart rate is high and your stomach’s under strain, fuel needs to be portable, palatable and easy to digest. That’s where processed products come into their own. Sports nutrition is, by nature, engineered. Energy gels are designed to provide rapidly absorbed carbohydrates for instant energy. Carb drinks help sustain blood glucose levels on long rides. Recovery shakes provide protein in a form the body can handle when appetite is low. After a big session, sitting down to a full meal isn’t always realistic. A shake or bar can bridge the gap until normal eating feels possible again. In this context, processing isn’t the enemy; it’s part of the performance toolkit. Used thoughtfully and at the right times, these products do what they’re meant to: help you train harder, recover faster and feel stronger on the bike.

Target your consumption

High training loads don’t give athletes a free pass. Intense exercise protects against some metabolic risks, but it doesn’t erase them entirely. Triathlete Lionel Sanders found this out when blood tests showed pre-diabetic readings after years of relying on sugary convenience foods – proof that performance fitness doesn’t always equal metabolic health. “Cyclists are generally healthier than average,” says Jevons, “but the same principles still apply: nutrient density, variety and balance matter over the long term.” Processed products have their place, but they shouldn’t replace real food. What fuels performance in the short term isn’t always what sustains health over years of riding.

There’s no need to avoid ultra-processed foods completely, but they’re best used with purpose. Gels, bars and shakes have a clear role in training, recovery and competition. They just shouldn’t make up the backbone of your everyday diet. Base regular meals on whole, minimally processed foods: fruit, vegetables, whole grains, pulses, nuts, lean proteins and healthy fats. They underpin everything performance relies on: energy availability, recovery, immune function and resilience.

Barcode-scanning apps now make it easy to check how “processed” a food is. Tools like Zoe, Yuka and FoodSwitch have made the idea of ultra-processing more visible, though they can also oversimplify a complex issue. “Apps like Zoe and Yuka have done a great job raising awareness of food processing,” says Jevons, “but for athletes they can be a bit reductive. Flagging a recovery shake as a ‘red’ food because it contains isolates or stabilisers misses the context of why it’s being used.” For cyclists, these apps are best treated as prompts, not verdicts – reminders to consider overall diet quality rather than moral judgments on individual products. Awareness helps; guilt doesn’t.

On easier rides or rest days, it’s easy to swap processed products for real food. Bananas, dates, or rice cakes with jam work well mid-ride, while smoothies made with yoghurt, fruit and oats make effective recovery options. Some cyclists are also experimenting with honey-based gels as a natural alternative. Early research suggests they provide similar carbohydrate delivery to standard gels, with possible antioxidant benefits – though they can be tricky to carry. The trick is knowing when real food fits and when it doesn’t. For long, low-intensity sessions, whole-food fuel is great. For races or intervals, engineered products still win in terms of speed, portability and stomach comfort.

Ultra-processed foods have become easy targets, but the reality is far more nuanced. For the general population, cutting back makes sense. For cyclists, the key is how and why these products are used. “Used appropriately, these products are part of the solution, not the problem,” says Jevons. “They’re performance tools. The issue comes when they start creeping into every snack and meal.” On the bike, gels, bars and shakes do exactly what they’re meant to: provide fast, accessible fuel when it’s needed most. Off the bike, whole foods should take the lead. The goal isn’t to fear your fuel, but to understand it – because balance matters far more than the label on the wrapper. Processing isn’t the enemy; it’s just another part of the performance equation.

DECODING THE ‘KILLER BAR’ INGREDIENTS

What Joe Wicks’s documentary got cyclists talking about – and what the evidence really says.

Joe Wicks’s Killer Protein Bar raised eyebrows by listing dozens of additives commonly found in processed foods. Many of the same ingredients appear, in much smaller amounts, in everyday sports nutrition. Here’s what the science says:

Aspartame (sweetener): Mainly in diet drinks or protein powders, rarely in gels. Classified by WHO as “possibly carcinogenic”, but safe well below the accepted daily limit. You’d need to consume very large quantities to exceed it.

Sugar alcohols (polyols such as maltitol, xylitol, sorbitol): Common in low-sugar protein bars, not in gels or drinks. Safe, though excess can cause bloating or diarrhoea.

Emulsifiers & stabilisers (lecithin, gums, CMC): Keep powders smooth and bars stable. Lecithin is safe; limited research suggests CMC may alter gut bacteria, but there’s no proven harm in healthy athletes.

Colourings (titanium dioxide, carmine): Mostly cosmetic and now largely phased out. Titanium dioxide is banned in the EU; carmine remains permitted but may trigger rare allergies.

Palm oil and processed fats: Used for texture in some chocolate-coated bars. Research findings are mixed, but there’s little evidence of harm from the small amounts most people eat.

This feature was originally published in the 8 January 2026 print edition of Cycling Weekly magazine – available to buy on the newsstand every Thursday (UK only) while digital versions are available on Apple News and Readly. Subscriptions through Magazine's Direct.

Throughout 2025, UAE Team Emirates-XRG won almost 100 races including the Tour de France, Tour de Suisse, multiple classics and three Monuments. While Tadej Pogačar was the most prolific winner on the squad, his teammates still won more than 60 races between them, more than any other team in professional cycling.

It was an incredible feat, one they may be bound to repeat in 2026 given the age of many on their roster. Pogačar is only 27, Isaac Del Toro 22, Joao Almeida 27, and Jan Christen 21.

Just a few weeks into the 2026 season and UAE Team Emirates already have six wins, the most of any professional team. When we analyze their success the first thing that comes to mind is money.

With a bigger budget than most if not all their rivals, they can buy in the best riders and offer the biggest contracts. But talent and budget don't always translate to race wins, which is why good coaching is so important.

When Tim Wellens joined UAE Team Emirates in 2023, he was a solid WorldTour rider with multiple Grand Tour stage victories. Now, he is one of the best Classics riders and domestiques in the world; reliable on all sorts of terrain, and still improving at 34 years old.

Jhonatan Narvaez was an above average rider with INEOS Grenadiers, but after one year on UAE Team Emirates, he has become one of the best puncheurs in the world and a key support rider for Pogačar in the biggest races.

So how do they do it? How does UAE Team Emirates transform these riders from above average racers to some of the strongest cyclists in the world? That's what brought me to Calpe, Spain and an analysis of their training data. While they don't post all of their rides on Strava, they share more than a few secrets. Let's take a closer look.

UAE Team Emirates-XRG’s December Training Camp

Gone are the days of strict Zone 2 training all winter. Now, pros are performing intervals multiple times per week at winter training camps, including VO2 Max and sprint intervals. Here is what an example week looks like at the UAE Team Emirates- December training camp.

• Monday: 4hrs Zone 2
• Tuesday: Gym in the morning + 2hrs Zone 2 in the afternoon
• Wednesday: Aero testing at the velodrome + 4hrs Zone 2
• Thursday: 4.5hrs with 3x10min torque intervals
• Friday: 3hrs Zone 2
• Saturday: 3.5hrs with 3x8min 40/20s Over Unders
• Sunday: 1.5hrs Zone 1 coffee ride

There is a lot of information here, so let’s take it step-by-step. First, we can see that high-intensity intervals are done 2-3 times per week on top of lots of Zone two riding. The intervals are short and sharp, making up only 20-30 minutes out of a four-hour session. There is only one true rest day, with the other “recovery” days being three or four hour endurance rides. So why do they train this way?

While Zone two is a major part of the teams training schedule, it is not their only focus in winter. High intensity intervals help riders stay sharp for the long racing season ahed. Many of them race from February through to October, meaning they need to maintain race shape for almost nine months. Races are also faster, more aggressive, and more meaningful than ever. Riders cannot show up to races at 80% when they are expected to compete for the win in every race.

Year-round intensity can make you fitter and faster purely from a physiological perspective. Of course, you must tread carefully, because high-intensity training can quickly turn into too much of a good thing. It's a lot like the high-carb revolution. Fuel with 40 grams of carbs per hour, and you won't get very far in professional cycling. Start fueling with 120g per hour, and you will be faster and stronger for longer. That means more is better, right?

Try fueling with 400g of carbs per hour and you'll probably end up like Tom Dumoulin pulling down your bibs on the side of the road, or curled up in the fetal position with stomach cramps. That is too much of a good thing, just like high intensity training. If you did 40/20s every day, it would only be a matter of time before you crashed and burned. So what is the perfect balance between high and low intensity training?

Two days of high-intensity interval training per week seems to be the best approach for most cyclists. Highly-trained and experienced riders may be able to handle 3-4 days of intensity per week, depending on the type of intervals and overall training load. But on a regular basis, two days of high-intensity is best.

We must also point out that pros can handle more than amateurs, so we don't recommend copying UAE Team Emirates-XRG workout-for-workout. Their whole lives revolve around cycling – training, nutrition, recovery, massage, physio, sleep, etc. – so they can handle more than us amateurs with jobs and family responsibilities. There is a lot of value in what Pogačar and his teammates do, so let's take a look at their workouts first, and then we can see how we can try it ourselves.

UAE Team Emirates key Workouts

There are two workouts that nearly every UAE Team Emirages rider does on a regular basis: 40/20s and torque work. We’ll dive into the details of those sessions below, but we also have to mention a never-before-seen workout posted by none other than Tadej Pogačar. Here are the workouts:

1. Torque Bursts: 7x (4min @ 70% into 35sec at 130% and 50 rpm into 15sec high cadence sprint)

Pogačar posted this workout only a few weeks ago, and it is one of the toughest torque sessions we have seen. There are seven repeats of high-torque intervals at VO2 Max power immediately followed by a 15-second sprint. You can see Pogačar’s speed and cadence throughout each effort, fluctuating between 20-35 kph on a steep gradient. In between each interval, aim for high Zone 2 power rather than complete recovery.

2. 40/20s Over Unders: 3x8min 40/20s (40sec at 115% into 20sec at 85%) with 30-60min between sets

Every cyclist knows 40/20s, but few do them like UAE Team Emirates. Instead of explosive intervals, the UAE Team riders typically do 40/20s at a hard recovery pace. The 20-second intervals are quite hard, usually around Tempo or Sweetspot pace as opposed to complete recovery. You can see this in Pavel Sivakov’s workout, in the way that his speed doesn’t vary drastically during 8min of 40/20s.

If you want to try this workout at home, aim for high Zone 3 during the 20sec intervals, and VO2 Max power during the 40sec intervals. While the pros have time for 30-60min of Zone 2 between each set, you can just take 5-8min of recovery in between each set of 40/20s.

3. 3x10min Steady Torque: 3x10min Tempo at 50 rpm at 90-95% FTP with 5min recovery

UAE Team Emirates loves torque training, and you should too. In addition to Pogačar’s explosive torque session, the team also has their riders do blocks of steady torque intervals. That means 5-10min blocks at 50 rpm, at a power output just under FTP. Well-trained riders can perform these intervals at 95% FTP, while less experienced riders can aim for more of a Sweetspot pace around 90% FTP. This session includes shorter recoveries of just five minutes between each set.

The days are short, the temperatures low and the skies more often grey than blue - but winter riding doesn't have to be a grind. With the right approach, the coldest months can become some of the most rewarding, and the training you bank now will set up every mile of your spring and summer riding.

Cycling Weekly spoke to five current and former pros who have spent countless winters toughing it out on UK roads. Their tips, tricks and hard-earned habits will help you turn winter riding from something to suffer through into something you genuinely enjoy.

Pessimism pays off-layer up

We've all done it: stepped out on a chilly morning wearing less than we should because the forecast promised warmer hours ahead. More often than not, that warmth never comes, and you spend the entire ride, if not shivering, too cold for comfort. "Being too warm is better than being too cold," says Oliver Knight of Cofidis, who is based in the Bristol area.

You can always vent heat, he reminds us: "You might think leaving the house a bit overdressed isn't the best idea, but you can always unzip and tolerate a flappy jersey." And in winter, when no one's chasing speed records, a little extra drag is a price worth paying for comfort.

Keep your friends close, your rain jacket closer

Blue skies can be deceptive, and every pro agrees: the best waterproof cycling jacket you own should accompany you on every ride, no matter how promising the forecast. Whether it's on your back or tucked into a pocket, it's your insurance policy against a suddenly grim turn in the weather. "Even in summer in England I always carry a rain jacket with me - it's like an emergency go-to, as it's great for warming you up quickly," says Devon-based Harrison Wood, now of Portuguese team Feirense-Beeceler. "The forecast might say it won't rain, but then you get caught by a heavy shower." If you've ridden in Britain, you know exactly what he means.

Gilet or jacket? Go for both

The French might turn their noses up, but the best gilets that are usually reserved for spring and autumn have a hidden superpower in winter. Wood shares his go-to hack: "I put a gilet on underneath a good winter jacket, so it acts like a boil-in-the-bag. It keeps your core a lot warmer, and we know that if you can do that, the rest of your body stays warm." A simple extra layer, a big boost in comfort.

A quick heads-up...

Helmets offer some protection from the cold, and a bit from the rain, but when the mercury really drops, pros know to take extra measures. Former Ineos Grenadiers road captain Luke Rowe has a couple of tried-and-tested options. "You'll feel warmer overall if your head is warm," he says. "I'd always wear a skull cap in winter, or a cotton cap - though it's a dying art, as they're not aero - which also works."

Rowe still swears by a piece of kit from 2008, back when he was a junior on the Rapha Condor-Recycling.co.uk team. "We had this Rapha cap that covered your ears and had a peak - it was the best thing I ever had," he recalls. The modern version of Rapha's peaked merino hat, the one Rowe remembers so fondly, is still available today.

Five-layer the feet

Few sensations ruin a winter ride faster than freezing feet. Current British champion Millie Couzens of Fenix-Deceuninck, who spends most of her winter training in Oxfordshire, knows this struggle all too well - and has developed a few creative solutions. "I wear ski socks in winter, as cold feet are something I really struggle with," she says.

"Last year, when it was really cold, I wore socks, put my feet inside plastic bags, and added toe covers and overshoes on top of my shoes which were quite loose." That's five layers of defence. Did it do the trick? "Kinda!" she laughs. "My feet were definitely warmer than before."

Foil the cold

The old-school tips are often the best, and 2016 British champion Adam Blythe sings the praises of a ubiquitous kitchen item. "I'd wrap tinfoil over my socks, and then again on the outside of the shoes with the overshoes on top. A double layer of it," he says. Were his feet kept warm? "We believed it worked anyway," he grins. Rowe used the same tactic, and even got creative on some occasions. "I'd sometimes get normal socks and put them over the shoes, as it was cheaper than buying overshoes," he says. "It became quite cool and common, if I remember correctly."

Pocket full of spares

Hands and fingers are just as exposed to the elements as feet - arguably even more so when the rain sets in, so picking the best winter gloves for the conditions is essential. That's why Harrison Wood plans ahead, dedicating a jersey pocket to spare kit. "If it's looking quite wet, I'll wear a pair of neoprene gloves, and have spare woollen neoprene gloves in my pocket, so if it gets wet and cold I can swap them," he says. "For me, having as many emergency garments as possible in your pocket is really crucial, especially gloves."

Roast those beans

On rides longer than a couple of hours, the universal advice is: always make time for a coffee stop. "I'm a big, big fan of cafe stops," Rowe says. "It gives us a chance to warm up, and more importantly it's good for the social side of the sport. Sitting round the table shooting the breeze for half an hour with a hot drink and a bit of cake is the cafe culture that we grew up on and we shouldn't leave behind." Not only does a cafe stop allow us to socialise and get hot fluids into our system, having the double effect of rehydrating and warming up the body, but it's a chance to dry out. Wafting wet gloves under the air dryers in the toilets is a staple part of a winter cyclist's life.

A little of what you fancy...

Brownie, banana cake, Bakewell tart, apple pie... the list of sweet snacks available to feed hungry cyclists mid-ride goes on. But Knight has another winter preference. "In these months you're not doing too much intensity and you're riding quite easy so your stomach is less likely to suffer if you do allow yourself a heavier treat when you stop," he says.

And what's his treat? "A sausage sandwich with ketchup. It goes down so well." This recommendation probably isn't from the pages of Cofidis's team nutritionist's book, but it pays to slacken the rules in winter. If the food provides fuel, tastes good and lifts your mood, voilá!

Watch out for winter thirst

Cold weather can trick you into thinking you're not thirsty, but dehydration is still possible in winter. With fewer on-the-bike sips and most refuelling happening at cafe stops, having a sweet, tasty solution in the bidon can make a real difference. "Sometimes in winter you don't drink as much, so I always make sure that my drinks are high in electrolytes and carbs," says Wood. The mix helps maintain fluid balance and keeps energy levels topped up - making every mouthful count when you're less inclined to drink.

Don't let your guards down

There's nothing more infuriating in winter than riding behind someone who doesn't have a set of the best bike mudguards on their bike. The road muck flicks up off their wheel and covers your bike, your face and your clothing (as well as their own). Knight pleads for everyone to invest in mudguards. "It's my biggest piece of advice make sure you've got good ones," he says. "It not only protects you and others from road spray, it also makes kit last longer and everything on the bike work a bit better."

Keep on running

The benefits of running for cyclists are well-documented, with the likes of Tadej Pogacar, Remco Evenepoel, Primoz Roglic and Mathieu van der Poel all extolling the virtues of winter running. Recently, Van der Poel ran 10km in an impressive time of 33.41. When Knight is at home on a Saturday in winter, he'll often head down to his local Parkrun. "It's full-gas for 5km, good competitiveness and it's a good way of getting some intensity into me," he says. "It's also using all the key muscles around the knees and ankles."

Hit the gym

Every cycling team urges its riders to get into the gym at least once a week through winter - and amateurs should follow suit. Functional strength work, mobility and targeted muscle-building pay off fast. "You see improvements quite quickly and that's really motivating," Wood says. "From one week to the next you might be able to tolerate an extra 5kg during squats. Before long, it's feeling easier and your legs are not as knackered afterwards. This sort of training improves my sprinting, too, so it has a benefit when racing starts."

Knight has had the same experience. "You hit all the key muscle groups and you feel really productive," he says. "As cyclists we're novices in the gym and we're not lifting heavy weights, so you see a massive progression quite quickly. That's beneficial mentally as you're telling yourself that you're getting stronger." And when the lifting is done, Knight makes sure to finish with heat exposure. "There are so many studies into the benefits of heat training, so I spend a bit of time in the sauna afterwards."

Let the weather set the schedule

Most of us can't cherry-pick ride times the way pros can - but we can borrow their mindset. Couzens adapts her plan rather than forcing sessions through foul conditions. "If the weather is bad, I move my training around, and bring my rest day forward rather than pushing through bad weather," she says.

"If it's forecast to stay fine for only a few hours, then I will do shorter intervals that day." The takeaway is simple: protect the workload, but stay flexible. Winter rarely plays nice, so reshuffling sessions is not failure - it's strategy. And when the forecast is grim for days on end, the turbo trainer (or a static bike in the gym) is always there to keep the momentum rolling.

Don't place too much faith in the forecast

We've all had a day from hell - a ride that turned into a nightmare and left you questioning why you even ride a bike. Fear not, the pros have them too. Millie Couzens remembers a winter ride a few years ago when the weather failed to follow the forecast. "It was meant to stay dry, but I went out and it rained the whole time. Everywhere was flooded, and we had to keep changing the route.

At one point we went off-road to avoid a flooded road, and we ended up cycling into an even bigger flood. The ride was meant to be three hours, but we finished five hours later and I couldn't feel any part of my body - everything was numb." What did Couzens learn? "That better route planning is essential. Avoid the places that are more susceptible to flooding, and always have an escape route home." Harrison Wood tells a similar tale of forecast failure:

"Last winter we went out on a club ride and it was meant to be an alright day, with no rain in the forecast. Fifteen minutes after starting, it was torrential rain. I only had a normal pair of gloves on - not waterproof - and by the time we got to the clubhouse my hands were completely frozen. I had to wear a spare pair of socks on my hands just to get home. It barely helped - my hands were white and in awful pain by the time we got back."

For cyclists the most dangerous shark in the world isn’t the Great White but a lesser-known, entirely metaphorical species, one that quietly circles us in middle age: the risk of heart problems. Only about 40 people suffered unprovoked shark-attacks in 2024, whereas thousands of riders were “bitten” by this figurative predator. The word unprovoked matters: just as surfers can be taken by surprise, many cyclists feel perfectly fit and calm before a heart incident suddenly strikes.

Like an overconfident surfer riding a tube, I was blissfully unaware of the danger encircling me. I had assumed I was better apprised of the risks, as the author of a book, The Midlife Cyclist, all about how to survive and thrive as an older rider. I have cycled for as long as I can remember, and competed for decades in road racing, time trialling, and off road. I knew my body well – or so I thought until, at the end of 2024, I began to feel far more fatigued than normal. At 62 years old, I had been working long hours, and my commute to the railway station, usually half an hour, was now taking nearly 40 minutes. Cycling had become a joyless slog.

Climbing the stairs at work left me breathless, and I felt faint if I stood up too quickly. Eventually I accepted these symptoms as warning signs and, upon mentioning them to my wife, soon found a cuff on my arm and sensor on my finger. “Your pulse is 26 and blood-pressure is 85/50,” my wife said with a frown. The next morning I was sent for tests – bloods, BP, pulse and ECG – before being sent home to wait for the results.

I deteriorated over the weekend and was taken into A&E on the Sunday evening. Everything happened quickly and calmly as I was expedited to the cardiac ward and connected to various machines. For the next six days every beat of my heart was monitored and recorded, even while I was deep inside an MRI scanner. The medical team confirmed I had a condition called Mobitz type-two heart block, whereby the electrical signals from the heart’s upper chambers are progressively failing to reach the lower chambers.

Looking at the alien ECG and pulse read-out, I observed my heart’s weird dance – first rumbling around 24bpm, then skipping up to 50bpm, before plummeting back to 24 again. Essentially my heart had gone into limp-home mode; the ante-room to complete shutdown. Forty or 50 years ago, patients with this condition were sent home for quiet bed rest with the advice to get their affairs in order.

Failing to spot the signs

I had known for years that I had an abnormally low heart rate, known as bradycardia. My resting pulse was typically around 32bpm, and seven years ago I started to experience unusual heart rhythms and long heart pauses at night. I made the recommended changes to my lifestyle, slept more, cut out alcohol, and tried to de-stress my life. Yet I was still in denial about the seriousness of the problem.

My hypocrisy was breathtaking. First, I write a book about midlife cycling heart health best principles, then I relentlessly fail to join the dots around my own precarious health. It’s almost too painful to admit that I was also, at the same time, writing my second book, about racing cyclists’ unwillingness to listen to their bodies. I am humbled by what has happened to me – but am I any wiser?

After a week on the cardiac ward, I was wheeled into an operating theatre and fitted with a pacemaker. Once back on the ward, my heart had lost its funky syncopation and was metronomic once more. One of the younger medics called by to check my pacemaker’s function, connecting to it via Bluetooth to optimise the settings.

For the usually chilled-out surfer, the extruding, metal-grey dorsal fin advancing in their direction is a serious blot on the otherwise azure horizon. The shark’s-fin-shaped heart rate trace is the equivalent blot for the middle-aged cyclist. Suddenly we have a real worry on our hands. Is it OK to keep riding once we’re aware our heart is behaving strangely? Is it foolish even to be asking that question?

The most common cardiac issue in midlife cyclists is atrial fibrillation (AF). AF is caused by disordered electrical signals generated within the heart’s upper-chambers (atria), and most often presents as an abnormally high reading on your heart monitor, with a consequent 30% immediate drop in power. “Atrial fibrillation is five times more common in masters endurance athletes than among their sedentary peers,” says cardiologist Dr Nigel Stephens. Exact figures do not exist, but around 5–10% of long-term endurance athletes are affected by AF, compared to around 1–2% of the non-athletic population. Men are much more susceptible than women.

Booze is an aggravating factor too. Recent research has shown that even moderate intake of alcohol, when combined with intense endurance exercise, significantly increases the incidence of AF in veteran athletes. Intense endurance and alcohol do not mix well in older athletes. Thankfully AF is a very treatable condition – typically with a combination of medication and lifestyle changes. A procedure called an ablation is sometimes recommended, which seeks to remove the heart cells responsible for the jumbled rhythms.

Just as booze should be moderated, so too hard efforts, especially those that push us beyond our usual range – at least until you have been thoroughly checked and screened. Maximal efforts are inherently stressful on our biology. “These very hard efforts may aggravate silent conditions such as hypertension and aortic aneurysms,” says Stephens. “Screening for these conditions is important for some riders.” Midlife cyclists intending to train hard and/or race should visit their GP and request a QRISK score, which evaluates heart risk based on many variables including age, sex, blood pressure, cholesterol levels, family history, and body mass index (BMI).

Returning to cycling

I am now assessed every six months at the pacemaker clinic, and Stephens is helping me optimise the pacemaker’s settings to allow me to get back to my more normal riding. For me, there remain some important unanswered questions. What caused my Mobitz II heart block? Were my cycling and my lifestyle to blame? “We don’t know what causes your form of heart block,” says Stephens. “In the elderly, it is usually associated with wear-and-tear fibrosis [scarring].” It’s possible that the explanation lurks somewhere in my medical history, but as yet the science can’t give me definite answers.

Is there a link between my bradycardia, decades of racing and subsequent heart problems? “No, your lifetime of exercise probably did not cause your heart block, nor did your bradycardia, which is typical of an athlete,” says Stephens, acknowledging the adaptive changes in the heart that occur in all endurance athletes. In other words, although I didn’t recognise the circling shark, at least I hadn’t provoked it.

For midlife cyclists like me who want to continue riding, there are some important rules of thumb. First, we should never ignore a change in symptoms or how we feel – which was a big mistake on my part. Second, don’t panic. Thanks to modern medicine, most heart problems affecting older athletes are eminently treatable, and timely diagnosis and treatment generally produce a more favourable outcome. Don’t wait for it to get worse – seek help now.

As cyclists, we have an advantage: we’re in touch with our bodies. A missing 50 watts or unexplained dip in performance are noticed and can be acted upon. Likewise any new, unexplained symptoms such as fatigue, feeling faint, or significant changes in pulse rate, blood pressure, or heart rate variability (HRV). If you experience an unusually high heart rate while training or racing, you should stop and seek medical attention.

In the end, my encounter with this metaphorical shark has forced a reckoning. I’ve discovered the hard way that even a lifetime of fitness does not grant immunity from the silent currents of age, stress and biology. What it can grant us, however, is awareness – the ability to feel when something is amiss, and the discipline to act before the danger closes in. My pacemaker is now my quiet companion, ensuring my heart ticks away with the steady rhythm I once took for granted, and my riding has begun to recover a sense of lightness and joy. I’m grateful for that.

What I’ve learned, above all, is this: our bodies are constantly whispering information, and midlife demands that we listen more carefully than ever. Fitness is not a shield but a tool, one that helps us recognise changes early and respond with clarity rather than denial. The shark will always circle, but we needn’t drift helplessly into its path.

Older riders: an evolutionary experiment

When I wrote my book The Midlife Cyclist, helped by cardiologist Dr Nigel Stephens, I explored an unsettling truth: we are the first humans in 12,000 generations to push our bodies intensely into ages when most of our ancestors were already dead. Modern endurance athletes are, in effect, a live epidemiological study. Crash-test dummies in lycra.

Exercise is without doubt the greatest health-protecting ‘medicine’ the pharmaceutical industry never invented, but its dose-response relationship is not linear. We train to provoke a biological and neurobiological reaction: apply acute stress now to stimulate long-term adaptation. But you can’t compress eight hours of sleep into two, nor can you fast-track recovery.

When recovery is ignored, we accumulate allostatic load – the combined wear and tear from training, poor sleep, alcohol, pollution, arguments, work stress and everything else our biology perceives as threat. Too many stressors too close together overwhelm the body’s ability to return to equilibrium. We become fatigued, irritable, sore, mentally foggy and on the brink of illness. Ageing slows every stage of recovery, further complicating the equation.

Most of the time, exercise is profoundly good for the heart – but, as Stephens noted when I interviewed him, “there are some abnormalities and some conditions in the heart which are aggravated, or even caused by, being physically active.”

WHEN BPM SIGNALS SOS

A slow heart rate is often a badge of honour for cyclists, indicating great cardiovascular fitness. But a BPM too low can augur serious problems, as Dr Nigel Stephens (nigelstephens.co.uk) explains.

There are no absolutes, but less than 50bpm at rest is slow and defined as ‘bradycardia’. Less than 40bpm is very slow and usually requires some medical evaluation. A low heart rate may be of no concern – natural genetic variation or an adaptation indicating increased fitness. It is often easy to distinguish by doing an exercise test. If the heart rate rises to match the demands of exercise, generally all is well.

A quite common cause is vasovagal syndrome. Here, the vagus nerve may inappropriately slow the heart. It is generally benign and managed with lifestyle measures rather than medical technology. It may be due to wear and tear in the heart’s own pacemaker, the sinus node. Typically seen older people, vasovagal syndrome may cause dizziness and fatigue and may require a permanent pacemaker.

A more serious cause, as in Phil’s case, is heart block. Here, the electrical signal from the sinus node is not conducted reliably to the pumping chambers (ventricles). It may be slow conduction (first degree), intermittently fail (second degree) or completely fail (third degree). In third-degree, the ventricles still pump, thanks to their intrinsic rhythmicity, but very slowly with no rise with effort. Higher grades of heart block carry a risk of complete blackouts and, for some, sudden death. They are generally effectively treated with a permanent pacemaker.

This feature was originally published in the 11 December 2025 print edition of Cycling Weekly magazine – available to buy on the newsstand every Thursday (UK only) while digital versions are available on Apple News and Readly. Subscriptions through Magazine's Direct.

When I told people I was going to ride a spin bike for 24 hours straight, it was met with a lot of raised eyebrows. It’s understandable, once you learn I can’t actually ride a bike. And yet there I was, signing up for Bigmoose’s Project 1 Million, volunteering in a team of five, among hundreds of people, to cycle for an entire day. I was ready to find out just how much a spin bike could take out of someone with zero endurance experience.

Signing up to Project 1 million – in an effort to help raise £1,000,000 to fund mental health therapy – I had envisioned an entirely different experience; sitting in a quiet room, spinning, maybe listening to a podcast. I expected boredom to be a big challenge here. I was very wrong.

The atmosphere was like nothing else I’ve experienced. With the themed music hours, spin instructors, lively hosts and fun performances, there was constantly some sort of distraction from the growing aches and pains.

It was the people involved that really levelled up the experience, whether it was the friends and family of spinners cheering people on, the amazing volunteers filling up water bottles and giving out unlimited sweets or other spinners giving their words of encouragement after their sessions on the bike, this is really what made the event as special as it was.

The one thing I did let myself down on was preparation.

In my defence, I originally signed up for one hour on the bike to begin with. It was only four days prior that I eventually agreed to 24 hours. I was entirely winging it and that was quite obvious.

I did, however, really believe I had outdone myself in the snack department. I turned up with a sandwich bag for every hour. This was great for the first few hours but, by the time I had eaten six bananas and so many handfuls of bland crackers and rice cakes, my plan went out the window. I just wasn't hungry at all and the very unappetising selection of snacks did not help my case at all.

At around the midnight mark my team ordered pizzas. I knew I needed to keep eating and this sounded like the more appealing approach. Whilst it felt great in the moment, I am convinced that those few pizza slices were the cause of my early morning slump that only the coffee given to me by a lovely stranger at 7.30am could save.

Something many people have also questioned me on is my choice of clothing. It was a given that everyone would be wearing the same orange spotty tees that Bigmoose friends always champion, so I didn’t feel I had to have much thought over my outfit. My lack of experience meant I hadn’t even considered the thought of padded cycling shorts. The silver lining of this is that people were impressed all the more but I certainly would not recommend it.

Here are the things I learned...

Inexperience wasn’t a disadvantage

I really had no business signing up to an endurance ride, with barely any skill or knowledge. I only started taking up spin classes two months before the event; this is ultimately what made me realise this was the kind of challenge I needed in my life.

Surprisingly, being a novice had its perks. Without expectations or bad habits to unlearn, I could focus entirely on the essentials: keep pedalling, stay hydrated, and get through each hour.

Somewhere between hours five and ten, I realised I was learning something bigger than just cycling technique; I was building patience, persistence, and the strange pride that comes from doing something you never thought you could.

By the end, I understood that endurance isn’t something you’re simply born with and sometimes, the hardest challenges teach you the most about yourself. For the first time, I felt like I could push through uncertainty and actually surprise myself.

If surviving as a total novice was a victory, enduring the endless spin routines was the real test.

Endurance is built by showing up again

As well as the general spinning, there were spin classes which ran every other hour, all led by my team, Studio Tarw, and I did pretty much every single one.

Some sessions were deceptively easy like the 8am spin, 20 hours in, which somehow felt like a breeze. Others, like the 6am class at hour 18, felt like the bike was winning. At about 4:30am, I began to regret every decision I had made up to that point.

It’s only when people start saying, "It’s OK, you’ve only got 8 hours left", that you really begin to understand the scale of things.

Endurance isn’t linear. Your legs don’t care how fun a routine may be; they just keep reminding you that they exist. But the variety helped in its own way. Between classes there were interviews, live bands, video tributes, and emotional talks from people that had been helped by Bigmoose, a mental health charity. It was exhausting, emotional, chaotic and exactly the kind of distraction my legs needed to keep pedalling.

Purpose changes how suffering feels

Purpose doesn’t make your legs less tired or your hips less sore, but it changes how the struggle feels. I wasn’t just spinning for me; I was spinning for the people whose stories filled the room, for the cause behind the chaos, and for the small sense of pride that comes from doing something you never thought you could.

Seeing how Bigmoose supports mental health, and knowing that my efforts contributed to that, gave every pedal a new weight, one that was meaningful rather than miserable. By the time I made it through, I realised that simply showing up, pedalling through hour after hour, and refusing to quit was a huge personal achievement in itself.

Spin bikes are their own kind of torture

If you’d asked me before this challenge what a spin bike could do to a person, I would have given a vague shrug. Now I know. It’s relentless. Your legs ache in ways you didn’t know were possible, your hips and back stage a constant protest, and the minutes can feel like hours. The physical and mental pain can make you question why you ever sat on one in the first place.

Of course, this is probably true of an ordinary bike too, but I don't know that feeling.

The fact this feeling of suffering was shared created a powerful camaraderie. Strangers came up to cheer me on, to offer a smile, a word of encouragement or a coffee. The communal struggle turned the torture into something inspiring. Your body might hurt, but your heart swells a little, too.

By the end, I understood that spin bikes are brutal, unforgiving machines. But they’re also the perfect stage for people to show up for each other, and for small acts of encouragement to turn exhaustion into achievement. Pain became pride, struggle became community, and surviving the spin bike felt like a triumph in more ways than one.

A full day on a spin bike is brutal. But so is skipping the chance to do something meaningful. Thanks to Bigmoose, I got to push my limits, cheer on strangers, and feel part of something bigger than myself. Whether on a bike, on your feet, or cheering from afar, the charity lets everyone make an impact and if I had any advice it would be to get involved (and wear padded cycling shorts) because you can do hard things.

And between now and the next Bigmoose event, my next big challenge will be... learning to ride a bike.

If you're reading this while making notes in your journaling pad while sipping something virtuous and non-alcoholic, I take my hat off to you. If these are new-for-26 habits, long may they last and I hope you get a lot from them.

Alternatively, you might be imbibing a cocktail of all the leftover Christmas booze while eating cake and loudly declaring your lack of any belief in new year's resolutions. Either way, it's all good.

Resolutions have in some quarters become victims of their own hype, with resolution-making decried as just another invented requirement and another guilt-stick with which to beat ourselves.

But looked at in the cold light of day they become mere process goals of a kind. Milestones you put in place to help you achieve something. That might be adding 20 watts to your functional threshold power by starting a training programme; or becoming a less 'enthusiastic' drinker by only doing so on special occasions; or improving your sleep by walking outside each morning.

Personally, I began to lose a certain amount of faith in my own new year's resolutions when I realised I was essentially putting processes in place to allow me to get back to square one each summer, before a winter of hiding from the bad weather capped by the excesses of the festive season undid all the work. Again.

However, there's no denying that January represents an obvious slate-cleaning opportunity. Assuming we can bring ourselves to overlook the artificial constructs of the Gregorian calendar, there it is, shining like a beacon – 1 January and a brand new year.

Sure, you could pick any day of the year to make changes, and many of us do. But the very first day provides the ideal starting block.

For cyclists in the northern hemisphere, it works all the more effectively, given that a consistent programme of riding and healthy living begun on 1/1 has the potential, if you last the course, to transform your fitness by the time the warm weather rolls around in May. Perfect timing for all those event goals that we often spend this time of year fervently scribbling down.

For me, it'll be another dry January and February – something I've done the past three years and that acts as an effective, if slightly dull, reset after Christmas.

There is also the beginnings of a plan to be better on the bike this summer than I was last summer, but right now that feels more like an abstract hope rather than any kind of concrete resolution (I know, good luck with that one, right?).

Most of all though, I resolve to keep enjoying riding my bike as often as possible and to remember that, even when it feels like a drag, nobody ever regrets going for a bike ride.

Whether it's the midweek blasts crammed in during lunch hour on familiar local trails and lanes, or long weekend rides exploring further afield, I'm going to try to remind myself that they're all a privilege and they all count. Rather than just being a stepping stone on the way to improved fitness, each one is a little slice of living life to the full and I'm aiming not to lose sight of that.

I'm also going to aim to redress my 'cycling hermit' status this year, and enjoy riding far more often with friends and clubmates. I reckon about 90% of outings over the last two years have been solo, and a few recent rides with mates have reminded me of what a joy that can be.

Whatever your cycling goals, and whether or not you count them as resolutions, I hope you enjoy your riding in 2026. Happy New Year!

I’ve decided to review my own 2025 season earlier than usual this year, mainly to put it out of its misery. It’s a B minus at best. A “Needs work”, or a “Michael is easily distracted and this year completely failed to make the most of his admittedly limited abilities.”

My target-setting was non-existent. The last few years have seen the careful selection of things like championship races which I obviously wasn’t going to win, but which at least provided a bit of structure for the mediocrity and, when the day arrived, a reminder not to be too ambitious. This year I set out to “enjoy a few local races”, and that’s not a target, it’s just an excuse for a few beers afterwards.

As if to prove the importance of target setting to a successful season, my training matched the targeting perfectly. Other than one or two social rides, I didn't ride for longer than 90 minutes between December and July. I managed better than that the year I broke my hip, and indeed better than that while I still had a broken hip and lived in fear of getting a puncture because while I could ride a bike I couldn’t stand up unsupported.

I keep setting out on what were intended to be two-hour rides, planned as a stepping stone to some three-hour rides, and coming home after an hour and a bit. I’m in a destructive cycle where I don’t feel like I’m doing enough riding, so to make up for it I ride harder. That means there’s less of a straightforward out-in-the-countryside pleasure in it, so I do less again.

I don’t do it hard enough to compensate, by the way, just hard enough to put myself off the whole idea and keep the rides short. You’ve heard of “junk miles?” as a description of distance covered to no great training purpose? Well, I’ve invented “junk intensity”.

I was actually at my fittest at the end of February, because I spent most of the winter just riding e-races against random fields of strangers from all over the world. The races were short, and, more often than not, very hard indeed. Then, when spring arrived, I started proper training, which ended up being half-hearted rides focussed mainly on swerving round potholes.

I’m still not nearly as bad as I deserve to be. This has been the story of my cycling life – I’ve complained for years that I never get as much benefit from training as I feel I should – long months of carefully structured work produce gains much smaller than I’ve seen in others, even others that I’ve coached.

But I’ve always been less grateful for the opposite effect, which is that when I don’t bother training I never fall as far as I should. Last year I did some real training, and I could manage a very credible 405 watts for twenty minutes. This year I’ve trained like a moron and I can still do 395.

You might feel like this is living the dream – and to some extent it is. But it’s one of the reasons it’s so hard to motivate myself. I don’t get much from training that I don’t already have. I imagine being incredibly rich has a similar effect on your work ethic, but I also reckon being a billionaire would have compensations that comfortably eclipse being able to beat a Belgian called something like ZZZTopMerckx to the top of an imaginary mountain on Zwift.

In a way the answer is obvious – give up on training and just go for a ride. In many ways that’s the purpose of my earlier than usual season review. It’s a respectable way to bin the whole thing and just have fun.

Of course, that is probably the moment that I’ll suddenly be inspired to do some long rides and finally get some form together. ZZZTopMerckx, you’ve been warned. I’m coming for you.

Great inventions of cycling: sweat

Sweat is a liquid emitted from pores on the skin of humans (and a few other animals) in response to a number of stimuli, including high temperatures, physical exertion and fear. All of these are highly relevant to the sort of sportsperson who enjoys riding in the summer, riding hard in the summer, and just occasionally gets things horribly wrong. (Who among us has not squirted sweat from every pore instantaneously on realising they’ve committed themselves to a 30 kph corner at 50 kph?)

Humans developed the ability to sweat around 2 million years ago, around the same point we lost our fur. It provided a valuable means of thermoregulation in hot African environments.

In general, the fitter you are, the more you can sweat, and the more dilute your sweat will be. A top sweater can lose up to four litres of sweat an hour. This doesn’t sound all that much, but when dripped onto the floor of a warm public gym, is sufficient to get you banned for life.

Sweating works simply by allowing evaporation off the skin, which cools the blood vessels which funnel cooler blood back into the core of the body. The average human has two-to-four million sweat glands. I often suspect that cyclists have many, many more.

According to legend, Sheffield is built on seven hills – just like Rome. Along with steel, snooker, Def Leppard and Pulp, those hills define the city. It was part of what attracted me to the place; I’ve lived here since 2018. There was barely a single flat road to be found. But where exactly were these seven hills? Did they have names, and could I plot a killer route to ride over each one without crossing the city boundaries? I knew that one day I would have to find out.

In the case of Rome, the Eternal City, the seven peaks – Palatine Hill, Aventine Hill, Capitoline Hill, Caelian Hill, Esquiline Hill, Viminal Hill and Quirinal Hill – are all well defined, each home to a separate settlement before they merged to form the heart of the Roman Empire. With Sheffield, it’s not quite that simple. I found out that there are not seven hills, in fact, but eight – and to make it even more confusing, they are actually long ridges, rather than distinct peaks.

These ridgelines are defined by the seven rivers that separate them and can be identified by the eight roads that run along their spines (see box). Armed with this knowledge, I started to plot my route, aiming to cross each ridge while also taking in a fair share of the city’s classic ascents. It was then that the plan began to escalate – and an idea hit me. What if I could plot a route that ticked off not seven or eight but 100 distinct climbs all within the city limits? Suddenly I had the most on-brand challenge I’d ever set myself.

Seven hills? How did the myth begin?

It appears the first popular reference to Sheffield having seven hills can be traced back to George Orwell’s 1936 book The Road to Wigan Pier: “The town is very hilly (said to be built on seven hills, like Rome),” he wrote, “and everywhere streets of mean little houses blackened by smoke run up at sharp angles…” It seems that, like many Orwellisms, this one stuck in the public consciousness. In any case, Rome has seven hills and who doesn’t want to be associated with Rome?

Much more recently, local historian JG Harston took the question seriously and tried to locate each hill, and ended up instead identifying eight ridgelines. The urban myth, forged in steel, is represented across the city, from convenience store names to the Seven Hills Cycling Club.

Before I went any further, I set some rules. First, the route must not exceed 100 miles; second, no road can be climbed twice; third, there can be no dead-ends; and fourth, the ride must start and finish in the same place. To qualify as a climb, each road must gain elevation between a determined start and finish point, but with no minimum height or distance. Starting from my home in Greystones, the route I plotted went up and down, back and forth, using the eight ridges as a framework. Several times I ended up with an indecipherable tangle and had to start again.

Days later, it was finally complete – a thing of beauty: 100 distinct climbs across the city. It resembled some sort of Strava Rorschach test – is that shape a duck or the devil?

Gearing down for the day

With the prep done, it was time to hit the roads. Climb number one was Brocco Bank, and it’s steady away – really steady away. I’d made the sensible decision to fit my compact chainset so I had smaller ratios for the big climbs later on. It was disconcerting, therefore, to be already in bottom gear on the third climb of the day, Shore Lane, which ramps up to 20%. Steep gradients are the norm around here, and even Sheffield hasn’t enough steel to make a warning sign for them all. Atop Shore Lane I was also at the apex of the first of the eight ridges, which is defined by Redmires Road.

I needed to make the most of the few places where my legs got a rest, and the first one arrived very early on, descending into the Rivelin Valley. My next conquests would be a couple of solid ascents up either side of the second ridgeline, Stannington Road. The best of these, and the first serious climb of the day, was Spout Lane, a real beast with a couple of choice 20% hairpins. From the top of Stannington Road, it was back into the Rivelin Valley once more, then up some more 20% through Bole Hills as I made my way over to Blake Street.

The steepest residential road in the city, Blake Street is famous for its gradient and even featured in the movie The Full Monty. If I’m riding it in competitive company, I hate it – I simply don’t have the punch for such short climbs. Thankfully, today was not about combat, but just about cresting the summit. Next, I headed into Walkley, where I was able to tick off five climbs in a couple of kilometres. With rows of terraces set on a slope, it was up one, down the next – and repeat until they ran out – bagging multiple climbs in a short distance.

Crossing into the Dykes Hall Road, I repeated the same exercise of up and down in Wadsley, before facing the fearsome Langsett Avenue. This climb is a brute. Ditto the following climb, Long Line. There are two Long Lines; both evil, dead-straight roads up the hillside.

Mercifully, the next rise was my very favourite Sheffield climb, Wheel Lane. Actually three roads in one, Wheel Lane snakes back and forth past some very nice houses, has some 20% sections, and is everything I love about short, steep climbs.

I felt compelled to include roads I hated, as well as those I loved, and the next was an absolute beast: climb 26 of the day, Jaw Bone, or Oughtibridge Lane, is sacred ground in Sheffield because it was one of the climbs featured in the 2014 Tour de France. Permanent signs adorn it, reminding people forever of that fantastic day. Another nine rapid climbs later, it was time for another Tour veteran, the horrible Jenkin Road.

I rarely come to this side of town unless I’m picking up family from Meadowhall shopping centre – or “bloody Meadowhall” as I like to call it – and hadn’t ridden Jenkin Road more than a couple of times. Rising into Wincobank from the industrial environs of the Don Valley, this road traces one of the eight ridges, which made it very satisfying to ride.

City of contrasts

Over the course of the day, I was getting a fairly comprehensive overview of the city, from the industrial grime in the east to the millionaires’ mansions in the west, and a bit of everything in between. Sheffield is a city of contrasts, of rich and poor, clean and dirty, and the stretch from Wincobank, through Page Hall and Burngreave, was without doubt the dirtiest. Traversing glass-strewn roads, I was lucky to escape without getting a flat. Heading south past the famous Park Rise flats, I ticked off the shortest climb on the route, Coates Street, which is just 50m long.

Remember my rule: if a road ends at a higher altitude than it starts, it counts.

To rack up 100, I was going to need to accept some short ones.

This brought me to 40, still 10 short of halfway, and to Blackstock Road, through Greenhill, and ticking off 11 climbs in the terraced streets of Woodseats and Meersbrook. Heading west, having navigated the Derbyshire Lane and City Road ridges. I’d now ridden climbs up seven of the eight Sheffield ridges – but my quest for 100 climbs was far from over. I’d plotted the route to pass my front door, so I popped in to grab some home-made onigiri (Japanese rice balls) I’d left waiting for me.

The perfect sustenance, I stuffed one down my throat and another in my pocket – celebrating 67 climbs ridden, a mere 33 to go.

Up next were my local hills, including the mighty Dobbin Hill, which my daughter used to have to walk up every day on her way to school – I’ll never forget the moment she realised: “Dad, can we move back to London?” she sobbed. With Greystones ticked off, I faced a date with Lodge Lane, which had been looming large on the horizon all day. What was I thinking when I made it climb number 76? One of the hardest climbs in the city, it’s the road Malcolm Elliott used to use for intervals.

Next came the quietest part of the route, and the bit that best highlights Sheffield’s close proximity to nature. Still within the city’s boundary, when I looked left I saw buildings glistening below, but when I looked right my vision was filled with the green hills of the Peak District. Skirting the edge of the National Park, I headed to the affluent areas of Dore and Totley – a stark contrast to the grimy streets of earlier in the day. Riding up Devonshire Road, past the mansions with their manicured gardens, felt more Beverly Hills than Sheffield hills.

By now the legs were a little sore and made worse by Twentywell – ‘Twentyhell’, as it’s known – Lane, but the end was within sight. I was racing through the final 10 climbs and not holding back anymore, as there was now nothing to lose, treating each one like a short interval. Before I knew it there was just one left: Botanical Road.

Cresting that final climb, having ridden just shy of 99 miles, my legs turned to jelly. What a relief – the satisfaction of a mission accomplished – and what a day. All that planning, the sleepless nights turning the route over in my mind, had been worth it, executed to perfection. Never had there been a moment to lose my head or get bored, such was the concentration needed to follow the script.

If anyone ever tells you there are seven hills in Sheffield, or even eight, tell them they are way off the mark. There are thousands, and this ride climbed just 100 of them. Now I’m wondering: which city’s topographical myth should I rewrite next?

My first Northern Hemisphere Rapha Festive 500 was a disaster. It wasn’t so much the wet roads but the wind chill that wreaked havoc with my hands and feet - this was something I’d never experienced, having completed several Festive 500s in Cape Town. In fact, apart from some kamikaze drivers, the only elemental issue I ever faced in South Africa was the wind. It’s safe to say my first Freezing 500 was a shock to the system, forcing me to rethink the whole concept and devise a strategy to get through it without turning to Zwift.

There’s nothing wrong with attempting it on Zwift - especially if you live in a country where snow and severe temperatures mean completing it outside is dangerous. But if you live in the UK or northern Europe, there's no excuse not to ride it outside - all you need is some motivation and solid planning. While there's been plenty of Festive 500 backlash from some cyclists in recent years, with wasted family time and the idea of suffering over Christmas emerging as the leading issues, my wife and I have always completed the Rapha Festive 500 together.

Our love for the event stems from the challenge it posed when we first started cycling in 2013, and ever since then, it’s become a tradition for us - a pseudo training camp and something we look forward to every year, even living here in the UK.

The Festive 500 is not easy, even if you happen to live in the Southern Hemisphere, where the weather is warmer - it still requires commitment and thorough planning. This year marks my 10th Festive 500, and to help you complete your first Festive 500 outdoors, I’ve compiled a checklist of tips and tricks.

Plan your Festive 500 route - carefully

While 500km might sound daunting, if you do the maths, this translates to 62.5km every day for eight days, and that’s if you don’t take any rest days. I start every Festive 500 with the same mindset: a new route each day, split into two or three parts, with planned coffee breaks. I've found - especially when riding with others - that having small target goals helps break up the monotony and gives the group something to aim for, as it’s easier to process small chunks than one big ride with no stops.

Day one is always the ‘long day’ as I never ride on Christmas Day itself. By getting a chunk in on day one (usually between 100-120km), I can offset the balance to something still easily achievable. It’s also worth studying the long-term weather forecast and planning for all eventualities.

Thankfully, for the five Festive 500s I've completed in the UK, the weather has never really been truly foul - just cold and sometimes wet. I understand I'm due for a wet one at some point, but it very seldom rains on consecutive days in December in the Surrey Hills, and the rain is usually localised, so there’s always a good chance it's dry 10km down the road.

Top tip: Have a backup route for each day. If it’s raining and you’re not keen on starting the day, it’s worth doing a small loop to keep chipping away at the miles. As I mentioned before, heading north or south might enable you to bank some miles without getting wet or too cold.

Top tip: Plan a coffee stop or three. This helps with morale and gives the group motivation. Obviously this is more difficult on Christmas Day and Boxing Day, but there's always somewhere open.

Invest in some deep winter cycling clothing

Southern Hemisphere winter cycling clothing isn’t on the same level as what you will find here in the UK. When I first arrived in the UK in 2019, I did many a ride underdressed, and I suffered tremendously with cold ears, hands, and feet.

My first port of call was purchasing a pair of the best winter bib tights - this does not exist in South Africa. The closest you get to this is leg warmers, and even those are hard to find. Bib tights were a game-changer for me. Next up were a breathable base layer, one of the best winter cycling jackets, a headscarf, ear warmers, and deep winter cycling gloves.

While these additions have made a world of difference to on-bike comfort, as a very lean chap, I still run on the cold side, and my hands and feet still suffer. To counter this, I've invested in thicker socks and glove liners, which have helped.

Top tip: Always carry a packable rain jacket you can store in your pocket.

Ride it in a group or with friends

Of all my Festive 500s, I think I’ve only done one alone, and that was a pretty miserable one, to be honest. It was back in 2020, during Covid, and the Festive feeling was down across the board; most people were riding indoors or not at all. This was also the first year Rapha added a virtual option in which indoor miles on a smart indoor trainer counted toward the challenge, and it has been part of the F500 ever since.

While I’m not an advocate for using Zwift to complete the Festive 500 - the miles come quicker and have made it an easier exercise - I still appreciate riders staying active and achieving their goals, so I still encourage those who can’t attempt it outdoors for whatever reason.

The best thing about the Festive 500 is the season's festivity and riding with mates. As I mentioned before, it’s something I do with my wife, and we both enjoy the time together and the challenge of getting through it in the worst conditions imaginable. This year, we’re doing it with friends and riding it as a group, which is going to be real fun - I love this time of the year as there's no pressure to train for races. It’s just about enjoying the bike, talking rubbish, laughing, and attacking each other for the town sign sprint.

Not only does riding in a group help the miles tick by fairly quickly, you can share the load and work across the challenge.

Pro tip: Mudguards keep the vibes high and everybody clean when the roads are wet or muddy.

Make Christmas a rest day

Whether you’re a Christian or not, Christmas is one of the most special days of the year as it brings family together - the day should be spent with your loved ones. Of course, that could also mean a short ride with your partner or children, but I find it the ideal time in the challenge to take a day off the bike.

While adding a rest day will put extra mileage stress on the balance of the Festive 500, I always get a big one in on day one to ensure I keep the mileage ticking over - and by big I mean 100-120km. If you do manage to get in 120km on day one, you’ll need to cover 63km every day for the next six days.

Historically, I don’t keep to a regimental minimum daily mileage output but rather ensure my final day is an easy coffee ride, so I would suggest doing a few bigger ones to ensure day eight is short, easy, and fun - perhaps culminating in a mountain bike or gravel excursion.

Top tip: Make day one the biggest mileage day of the challenge so there's less pressure to finish the Festive 500 if you take a rest day.

Don’t ignore bike maintenance

Bike maintenance is a big one and something you shouldn’t ignore - especially over a wet Festive 500. During this time of year, roads will likely be gritted in preparation for possible snow and ice, and salt can corrode your bolts and spoke nipples.

I always recommend cleaning your bike, either with a hose or with a bicycle-specific Karcher or Muc-Off Pressure Washer, avoiding all bearings (wheels, bottom bracket, and headset), and applying Muc-Off Bike Protection or a water-repellent spray to these sensitive areas, then relubing your chain. Failure to do so can result in trouble down the line - worn chains and sprockets and a corroded BB and headset.

Pro tip: Hose your bike down immediately after your ride, lightly wash it, and lube your chain.

Be humble. Encourage

It’s easy to get overexcited and carried away with your progress. Some riders complete the entire Festive 500 challenge in a few days, while others prefer to spread it over the full eight days. It’s worth being sensitive to those around you and encouraging riders to keep chipping away - it’s all about building confidence and ensuring more people stay on bicycles.

The Festive 500 is as much about spending time with your mates and family on the bike as it is about overcoming the challenge. If someone is struggling, motivate them. If you encounter a rider with a puncture or mechanical issue, stop and offer assistance. The Festive 500 is not about your average speed and who finishes the fastest; it’s about enjoying the vibes that made you fall in love with the sport in the first place.

Pro tip: Carry a spare tube (or two) and some tools. Not only will this help prevent the Uber call of shame, but it will also equip you to help a cyclist in need of a roadside fix.

It’s nearly six years since that cold January morning when I wandered downstairs, glanced up from the headlines and murmured to my mum, “This could be really quite bad, couldn’t it?” Over the next two years, my naive worry was more than borne out. With lockdowns, masks and social distancing, Covid-19 turned the world on its head; most of us ended up catching the virus, and a significant minority, me included, are still feeling the effects – on our cycling and on our lives.

Come spring 2022, I thought I’d dodged the worst of it. I was into my second year racing for Zappi Racing Team – a traditional yet brilliant setup for those aiming to turn pro via U23 Italian racing and UCI events. My ambition was to start the Baby Giro (now called the Giro Next Gen). In truth, I wasn’t good enough to make it to the next level. Competing in the best races an under-23 can do, I was receiving a royal head-kicking every time. But training hundreds of kilometres a week and attempting to follow the pace of Juan Ayuso, Michel Hessman or Mason Hollyman, to name a few, does wonders for one’s fitness, even if it is rather painful. But then it happened: I caught Covid-19.

At first the symptoms seemed really mild. That said, my ego took a hit when my resting heart rate, usually a boast-worthy 47bpm, rose to around 80bpm for a few days, while a moderate fever left me shivering in the Italian spring. There was no dramatic cough, no bed rest – it was, at worst, a minor setback. Or so I thought as I strove to do the sensible thing: two weeks off, before easing back with endurance rides. Which is where my real problems began.

Training volume that was once mere background noise now left me with swollen glands and a tiredness I can only describe as like disembarking an overnight long-haul flight. Much of the following three months were spent with my eyes shut, sleeping 12 hours a night, sometimes more. I was living in a fishbowl of foggy, jet-laggy fatigue. When I did manage a ride, I encountered the strangest symptom of all, one that still holds me back today. I call it my ‘rev limiter’. I was OK at tempo, but the moment I nudged above it – anything approaching Zone 4 – my chest tightened, my heart rate spiked and for 15 minutes refused to subside, and I tasted a metallic tang in my mouth, like bleeding gums after a sprint. It wasn’t lactic. It was like driving a Lamborghini around a city centre: craving 6,000rpm but pinned at 2,000rpm. Racing my bike had become a pipe dream.

The racing chapter closes

I’d love to tell you I handled this like a grown-up and paced my recovery. In reality, I did what most athletes do when the body bounces cheques it used to cash with ease: I argued with it. I tried to nudge, then negotiate, then out-stubborn biology. I cycled round the NHS getting blood tests (all normal, bar low potassium), took time out from racing, cut down riding, cut it out entirely, and discovered that pride is a surprisingly heavy thing to carry when you’re already crawling.

Three years on from the worst of it, the racing chapter is now closed. The rev-limiter hangover from Covid-19 means I still couldn’t race if I wanted to. This isn’t a tragedy, nor a misery memoir about how Long Covid stopped me winning the Tour. I have had time to reflect, reframe the importance of cycling in my life – for fun, not a livelihood – but nonetheless I’m eager to understand what Long Covid is and its consequences on my health and that of thousands of cyclists like me.

What exactly is Long Covid?

Dr Ben Sinclair, founder of Dr Finlay’s Private Practice (drfinlays.co.uk), developed one of the UK’s first private Long Covid clinics, in part because he had experienced the condition himself. The first thing I wanted clarity on was, quite simply, what is Long Covid? “In essence, Long Covid is post-viral symptoms lasting longer than 12 weeks,” he explained, “though the definition isn’t clear-cut. There is no agreed diagnostic criteria, but essentially this is a long-lasting condition after a suspected or confirmed viral Covid infection. The common effects are fatigue, brain fog, and post-exertion malaise, among others.” Research suggests that around 10-15% of people who catch Covid-19 go on to develop long-lasting symptoms. Though the risk increases with severity of the initial infection, even mild or asymptomatic cases may lead to Long Covid. A Nature Medicine review estimated that more than 400 million people have been affected since the pandemic, with an economic hit of almost $1 trillion a year.

In terms of the causes, scientists have identified possible mechanisms including blood-vessel damage and micro-clotting, persistent viral fragments, immune system dysregulation and nervous system disruption – but there is no reliable test or means of diagnosis. For cyclists, me included, this lack of certainty presents myriad difficulties. One thing I do know is this: if you find yourself struck down with Long Covid, a form of post-viral fatigue, you absolutely must listen to your body. For those of us whose athletic progress often relies on us ignoring our body’s cries for mercy, that can be very challenging.

Sinclair’s story closely mirrors my own: months of excessive sleep, followed by a slow climb back. Having worked with countless Long Covid patients, he is almost uniquely well informed. “We’re looking for the silver bullet. We haven’t found it yet, but we have found particular things that can help.” Those “particular things” are not flashy therapies or cutting-edge medicine, but fundamentals of good health. Sinclair advises on ways to repair the gut biome (post-viral shifts can deplete protective bacteria), boosting vitamin D back into the healthy range, and balancing nervous-system stress. None of which is very exciting – but Sinclair insists that it works.

As for my strange ‘revlimiter’ chest symptoms, science offers some clues but can’t yet fully explain it. “We think that in some people, the virus persists, or byproducts from it cause inflammation of blood vessels and possibly microclotting,” says Sinclair, “meaning you have miniature blood clots flying around your system. Research has demonstrated that this is part of the problem.”

Endurance wipe-out

Another cyclist who has been affected by Long Covid is the 2016 Trans Continental Race winner Emily Chappell. “I got Covid in the summer of 2022 while leading the Le Loop,” she says – the annual ride that traces the Tour de France route ahead of the pros. “Every day one or two riders dropped out with Covid. Eventually I woke up with symptoms. I didn’t test positive, but it was 90% certain.” The timing – and the pressure – couldn’t have been worse. “It was my job. I felt I needed to be there. So I carried on riding 200km a day over mountains. In hindsight, it was a really bad idea.”

Afterwards came exhaustion, breathlessness and confusion. “At first you just think, ‘bad day, try again tomorrow.’ But I wasn’t bouncing back. I’d always thought the solution to feeling tired was to get on the bike – and suddenly that just made things worse.” Progress was halting; recovery nonlinear. “I’d improve, then relapse. The symptoms, tiredness and breathlessness, are identical to being unfit, so you feel guilty and try harder. The athlete’s mentality – don’t give up, push through – is completely wrong for this.”

A Long Covid clinic helped Chappell reframe things. “The biggest shift has been psychological. I’ve had to accept that sometimes trying hard makes me worse. That’s been huge – rewriting a lifetime’s approach.” There are still ups and downs, but she’s cautiously hopeful. “I do a little exercise every day, no big binges. I’m optimistic I’m on a gradual upward slope. But I’ve had to learn patience. And grief. And that slowing down doesn’t mean giving up – it just means living differently.”

Chappell regrets that she ignored her initial symptoms and tried to power on through. Sinclair admits to making similar mistakes. “I fell into this trap myself trying to go back to exercise far too soon, far too intensely every time. But I learned the lessons because it laid me up in bed for days afterwards. So we have this post-exertional malaise which occurs if we are not up to the task.” Listening to Chappell’s and Sinclair’s stories, I winced – I’ve been that idiot too. If you’re used to stacking 30-hour weeks, it’s hard to accept that a dog walk and a trip to the post office is your new Alpe d’Huez.

So what should we have done to minimise the risks? “Firstly, never train with a fever,” says Sinclair. “I use heart rate as a barometer in terms of training safety, and I’d recommend not pushing your heart rate above about 130bpm while you’re still feeling fatigued.” He urges athletes to follow the ‘graduated return to play’ protocol after any viral infection (see box). I wish I’d been more cautious three years ago. The body takes time to react, and in the meantime you can do quite a lot of damage, as I found out. “Restorative deep sleep is another one of the most important things we can do as well,” adds Sinclair.

From blokey bravado to real-world reckoning

Like a typical 21-year-old bloke, I was somewhat allergic to early nights. I wanted to believe that I could burn the candle at both ends. But the day I stopped treating sleep like an optional upgrade, everything else got 20%, maybe even 30% easier. I also cut my alcohol intake to almost nil. And then there’s the head-stuff – the bit we don’t always talk about. I wish I could say I was zen about scaling down my riding. In reality, I had the classic athlete interior monologue – “don’t be a wuss, suck it up, it’s not that bad” – but this bravado proved costly, triggering multiple setbacks.

Though the Long Covid learning curve has been brutal, this is also where my story takes a brighter turn. Stripping away the ego – the data, the race calendar, the constant comparisons – has let me rediscover the simple pleasure of riding my bike. These days I take it steady, choose different goals, and rarely leave home without planning a coffee stop and a hefty slice of cake. It’s not the life I imagined, but it’s a good one. Covid forced me to rethink what riding meant to me, and in a strange way, I’m very thankful. It has taught me to respect my body and to value the good days rather than chase the perfect ones. If you’re going through long Covid, be patient and kind with yourself, even when every instinct urges you to keep pushing.

RETURNING TO PLAY: TAKE IT SLOWLY

If you’ve had Covid-19 and are returning to cycling, follow this step-wise ‘return to play’ protocol.

Rest and symptom-free baseline
Wait at least 10 days from symptom onset and be seven days symptom-free before beginning structured activity, as follows.

Stage 1: Light aerobic – no higher for at least 10 days
15-30min of easy cycling (<50% of maximal HR) on flat terrain. Monitor for undue fatigue, chest pain, palpitations. If clear after 24-48hr, move on.

Stage 2: Moderate aerobic – no higher for at least two days
30-60min at 50-70% HRmax, some hills allowed. Avoid competition or high-intensity efforts. Monitor closely.

Stage 3: Heavy aerobic – no higher for at least two days
45–60 min, including hills and moderate efforts (70–80% HRmax), plus bike-handling drills. Still no sprints or maximal efforts.

Stage 4: Ease back into normal training – no higher for at least two days
Full training sessions, including interval work up to 85% HRmax. Introduce race simulation if symptom-free for 48-72hr.

Stage 5: Return to competition – day 17 at the earliest
Full training and racing resume only if all preceding stages passed without symptoms.

Key rule: Returning to exercise should only be done after consulting with your doctor. If symptoms (fatigue, breathlessness, chest tightness) recur within 24-48 hours, step back one stage and rest. Progress only when stable and listen to your body – this is not the time for ego.

This feature was originally published in the 13 November 2025 print edition of Cycling Weekly magazine – available to buy on the newsstand every Thursday (UK only) while digital versions are available on Apple News and Readly. Subscriptions through Magazine's Direct.

I peered dubiously at the plastic disc in my hand, with its little needle protruding from the centre. I have no major beef with needles, but this was different – I had to somehow find the gumption to press it in, all the way, and leave it there.

The disc was a CGM biosensor (CGM meaning continuous glucose monitor), and once stuck on the skin, it would transmit real-time blood-glucose levels to an app on my phone. All very Buck Rogers.

It had been sent to me by Lingo, a CGM brand produced by UK medical device company Abbott, to try out for a month. Beyond actually getting the thing applied (which we'll get to in a moment), I was looking forward to taking a look under the bonnet in a way that few people beyond your GP get to see.

CGMs are popular with diabetics, for whom blood sugar monitoring is absolutely vital. There is some debate over exactly how much benefit they can offer a healthy individual for training and exercise, but some swear by them.

Ultra-distance nutritionist Jill Mooney for example, who has appeared regularly in Cycling Weekly and the Going Long podcast, is a big fan of their use in ultra training and events.

As for me, a perennial surfeit of adipose tissue (let's just say it out loud – I'm overweight) meant I had extra skin in the game, and I was interested in whether real-time glucose monitoring might help me eat sensibly.

Pain-free gains

Applying the biosensor was, in the event, completely painless. The accompanying applicator that Lingo supplies certainly helped expedite the process (not to mention the fact that, unbeknownst to me, it was spring loaded). Once stuck on, the sensor began transmitting via Bluetooth and in a short while the data began appearing on the app.

Seeing the inner workings of your body appearing, in real time, on a line graph in front of you is quite impressive. Anyone who has ever used a heart-rate monitor will be familiar with it, of course, but this is a little different in that the actual content of your blood is being examined. It's not like a pulse, which you can take by placing a couple of fingers on your wrist.

The Lingo app is easy to use and easy to read, and allows the user to add 'events' throughout the day, such as bouts of exercise and meals, which are then used to annotate a rolling glucose line graph which continues 24/7.

Each biosensor lasts two weeks before it stops transmitting – I was initially sent two. Enough, I hoped, to give a little insight into my body and exactly what it made of that second beer or that doorstep sandwich, and of course how the healthier parts of my diet were affecting it.

No drama

As a fully signed-up member of hypochondriacs anonymous, when the initial figures came through I was gratified to note that there was no apparent need to head immediately to A&E. I studied the little line for a while as it… did not very much at all. I watched it meander across the screen with an almost disappointing lack of drama before putting the phone down and getting on with some work.

It will come as no surprise that snacks, meals, exercise, all affect blood glucose (sugar) levels. We're constantly being told to avoid sugar spikes and associated crashes by choosing foods that are lower on the glycaemic index, or perhaps to pair sugary foods with fats or protein to reduce the spike, or to take a short walk after a meal to help reduce boost glucose control.

According to ZOE, co-founded by preeminent nutritional scientist Tim Spector, repeated large glucose spikes can be inflammatory and put heart health in jeopardy. Blood sugar that is consistently too high can also ultimately lead to diabetes, as the body becomes slowly less efficient at responding to it. There's no doubt that blood sugar matters.

It isn't only diet that affects blood sugar. Exercise, as you might expect, also plays a part. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself even as I was pulling on my cycling kit for my first bout of Lingo-assisted Zwifting, imagining the line on the graph falling to baseline levels that could only indicate some sort of mega-healthiness.

Imagine my surprise when it did no such thing; instead, it began rising steadily, staying within healthy range but only beginning to tail off once I'd stopped. It didn't take much Googling (plus a little common sense) to realise that, of course, the muscles need glucose when they're being tasked with exercise, and it is delivered via the blood. Despite the temporary spike, exercise leaves the body with long-term glucose-control benefits that are great for health, and is most definitely a good thing.

Once I'd realised that my body seemed to respond in a generally healthy way to both diet and exercise, it felt like the job of the CGM had largely been done. The only thing left to do was to refine my food choices and smooth out the spikes that did exist. I learned that much of my standard diet left the CGM with little to shout at me about, although perhaps a breakfast of Greek yoghurt and berries was slightly better than a bowl of low sugar muesli.

Call of the cake tin

However, when things went a bit sideways and the call of the cake tin proved more powerful than my own will, the line on the chart reacted with a predictably sharp upward spike. As such, wearing the CGM and being linked up to the app had the effect of making me eat more carefully during the time I was wearing it. No bad thing.

It's worth pointing out that CGMs may not be perfectly accurate. A 2025 study by the University of Bath found that they tended to read higher than fingerprick blood tests, which are still deemed to be the gold standard, and could lead to unnecessary or poor dietary changes in healthy individuals. However, the study still rated CGMs as "fantastic tools for people with diabetes".

The Lingo CGM comes at a cost, of course, and in the realm of CGMs it's very reasonable – you can buy the biosensors for as little as £48 per two weeks if you sign up for a 12-week bundle. A one-off purchase will cost £59. A pair costs £99.

Would I spend my own money to sign up again? Not right away, but I could definitely imagine investing for, perhaps, a month a year. £99 doesn't get you much in cycling (or anything else) these days, and for a potential annual health boost it sounds like remarkably good value.

When Sir Chris Hoy revealed that he had been diagnosed with stage-four prostate cancer in September 2023, aged just 47, the shockwaves reached far beyond the velodrome. Here was Britain’s most decorated Olympian – the embodiment of supreme fitness – confronting a killer disease that affects one in eight men in the UK. “I didn’t think about what the potential outcomes of going public with my diagnosis might be,” says Hoy, “but [since then] I’ve heard from people who have gone and had a PSA test off the back of my diagnosis – despite having had no symptoms – and been diagnosed, catching it early enough to treat and cure it.”

Now, two years on, Hoy has expressed "disappointment and sadness" at the UK National Screening Committee's recommending against a nationwide prostate cancer screening programme except for men between the ages of 45 and 61 who have specific genetic mutations. The experts advised that wider screening would "likely to cause more harm than good". Drawing on his own experience, Hoy said: “I know first-hand that by sharing my story following my own diagnosis two years ago, many, many lives have been saved. Early screening and diagnosis saves lives. I am determined to continue to use my platform to raise awareness, encourage open discussion, raise vital funds for further research and support, and to campaign for change.”

Hoy’s decision to go public with his terminal diagnosis has had a remarkable impact. According to Prostate Cancer UK, in the two months following his announcement, 286,000 men checked their prostate cancer risk online, and 38,000 of them indicated a family history of the disease. For a condition that often develops silently, that surge in awareness is likely to translate into lives saved. For many cyclists, the news raised uneasy questions. Could years in the saddle somehow increase the risk of prostate problems? Or is that just another piece of cycling mythology? To separate myth from medicine, Cycling Weekly speaks to leading experts and an amateur rider for whom Hoy’s story powerfully struck a chord.

Shock diagnosis

When Northern Irish cyclist Michael Currid, now 71, went for a routine blood test in his early 60s, he had no idea it would uncover an aggressive prostate tumour. “I had no symptoms,” he says. “Maybe a bit of a slow flow when I went for a pee, but nothing that worried me. I was going for some tests and my wife told me, ‘Get a PSA test while you’re at it.’ A friend of ours had been diagnosed with prostate cancer and it was at the front of her mind. That advice probably saved my life.” Currid was already fit and active, having taken up cycling at 60 after years in motorsport. “I joined the local Bann Wheelers Cycling Club in Coleraine, and loved it,” he says. “Two years later I was riding in the Alps for the first time, climbing all day and loving every minute. I was probably the oldest in the group, but I kept up fine.” It was only after returning home from an overseas riding trip that he noticed a dip in energy. “Towards the end of the season, I just felt a bit weak on our Thursday rides,” he recalls. “So I thought I’d better get checked.”

Currid’s prostate-specific antigen (PSA) level came back slightly raised. Further tests confirmed an aggressive tumour. “When the doctor said, ‘You’re going to need surgery,’ it hit me – this is serious.” With no specialist robotic surgery available in Northern Ireland at the time, Currid travelled to Addenbrooke’s Hospital in Cambridge.

“They told me being a cyclist would help with recovery,” he says. “I had the operation on 31 May 2017, and four weeks later I was back on the bike. Probably too soon – but that’s cyclists for you!” He decided against chemotherapy or radiotherapy. “The surgeon said he couldn’t guarantee clean margins because the cancer had broken out slightly, but he thought he’d managed to get it all,” he says. “I decided to wait and see. Eight years on, my PSA is thankfully still undetectable.” Cycling, says Currid, played a crucial role both physically and mentally. “It gave me something to focus on. If I hadn’t been riding, I probably wouldn’t be here today,” he says. “Cycling is the best pill you can take.”

Ride without fear

It’s easy to see how myths around cycling and prostate health take hold. Hours in the saddle can cause numbness, perineal pressure, or discomfort in the vicinity of the prostate. But that doesn’t mean cycling causes prostate cancer. “There’s no evidence of a direct causal link,” says Mr Chris Ogden, a prostate surgeon at the Princess Grace Hospital, part of private hospital group HCA Healthcare UK. “The so-called ‘PSA jump theory’ – the idea that cycling raises PSA levels and leads to false alarms – has also been disproved. A large study from Greece involving around 8,400 cyclists found no higher incidence of prostate cancer overall compared with the general population.”

While the Greek study did show a slightly higher rate among high-mileage cyclists compared to weekend riders, in Ogden’s view this is because cyclists tend to be fitter and more proactive about health screening. “Fit men are more likely to get tested and therefore diagnosed earlier. It’s not cause and effect, it’s association.” He adds that exercise is overwhelmingly protective. “Even in men with advanced prostate cancer, regular physical activity is beneficial. It reduces free radicals and oxidative stress, which helps slow disease progression. The idea that ‘bashing the prostate on a saddle’ causes cancer just isn’t supported by science.”

The saddle myth busted

Lisa Hilder is a prostate cancer specialist nurse with more than two decades of experience. “There’s no strong evidence linking cycling to prostate cancer,” she agrees with Ogden’s assessment. “At most, it can temporarily affect PSA levels.” (A short-term rise in PSA in the hours after exercise isn’t uncommon, as vigorous activity can release more PSA into the blood). “That’s why we suggest men avoid cycling for a few hours before a PSA blood test,” adds Hilder. Mild pelvic discomfort after long rides, she adds, is common and usually harmless. “If you’re getting pressure or numbness, it’s more likely due to your saddle set-up than your prostate. Check that your saddle supports your sit bones rather than pressing into your perineum. Modern saddles with central cut-outs or more flexible designs can make a big difference.”

Ogden similarly suspects that saddle shape has contributed to false fears around health risks. “My father was a GP and used to talk about ‘sensible saddles’ – the wider ones that take weight off the perineum. Some racing saddles focus all the pressure in the wrong area. If you’re getting symptoms, look at your set-up, but don’t panic.” While there’s no reason to fear even narrow, race-type saddles, men do need to pay attention to risk factors – and that means looking beyond cycling.

Risk factors

“The biggest risk factor is age,” says Hilder. “Men over 50 are most at risk, and if a close relative – a father, brother or uncle – has had prostate cancer, your risk is higher.” For white men, the lifetime risk is around one in eight. For Black men, it’s one in four. “Those are stark statistics.”

Your chance of getting prostate cancer may be even greater if your relatives were under 60 when they were diagnosed. Ogden points out that family history on the mother’s side can be relevant too. “If your mother or sisters have had breast or ovarian cancer, particularly linked to BRCA gene mutations, your own prostate cancer risk goes up,” he adds. “That’s something a lot of men don’t realise. It’s not just your father’s health history that matters.”

Prostate Cancer UK has long campaigned to improve testing accuracy and accessibility for men at risk of the disease. The charity’s Transform trial, announced in 2023, is a long-term study exploring the most effective combination of PSA tests, fast MRI scans, and genetic screening to detect prostate cancer earlier and more accurately. “The challenge has always been finding a way to detect prostate cancer early without overdiagnosing or overtreating men who don’t need intervention,” says Hilder. “The new generation of multiparametric MRI scans has been a game-changer – they’re much more accurate, so fewer men need unnecessary biopsies.”

Ogden agrees: “The European screening trial published recently showed a 13% reduction in mortality. That’s significant. It means prostate screening is comparable to breast and bowel screening. The next step will be national adoption, but we have to balance early detection with avoiding overdiagnosis or unnecessary anxiety.” Both experts believe targeted screening – focusing on men at higher risk due to family history or ethnicity – is the most efficient approach for now. “Men over 50 should talk to their GP about a PSA test,” says Hilder, “and if you’re at higher risk, start at 45. The test is quick, simple and free on the NHS.”

Be proactive

One common barrier to men getting tested has been fear or embarrassment about the traditional digital rectal examination (DRE). That barrier is now largely gone. “The rectal exam is no longer routinely required to diagnose prostate cancer,” says Hilder. “It’s mainly used to assess prostate size for men with urinary symptoms. For cancer risk assessment, a PSA test and, if needed, an MRI are far more informative. Men can rest assured that they can speak to their GP without worrying about that.” The implication is clear: don’t die of embarrassment.

In many cases, early-stage prostate cancer has no symptoms, which is why risk awareness is so crucial. When symptoms do occur – weak urine flow, increased frequency, or difficulty emptying the bladder – they’re more often related to an enlarged prostate than to cancer. “If you notice any changes, don’t ignore them,” says Hilder. “But remember, most prostate cancers are picked up through proactive checks rather than symptoms. The earlier it’s found, the easier it is to treat.”

Where does that leave cyclists? In a strong position, according to the experts. “Cyclists are often fitter, leaner, and more aware of their health – all of which are protective factors,” says Ogden. “Moderate exercise is good for the prostate and for general health. The only caveat is that extreme endurance training can, in rare cases, suppress the immune system – but for 99% of riders, cycling is a huge positive.” Staying active, according to the experts, helps with everything from maintaining a healthy weight to improving recovery after surgery or treatment.

Michael Currid is convinced that his passion for cycling is part of the reason he’s recovered so well. Far from slowing down, Currid has gone on to become a decorated racer in the over-70 category. “For my 70th, I thought, what will I do? So I entered the Gaelforce cycling event in Galloway [in Scotland]. On the back of that, I qualified for the world finals in Denmark. In the past year, I won three Ulster Championship medals, a gold, silver and bronze, and I won the 70s category in the Ernie Magwood Super Six time trial series.” Currid has helped raise more than £35,000 for Prostate Cancer UK through rides and raffles with his club Bann Wheelers Cycling Club. “If my story gets one man tested, that’s all that matters,” he says. “Far too many men wait for symptoms, and by then it can be too late. The PSA test isn’t perfect, but it’s the best thing we’ve got. If I hadn’t had that test, I wouldn’t be talking to you today.”

Thanks to the PHA Group for facilitating our interview with Mr Chris Ogden. (thephagroup.com)

CW gets tested

Reminded of a family history of the deadly disease, CW’s senior editor David Bradford takes the test.

Prostate cancer is the most common cancer in men: one in eight of us will be diagnosed with it. A family history of the disease raises the risk even higher. If one or more first-degree relatives (father, brother or son) have had prostate cancer, your risk can be raised from about 12% to 30% or even higher. These men are advised to take a yearly PSA test from age 45.

Editing this feature reminded me that two second-degree relatives (my paternal grandfather and uncle) died from the disease, which raises my risk to about 20%. Those with a raised risk – check yours via prostatecanceruk.org – can get a free annual PSA test on the NHS. Being just below the age threshold, at 43, I decided to order one via Medichecks (medichecks. com), and reassuringly the result came back within normal range. Still, it underlined the importance of getting into the habit of annual testing.

According to prostate cancer specialist Chris Ogden, all men should take a yearly PSA test from age 50. The case against PSA testing – and why there is no nationwide testing programme – revolves around the risk of false positives and unnecessary biopsies. However, these days most men found to have a raised PSA level then have an MRI scan, and only have a biopsy if it’s deemed necessary.

Red flags and how to check your risk

You can check your risk of prostate cancer in just 30 seconds at prostatecanceruk.org/risk-checker.

Key prostate problem warning signs to look out for:

● Difficulty starting or stopping urination

● Weak or interrupted urine flow

● Needing to urinate more often, especially at night

● Blood in urine or semen

● Pain or discomfort in the lower back, hips, or pelvis

● Erectile difficulties or unexplained fatigue

Note: These symptoms don’t always mean cancer – they can also be caused by benign prostate enlargement or infection – but they should always be checked by a GP.

This feature was originally published in the 27 November 2025 print edition of Cycling Weekly magazine – available to buy on the newsstand every Thursday (UK only) while digital versions are available on Apple News and Readly. Subscriptions through Magazine's Direct.

The new Factor ONE has a striking aero design but comes with some pretty unconventional geometry, including a longer wheelbase and forward mounting position for the handlebars, ahead of the steering axis.

At the launch, Factor's Director of Engineering, Graham Strive, spoke of "changing rider demands". Factor's approach to the geometry on the new bike, which offers a seat angle of some 76 degrees, and a further forward steering position, is a direct result of the WorldTour peloton requesting longer stems.

Factor says the issue with the "race to the front", is that as stem lengths increase a rider’s weight is pushed further over the front wheel. According to the brand, this has resulted in more crashes. To counteract this, the Factor ONE uses a longer wheelbase to put the front wheel further in front, a longer top tube (around 2cm) and a lower bottom bracket.

Riders are able to fundamentally change a bike's stability with things like longer stems, but with such a gulf between levels of bike handling skills from the front to the back of the peloton, should they be allowed to adjust as they see fit?

I've thought for years that the average cyclist, indeed, many people in the industry, still doesn't really understand front-end stability. And now we’ve heard this theory from a big brand too.

Tony Foale, a brilliant motorcycling engineer, has principles which explain or rebut almost every questionable trend we currently see in pro bike fit. I think long stems and slammed-forward saddles are far more likely to be causing the kind of pile ups we see in the pro peloton, than the overly narrow bars, or deeper section wheel rims, which have been the target of recent UCI regulations.

The forgotten fundamentals of handling

Two-wheeled vehicles – whether a motorcycle or bicycle – obey the same principles. Just because my trusty Honda Fireblade has 130bhp on tap and the other bike, my road bike, has my somewhat sub-prime legs to do the drive, does not mean the physics get up and leave the room.

Foale’s work is useful here, as it tells us that stability is governed by:

- The position of the combined rider-bike centre of mass (CoM)

- Steering geometry (trail, rake, wheelbase, etc)

- The mass distribution over each wheel

- The inertias of the steering assembly

Notice what’s not in that list: stiffness, weight or aerodynamics, although good steering does rely on a measure of stiffness. Despite this, bicycle fitting in pro cycling for the past few years has shown a sort of collective disregard for these basics.

Instead, they’ve been traded off for other desirable characteristics such as aero, or a sense of ‘feeling forward’, often leaving it to the individual rider to specify a stem they think feels about right. Or they might use a slammed-forward saddle which reaches halfway along the top tube.

Riders have always downsized frames, that’s not troubling. That’s been one way riders have increased the stiffness of a frame, or achieved a lower position, and it isn’t in and of itself problematic. In doing so, to make more room ‘in the bike’, stem length has crept up. Racier stems and positions therefore, tend to be associated with going longer.

But the place we’ve arrived at is stretching from sensible to comical. Combined with forward saddle positions, which ignore set-back, a whole generation of pro bikes now litter the paddocks with set ups that are theoretically fast, but handle worse.

You can't feel that in a wind tunnel. It’s instead, less measurable, and only felt in your wrists when descending at 90kph. While it might not be on graphs, it is seen in crashes and the techniques of some on descents.

The role of saddle set-back in weight distribution

What’s the problem? In bike design terms, pretty much everything starts at the bottom bracket. Set-back, stack and reach, front centre, rear centre, handlebar X and Y, are all measured from here. The position of the saddle relative to it is critical, that's the saddle set-back. I think it could be one of the most misunderstood measures in frame design and fit.

Foale teaches us that a rider’s mass relative to the contact patches of the tyres determines the stability envelope. Move the mass backward and the front wheel becomes lighter, move it forward and you sharpen the steering. Overdo this, and you sharpen it too much. This balancing act, to simplify matters somewhat, starts with saddle set-back and stem length.

A forward saddle and long stem can make your bike handling harder, or at least require that you’re very much better at using the machine.

If you looked at WorldTour bikes today, you’ll notice a large number of riders in an extreme, forward position. Increasingly, riders have taken to sliding the saddle all the way forward on its rails, on a zero or even positive set-back post. When paired up with much narrower bars, and a long, slammed stem, the rider's mass is in many cases is then precariously far forward, giving rise to significant instability in the steering.

It's not just fashion that's driving it. There’s a few perceived benefits too. A forward position opens up the hip angle, allowing more power generation. It also helps aero efficiency, getting the rider forward, and lower in the bike, and suits pro cycling’s obsession to “slam it, send it, suffer”, perhaps.

When you shift all the weight in the system forward, you load up your hands, and by shifting the system weight forward and on to the bars, you overload the fork and front wheel, and you reduce the margin for error, or correction, when cornering.

Practically, the bike can feel like it’s on a knife edge and for riders that expect a little focus in the handling of their race bike, or don't know any better, this can feel fast. But it can also be catastrophically unforgiving.

Some pros are athletes rather than bike handlers, and don’t have the same innate skill that others do. To keep them upright when riding under pressure or in close quarters, they need a comparatively more stable set up.

The trouble is, a glance around the paddock shows that often, they're the ones riding on the least stable set ups.

Slamming a stem is a pretty popular move. But, moving the bars out more on a longer stem, further ahead of the steering axis, moves more of the rider’s upper body weight (and CoM) further ahead of the headset.

This increases steering sensitivity. And introduces what Foale refers to as “parasitic input” - which basically means, the involuntary movements your torso, shoulders and arms make, can and do inadvertently become steering inputs. This gives rise to twitchy handling. It makes the bike feel nervous, because your mind and body is unable to filter out the unwanted motion.

Shift your weight further forward again, with a forward saddle position, and it gets even worse. You’re basically now trying to type on a keyboard whilst doing a handstand. You’ve made an otherwise relatively simple operation, very much harder.

Downhill performance isn't just a head game

Descending with confidence is rarely psychological alone. It’s biomechanical. Neurophysiological. Above all, mechanical. For better descenders, their CoM is so well positioned, and repositioned so dynamically, they can probably drift round bends if they want to.

Imagine a rider battling constant micro-instability in their front end because the fit loads the bars too heavily. Each corner then becomes a small act of faith. Eventually, that’s going to knock your confidence, and eventually it will crack. Imagine that happening in a bunch, or off the side of a mountain at 90kmph.

In cycling, we often blame the rider. They just need to worry less, or go faster. And that’s patently ridiculous. At the same time, the quest for aero at all costs, is leading to some very whack set ups, that Factor now publicly acknowledges is putting riders at higher risk of crashing.

We have to take this issue more seriously and at least perform some common sense checks. The riding experience is just much less forgiving than it was 10 or 15 years ago. And crashes reflect that.

What can be done to fix it?

Better fit, or tighter controls could help. The other aspect we could look into is the reframing of what it means to be confident on a bike.

As a bike journalist, you’d hope I can sense when a bicycle is looking after me, but a bike’s ability to hold a line effortlessly is often about fit or set-up. The way you feel you can adjust mid corner without upsetting traction, keeping the rear wheel in touch, or sense the way a front tyre feels loaded but not overwhelmed. This can all be down to set up, and can all give rise to confidence, for any rider.

And confidence isn’t just about bravery. It’s not even really about talent. It’s about stability. Stability can be designed in, or I think that’s what Tony Foale would say at least.

Outdoor riding gives you freedom, but indoor riding gives you efficiency. It’s great for uninterrupted workouts and removes concerns about weather, traffic, logistics and daylight. Yet it also brings its own set of aches: neck and hand fatigue that sets in early, knees that twinge sooner, saddle sores even if you usually don’t suffer from them and, of course, boredom.

Phil Burt sees this every winter. The former Head of Physiotherapy for British Cycling and longtime Team Sky consultant has spent decades solving the problems of some of the world’s best riders. From Bradley Wiggins, Chris Hoy, and Mark Cavendish to Richie Porte, Wout Poels, Ian Boswell and Mikel Landa — Burt has worked with them all, and then some.

But lately, he’s turned his attention to the unique demands of riding and racing indoors. The stationary, trainer-tethered kind, that is.

“Indoor cycling is different to outdoor cycling,” he says. “We have to start to recognise that.”

Cycling Weekly spoke with Burt to gather his best tips and hacks for optimising your indoor setup: how to minimise common aches and pains, how to adjust your position for maximum comfort (and power!) and what you can do today to set yourself up for your best winter of indoor riding yet.

1. Your indoor setup doesn’t need to match your outdoor setup

More cyclists are riding indoors than ever before. Whether it’s weather, safety concerns, time constraints or the rise of virtual racing, trainer sessions have shifted from being a winter fallback to the winter training norm (at least in colder regions of the world).

This shift has brought tremendous improvements in indoor riding technology, equipment and gear, but it has also sparked new debates. Chief among them: should your indoor bike fit match your outdoor fit?

Not that long ago, we simply schlepped our dirty bikes inside and plopped them onto a turbo trainer, or sacrificed our least-used bike to permanent trainer duty. Now, the landscape has changed with a growing product segment of indoor-specific bikes like the Wahoo KICKR Bike, Zwift Ride, Tacx NEO Bike and others.

And with them, the debate grows. Ask ten bike fitters whether your indoor bike should be set up the same as your outdoor bike and you’re likely to get two very different answers. When we’ve asked this question before, the responses split cleanly into two camps.

One camp insists your indoor and outdoor positions should be identical. Same saddle height, same setback, same bar drop. The logic: your body should learn one movement pattern, not two.

The other camp argues that one should treat indoor riding as its own discipline, with its own demands and its own optimal setup.

Burt sees arguments on both sides, yet for the average person he leans toward the second.

“You are not Mark Cavendish; your indoor setup doesn’t have to match your outdoor setup,” he says. “Indoor cycling is harder on the body because nothing moves. Set your bike up for the environment you’re actually riding in.”

Some cyclists tolerate almost any setup with minimal fuss, while others fall apart if their saddle height is off by two millimetres. Burt calls these two groups macro absorbers and micro adjusters. Macro absorbers can hop on just about any bike and pedal for hours without complaint. Their biomechanics are forgiving and their bodies absorb variation. Micro adjusters, on the other hand, feel everything. Like Princess and the Pea, their bodies magnify the smallest deviation, be it a slightly rotated cleat, a hint of saddle tilt or bars a shade too low.

Outdoors, both groups benefit from constant micro-adjustments: the bike shifts underneath you, pressure varies at the saddle, you stand, you coast, you stretch. Even without realising it, you’re continually resetting your position. Indoors, none of that happens.

Indoors, none of that happens. Everything is fixed in place, and whatever asymmetry or inefficiency you bring to the bike gets amplified. Therefore, Burt insists that indoor fit deserves its own logic and its own adjustments because the environment magnifies whatever is happening in your body; the setup has to compensate.

2. A fit that prioritises comfort — or power

Outdoor bike fits are always a bit of a balancing act between handling, comfort, terrain, efficiency and aerodynamics. Indoors, almost all of that falls away.

For most people, that means the priority should be simple: a comfortable, sustainable position you can hold for long periods. Indoors, Burt says, there’s no reason to cling to an aggressive road position if all it does is create tension and shorten your ride.

Consider a bike fit, even virtually, or make some small adjustments yourself.

“I would start by bringing the rider up a bit higher and closer at the front, open the diaphragm up… and take the crank length down. Maximise what you can do indoors,” he says.

Raising the front end slightly reduces strain on the neck and back; opening the diaphragm makes breathing easier; and small positional changes can dramatically improve comfort when the bike no longer moves beneath you.

For riders chasing every watt on Zwift or MyWhoosh, however, Burt takes an almost time-trial-esque approach. Not because of aerodynamics but because of biomechanics. Power production becomes the dominant goal. And power, he explains, is driven by the “engine room”: the interaction of saddle height, setback, tilt, hip angle and muscle engagement.

Fit-wise, this means sitting tall and forward, positioning your centre of mass directly over the bottom bracket. By opening the hip angle, assisted by shorter crank arms, you enable fuller hip extension, which in turn supports more sustainable, repeatable power production.

3. Short cranks aren’t just for Tadej

If you follow pro racing even casually, you’ve probably heard the buzz around Tadej Pogačar’s use of short crank arms. Once considered niche or eccentric, short cranks (i.e. 160mm vs 172.5mm) have become a kind of shorthand for “marginal gains," but Burt has been preaching their benefits for years; long before Pogačar turned them into a talking point.

And for indoor riding, Burt believes shorter cranks aren’t just a good idea, they’re worth a lot of free watts.

“Crank length is the volume button on asymmetry," he says. Indoors, in that fixed state where the body isn't dynamically adjusting, any imbalance gets amplified fast. Shorter cranks, Burt argues, reduce hip closure, reduce stress on the knees, and help stabilise the pelvis. And the payoff can be dramatic.

“I regularly add 20 to 30 watts to ordinary people just by changing their crank length," Burt says.

It sounds extraordinary, but the principle behind it is simple. Shorter cranks open the hip angle and bring the glutes directly over the bottom bracket, putting your strongest muscles in their strongest position to produce power.

“That’s when you get your glutes and hip extensors right over the bottom bracket, and it makes a massive difference to how easy it is to generate power," Burt explains.

Turns out, shorter cranks are not just for WorldTour prodigies. In fact, they might be the most impactful upgrade an everyday rider can make this winter, for comfort and power.

There is one important adjustment to make if you do go shorter: saddle height.

“Say we drop 10 millimetres, then you need to go up 10 millimetres [on saddle height] and keep the setback where it is," Burt advises.

A one-to-one change preserves leg extension and ensures the new crank length positions you in that stronger, more sustainable place over the bottom bracket.

Wahoo's KICKR BIKE SHIFT and KICKR BIKE PRO come stock with adjustable crank arms, while Zwift makes them available after market for its indoor bike. For regular bikes, Appleman makes a rentable 'variable length crank' with the widest range we've seen — from 175mm all the way down to 100mm.

4. Sweat, not saddles, are causing those pesky saddle sores

A common complaint about indoor riding, monotony aside, is saddle sores, even when using the same saddle as you usually do.

The culprit here isn't the saddle but sweat.

"One of the biggest issues is you just sweat into your chamois and it's got nowhere to go," Burt says.

Outdoors, airflow and micro-movements constantly wick moisture and vary contact points. Indoors, nothing changes unless you change it. And that stillness accelerates irritation dramatically.

And the fix, according to Burt, is almost laughably simple:

"Everybody should cycle with a fan indoors… and it should be pointed primarily at their bum."

Not your face. Not your chest. Your bum.

“I’ve solved lots of people’s saddle sores indoors just by saying: get a cheap fan and point it at your bottom," he says.

Movement, too, will make a big difference, Burt says.

"Your degrees of freedom get less indoors… any system that lets you move up and down or side to side changes the saddle pressure hugely," he says.

Gadgets like Wahoo's KICKR Climb or a rocker plate certainly help here but even simply getting out of the saddle can do the trick.

"Set a timer, stand up for two seconds every ten minutes… that is demonstrably helpful in stopping everything hurting," Burt says.

Your winter pain-cave survival guide, according to Phil Burt

Here’s the distilled version of Burt’s insights:

1. Get comfortable

There’s no reason to cling to an aggressive road position if all it does is create tension and shorten your ride. Bring up the front and shorten the reach.

2. Shorten your cranks.

Shorter cranks improve comfort, hip mechanics, symmetry and power.

3. Aim a fan at your backside.

Sweat management prevents skin breakdown.

5. Add movement.

Standing breaks, rocker plates, tilt functions—anything helps.

6. Consider that your indoor bike may need its own fit.

Indoor riding is its own discipline.

Georgia Hunter Bell’s Instagram username, @georgiabelltheduathlete, has been causing confusion among her followers. “I tried to change it the other day, actually,” she says. But Instagram informed her that, as a verified Olympic athlete, she’d need to contact the platform’s big bosses. The “duathlete” hints at a life beyond her running – although many fans assume it refers to her dual discipline versatility on the running track – she is an Olympic bronze medallist in the 1,500m and a World Championships silver medallist in the 800m. “That’s not quite what duathlete means, but I see where they’re going with it,” she concedes.

A scroll through the tiles of her profile starts to tell a more intriguing story. Between the running shots and celebrations beneath vast stadium crowds come flashes of something else: bicycles. There’s Hunter Bell on a Wattbike, a Zwift indoor trainer, and a deep blue Canyon road bike, descending a mountain on clear-skied Mallorca. “Once you delve into people’s stories, you usually find that they’re quite multi-layered,” the 32-year-old says.

Hunter Bell’s story came to me in a PR email, the sort I get 20 times a day and usually ignore. I’d seen her race on television, but knew little about her, and assumed she spent most of her waking hours pounding roads and tracks in her running shoes. I was wrong. “Though best known on the track,” the PR email read, “she does 70% of her training on the bike.” On the bike? But she’s a world-class runner. I was mystified and somewhat skeptical. “Could I meet her?” I typed in reply. And so, two weeks after Hunter Bell won silver at the World Athletics Championships in Tokyo, I find myself sitting across from the Olympian and her black Americano in a cafe in Clapham, South London.

I have two pressing questions: first, how can so much cycling make someone an elite-level runner? Second, can it work the other way round – can doing lots of running make you a better cyclist? The answers, it turns out, are not straightforward; Hunter Bell begins with a stirring comeback tale.

Born in Paris and brought up in London, she was a gifted young athlete and rose to become the UK’s top-ranked junior 800m runner. She continued to excel in athletics while at university in Birmingham, and later earned a scholarship to train at the University of California, Berkeley. There, US coaches doubled her training volume to 60 miles a week – to disastrous effect. “I was getting stress fractures from the impact of running,” she says. “For long periods, I was hobbling around in a boot, on crutches.” In 2017, after two years stateside, she turned her back on racing and found an office job in cybersecurity sales.

It wasn’t until the cycling boom of the 2020 Covid lockdowns that her now husband George Hunter suggested she try a road bike. “Originally it was a way to stay fit while also giving my body an impact break,” she says, “and then very quickly I got the appeal of cycling and was saying, ‘Let’s do 50k, 100k, 200k, let’s cycle around Mallorca, Ibiza, let’s do some of the climbs from the Tour de France.’”

Ibiza, I realise, is a reference to the Duathlon World Championships in 2023, which was Hunter Bell’s first serious race on the bike, and her first event in GB kit. She won in the 30-34 age group. “I gained quite good fitness through all of that training, and ran a sub-16[-minute] 5k. That’s when I got back in touch with my old running coach,” she says. The rest, as the saying goes, is history.

Despite her comeback transpiring as a duathlete – hence her Instagram handle – Hunter Bell revived her running ambitions, made it onto GB’s Paris Olympics squad, and earned her place on the podium in the 1,500m, realising the dreams of her childhood. She left her office job after the Games, and is now a Nike-sponsored pro athlete. And what most interests me is that, through it all, cycling remained integral to her progress.

Returning to that 70% cycling claim, how much does Hunter Bell really ride her bike? “Basically I do about 30-35 miles of running a week, and about 100 miles of cycling,” she says. “It’s more cycling in terms of mileage, but time-wise, it might be similar.” As a rough calculation, that equates to about five to six hours of cycling and about four hours of running, so the PR’s 70% figure isn’t far off the mark – and it strikes me as an immense amount of cycling for a runner.

Does it set her apart among her running rivals? “It’s very uncommon,” Hunter Bell says. “Most of [my rivals] only go on the bike when they’re injured, so cycling carries negative connotations.” For her, it was the opposite: the bike spurred her back into competition. She is now five years injury-free – “touch wood,” she smiles – for which she is thankful, in large part, to cycling.

It’s not just about avoiding injuries, though. “People are realising that you can actually get a lot of endurance base built on the bike, saving running input for the speedier stuff, where you’ll do that flat-out sprinting on the track. That gives you a balance,” Hunter Bell says, adding that she credits cycling – and especially Zwift – with helping to improve her finishing kick. “I’m picturing the names of the sessions now, like ‘Grin and Bear It’, ‘Under Overs’...,” she says, wincing at the thought. “I feel like I go to the same place [mentally] on the track, and you just keep pushing through.”

I want to explore the science behind Hunter Bell’s success, and whether cycling can form the basis of elite running achievements – and vice versa. My first call is to physiologist Professor Richard Davison, whom I ask what he makes of cycling training for runners. “I think it makes a lot of sense,” he says. For Davison, a central tenet is critical power: the maximum power output an athlete can sustain without fatiguing rapidly. Go above this, and you begin to drain your ‘tank’ of energy, known as ‘W Prime’ (or W’) – “it’s a finite amount,” stresses Davison. Provided you stay below your critical power, the levels in the energy tank are spared.

“I can see how, with the appropriate cycling intervals, you could make your critical power as high as possible,” he says. “A 1,500m runner will be trying to run most of the race not dipping into that W Prime too much, preserving it for the last 200m. You will have seen many runners get to the last 50m, or even the last 30m, and all of a sudden have nothing left. If you can operate in your race for long periods of time without having to dip into W Prime, then that gives you a weapon.” I think back to watching Hunter Bell race, and notice it’s often on the final stretch that she comes alive. Suddenly, all that low-impact, cycling interval training makes sense.

What I’m more interested to know is this: can it work the other way? Can a cyclist get better at cycling through running? Davison immediately bursts my bubble, warning that, for a cyclist, too much running is likely to prove counter-productive. He speaks from personal experience. When he trained for the Highland Cross, a duathlon in the Scottish Highlands, he found that increasing his running volume was “hurting” his performance on the bike. “If you’re running off the back of cycling, it’ll develop your aerobic capacity, but it’ll wreck your legs,” he says. “If you want to compete at a good level cycling, running won’t help. It damages the muscles too much.”

Running is a high-impact sport, generating forces that an uninitiated cyclist’s legs simply can’t handle. We need to start slowly: the gentler impact of jogging can be good for improving bone density, but beginners should be careful not to push it too hard too soon. “You really have to just tread on eggshells for quite some time,” says Davison. “Aerobically you’ve got the lungs, the heart and the muscles [to run], but the impact is liable to damage the muscles, the joints and the tendons.” After a few weeks of gentle jogging, you should be able to cautiously turn up the speed. For most cyclists, a single weekly jog is enough to boost bone health and add variety without denting performance on the bike.

British cyclist Max Stedman discovered the cruel impact of running when he threw himself into it last year. Having spent 10 seasons riding for Continental teams, and breaking the British Everesting record in 2020, he began his cycling retirement with a third place at his local Parkrun in Bristol, “and then I was buckled,” he says. “My calves were wrecked for about three months.”

Stedman, now a coach at Belmont Performance, understands the pain came from a lack of conditioning of his muscles and tendons, which had gone impact-free for so many years. His cycling team bosses had never advised him to run, though he went for the odd jog, and recalls a 5k competition he had with team-mate Rory Townsend, who beat him by three seconds, posting a 18:08. “I couldn’t walk for about a week and a half,” Stedman says of the aftermath.

Despite his injuries, Stedman’s running times are well above average – he completed his first half-marathon in 1hr 20min this year, and has set his sights on his mum’s 2:36 marathon PB – but he hasn’t seen any uptick in his cycling. Quite the opposite, actually: he feels he’s lost his “punch” on the bike since taking running more seriously. “With running, there’s no need to accelerate that hard. I might need to ‘up it’ by five seconds a kilometre for a few kilometres, but that doesn’t really require a hard change of acceleration, whereas cycling does,” he says.

Back in Clapham, my coffee meeting with Hunter Bell is coming to an end. Her next stop is Battersea running track, for a session of gruelling all-out efforts she’s been dreading all morning. It’s the type of training, alongside her cycling, that’s guiding her to medals and PBs in her 30s. I cut to the chase and ask how much of her success she puts down to the bike. “It’s hard to know,” she says, cautiously, “but I feel it will be a part of my plan forever. The number-one thing is that it has allowed me to be injury-free and stack year upon year [of training], that’s what leads to Olympic and Worlds medals.”

Cycling alone does not make someone an elite runner. From speaking to Hunter Bell and others, it’s clear you need a base of conditioning, the type she built in her teenage days, and the lack of which likely led Mark Cavendish, arguably the fastest cyclist of all time, to run a fairly average 1:57 half-marathon this spring, before abandoning his tilt at the Paris marathon. But if you can find the right blend for you, as Hunter Bell has, the performance gains can be medal-winning.

“For as long as I’m a professional track athlete, cycling is going to be 50%-plus of everything I do,” she says. She may no longer be a duathlete, technically, but her training says otherwise.

This feature originally appeared in Cycling Weekly magazine on 20th November 2025. Subscribe now and never miss an issue.

What does it take to secure a contract with a WorldTour team? Single-digit body fat? Through-the-roof endurance? Muscles chiselled from granite? All these are useful, but what about something more specific and measurable? For that, we turn to an old metric, a new term and a recent revelation.

“Our experience suggests that the rider’s performance after 3,000kJ of work done is where we should be looking to identify quality juniors who could make it at WorldTour level,” says John Wakefield, director of development at the Red-Bull-Bora-Hansgrohe under-23 development team. “That’s a higher number than we expected when we started this project.” On a professional level, this development will help scouts refine data search. At recreational level, discovering the impact of kilojoules – that is, spent energy – on your performance will help you beat fatigue and race stronger. All in all, it’s time to talk workload, durability and why 3,000 is the magic number – for budding professionals, anyway.

Race-winning metric

Remco Evenepoel’s transfer from Soudal Quick-Step to Red Bull-Bora-Hansgrohe for the 2026 season somewhat eclipsed the team’s signing of four other riders, including the Belgian’s Quick-Step team-mate Mattia Cattaneo, and Gianni Vermeersch from Alpecin-Deceuninck. The latter duo, at 34 and 32 years old respectively, are proven on the WorldTour, unlike young guns, Brit Callum Thornley and Aussie Luke Tuckwell, both stepping up from the German outfit’s under-23 development team, the Red Bull-Bora-Hansgrohe Rookies, which launched at Continental level earlier this year. At time of writing, Thornley had won twice in 2025 – at the British National under-23 TT Championships and the time-trial stage at the Sibiu Cycling Tour in Romania. Tuckwell’s best result was second on GC at the Giro Next Gen. But beyond race results, what made these two riders such promising prospects in the eyes of the team’s selectors?

VO2max and power-profile data remain important, of course, but energy spent – measured in kilojoules – has become the magic number in talent-spotting. The epiphany came at the World Championships in Zurich last year, when Italian Lorenzo Finn of the Red Bull junior team, Grenke Auto Eder, won junior road race gold. The analytics team would later discover that when he rode away from Spain’s Héctor Álvarez with 20km to go, Finn had already burnt through 3,000kJ. “Until then, the research had suggested around 2,000kJ was the threshold for identifying good junior and under-23 talent,” says Wakefield. “But this performance told us 3,000kJ was the benchmark we should be looking at.”

Hours before the real race starts. Take Evenepoel’s 2023 Liège-Bastogne-Liège triumph. The Belgian completed the 257km parcours in 6:16.11, averaging 41.3kph (25.7mph) at a cadence of 93rpm, having burned 5,965kcal. How does this relate to kilojoules? One kilocalorie equals 4.184kJ, so Evenepoel’s 5,965kcal equates to 24,975kJ of total energy expended. But viewed through a cycling lens, that figure assumes 100% efficiency – as if every joule burned became forward motion. In reality, cyclists are only 20-25% efficient, with most energy lost as heat. Assuming midpoint efficiency of 22.5%, Evenepoel’s true mechanical output comes out at 5,615kJ. We don’t have access to his power file from LBL, but we do know that the Belgian’s race-winning move came with 33km to go on the Côte de la Retoute, meaning he delivered a peloton-breaking burst of power after he’d already done 5,000kJ of work. If you want to drop the world’s best, that’s what it takes.

Going hard, then harder

How does this knowledge of work done translate to training objectives? To find out, we turn to another Liège winner, Dan Martin. “At the start of my career, we’d separate long rides and shorter, interval-heavy rides,” he says. “But later that changed to long, hard rides with intense efforts at the end – to mimic the intensity patterns of races. My coach and I achieved that via training to kilojoules for goal races.” The focus switched to developing performance after a huge amount of work had already been done. “Liège in 2013, when I won, was the first year I’d really focused on matching kilojoule count in training to the race itself,” Martin adds. “While my competitors might have been doing six or seven hours easy, I’d ride pretty hard for four hours followed by two hours of motopacing with sprints at the end.” Martin’s benchmark as a top WorldTour pro was 5,000kJ, beyond which he’d repeat hard two- to three-minute efforts to match the demands of the Ardennes Classics. “I’d train harder than the profile demanded, in search of that bit extra.”

Ambitious US riders would train harder than their local races demanded, explains Allen. “There was no choice,” he says. “Once they’d secured a contract in Europe, their races would be longer and more competitive… Our US riders are used to doing 2,500 to 3,000kJ of work [in a race], whereas the European events can be over 5,000kJ. That’s a huge gap, so we had to do a tremendous amount of additional work to prepare them for Europe.” Does this mean we should all be focusing on kilojoules? “The problem with kilojoules in isolation is that it doesn’t take into account intensity,” says Allen. He points out that doing 3,000kJ of work by pootling along at 10mph is very different from doing 3,000kJ-worth of tempo.

Being able to perform after having ripped through 3,000kJ represents excellent durability – the concept of maintaining power after prolonged physical exertion. At the highest level, this counts for more than a rider’s performance when fresh. “It’s a fancy name for the concept we’ve used for years: stamina,” says US coach Hunter Allen, co-author of the best-selling Training and Racing with a Power Meter, “but whether you call it stamina, fatigue resistance or durability, it’s all about matching the demands of a race. Certainly at the professional level, you’re often riding at tempo or sweetspot for three, four or even five hours before the real race starts.”

How amateurs can use kilojoule benchmarks

So what does this mean for amateur riders – how can you use kilojoules as a useful benchmark? To start with, you’ll need a power meter. Then perform two tests: one when fresh, and one when fatigued. For the fresh test, warm up for 20-30 minutes, then ride a 20-minute max effort, akin to a time trial. Record your average power output for this effort. On another day, ideally in similar conditions, ride steadily in zones two to three until your head unit shows 2,000kJ of work (or 2,500kJ if you’re very well trained). For most riders, that’s around two-and-a-half to three hours of riding. Spin easy for five to 10 minutes, then repeat the 20-minute effort, noting your average power for this 20 minutes. Now compare your fresh versus fatigued 20-minute power. A difference of 5% or less means you’re very durable; 5-10% is moderate durability; a drop of over 10% between the two shows your durability needs some work.

Bear in mind that weight is a major factor here. A lighter rider is likely to have to ride for longer to hit their kilojoules benchmark. A heavier rider might hit 2,000kJ in two hours at endurance pace, whereas a smaller rider might take three hours. A small female rider who weighs 50kg, for example, might be better off setting herself a 1,500kJ target. “Age is also a consideration,” adds Allen. “As you grow older, your VO2max drops, making it harder to sustain the higher watts needed to rack up a workload of 2,500kJ.”

Broadly speaking, recreational riders who do less than five hours of training a week are likely to find their durability challenged after 1,500kJ of work. An amateur racer who trains at least eight hours a week should be able to perform quite well beyond 2,000kJ. High-level amateurs and budding professionals should be targeting that magical 3,000kJ figure. At the top level, the best WorldTour pros are able to produce race-winning efforts even after 5,000-6,000kJ of work.

How to up your limit

How do you raise your kilojoules bar for greater durability? First, by understanding that kilojoules are basically a proxy for aerobic capacity. Tolerating heavy workloads requires you to do big volumes of Zone 2 work – as popularised by Tadej Pogačar. However, this advice comes with an important caveat from Allen. “Your training needs to take into consideration time restraints,” he says. “The professionals train 20-30 hours a week, which means they’re doing around six hours of intervals each week. That’s a lot.” He believes amateurs doing six to 10 hours a week should not aim to replicate the 80/20 split of high and low intensity. “Most amateurs simply don’t have the luxury of riding at Zone 2 for that much time. Instead, you need to spend more time at tempo and sweetspot pace, just beneath your threshold, as well as VO2max and FTP intervals. This will boost your ability to burn fat, sparing glycogen [stored glucose] for the harder parts of your race.”

Nutrition also comes into the kilojoules equation, namely on-the-bike feeding. A major limiter of performance beyond muscular fatigue is fuel availability from glucose and glycogen. If you’re not sufficiently fuelled, the body shifts more toward fat oxidation, which is great for endurance pace but not great when looking to hit threshold or sprint efforts. That’s why, on longer rides, you should consume 60-90g of carbohydrates per hour.

Being able to belt out high power after a hefty amount of work – whether it’s 2,000kJ, the magic 3,000kJ for aspiring pros, or 5,000kJ for superstars like Evenepoel – is the essence of race-winning performance. Understanding and tracking your kilojoule workload brings clarity to what used to be guesswork, revealing how long you can truly perform before fatigue sets in. Whether you’re chasing road race success or simply want to put your mates to the sword in the final miles of long rides, the principle is the same: build the engine, fuel it well, and teach it to keep firing when the tank feels empty. Get that balance right, and you’ll not only raise your kilojoule ceiling – you’ll redefine what you thought was possible on the bike.

Monster workloads, mega numbers

71,500kJ: Estimated total mechanical energy expenditure of a Tour de France rider across the 21 stages

76,000kcal: Estimated total metabolic energy expenditure of a Tour de France rider across the 21 stages

6,000kJ: Approximate amount of work done by a rider at the sharp end of a one-day Classic such as Paris-Roubaix

6.5%: Drop-off in 20-minute TT performance by well-trained amateurs after a defined prior workload, versus 12.5% for weaker riders – according to a 2025 study by Barsumyan et al.

60g: Amount of carbohydrates per hour needed to extend your durability

5,000KJ: Workload beyond which the world’s best riders are still able to launch and sustain efforts at close to their ‘fresh’ FTP

The full, original version of this feature was published in the 30 October 2025 print edition of Cycling Weekly magazine – available to buy on the newsstand every Thursday (UK only) while digital versions are available on Apple News and Readly. Subscriptions through Magazine's Direct.

This week, we ran a piece about someone rediscovering the love of cycling. Without the shackles of heart-rate monitoring and pace-setting, Sean Russell was able to enjoy the landscape around him in a way he couldn’t when in pursuit of personal bests and training goals.

He saw deer galloping in fields, and took time to enjoy the rolling hills. “I looked down at my speed and saw it was just 23km/h, and that was perfect,” he concluded.

Russell’s pursuit of the slow lane has struck a chord - though one commenter under his post, Blue (and I), still marvel at a 23km/h average speed. It is something many agreed with.

“It's so easy to fall into the over competitive side of cycling, and so important to get back to the roots of your motivation, that is, the joy of riding your bike in the countryside. Competition is fun, but it can become addictive and, ultimately, unhealthy,” wrote Guido, another commenter. “A good balance helps your cycling passion to stay sustainable in the long term.”

Many people commenting on Russell’s article too have been “serious” cyclists, reforming either because of age, or for a lost sense of joy that had become dislodged on long, hard training rides.

“In my early 70s, I favour something in between the leisurely ride and the all-out race, a ride that will keep me in shape without being overly strenuous,” M. Bellefeuille wrote, noting that this balance-point allowed him to enjoy the spectacle of “the mighty St Lawrence River [in North America] as I ride along it!”

Another seasoned rider “with over 750km and hundreds of races in my legs” counts the 23km/h rides as the “pinnacle of my cycling life!” He, too, has kept hold of the simple joy of riding a bike outside. “(Almost) every ride continues to be amazing, just like that first ride, many decades ago!”

It’s easy to fall into the delicious trap of chasing goals. It’s easy, too, to forget that Strava is a kind of social media, a tool to measure yourself not only against your previous workouts, but against the people you follow, and the friends you ride with. It’s addictive, one commenter reminds us.

“A very important lesson in life is that there will always be someone better/richer/slimmer/taller than you; it’s a fool's errand chasing the top spot,” they wrote. “Ride your bike for yourself, not anyone else.”

The people responding to Russell’s story of lost and rekindled love met the article at different stages in their own journey with our sport. Some bolstered by the permission to go slower, to ride differently. Others, however, are at Russell’s pain-point, when his desire to ride had fallen flat.

“I haven’t been riding for about six weeks now, and still don’t feel any desire to do so,” Sammy said. “I hope that in time I will be able to go out on my bike and just enjoy the ride and not race my hardest every time . That would be great to ride under no pressure at all.”

Larry, on the other hand, taps out a comment, joy sparking: “I was not much good at racing anyway so why was I ruining a nice ride? If it wasn't fun why do it? I still overdid things despite not racing and am paying the price but with e-bike now I can have fun without worrying about making my heart issues worse.”

One seasoned time triallist pitched in, swapping Garmin-monitored summer training sessions with off-season rides designed purely with enjoyment in mind: “heart rate, cadence, power – so what?”

So, shake off the shackles of fast, tough training rides, fellow cyclists! Regain the joy of riding, and then maybe stick a tracker in your back pocket and see how you feel.

The goal is - for me anyway - to be like one of the commenters under the original article, for every ride to feel like the first, but mostly just to maintain the pleasure of cycling, no matter how hard you decide to push yourself.

I first met Richard ‘Butch’ Butcher back in the summer of 2023. He’d just landed the Cycling Weekly photography gig, and I liked him straight away. This wasn’t by dint of any particularly endearing personality traits – I mean, we’d only exchanged a cursory ‘alright mate’ in the office kitchen. But there was something about this guy that I really took a shine to. And that something was his weight.

Yes, Butch was a big man. He was also old. In an office full of five per cent body fat and youthful complexion he was a breath of fresh air. Bragging similar proportions, I had finally found a kindred spirit – albeit one I’d known for less than three seconds.

With Butch being a photographer and myself a writer, it wasn’t long before we teamed up for some riding shoots. We went to Wales, to France, and even raced each other across London in a bicycle versus underground face-off. We also went to the pub and dispatched countless pints of lager and endless packets of pork scratchings but I digress.

After around a year or so of his tenure at Cycling Weekly I could sense Butch bristling with discontent. A kind of malaise had set in and our resident photographer appeared beset with despondency.

“Spit it out,” I said to him. “What’s taken the zoom out of your lens?”

“I’ve had enough, " he quickly retorted. “I watch you guys riding up mountains, through beautiful countryside, and all I get to do is drive from place to place taking pictures. I want,” he chimed, unaware of a pending copyright issue, “to ride my bicycle.”

And so the journey began. Some 40 years since he’d last turned a pedal in earnest Butch, who now is pushing the ripe old age of 60, got hold of an e-bike secreted in the darkest recesses of Cycling Weekly’s bike locker and set to work. His mission, a simple one: get fit, lose weight, live longer. Standard.

His commutes on the Himiway were stymied as winter hit and the big man was now bereft. Butch wanted to ride, but the thought of negotiating the Reading conurbation on a rainy November morning was not an alluring one. But his fitness – due to an admirably consistent summer of e-biking commutes – had gone from non-existent to actually-really-rather-good. I suggested that to keep the momentum going he turned to the Dark Side. Zwift, I told him, will turn your legs into pistons, your lungs into church organ bellows, and your stomach into a finely sculpted work of art.

He managed about five seconds worth of pixelated pedalling before dismounting the office’s Wahoo Kickr bike. He didn’t like Zwift, he told me. He said he felt like he was riding through an episode of Peppa Pig. Too animated. Not real enough.

Rouvy was the obvious answer. And after a few short sessions of ambling around a real-world parcours, Butch was hooked. Autumn passed in a blaze of newfound wattage, winter was bisected at breakneck pace as the big man – who was getting smaller by the day – realised he’d officially been bitten by the cycling bug.

Come spring, Butch emerged from his pain cave 20 kilograms lighter. I told him to ease off – have an iced-bun, take a break – but he wasn’t listening.

His vision was blinkered. He spent the spring and summer commuting with laser-focused consistency. The e-bike was retired, replaced by a sleek Van Rysel: aero fairings, Di2, deep-section hoops – the man meant business. Hills were no longer dispatched with a click of a button, they now required brute force driven through carbon fibre soles.

In less than a year, Butch had reinvented himself. He was a cyclist. He wore Lycra. He click-clacked around the office in cleats. At 60 years old, he was in the best shape of his adult life.

Butch’s commutes tallied the best part of 20 miles per day. Base miles gone beserk. I suggested that to sign off the summer we should put his slow-twitch muscle fibres to the test: a ride out from the office into the wilds of Wiltshire and back. An imperial ton in the last of the sun beckoned…

One hundred miles. A rite of passage. Something that cyclists can aim at and aspire towards for years. But Butch was ready for this now – although he was sceptical. “Just think of it as five back-to-back commutes," I told him. “Break it down into 20-mile chunks. Eat and hydrate. Look around, enjoy the countryside, the sun on your face, the fact that you’re a fit and healthy human being.

We rode fast away from the Reading conurbation and onto the lanes of north Hampshire. We spun up ascents with a quick cadence and dropped back down with heavy breaths and noisy freehubs. Butch sat stoically on my wheel as we pushed through the rolling contours of Wiltshire and up to Coombe Gibbet. Fifty miles done. Fast, fun, free.

The consistency of his training really shone through towards the latter stages of the ride Once again breaching the Hampshire border I didn’t have to temper my pace, Butch was in beast mode, taking the occasional turn on the front and keeping the tempo high. The man who once watched others ride was now the one leading the charge. He’d become what he’d always photographed: a cyclist in full flight.

Back at the office, we stowed our bikes and basked in a day well spent.

Butch’s cycling journey has just begun, now I suppose I’d better start learning how to operate a camera.

The mantra of polarised training is ‘go easy or go hard – never in between’. But what if that’s all wrong? Rob Kemp meets the coach who says the middle is where the magic happens

For more than two decades, polarised training has dominated endurance sports. The model – popularised by physiologist Stephen Seiler – demands that athletes spend about 80% of their training at low intensity, and 20% at very high intensity. Anything in the middle, the theory goes, is no man’s land: too hard to recover from, too easy to stimulate real adaptations.

It’s a simple, compelling message – especially in an era obsessed with data purity and perfect zone distribution. But what if everything we thought we knew about how to divvy up our effort across the week was wrong?

Steve Neal, a Canadian coach with 37 years in endurance sport, doesn’t believe in a single “one-size-fits-all” model. Instead, he adapts training to the season and the athlete’s specific needs – sometimes pyramidal, sometimes polarised. The key, Neal says, is selecting the right method to move fitness in the desired direction.

While pyramidal training often emphasises tempo and so-called “middle” intensities, Neal doesn’t view this mid-level work zone as wasted effort. Used correctly, it can be the engine room of real-world performance.

“I’ve been doing this for a long time, and whenever I look at riders’ data – whether it’s in TrainingPeaks, INSCYD, or Xert – what I often see is pyramidal training, not polarised,” Neal says. “People talk about 80/20, but in reality, when you analyse it properly with power data, my athletes are often at more like 95/5. Even when they’re racing stage races, doing two-and-a-half to three hours a day for a week, they very rarely break 90/10.”

If Neal is right, the implications are huge. Most of us might be telling ourselves we’re doing polarised training while actually implementing a structure with a broader base, heftier middle and much sharper tip – better described as pyramidal. Even at pro level, the roots of the polarised model may be shakier than most realise.

Neal’s approach blends old-school coaching wisdom with new-school ideas. His mentor Juerg Feldmann, a Swiss speed skater who later coached Canadian mountain bike world champions and Olympians, taught him to combine rigorous fundamentals with innovative methods. “Some of the methods I learned from Juerg years ago are only just being discussed widely today. For example, respiration [breath] training – he was using it over 30 years ago.”

Neal has built on these innovative foundations. Unlike many modern coaches, he doesn’t take training software outputs at face value. “I think software does a great job of the higher-intensity training zones, but I still prefer to use lactate testing to dial in the training below threshold.”

At the heart of Neal’s philosophy – and his success in raising the performance of elite riders across varied disciplines – is pyramidal training. He has found that this approach especially suits athletes aged over 40, who make up 95% of his coaching clients.

At its core, pyramidal training means plenty of easy endurance work, a solid dose of tempo or “middle” intensity, and just a small amount of hard effort at threshold or VO2max. Picture a pyramid: a wide aerobic base that narrows as intensity rises, with that middle zone getting real attention.

Unlike more strictly polarised models, pyramidal training doesn’t avoid the “grey zone” – it makes smart use of it.

Neal’s cyclists use pyramidal training to build aerobic durability and fatigue resistance, improving their ability to ride at or near race pace for extended periods. “The key,” Neal says, “is looking at the actual intensities that will drive performance. Many riders and coaches neglect to consider this, and instead train in zones that look right on paper but don’t match what racing actually demands.” He points out that in stage races and Gran Fondos, riders often spend hours at tempo, which for Neal sits within Zone 3.

He defines his zones by heart rate (see box), refined with lactate, metabolic, or muscle oxygen testing where possible. When he prescribes pyramidal training, the focus is on Zone 2a/2b endurance and Zone 3 tempo, with just enough high intensity to maintain race readiness. This differs sharply from polarised training, which avoids tempo almost entirely. “One of the biggest misconceptions is that Zones 2 and 3 are fundamentally different,” Neal explains. “They’re not – it depends on the person.

That’s why I measure LT1, LT2, and a point in between that I call the ‘balance point’.” That balance point, he says, can shift dramatically even when the thresholds themselves barely move. “Sometimes I only move an athlete’s LT1 or LT2 by five watts across a whole season, but that balance point can shift by 30 or 40 watts – and that’s what makes people faster.” In other words, the athlete’s usable range of performance expands, and they are able to ride at closer to threshold (LT2) for longer periods of time, even if the threshold itself doesn’t move.

Have we been getting it all wrong?

For Neal, the entire polarised model rests on a methodological error. “Polarised training was studied at the elite level in rowing, running and cycling – but only using heart rate,” he says. “The problem is, heart rate is usually a zone lower than power.” He alludes to the fact that heart rate doesn’t always match how hard the legs are pushing: it lags behind changes in effort, and drifts with fatigue or heat.

“So those studies probably just showed what we now call pyramidal training. That’s why I think comparing pyramidal and polarised is misleading – because most of what we think we know about polarised is wrong. What I really notice in my athletes isn’t a lack of low-intensity work, but that the supposed 15–20% above threshold just isn’t there.” That’s a bold claim, but Neal has evidence on his side. Analyse a year of training from almost any serious rider, he says, and you’ll find pyramidal, not polarised, distributions.

“Even elite athletes people assume are polarised are actually pyramidal if you track them properly.”

So what does pyramidal training actually achieve? Neal points to three key adaptations. First, aerobic development: by training near the balance point, where fat and carbohydrate contribute in roughly equal measure, riders can push their aerobic system to become more efficient. Second, durability:

“If I can get someone’s tempo power closer to 75% of their VO2max power, they will race better,” Neal says. “Even if their VO2max number drops slightly, their ability to sustain power over time improves dramatically.” Finally, metabolic efficiency: riding long at tempo teaches the body to manage fuel better, delaying fatigue.

The gains may not show up as flashy VO2max increases, but they win races. “If someone has a VO2max power of 350 watts, I don’t want only their five-minute power to go up,” Neal explains. “I want their tempo or balance point to be 75% of that, i.e. around 262 watts. If it was 220 watts to begin with, and I can move it up by 40 watts, they’ll race faster – even if their VO2max power drops.”

Who benefits most from pyramidal training? Neal says masters athletes with limited hours see huge gains. “One of my riders is 45, Canadian marathon MTB champion, always top three in cross-country,” he says. “Over a year, his threshold has gone from 300 watts to around 310–320. That might not seem huge, but year after year, at his age, still winning – it’s massive.”

Neal gives a UK example: Sam, a new dad, working full-time, training just eight to nine hours a week. For two years he stuck with endurance and tempo, and became rock-solid. “He could sit at 300 watts in Zone 3, breathing steady, heart rate under 83%, and call it easy. That’s durability. That’s why pyramidal training works.”

The risk, Neal cautions, isn’t just overtraining, it’s focusing too much on threshold work without balance. “Simply piling on threshold sessions doesn’t actually improve threshold,” he explains. Done to excess, or executed poorly, that kind of training can also push an athlete toward being overly glycolytic, eroding their ability to go long and ride strong in the tempo zone. Research has shown that excessive threshold work can blunt gains at that intensity. Instead, riders should build fitness at sub-threshold, says Neal, pushing the ceiling up from below.

Holding back requires patience and discipline. Some riders simply find pyramidal training boring, concedes Neal, recalling a talented UK rider who improved 8-10% in three months on his system – but quit because he didn’t want to skip smash-fest group rides.

Making middle-intensity training part of the weekly schedule is nonnegotiable for Neal – it’s where performance is built. The easy miles keep you steady; the all-out efforts sharpen you. But the work that makes you faster, stronger, and harder to crack? That happens in between.

After two decades of polarised orthodoxy, that idea may feel heretical. Yet the data – and the riders – keep proving him right. The truth is that real-world cycling isn’t tidy or binary; it’s a continuum of effort, fatigue and adaptation. Somewhere between too easy and too hard lies the zone that holds it all together – not a grey area, but gold.

More middle ground worked wonders for me

Cameron Nicholls, 41, from the Sunshine Coast, Queensland, Australia recounts how switching from polarised training to a more middle-heavy pyramidal model paid dividends.

“I used to turn my nose up at sweetspot training. I was strictly team Zone 2 and high-intensity, plus VO2max and big-gear efforts. Nothing in the middle. I spent most of my training at low intensity and the rest in the hurt locker.

“After deciding to try something new, I worked with coach Ryan Thomas and adopted a hybrid approach. The first six weeks were pyramidal, and the remaining six weeks were polarised. In the first six weeks, I was mainly doing Zone 2 rides and sweetspot efforts, sitting in the grey somewhere between Zones 3 and 4.

“Coming from a polarised model, it was not a training philosophy I had considered. But ‘no man’s land’ wasn’t as bad as I thought. In the remaining six weeks, we ramped up the intensity and added VO2max and anaerobic HIIT sessions. My bread-and-butter Zone 2 rides were always maintained.

“At 41, I achieved personal bests in three of four key power-to-weight segments, and I had great racing results. Whether the pyramidal approach or the hybrid model takes the credit, I can’t say for sure. But it’s the only thing I really changed in the last 10 years. It delivered some of the best results of my career.”

PYRAMID IN PRACTICE

So what does pyramidal training look like in practice?

● Base phase: Lots of Zone 2 endurance, with controlled amounts of Zone 3 tempo.

● Build phase: For a rider training around eight hours per week, aim to lift tempo volume to three to four hours weekly, while keeping maintenance doses of high intensity every week or two. Depending on the athlete and the demands of their target event, this phase may also involve backing off some tempo in favour of more endurance work, or shifting focus towards race-specific intensities.

● Race season: Hold the pyramidal distribution, layering in specific intensity for events.

● A typical week for an 8-10-hour amateur might include:

- 2-3 steady endurance rides (Zones 2a/2b)
- 2 tempo sessions (Zone 3, 45-90 minutes)
- 1 group ride or race-specific session (touching Zone 4/5)
- 1 easy spin or recovery ride

● Regular testing is crucial, Neal insists. “Many of my athletes own a lactate meter and/or a muscle oxygen sensor,” he says. “Home testing helps them track where they’re at while saving money on lab sessions.”

As I pedalled past the old wooden barn, the narrow road opened onto rolling green fields. Above the fields there were birds, and as the lane curved and climbed, I shifted down a couple of gears and got out of the saddle and saw deer in the field among the crops. They galloped for the copse at the top of the field, the road continued on under the cover of trees, and the yellow-brown leaves fell. I looked down at my speed and saw it was just 23km/h, and that was perfect.

Once I’d passed the trees, the road dipped and up ahead was a small stone church with its spire poking out of the surrounding trees. I saw it all.

There was a time, however, when I would have seen nothing. When I would have looked down at my Wahoo and at my heart rate and would have worked hard not to drop below 30km/h. My thighs would ache and I would look at the road ahead of me and that was it.

There was a time when I would see another rider up ahead and they would become a target, so I would stomp on the pedals to catch them and to pass them and then continue on my way. There was a time when I would care more about the Strava segments and personal bests, and posting long winding routes with high average speeds and low average heart rates.

I would ignore the deer and the birds and the little churches. I would ride until I was empty and my legs were jelly. At some point, however, that stopped. I fell out of love with it and for a couple of years I barely rode at all.

Why do any of us start cycling? First, perhaps, comes necessity. I first rode my bike to get around, to go to my friends’ houses, to do my paper round and eventually to commute. But why do we take that next step and plot a route among the countryside with no other purpose than to pedal in one great loop?

For me, it was because I enjoyed being out on those lanes and seeing the things I saw along the way and stopping in the little villages for a coffee and a cake. I bought my first road bike, a B’Twin Triban 540 with Shimano 105, for about £700 with one real intention: to ride Britain’s narrow winding roads with my brother who had, by that point, been riding for years.

My first proper ride was with him in Northamptonshire. I took a train up and we did a 50km loop he knew well and it was the furthest I’d ever ridden. I wore a loose-fitting running T-shirt and shorts and trainers, a cheap helmet and a pair of safety goggles. I said to my brother: “I want to ride, but I don’t want to be a Lycra wanker like you.”

Northamptonshire is mostly flat with some rolling hills. It is often windy but I enjoyed the ride, and we stopped for coffee and passed the fields and the woodlands and churches of England. Under the great Welland Viaduct we went and, oh how much of a place you can see while riding and how you can feel every metre of the land in your legs and I thought, then, that it was a very fine way to spend a weekend.

Within weeks I bought some ill-fitting Lycra and realised Lycra with trainers looked ridiculous and so bought some Shimano SPD-SL pedals and shoes and the transformation was almost complete. I’ve never been one for navigating by foot, car or bike and so I also invested in a Wahoo Elemnt Bolt — purely so I could plot routes and follow them. That was when I became obsessed.

The 31-year-old Belgian pro, Tiesj Benoot, who joins Decathlon from Visma-Lease a Bike next year, has recently lamented cycling’s serious, data-led culture and blamed it for young riders quitting early, disillusioned with racing bicycles.

“You see talents quitting at 21 or 22 years old,” he said on the Thomas Guenter Podcast. “They started cycling as a hobby but through all these small details they lose the joy completely and get mental problems… young riders can see everything a professional does, for example, photos of people weighing their food. And I do not think that is a good trend.”

While I never had any intention or desire to race professionally, this trend Benoot speaks of is not just at the competitive level but widespread among cycling culture. As I became increasingly obsessed with data and segments and FTP and intervals I began to imitate the professionals. I watched what I ate despite having no need to.

It’s good to stay in shape, but my “peak” weight was 63kg and I’m 180cm tall, this was close to underweight. I weighed myself every morning and night, and I stopped going out on Friday and Saturday nights with friends so I could ride early in the mornings. I became increasingly lonely. Those extra watts don’t keep you company and I forgot why I started cycling to begin with.

One Sunday morning about three years ago I woke up at 6am and I hated the idea of riding. I didn’t want to get out of bed and push myself, I just wanted to sleep and go for a roast dinner and a pint and not worry about it. I wanted to stop weighing myself and fretting over every fluctuation and obsessing about my data and average speed.

When you spend most of your ride thinking about the Strava file and what it will look like and what name you’ll give it, something’s wrong. More than anything, cycling felt an obligation and one I no longer wanted to get out of bed for, the joy was gone. Perhaps this was burnout.

At first I was disappointed with myself. I felt bad that I had started my day with failure, failure to get out of bed and go do this thing I was supposed to love. But soon the habit was broken. I didn’t care anymore. My bike, by that point a Scott Foil 20, gathered dust and dirty boxer shorts. I started seeing friends for drinks again and I stopped weighing myself. I felt no need or desire to cycle beyond my commute.

Perhaps after a year, I finally wanted to ride again. I desired what I first wanted: to be outside and to take my time and to look and listen and enjoy. One Sunday, I woke up when I felt like it and got ready and went out into Essex on a favourite route of mine which took in Tawney Lane.

I left my Wahoo on the map view, and I rode easily and I looked around at the fields and churches and at the birds and biplanes. When I reached Mott Street I got out of the saddle and climbed slowly, and saw there were horses in the fields alongside the hill. I had never noticed that before. When I got home I saw my average speed was 23km/h, and that was perfect.

Two days after Christmas 2022, I woke up covered in bandages. The day before, I’d had a mechanical issue mid-sprint during a training ride and went over my handlebars at 52kph (32mph). I’d gone to A&E but spent only about five minutes there before deciding I would manage the injuries at home – possibly a mistake. What hurt most was that I had just begun a training de-load after three months of intense build-up to the Australian National Championships elite road race, which was only two weeks away.

Four days later, on New Year’s Eve, I was in my bathroom with the tumble dryer on, no fan, in the middle of the Australian summer, completing my heat acclimatisation training. Sweat dripped through my bandages and onto the blood-soaked floor. I made it to my target race, but immediately after began experiencing anxiety, a lack of energy, detachment and irritation. It didn’t feel like a temporary low; it felt like I was done with cycling. I’ve kept riding since then, but looking back, what I experienced was burnout. Context is important here. I was 37 at the time, a decent-level amateur cyclist, and working full-time as a clinical psychologist. This isn’t a story about me, but I recount that episode because it shaped my interest in burnout in elite sport, particularly in cycling.

Most people have some idea of what burnout is, but the term is often used trivially. Burnout isn’t just tired legs or a bad training block. In sports psychology, it is defined by three interlinked dimensions: a persistent sense of emotional or physical exhaustion, a reduced feeling of accomplishment, where your efforts seem to count for nothing, and a creeping sense of detachment from the sport you once loved.

In cycling, burnout can show up as declining performance, joyless racing, loss of motivation, poor sleep, flat mood, irritability, and wanting to stop altogether. However, stepping away from cycling doesn’t always mean burnout. Some riders walk away for safety, lifestyle or identity reasons, and the line between choice and collapse isn’t always clear. I was keen to find out if burnout affected professional, development and amateur riders in the same way – and whether it’s a growing trend?

Cycling’s burnout crisis

After the 2025 Tour de France, Tadej Pogačar, despite seeming to hold the cycling world in the palm of his hand, suggested he might retire after the 2028 Olympics, before his 30th birthday. Australian sprinter Caleb Ewan stepped away at the start of this season despite a new contract with Ineos Grenadiers, and more recently, Louis Kitzki, a 21-year-old Alpecin-Deceuninck development rider, retired after witnessing two fatal crashes. Before them, Tom Dumoulin, Marcel Kittel and Taylor Phinney all left the sport in their prime, citing mental and physical exhaustion.

Cycling has always been brutally demanding, but this recent wave of early exits points to something deeper. At first glance, the decision to quit may be confusing to those who envy the pro lifestyle: being paid to train and race, the sponsors, structure, and the adulation of fans. Yet those ingredients create risk, and success becomes a burden when it feels like an obligation. The modern style of racing doesn’t help. Flat-out from the flag drop, with constant attacks, endless media duties and tightly packed calendars, even the best riders may struggle to stay grounded.

I spoke to a development rider we’ll refer to as James (not his real name), who moved to France chasing the dream of turning pro and quickly realised it wasn’t for him. He spoke about how the lifestyle “cracked” him. There was no room for anything else in life bar cycling, and the bike – once an escape – became a trap. He told me how eventually he couldn’t “escape the escape”. Like Kitzki, mentioned above, James was disturbed by the risks. He told me how races halted only when no more ambulances were available, and how it was a culture in which sometimes it seemed the events mattered more than riders’ lives. James eventually stepped away and has rebuilt his love of cycling recreationally. Returning home, he noticed immediate improvements in his physical performance too: “In terms of my head directing my legs, there was loads of change,” he said.

For James, professional cycling was a toxic working environment. Short contracts, limited agency and little say over conditions often leave riders vulnerable. His story highlights how precarious the U23 and Continental tiers can be. Young athletes, often barely out of school, are thrust into high-pressure environments abroad, with language barriers, relentless competition and minimal psychological support. When being a rider becomes the primary locus of identity, setbacks aren’t just disappointments – they are existential threats.

This is where Self-Determination Theory, a model in motivation psychology, can be useful. The model identifies three key needs for sustained effort: autonomy (having choice), competence (a sense of mastery), and relatedness (belonging and connection). When these are absent, the risk of burnout rises. Development and professional teams need to grow not just talent but trust, maturity and meaning for their riders. The riders who are offered the greatest foundation for self-determination are better able and more willing to continue in the sport.

Self-determination can take many forms, and ex-pro Yanto Barker explained that, when he started cycling, he was racing his way out of poverty. He described how, for him, the pressure of the sport was less than the pressure of his early life. It is his belief that many who pursue high-level performance are also working through their own trauma, not always in a negative way. Racing gave him purpose. “I loved racing, I loved who it made me,” he told me. To avoid burnout, Yanto viewed motivation as a luxury, focused on the present and developed his approach by learning from others and working on himself. He described how burnout is often the result of “not being in the moment, and catastrophising about the future.” Since retiring in 2016, Barker has reflected on cycling as a space to think and a vehicle for problem-solving in his work as CEO of clothing company Le Col.

Jack Rootkin-Gray, in his second year at EF, draws a distinction between being burnt out and simply being unhappy with circumstances or performance. “When I’ve felt burnt out, it’s different to when I’ve felt unsatisfied,” he said. He described a period, earlier in his career, of feeling unmotivated, and how he found ways to reconnect with joy. His advice to others in a similar predicament is to “imagine you were the most motivated you could be, how much energy you would have and how much you would enjoy your job.” He described how “to get the best out of my life, I have to be having fun.” He finds small changes – turning the power meter off, trying new tech or switching routines – can help keep burnout at bay.

Amateurs also at risk

Burnout isn’t limited to the professionals. In fact, many cases occur in the amateur ranks, though they receive little attention. They may be riding purely for the love of it, but that love can be curtailed. Sometimes amateur riders push themselves harder than pros: 20-plus-hour weeks on top of a full-time job, chasing race results that only their immediate rivals notice. For some, it’s meaningful. For others, it becomes a grind – especially when life gets in the way. However, for many amateurs, stepping back can feel like failure. If your identity has over many years become wrapped up in being the ‘fit one’ or the ‘first-cat racer’, it’s hard to admit when you’re struggling. Social media magnifies this. With so many people posting ride data online, it can feel difficult to break the cycle.

Some amateurs told me how the trickle-down effect of “marginal gains” is having a corrosive effect. What once felt free now carries pro-level pressure. Toby Langstone, 32, a team-mate of mine on the Le Col race team, described it as a slippery slope: “Before you know it, you’re going on a Saturday ride or racing with people who are sleeping in oxygen tents” and “running TT tyres on your road bike during the winter” to keep your speed up. Josh Kent, 30, another team-mate, told me he has felt the need to ride for 12 to 15 hours per week just to be adequately fit to compete. For many, this creep erodes the joy, freedom and spontaneity that drew them to the bike in the first place. Tim Strickland, 30, who rides for GFTL, spoke about how acceptance and finding meaning in how you ride are the key to sustainability in the sport: “You’ve got to find your level and be happy with what that brings.”

Writing this article at the end of the amateur season, I was struck by how many people felt they were experiencing burnout in some way. Through these conversations, I have come to understand that burnout affects athletes at all levels, with different causes and implications from one rider to the next. The key to sustainability is finding a way to make riding meaningful to you. And if you do find yourself in a hole, the real challenge – and the real victory – is learning how to climb out and fall back in love with the bike again.

Burnout in cycling is real and apparently rising, but it isn’t inevitable. The pressures for amateur racers aren’t so different to those affecting pros. By listening to riders, supporting them as people as well as athletes, and fostering meaning at every level of the sport, we can build a culture where cycling becomes a microcosm of life – a place where people can find their own way to keep their passion alive.

For me, that lesson began on a bathroom floor in Australia, bandaged and broken. At the time, I thought I was done with cycling. What I’ve since learned from pros, development riders and amateurs alike is that connection, identity and joy matter as much as fitness or form. The goal is not to deny or ignore struggle, it’s to stay connected to one another in a compassionate, joyful way – even in a sport built on doling out pain to your rivals.

How to bounce back from burnout

In athletes, burnout often starts subtly: declining performance despite training, joyless racing, loss of motivation, poor sleep, flat mood and irritability. Understanding burnout requires consideration of multiple aspects of a rider’s experience. In the therapy room, I often explore four questions:

● When did you start feeling like this?

● What are you really chasing?

● Who are you if you aren’t cycling?

● When will you know that you’ve done enough?

Treatment for burnout involves the physical components of rest and recovery, but also reconnecting to meaning. Quoting the philospher Nietzsche, author Viktor Frankl wrote: “He who has a why can bear almost any how.” That line is especially potent in cycling. Sometimes the solution isn’t to stop riding but to ride differently. Let go of the numbers, try some new tech, use cycling to do your problem solving, or seek connection over competition. Perhaps we need to be willing to have seasons in life as well as in sport.

As described above, riders who reconnect with meaning – whether through competition, mastery or community – recover more fully. It could be useful to write and reflect on the above questions. And as always, prevention is better than cure.

Burn bright, don't fade away

If burnout is becoming more common in cycling, it’s not because riders are weaker. It’s because the demands have changed – and because we’re finally talking about it. So how can we protect riders at all levels from burnout?

For teams: provide mental health support as standard, not only in an emergency; create proactive cultures where honesty is rewarded, not punished; celebrate resilience and growth as well as results.

For coaches: recognise signs of demotivation early; avoid over-glorifying sacrifice; build rest into plans; focus on autonomy, purpose and living in harmony with a rider’s values, not only achieving the best performance.

For riders: stay connected; know your why - or be willing to find a new one; don’t wait until you feel broken to ask for help; try new ways to reframe cycling – make it fun, novel and engaging in whatever way you can; and remember that stepping back doesn’t necessarily mean you’re giving up.

This article was first published in the 25 September 2025 print edition of Cycling Weekly magazine – available to buy on the newsstand every Thursday (UK only) while digital versions are available on Apple News and Readly. Subscriptions through Magazine's Direct.

While live power outputs, avatars, training-plan-bar-graphs and virtual worlds keep our eyes focused on the screens in front of us when we're on our indoor trainers, we still need something to listen to.

So for Indoor Training Week we asked the CW team what fills their ears (and sometimes eyes as well) while they're spinning away in solitary confinement in their pain cave. AKA, spare bedroom or garage. From death metal to bakery programs, some of the answers below surprised us.

If it’s an easy ride, I’ll put on a podcast – ideally one long enough that it won’t finish halfway through and leave me sweatily thumbing my phone in search of something else. The trouble is, most long podcasts are intolerable. The tolerable ones tend to be the sprawling political chats on Novara Media, about how capitalism is dooming us all to eternal misery and servitude – which, by comparison, makes serving my pace-setting Zwift master feel almost liberating.

If it’s a hard session, I’ll scan Spotify for an upbeat playlist of maximally mainstream bangers. Lyrical complexity is the enemy here: the catchier the hook, the better. ‘Blinding Lights’ by The Weeknd reliably delivers a few extra watts, but without question the adrenaline-spiker par excellence is ‘Don’t Call Me Up’ by Mabel.
David Bradford, Senior editor

For a long time, trainer time was my only TV time. The garage was the only place in the house with a television, so I used my 45-minute to 1-hour sessions to catch up on The Great British Bake Off or Grey’s Anatomy. I also enjoy watching documentaries on the trainer, breaking them up over a few workouts. These days, we have a TV in the living room, so most movies and shows happen there, but I still use trainer time to watch sports or shows my wife isn’t into. For hard sessions, though, it’s just me and the Zwift or Wahoo SYSTM screen.
Anne-Marije Rook, North American editor

It’s heavy metal music for me, and the heavier the better. There’s something about the double kick drum pedal and pig-squealing vocals that really gets me in the mood. I once timed a Zwift race with my playlist so it started on the exact moment Corey Taylor screams “I push my fingers into my eyes” on Slipknot’s ‘Duality’, my cue to give it hell. I saw Slipknot live about a year ago, actually, and half expected the screen behind them to flash up and tell me my second interval effort was about to begin.
Tom Davidson, Senior writer and features coordinator

I have to listen to music when on the trainer. If I'm watching a program, or listening to a podcast that demands my attention I know I'll get distracted and drift from my target wattage. No doubt harking back to some formative nights out in the late 1990s, I usually go for dance music, easily found on the BBC Sounds app via their Dance Anthems or Pace Setter 'Sounds'.

Not only do they play some old classics (Orchid Anthems as I know them, so called thanks to many heady nights out in an old, long lost nightclub in Croydon.) but they introduce me to some new tunes that - now my clubbing days are in the distant past - I wouldn't otherwise hear. Some of these I'll then download and add to my own playlists. And I have to admit to once hitting a prescribed wattage empowered by K-pop Demon Hunters which my eight-year-old regularly forces me to listen to.
Simon Richardson, Editor

What sounds I listen to on the trainer these days depends a lot on what riding I'm planning to do on it. Something involving hard effort – a time trial or something even worse, such as Emily's Short Mix, for example – is going to require a set of tunes that are appropriately rousing. I usually go for something upbeat, melodic, punky and alternative: The Menzingers perhaps, or ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead.

For more common or garden zone two pedalling, I find the sounds are there to keep me company rather than shove me unremittingly towards the edge of my physical capabilities.

In which case it's usually going to be soulful, bluesy rock, or maybe some sort of functional health podcast – Peter Attia or Rhonda Patrick, for example – allowing me to benefit from an explanation of the exact health-giving processes that are taking place in my body as I carry them out.
James Shrubsall, Senior News & Features Writer

Aerodynamics in cycling is a tricky business. On the surface, it seems simple: smaller, smoother, strategically shaped objects move through the air more efficiently. But beyond those broad strokes, the science gets deeply complex.

Until recently, meaningful aerodynamic assessments required wind tunnels and/or sophisticated on-bike instruments, both of which are costly and time-consuming. AiRO, a Salt Lake City–based technology firm, aims to change that with an AI-powered aerodynamic analysis app that lets bike fitters optimise any rider’s position using just a few measurements, a stationary trainer, and a few photos.

Computational Fluid Dynamics (CFD) programs have long supported wind tunnel and track testing at the WorldTour and Olympic level, but they rely on detailed 3D scans and long processing times to build digital avatars.

AiRO replaces those scans with AI-driven photo analysis, cutting turnaround to minutes. Most importantly, it makes quantitative aerodynamic testing available to a much broader audience.

To understand how it works, I met the team behind AiRO and went through the fitting process myself. Here’s what I learned and how many watts I was able to save.

AiRO background: Specialized and speed skating

AiRO is the brainchild of Ingmar Jungnickel, an award-winning aerodynamicist with a long history in cycling aerodynamics. His expertise was honed during his years at Specialized, where he served as one of the company’s lead aerodynamicists.

“I had the keys to the wind tunnel and Specialized really encouraged open exploration as well,” Jungnickel, a self-described aero-nerd, said. “I did that quite a lot in the first couple of years. I would stay late after work with a bunch of the other aero friends.

“We'd order pizza and we just test ourselves for another four, five hours. At the other tunnels, where you pay per hour, you just don't try crazy things. You're like, ‘This test is going to cost us $600, do I really want to test this?’”

Specialized, during their “Aero is Everything” era, was all for this unstructured wind-tunnel tinkering. In fact, it all played a part in the innovation around vaunted tech like the Specialized Shiv, Venge and various iterations of the Tarmac. Functionally, this also enabled Jungnickel to complete the full bell curve of aerodynamic understanding.

“First, you get into this phase where you realise how your aero is structured. So the simple models. Then you realised those models don't really work – everybody is different. Then, when you test even more, at some point, you start seeing more of the correlations, but it takes a lot of testing to get to that point.”

After his nearly nine years with Specialized, Jungnickel went on to speedskating in support of the US national speedskating team. And this is where AiRo was born. His AiRO app was first developed for use by the U.S. Speed Skating team in preparation for the 2026 Winter Olympic Games. His results with the speed skating team were so good that he was able to spin off that app to a public technology, bringing AI aero modelling to the public.

But rather than focusing on speedskating, Jungnickel returned to his roots, developing an app for high-end bike fitters and performance coaches, including WorldTour clients, to model and test rider positions for aerodynamic optimisation.

“We chose to work with high-end bike fitters only because you can try whatever you want in the app,” he said. “You can bend the digital twin into any position. And we want you to have the best position, not just the lowest drag position."

Even though a professional bike fit can seem expensive, it’s a mere fraction of the cost of aerodynamic wind tunnel testing. To bring a bike fit expert to a wind tunnel and run two hours of testing typically costs $2,000-$2,500. While the wind tunnel can test equipment that AiRO can’t, AiRO can account for testing everything else—including helmets—for a fee well under $500 in a similar session.

What’s more, all those non-equipment-related factors AiRO tests for account for roughly 60-75% of the total aero equation.

“If you run the dollar spent per improvement, we're seeing 20 to 30 watt average improvements from aero testing, and that is for a few hundred dollars," said Jungnickel.

"Wind tunnel testing is still a great return on investment with a $2,000 session, which is actually money well spent. But now we can offer a similar service for $200.”

A focus on body position, not equipment

I received my AiRO bike fit at a co-working space in Tempe, Arizona. Jungnickel flew in to meet with Brian Stover, an independent aerodynamic expert and bike fitter with over a decade of experience. Stover is one of the first fitters to have access to the AiRO technology. I was one of their guinea pigs.

“First, we will look at reach and stack,” Stover explained as I started pedalling on a trainer. “How you're holding your head, how you're riding the bike, do you tend to have your elbows out, or do you tend to ride with them in? Do you tend to have your hands this way to bring your elbows in? How are your shoulders looking? Are you rounded? Are you like squeezing your shoulders up? Are you relaxed?

“That's where you need to start to build out the rest of the fine-tuning.”

Stover says the AiRO app has made his aero-specific fits a lot more effective for one key reason: it offers a massive head start to the complicated process of personal aero optimisation.

“This is a way to pre-screen some of those basic tests that you might do to narrow down the options in the wind tunnel, because if you're charging people $12-15 a minute, you don't want to get in there and test everything under the sun. You need to have a pretty definitive list of what you want to test and how you want to test it.

“Using this app is a way to reduce some of those variables beforehand, so maybe you're limited to three or four positional changes that you already know have a higher probability of working.”

To achieve all this, it starts with a photo to get a parametric human model. That, along with a few body measurements such as weight and height, is entered into the app. Then, it's a short wait to get the “virtual twin,” which is the basis for the rest of the modelling to come.

As we mentioned earlier in the article, there are other CFD models that WorldTour teams and Olympic programs use; they just require full 3D body scans and extensive manual corrections to be effective. The picture-based AI software allows AiRO to use 4,000 different adjustment points to get a precise representation of the rider’s body contours and produce more robust data with much less manual input.

After that, it's up to the rider to show their baseline position on the bike, take photos from the side and from the front, and recreate that with the digital twin in the app. That position is the first simulation that runs on the most powerful supercomputer AiRO can rent. 15 minutes later, the simulation is done, and the adjustments can begin.

“That is where the app begins to do its work and the magic starts happening,” Jungnickel said when the time came to start playing around with models and simulations. “We can do iterations purely on the digital twin, and that takes 30 seconds for each variation to build, and it takes seven minutes to run.”

The AiRO testing and fitting

At this point, all the setup was wrapped up, and it was Stover’s time to shine.

Unfortunately, my personal road bike, a Haro Rivette, has an integrated cockpit, so the changes we could make were always going to be limited. Most of the changes would come from the seat and from the few spacers we had to work with at the front end of the bike.

“First of all, you're looking to optimise aerodynamics by reducing drag, right?” Stover said when getting me started. “So if I can shave 10-12 watts of drag off without causing you any decrease in power, then suddenly you're now roughly 1 second per kilometre faster and nothing else has changed.

“Then, I put you into a position where you're comfortable, aero, and you can still put out the power, so we reduce drag and we can increase power a little bit, and/or increase comfort. Then you can put out five watts more, but you also reduce drag by 10 watts, so you’re gaining from both ends.”

Generally, I am not picky when it comes to bike fits; it is a by-product of hopping on different setups for work and constantly switching between road, gravel and mountain bikes. I thought my position was fairly neutral. My stem isn’t slammed, but it only ever has 1 or 2 5mm spacers underneath, and I typically hover around 120mm stem length.

What was immediately apparent was that this wasn’t the right setup to optimise around aerodynamics. And finally, there was concrete data to back it up.

What really underscored the fault of this approach was positioning my digital twin in a position that was equivalent to riding in the drops. Ideally, this position would have a lower CDA (the aerodynamic term for the drag of an object) than the standard baseline position of riding in the hoods. In reality, it was worse.

Ideally, at this point in the fit, he would have swapped stems, and we’d be off. But with a one-piece integrated cockpit that wasn’t an option, it was noted for a future change. There were still things we could do to find aero gains within the constraints of the bike’s position. And that was where I found the AiRO app to be the most impactful.

Finding dozens of watts of aero gains

Using the virtual twin as my guide, we began tinkering with different elements of my body position within the set constraints of the front of the bike. Using Stover and Jungnickel’s insight as a guide, we looked at my forearm bend, head position, and how my shoulders contoured as the main points of change. We then took these changes from my virtual twin to my position on the trainer, using it as a guide for me to try different things and report back what seemed beneficial.

Throughout this process, I pushed my saddle forward and tilted the nose down, giving me greater ability to pivot my hips and adjust my hands and shoulders. That, in turn, let me move my forearms down to a parallel position with the ground, and really drop my head between my shoulders. Matching the virtual twin to that position then gave us the data we were really hoping for: when the going gets really important, just how many watts can I save at race pace?

After running the full simulation, these were the main conclusions the AiRO app was able to establish:

“Starting from his baseline position of 0.271 m², we systematically tested five configurations, keeping bike coordinates constant while making meaningful body position changes,” read my final fit analysis that was sent to me after the test.

The results were striking: while adding a helmet marginally increased drag to 0.273 m² (costing 1 watt), lowering hand position proved significantly worse at 0.277 m² (costing 5 watts).

"The lower hands position was particularly instructive: despite seeming aerodynamic, it exposed more arm surface area, and since the arms account for roughly 25% of total drag, this single change significantly compromised overall efficiency.

Then came the breakthrough positions: the aero tuck dropped CdA to 0.237 m², saving 28 watts at 40 km/h, while the lower head position achieved 0.228 m²—a remarkable 15.8% reduction from baseline.

“At 40 km/h over a 40km time trial, the lower head position saves 173 seconds (nearly 3 minutes) and 37 watts compared to baseline, or close to 6 minutes over an Ironman bike leg.”

Now, that optimal position is not a position I can hold for a long time. Twenty minutes, max. Yet, that’s not the goal. Since this isn’t for time trials, it is more important to have an A and B position, one more aggressive, one more relaxing, to give me the best mix of sustainable power and overall aerodynamics. All of this is easy to test and reinforce with the system. There are also elements, like dropping my head, that I can do at any point to stack seconds gained across a race day.

For me, a huge takeaway beyond those positional insights was what it meant for future purchasing decisions. A 130-140mm stem is certainly on the short-term list, but it could be more than that. My next bike will likely be a 58cm frame and not a 56cm frame. Or, counterintuitively, I might need to find the right all-road bike rather than an aero bike to get into the aero-optimised position. Soon, I will also be able to model different helmets in the app, without even trying them on, to make sure I am getting the right one for my body without having to buy multiples and then test them later.

“You can become much more aggressive with your position, and you can trade a little bit of comfort for some power or some drag reductions,” Stover said, “but you can't do that with an Iron Man or gravel. So you really have to think about this as reducing drag, but also increasing comfort at the same time, and increasing power.”

Overall, my bike fit fell short of its full potential, partly from my bike’s limitations and partly due to my inability to hold that optimised position for long periods of time. The fit was also conducted on a road bike rather than on a time trial, which is where I spend most of my solo riding time and where fit data tends to be more impactful. In retrospect, bringing my gravel bike in might have been more effective. However, with bike handling more important off-road, I am more hesitant to completely optimize around aerodynamics on gravel.

Still, many of the insights can be transferred, especially in key moments when I am road racing and I do hit the front. It is all concrete to me in a way it has never been before.

You can read my full AiRO report here!

Cycling is full of rites of passage, whether it’s falling over sideways outside a crowded pub garden in clipless pedals or, on a more positive note, riding your first century. Somewhere along the line, you're also likely to experience the bonk for the first time. Often memorable but never fun, it's a need for food, or sugary drink, that goes way beyond hunger or thirst – rather, it's a feeling of having been hollowed out and completely drained of energy.

The usual remedy involves repairing to the nearest garage forecourt and consuming your bodyweight in confection and sugary drinks. Once you’ve experienced it, you’re unlikely to forget the importance of fuelling your riding – and what happens when we don't consume enough. The idea for sufficient energy is obvious enough, but there is a vast array of options on where exactly that energy comes from. Should we choose 'real' food – bananas, home-made flapjacks and the like – or pre-packaged sports nutrition, gels and powdered drinks?

Some riders stick rigidly to a fuelling plan, at least for certain sessions. But if, like me, that just sounds too much like being organised, your reality is probably closer to simply grabbing whatever is at hand. There's a banana in the fruit bowl? Great. One last gel in the pack? Lovely – into the back pocket it goes. Just to complicate matters, modern nutrition science is calling into question how exactly to classify foods as ‘real’ or not.

If you're planning to fuel your ride with multiple petrol station forays, a lot of what you might be stocking up on has come to be known as UPF – ultra-processed foods. This is the sort of stuff that has long lists of ingredients, many of which are a far cry from anything you'll find in your kitchen. This type of food comes in a packet, and is increasingly being implicated in global health concerns (see panel) – and can’t be considered ‘real’ in any meaningful sense. The same goes for almost all sports fuel products: they fall under the UPF umbrella too.

There are, of course, different reasons for choosing one type of fuel over another – among which health is only one. Expense is certainly one of the chief reasons riders might choose non-sports food. With gels costing between £1.50-£2 each, even when bought in bulk, the outlay quickly mounts. In its favour, sports fuel is widely regarded as the most efficient way to deliver high energy loads rapidly into your bloodstream, which might mean you consider it a worthwhile expense.

Ida Bergsløkken is a performance nutritionist and former performance chef at EF Education-EasyPost who advocates using both real and sports nutrition in combination. "I see real food as super important as a baseline for everyone, whether you're a top-level [athlete] or an amateur," Bergsløkken says. "Everyone needs a certain amount of micronutrients and with sports food, you're just thinking about carbs, proteins and fat – you're not necessarily getting the magnesium, zinc, B-vitamins, etc, that you need.”

On the issue of sports fuel being classified as ultra-processed, Bergsløkken emphasises that most of the food we eat should be unequivocally real. "Everyone should make a bigger effort to prepare meals using real food,” she says, “and then the [relatively small quantity of ultra-processed] sports nutrition in itself wouldn't really be a problem." For hard training, Bergsløkken advises that it is hard to beat dedicated sports nutrition for getting energy to the muscles as efficiently as possible.

"If you do a hard interval session, you’d not want to be trying to eat a flapjack. You would want a drink or gel. If it’s once or twice a week, its being ultra-processed is not an issue. The problem comes if you consume lots of sports drinks and gels, and then don't eat proper food at home. If you only eat fast food meals, then you're in for really big trouble."

That trouble, explains Bergsløkken, may manifest in the form of sub-optimal mitochondrial health. Mitochondria are the powerhouses of the cells and crucial in athletic performance. Too many UPFs may also result in a lack of vitamins and magnesium, and the antioxidants that help buffer training stress. That’s not to say the occasional takeaway spells disaster. "In the end, what you do most is what's going to matter," says the nutritionist.

As most cyclists know, taste fatigue on long rides can be a real problem. After four or five hours of hoovering up the sweet stuff, many riders find themselves desperate for something savoury. This is why pro riders are often supplied not just with gels and drinks but also with savoury rice cakes or paninis. Someone who is used to prescribing fuel for the longest rides is endurance nutritionist Jill Mooney (BarrUltra.com), who concisely says, "the fastest way to a DNF is through the gut." Though some of the riders Mooney works with do use gels and bars, she is a strong advocate of real foods, both on and off the bike.

"The meals at home are nutrition," says Mooney, "and the food on the bike is fuel." What is her fuel of choice for on the bike? "You can carry a few little croissants and sandwiches, but keep it simple. Jam, butter, ham, it doesn't matter – you just want simple food that you know works for you. A banana is just a gel in a skin – it's about 30g of carbohydrate. Any chocolate bar will do – as long as it doesn't melt, and holds form in your pocket." Mooney takes a similar stance on pre-made cereal bars: "Find a bar that works for you. Any bar will do, any kind of muesli bar," she says.

Mooney makes reference to her husband Joe Barr, the veteran Northern Irish ultra-distance racer, former RAAM age category winner and World Ultra Cycling Association champion. In Joe’s multi-day epic rides, Mooney explains, he needs energy delivered at a slower and very sustainable rate – 30-40g of carbohydrate per hour, compared to the 60-90g/hr prescribed for high-intensity sessions.

Eating for recovery

Beyond fuelling rides, nutrition also has an impact on the improvements we make afterwards while recovering off the bike. This is an area where 'real' foods are as effective, if not more so, than sports products, although you still need to think about what you're eating. "Recovery starts with how well you fuelled your ride,” says Mooney. “If you're coming in really depleted, in a hole, that's a different recovery from getting home after having fuelled your ride well.”

In either case, "the first thing you want to do is give your body a little bit of easy to access carb and a little bit of protein." Mooney recommends standard, shop-bought 1% fat chocolate milk. "If you can handle dairy, it's brilliant," she says. "It has a three-to-one ratio of carbohydrate to protein." After a hard training ride, Barr downs some chocolate milk, has a shower, then tucks into a simple wholefood meal such as a tuna sandwich.

Bergsløkken is also a fan of wholefood recovery meals: "Instead of a protein shake, egg-fried rice is really simple. You can even pre-cook the rice before your ride, then just fry once you get back. Add the eggs with maybe some onions and peppers and some spinach, and then you have a meal made in five minutes.” It’s not only simple, but nutritionally optimal too. “The carbs are easily absorbed and, made with three or four eggs, you have around 20 grams of protein."

Both of our experts come from different areas of cycle sport, but there is one thing they agree on: the importance of real, whole food meals away from the bike. Neither shies away from recommending ultra-processed options as on-bike fuel, believing that any potentially harmful effects are mitigated by a good off-bike diet.

In the end, fixating on whether to fuel with gels or flapjacks during your ride misses the bigger picture. Both have their place, and neither will make or break your performance on their own. What matters more is the quality of your everyday diet. A nutrient-dense, wholefood approach off the bike has a greater long-term impact on your training, recovery and long-term health than any mid-ride snack ever could.

Ultra-processed – but is it ultra-harmful?

Thanks to high-profile doctors such as Chris Van Tulleken, TV presenter and author of Ultra Processed People, ultra-processed food – UPF – is on more people’s radar than ever before. Research has shown it is seriously implicated in societal health issues, with campaigners calling for tighter regulations and even bans.

The globally recognised Nova food classification defines UPF as follows: "Industrially manufactured food products made up of several ingredients… Processes and ingredients here are designed to create highly profitable, convenient, tasteful alternatives to [less processed foods]."

So which foods are considered UPFs? The usual suspects, biscuits, crisps, ready meals and confectionary, but also some you might not suspect, including supermarket bread and putatively healthy fat-free flavoured yoghurts. In South America, Chile, Brazil and Colombia have all moved to regulate UPF, with policies including black 'Stop' octagons on food packaging, taxation and bans in schools – the latter followed by Spain too.

A key argument against UPF is that it is highly engineered, from packaging to flavour to 'mouth feel', to be moreish – essentially, making it easy to ingest far more calories than you might if eating whole foods. More overeating means more profits for UPF makers. The safety of some ingredients is also being called into question.

A study by Naimi, Viennois, Gewirtz et al in the journal Microbiome demonstrated that some emulsifiers – an ingredient found widely in ultra-processed foods including low-fat yoghurts and bread, can adversely affect the all-important gut microbiome. The hazards of UPF are still being grappled with, and we can expect it to climb to the top of the health agenda in the coming years.

DIY energy drink

Want to save the pennies? Fuel like the tightest northerner at CW…

If you like the idea of the efficiency of dedicated sports fuel but are put off by the expense, you could try making your own – the preferred approach of CW’s group art editor Daniel Baines. He regularly rides long distances, both on and off-road, and makes his own drinks using maltodextrin and table sugar.

"I wouldn't say I'm an expert on this – it's more about me being too tight to splash out on energy drink," Dan jokes. "I bought maltodextrin at £8 for 2kg, which I mix 50/50 with table sugar and then add some electrolyte mix – hot water makes it mix well – then I'll add some squash to flavour it."

Dan finds this combination of sugars easier on his gut than the maltodextrin and fructose mix usually found in sports drinks. One of the advantages of making your own energy drink recipe is that you can adjust it to suit the distance or intensity you plan to ride. "I try to plan for intensity, and weigh it out," Dan says. "I know I can put up with about 90 grams per hour, but I rarely ride at this intensity now – 50 grams an hour is more suitable for my longer, steadier rides.” He adds: "If I know there are water replenishment places, I’ll take a bottle of really concentrated mix, which I then divide with a full bottle of water. I can get about 300 grams in a 500ml bottle, which lasts about six hours.”

His verdict on taking the DIY route? "It just makes sense financially. For any 'A' races I'll use a commercially made sports drink, just for peace of mind. But for a four-hour Sunday ride pottering along, I don't need to spend a fortune."

The biggest turnoff for me when it comes to indoor riding is the faff of setup. Even with the best indoor smart trainer and being fortunate enough to have a dedicated bike set up on the trainer for the whole of indoor season, it's the digital aspect that sends me barmy.

My daughter's tablet is the only piece of tech at home capable of running an online platform (thanks to work laptop firewalls and security settings), so between negotiating with her to use it, then the inevitable 'software update' that seems to haunt me for every session, I'm often in a bad mood before I've turned a pedal let alone even thought about what session Im going to ride.

So imagine my joy at being offered a purpose-made bike, with a screen that works on the flick of a switch. Could the new Echelon EX-5s become one of the best exercise bikes for me?

Construction

When it comes to exercise bikes, there are several points of construction to consider, not only the bike's design but also the software platform it uses. I've broken these features into chunks to make it easier to digest:

Construction:

The bike itself is primarily made from robust, heavy-duty, powder-coated welded steel. This prevents rust and corrosion from sweat and sports drinks; however, it also makes the Echelon EX-5s exceptionally heavy. In the box, it was stamped with a 60kg load, but once set up (more on that shortly), Echelon says it weighs around 56.5 kg / 124 lb, with 13 kilograms of the weight attributed to the flywheel at the rear of the bike.

The handlebars are made from the same powder-coated steel and feature a typical 'spin bike' design. This provides several hand position options, depending on your comfort with in and out of the saddle.

At the front of the bike is a plastic bottle holder mounted under the handlebars, capable of holding two bottles of any size thanks to its deep and long design.

At the rear is a metal, plastic-coated dumbbell rack. This is an optional extra for the Echelon EX-5s bike, allowing you to purchase the official weights or use your own; however, it limits weights to just 2 lbs / 1 kg.

Unlike the Peloton bike, the Echelon EX-5s does not have automatic resistance. Instead, this is controlled by the rider via a manual-indexed knob that adjusts the magnetic resistance on the flywheel between levels 1-32.

Measurements and limits

The overall footprint of the bike is approximately two meters long by at least 150 centimeters high. Width-wise, the support feet, which have large rubberised pads on the soles, span 50cm across. These measurements (specifically height and length) would be at the extreme as there is adjustability on the saddle and bar, but I would consider allowing for these numbers, before you buy, when planning a location at home for the Echelon EX-5s.

Your comfort on the bike can be refined by setting the four adjustment points just right. The saddle moves up/down by ten inches (17 adjustment settings) and forwards/backwards by four inches; and the handlebars: up/down by 6 inches and forwards/backwards by three inches. The screen is actually mounted on a spur of the bars, so it will move up and down with the bar height, but can be flipped over 180degrees when using for off-bike workouts.

According to Echelon, this should work for riders ranging between heights of 4'5" - 6'8 to use and up to a weight of 136 kg / 300 lb.

Q Factor or, essentially, the gap between your legs when pedalling

The pedals attach to crank arms, to spin the flywheel on an exercise bike and this one is no different. They measure 170mm here which is pretty normal and comparable to a road bike. The Q factor, however, the distance between the outside faces of the crank arms, measures 204mm, which is considerably wider.

Road bikes pedals are typically around 160mm apart, a mountain bike, usually 170mm, with even a hybrid bike falling somewhere in between. This will mean a wider stance than you might be used to if you're expecting this to feel like a regular outdoor bike.

When cross-referencing the Peloton bike, which, like a mountain bike, has a 170mm distance between the cranks, the Echelon EX-5s will feel much wider when pedalling.

Screen

The screen on the Echelon EX-5s is a large 21.5" high definition touchscreen, which, once logged in, will enable the rider to access classes and workouts via a tap of the screen. If you are participating in an off bike workout, it neatly flips 180° to make it easy to see and use. However, again, another thing to bearing in mind when deciding where the bike should live at home.

Echelon digital platform

As with almost every exercise bike these days, the Echelon EX-5s has its own digital platform, Echelon Fit. It's worth noting that, like any indoor bike, the EX-5s is intrinsically linked to the brand's online world of classes and virtual riding, which usually comes at an extra, and usually monthly, cost.

Echelon says that it is possible to use the bike without committing to a subscription via the 'Freestyle' mode, but workout statistics and other information will not be stored.

If you want those features, membership prices vary depending on the length of your commitment, with the cheapest access option ranging from £19.99 / $TBC for two years upfront to £29.99 / $TBC for monthly payments.

This price includes more than just a spin class; it offers everything from live and recorded bike classes, yoga, meditation, and strength sessions to recorded images of famous mountain climbs, such as the Alpe d'Huez or Mont Ventoux. However, as mentioned above, none of the resistances are auto-adjusted.

There is also a newer FitOS platform, which enables access to a variety of online apps, such as entertainment (Netflix, Amazon Prime, YouTube, Spotify, etc), news, social media, and the Echelon World. This last app draws inspiration from platforms like Zwift, letting you race others in a VR world.

The benefit here is that it makes the Echelon EX-5s resemble a smart bike more closely, and the brand claims it will auto-adjust resistance when used with a programme that supports it. This feature is included free with the premium membership, and with up to five members on one plan, it could be an ideal option for a family.

The ride

Bike performance

The bike itself is solid. The large, tacky rubber pads under the wide feet do a really good job of securing the bike to the floor, even when you are out of the saddle or spinning at a fast cadence. I have the bike on a tiled floor and find it hasn't traveled across the floor at all, which has happened to me with both a turbo trainer and rowing machine.

The overall riding position will be more comfortable for some than others. Having moved all adjustment points to replicate as close as possible my natural road riding position, I still find even with the saddle setback at full extension that my feet are forward of my hips, and the wide Q-factor is also noticeable, and slightly odd feeling. This should not bother you at all if you're not used to riding on the road of course, but if you're expecting that outdoor style experience or position, and are used to it, you will notice.

I'm comfortable enough with 45-minute maximum ride times, but wouldn't want to use it for a long endurance ride, especially when clipped in. The saddle, like most exercise bikes, has been enlarged in volume and size. It's not the worst saddle I've ever sat on, but I would prefer options of small, medium, or large when purchasing to improve longer ride comfort.

In theory, you could replace both the saddle and pedals with your own choices. The saddle rail mount is a curious design, and you'll need to ensure compatibility with other options. However, changing the pedals is easier, which could help reduce the Q factor somewhat. The pedals work with Shimano's SPD style cleats, or you can use toe cages to secure your feet if you prefer that feeling, or just use them like flat pedals, with no foot retention.

Sharing the bike between riders is easy; just remember the adjustment setting number you prefer. I do have a slight 'ick' as these numbers don't really relate to anything, coming in half-inch spacing, but it's a minor thing once you know what it is. My only other gripe here is that the numbers for the Saddle height are all on the right-hand side, making it tricky to see if the bike's home location is closer to the wall on that side, as mine is. Adding the decals to both sides really wouldn't have blown the manufacturing budget.

When on and riding the machine, the bike feels very smooth. The red adjustment knob is easy to turn, and its bright colourway makes it visible in your peripheral vision, making it simple to reach for a resistance change.

There is a slight time lag of about a second between turning the knob and the resistance changing, but other than in over or under loading moments, while the electric magnetic resistance kicks in, it doesn't really cause an impact.

For most riders, the 32 resistance levels will be enough. I was up towards the high twenties a couple of times during rides and could still pedal at around 60rpm. I suspect that if you're a particularly strong rider, the hardest resistance will bottom out before you do, but it will still make you breathe hard and your legs sting, which is what really matters.

The issue becomes more noticeable when riding in FitOS World mode, where the resistance is automatically adjusted. I honestly thought it wasn't functioning for a long time until I realised it was set so lightly, it barely felt active. I need to spend more time with the bike to figure out if I can adjust these settings, and I will also contact Echelon since this really undermines the feature.

It's important to note that the Echelon EX-5s is a smart exercise bike, not a smart bike or home trainer. If you're seeking an experience closest to outdoor riding, there are better options available. However, if you're looking for a low-impact exercise that you can do at home, this bike is a great choice.

Echelon screen and digital platform performance

The digital interface is the key feature that distinguishes many exercise bikes. The screen on the Echelon EX-5s is incredibly clear and large enough for me to use without my glasses, something I struggle with on my phone or bike computer nowadays.

The screen responds to finger taps for menu selections, and the digital Echelon Fit platform responds swiftly, which makes a huge difference for me. Watching a spinning wheel on a computer is one of the most frustrating aspects of modern technology, and it drives me nuts that indoor cycling apps seem to do this every time you try to use them.

The only downside of the touchscreen is that, even after just a handful of rides, I can already see my fingerprints all over it. You'll need to give it a wipe down after each workout, as is hygienic anyway. It wouldn't have hurt for them to include something for that purpose.

So far, the Echelon has been responsive and often ready to ride before I am, which is incredibly refreshing and motivates me to keep coming back to this stress-free way of riding.

I've not used the bike for weeks on end yet, but so far I've worked my way through a good selection of recorded and live classes, which I've found fun, and even dabbled with the ride experience options.

The classes are the same format as a spin class: an instructor on the screen telling you what to do. The difference is that this time there's no cheating. Your resistance level is shown at the bottom of the screen, along with cadence and power data; heart rate would also display here if you had a compatible monitor. The instructor indicates what resistance rating and cadence to hit throughout the class, and you're encouraged to do it. Occasionally, I missed this instruction, but thankfully, I was never named and shamed.

Personally, I found the classes fun. They are kitsch and cheesy, much like real spin studios can be, but as long as you approach them with the right attitude, then you'll also leave each workout in a good mood, having done some serious pedalling and worked up a good sweat.

There is a leaderboard slideout, which, according to Echelon, 'calculates percentiles using averages from users who have completed similar workouts', and it can give you a reference of where you stand with other Echelon riders. I find leaderboards a bit hit-or-miss for my motivation, depending on the direction of the numbers. So, when I was unimpressed with my riding performance, I just swiped it off the screen and just enjoyed the ride.

So far, I've paid zero attention to power data. I've found that I've been so focused on listening to resistance numbers and cadence in class that I've forgotten to even glance at the watts my legs are putting out.

The ride experience, which lets you choose to ride up a famous mountain or through an area like Tuscany, left me wanting more. It's like riding with Google Street View vision, and without auto-resistance, you're left to apply your own, with your cadence either moving you along faster or slower. Echelon needs to decide what it wants to do with this feature, as it feels like a letdown compared to classes . In my opinion, it would be better to remove it altogether until it can truly improve the ride features.

The other area that needs improvement is the Echelon FitOS World. It's still early days for this part of the brand's platform, and it has the potential to compete with some of the cycling app giants. However, it's not quite there yet, so lower expectations if you're hoping for a Zwift Wattopia style experience (for now).

Post rides, you can analyse your stats via the Echelon members portal, where you can get an overview of everything from a year to a day. Each session can be examined in detail, allowing you to see a breakdown of your workout statistics.

Value and conclusion

The Echelon EX-5s is more than just a Marmite bike of loving or loathing; some people, like me, will fall somewhere in the middle — really appreciating the added value it can bring into the home, but still seeing room for improvement.

Looking at alternatives on the market, the EX-5s can truly go toe-to-toe with the Peloton, and nothing else in the exercise bike market even comes close.

The positioning could use a slight adjustment; I'd like to see everything angled forward a bit more and the digital platform is nearing perfection, but isn't quite there yet.

The resistance could benefit from some recalibration to prevent riders from spinning out, especially since being new to riding doesn't mean you aren't strong, particularly in the auto-adjust feature of FitOS Worlds.

Overall, this product is currently about 20% cheaper than Peloton for the bike itself. While the monthly membership costs are similar across the two brands, the Echelon membership covers up to five profiles, offering excellent value for money if your household takes full advantage.

Would I buy one? Probably not. Would I encourage my family members who don't have confidence to ride outside or to have a gym membership? Absolutely yes.

Specifications

• Bike constructon - Powder-coated welded steel.
• Dimensions - 52"L x 20"W x 50"H
• Weight: 56.5 kg / 124 lb
• Flywheel: 13 kg rear placement
• Resistance: 1–32 levels manual magnetic resistance
• Max user weight: 136 kg / 300 lb
• User height range: 4'5" - 6'8"
• Adjustability: Seat: 10” up/down, 4” forwards/backwards; Handlebars: 6" up/down, 3" forwards/backwards
• Display: 21.5" HD touchscreen flips 180° for off-equipment workouts
• Pedals: SPD-compatible clips + Adjustable toe cages
• Extras: Rear-mounted dumbbell holders, two water bottle holders

If like us you're spending more time on the turbo then keep an eye on the CW website this week for all the indoor training content you need to make the most of winter. We've been tidying up our paincaves now that winter is homing into view as there's no need to back off our riding just because here in the northern hemisphere the daylight hours are getting shorter and shorter.

Throughout indoor training week we'll be posting up to date content about the products and platforms we use and test, along with expert training and riding advice from coaches and pro riders.

Plus, we are relaunching the Cycling Weekly club ten! Every Wednesday evening at 6pm (UK time) our ten mile time trial runs on Zwift. After 275 events on five regular courses, we're switching to six new courses. This week's event will be on the Bon Voyage course in France before we move onto Countryside Tour, Loch Loop in Scotland, Jurassic Coast in Watopia, Waisted 8 and Gentil 8.

That means six new course records are waiting to be set and the current ones will be left untouched. Each week the results are printed in CW magazine, with times taken from www.zwiftpower.com.

Whether or not you're new to indoor training, here's some of our articles, from buying to training advice and lots more besides.

Indoor training buying advice

• Best smart trainers - Our guide to the latest turbo trainers
• Best exercise bikes - From budget to fully connected machines
• How to get set up on Zwift - all the kit you need to get up and running.
• Budget trainers - How to get set up without the cost
• Rollers versus trainers - Which one is best for your?

Indoor training advice

• Indoor / outdoor riding - how to strike the balance
• Riding position - should your indoor position mirror your road riding position
• A winter indoors - how one rider faired heading out on the road after four months
• Extreme indoor riding - how some riders are pushing the limits
• My training space - check out some amazing CW reader paincaves

Cycling has, since the Team Sky era, been associated with so-called marginal gains, but the rise of ‘biohacking’ takes the envelope-pushing to new extremes. From glucose sensors to DNA tests, today’s riders are experimenting with science, tech and sometimes sheer gimmickry in pursuit of an edge. Some methods are grounded in physiology, others in hype – and separating the two isn’t always easy. We break down the most talked-about hacks, and ask if they’re best avoided or actually worth a try.

Blood flow restriction (BFR) training

What it is: If you’ve scrolled through Instagram reels of athletes training with thick straps wrapped tightly around their limbs, you’ve probably seen blood flow restriction (BFR) in action. It involves using specialised cuffs or bands to partially limit blood flow to working muscles during exercise.

How it works: “BFR works by creating a hypoxic environment – much like altitude or high-intensity training – which triggers hormonal responses, boosts capillary density, and sharpens neuromuscular signalling,” explains Andy Page, strength and conditioning coach with PureSportsMedicine. By restricting oxygen to type I fibres, a rider upregulates aerobic enzymes while also recruiting type II fibres earlier.

Why it’s trending: Among elite cyclists, BFR has evolved from a niche recovery tool to an established part of structured training. “I started using BFR for recovery – flushing out muscles and getting nutrients into cells,” explains Joe Truman, Team GB track sprinter who uses Hytro BFR equipment. “Over time, it developed into a hypertrophy [muscle growth] tool. As a sprinter, muscle mass is a big deal, so BFR became a huge part of my gym work. If I do a BFR primer in the morning, my lactic endurance in the evening session is noticeably better.”

Be aware of the risks: Done incorrectly, BFR can raise the risk of blood clots, nerve damage or even serious muscle injury. “BFR raises vascular resistance and afterload, which may drive heart adaptations that improve pumping capacity and oxygen delivery,” says Professor Jose Calbet, physical education specialist at the University of Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, Spain. “But the evidence is still limited. BFR may also trigger adaptations in electrolyte handling, which could help delay fatigue, though more research is needed, especially in elite athletes.”

Should you use it? “The benefit may be higher for lower-tier cyclists than in elite riders who have less room for improvement,” adds Calbet. “Nonetheless, VO2max may be improved in elite cyclists with BFR – but we lack information regarding the effects in the very best cyclists.”

BFR isn’t just for sprinters – it may boost endurance too. “Normally, you need really hard sessions to get big endurance gains,” says Page. “With BFR, you can get those same benefits at lower intensity and with less time on the bike. Studies show riders using BFR improved their VO2max by 6% and could ride 15% longer before fatigue compared to those training without it.”

Cold plunge therapy

What it is: Cold therapy comes in two main forms: whole-body cryotherapy (WBC), which involves stepping into a subzero chamber for two to four minutes, and cold-water immersion (CWI), which means dipping into 10-15°C water for up to 15 minutes.

How it works: “Cryotherapy reduces post-exercise soreness and perceived effort in later sessions,” says Dr Laura Wilson, exercise scientist with the London Sport Institute. “It’s been shown to reduce delayed onset muscle soreness (DOMS), lower perceived exertion in subsequent training, and may also dampen the inflammatory response linked to exercise-induced muscle damage.”

Why it’s trending: Tour de France winner Tadej Pogačar uses ice pools after hot stages – more for the psychological boost than the physical benefit. “Cold plunges may also sharpen the mind,” suggests sports psychologist Tom Haines, pointing out that enduring something uncomfortable builds resilience that carries into training.

Be aware of the risks: Rapid immersion can cause shock, hypothermia, or even cardiac arrest, especially in those with underlying conditions. Timing is also key: overusing ice baths may blunt the inflammation needed for adaptation.

Should you use it? “The benefits may apply across levels, depending on the intensity of the workout,” says Wilson. “If a cyclist completed a session that was of a higher intensity or longer duration than normal, they would likely experience increased soreness. By utilising cryotherapy after the training session, these symptoms could be attenuated.”

DNA-based training and nutrition

What it is: Fitness companies now offer genetic testing kits claiming to personalise workouts, recovery needs, and even carb tolerance.

How it works: “Genes are sections of your DNA that tell your body how to grow, repair, and adapt. Everyone has the same ‘exercise genes’,” explains Dr Henry Chung, lecturer in physiology and nutrition at the University of Essex. “But the specific version – or genotype – you inherit can affect how you respond to training.”

Take the ACTN3 gene, often called the ‘speed gene’. It helps produce a protein found in fast-twitch muscle fibres, key for power and sprinting. There are three versions: RR gives you the full benefits for speed and power; RX is a weaker version; XX doesn’t produce the protein, meaning less raw power – but more slow-twitch fibres, helping endurance instead.

“Everyone has a mix of different exercise genotypes, so your personal blend can influence your response to training,” says Chung. “Even if a group of cyclists follows the exact same training – same rides, same intensity, same conditions – people still improve and adapt at different rates.” This inter-individual response is partly explained by genetics.

Why it’s trending: Bahrain Victorious partnered with GenePlanet to integrate DNA analysis into their performance strategy. The collaboration reportedly helped riders understand factors like optimal nutrition, recovery patterns, and how they process carbs. In Dr Chung’s research on lower-limb strength, genetics explained up to 72% of variation in responses to a 10-week leg programme. “If the average gain was 20% in leg strength, some riders might only gain 10%, and much of that difference comes down to genetics,” he says. “For aerobic fitness, the effect is smaller: genetics explained around 44% of the variation, translating to only ~1.7% of total gains.”

Be aware of the risks: Focusing too much on a DNA report can hold you back. “Genetics is just one piece of the puzzle,” Chung warns.

Should you use it? “For everyday cyclists, the available gains would mean only a tiny difference, but for elite athletes, even a 1% edge can be the difference between winning a medal or not.” Chung adds another caveat: “Genetics only explains part of why some riders improve faster than others – having great genes won’t help if you skip training or recovery.”

Carbon monoxide rebreathing

What it is: This one sounds like science fiction – and with good reason. Carbon monoxide (CO) rebreathing involves inhaling controlled doses of a deadly gas to measure haemoglobin levels and, theoretically, to simulate the hypoxic effects of altitude.

How it works: “In a nutshell, it’s a substitute for altitude training,” says Dr Jeffrey Sankoff, a Colorado-based emergency room physician and triathlete (TriDoc podcast). “It augments the effects of training at altitudes.” Haemoglobin is crucial in transporting oxygen to muscles, delaying fatigue and helping performance. The test is usually done at the start and end of altitude training camps using a device connected to oxygen and carbon monoxide supplies.

Why it’s trending: WorldTour teams linked with this practice – prior to the UCI voting to ban the use of repeated carbon monoxide rebreathing equipment – called it safe when performed by experts.

Be aware of the risks: As Sankoff bluntly puts it: “The risk is death. I don’t think I can be any clearer than that.” Even small errors in dosing or monitoring can be fatal. The UCI banned repeated CO rebreathing in 2025, allowing it only in strict medical settings for diagnostic purposes.

Should you use it? “Its benefits have been exaggerated in the lay press,” says Sankoff. “In studies I’ve seen reported, very few differences were found between the altitude group and the group who trained at altitude and breathed CO. Differences that would be trivial for the average age-group cyclist.”

Biohacking and ketones

What it is: Biohacking in sport covers a spectrum from the sensible (tracking sleep or HRV) to the extreme (gene editing or DIY biology). In cycling, one of the most debated biohacks of recent years has been exogenous ketones.

How it works: Ketones are compounds produced by the liver when carbohydrate availability is low, such as during fasting or prolonged endurance exercise. In this state, muscles, the heart, and the brain all switch to ketones as an alternative fuel source.

Why it’s trending: Visma-Lease a Bike, Soudal Quick-Step, and Alpecin-Deceuninck have incorporated ketone supplements into their nutrition strategies. Exogenous ketones – usually taken as a liquid ester ‘shot’ costing £30-40 – aim to shortcut the fat-to-fuel process by raising ketone levels in the blood without the need for carb restriction.

Be aware of the risks: The UCI has not banned ketone usage after recent studies allayed fears around safety and significant performance enhancement. But some scientists remain unsettled, dosing protocols are unclear, and side effects – especially with cheaper ketone salts – can include stomach issues and impaired performance.

Should you use it? Some research suggests ketones may speed up glycogen resynthesis, reduce inflammation and promote protein synthesis. Combined with the cost, though, ketones are a questionable investment for amateurs. Even Visma’s sports director Grischa Niermann has gone on record to say that ketones are “just a small part of the team’s complex performance puzzle” rather than a miracle fix.

Continuous glucose monitoring (CGM)

What it is: Continuous glucose monitoring uses a small sensor inserted under the skin to track glucose levels in the interstitial fluid continuously. Originally developed for people with diabetes, it’s increasingly used by elite riders to monitor fuelling and recovery in real time, although they're not allowed in-race, yet.

How it works: The device measures glucose trends 24/7 and sends data to a phone or head unit. “Athletes can see how meals, ride intensity and even sleep affect glucose levels. Coaches and nutritionists then use these trends to fine-tune fuelling strategies before, during and after training,” explains Dr Laurent Bannock, founder and director of the Institute of Performance Nutrition.

Why it’s trending: Teams including Ineos Grenadiers have trialled CGMs as part of their nutrition science setups. “For professionals, a dip in blood glucose mid-race can be catastrophic. CGM helps avoid hypoglycaemia, optimise carbohydrate intake on the bike, and evaluate recovery overnight,” says Bannock.

Be aware of the risks: CGMs can lag behind blood glucose during rapid changes, leading to misleading readings. Overinterpretation of data can foster obsessive fuelling habits (so-called glucorexia). “For most riders, a solid nutrition strategy guided by hunger, recovery and structured carb timing may be more practical than constant glucose tracking,” insists Bannock.

Should you use it? Evidence for performance gains in non-diabetic athletes is mixed. “Some research shows CGM can help prevent energy crashes, but no study has proven it directly boosts metrics like power output,” says Dr Bannock. “For amateurs, the £80-120/month cost and the risk of over-analysing normal glucose fluctuations may outweigh the benefits.”

Max-volume Zone 2

What it is: Zone 2 refers to riding at low-to-moderate intensity – roughly 60–70% of maximum heart rate or 65–75% of FTP. It’s gained buzz recently, with some suggesting you should do as much of it as possible.

How it works: “At this intensity, muscles rely heavily on fat oxidation and mitochondrial activity,” explains Dr Iñigo San Millán, trainer at UAE Team Emirates. “Zone 2 improves metabolic flexibility, lactate clearance and aerobic efficiency – the foundations of endurance. It teaches the body to spare glycogen so athletes can go harder, for longer.”

Why it’s trending: Pogačar devotes hours to it: Zone 2 builds the “base engine” that lets them sustain repeated high-intensity efforts on climbs and in time trials.

Be aware of the risks: But more isn’t always better. Excessive Zone 2 can pile on fatigue, limit top-end development, and leave riders one-dimensional. “It’s one pillar of performance, not the whole house,” says San Millán.

So should you use it? For amateurs with 8–10 weekly hours, San Millán cautions against going all in. A smarter balance is two to three Zone 2 rides each week, combined with strength, sprint and interval work to keep your “turbo” alive.

There are several pre-ride checks that, as cyclists, we all do almost instinctively. Give tyres a little squeeze, grab both brakes, check the headset, and, assuming all is well, head off. But one of the tiniest screws, if left unchecked, could spell a very nasty end to your ride.

And don't I know it.

As a family of bike riders across three disciplines, combined with my job as a bike tester, we have more bikes than pedals. We're constantly swapping them between cross bikes, mountain bikes, and our ragged collection of road bikes.

One day, in a rush to leave, I grabbed some spare pedals and attached them to my mountain bike.

It turned out that the last user of the pedals had been my 11-year-old daughter, practicing her cyclocross dismounts.

Unfortunately, I realised too late that the pedal binder spring tension was significantly looser than I had anticipated. As I took off from what seemed a harmless jump, I found myself footloose and ending up rolling around in, thankfully, a patch of bracken.

Luckily, with just my pride hurt, I dusted myself off and realised how much worse it could have been without the soft landing to save me. I hadn't even noticed that the pedal tension was that loose when I clipped in.

Later, discussing this with cycling buddies, it turns out I'm not the only one guilty of neglecting to double-check this tiny screw on every ride. While most cyclists aren't quite as fluid with their pedal swaps as perhaps my family is, many of my riding friends couldn't recall when they last checked their pedal settings or, in some cases, had ever done so.

Sheepishly, I turned to the experts, and, equally relieved but concerned, it transpired that my friends and I were far from being the only ones to fail this pre-flight check.

According to Richard Salisbury, a qualified Sports Rehabilitation Specialist and Professional Bike Fitter at Pedal Precision, this issue arises at almost every bike fit.

"It's expectations that get us into trouble," confirms Salisbury. "Whether the pedal binder spring tension is too tight or too loose, if the pedal doesn't do what our minds and bodies expect, that's when we can suffer either a small tumble or a big fall," explaining that our bodies are primed to do what we expect our pedals to do. When they don't, we become unbalanced.

"It can be a psychological barrier to people new to riding" Salisbury tells me, explaining how it's common for people to invest in a pedal and shoe setup, but don't know how best to adjust the little grub screw on the spring tension, " they end up being so scared, people try to overcome the fear of being clipped by loosening them too much.

"There's a point of no return, specifically in Shimano pedals, where the binder spring tension becomes so loose that it doesn't release the cleat," warns Salisbury. He also mentions that this, along with the misconception that riders new to clipless pedals should start with an extensive range of pedal float, are precisely the two ingredients that can lead to injuries, whether from knee problems or falls.

Charlotte Tysler, Digital Marketing and Communications Manager, Look Pedals, agrees on the importance of considering float and tension together to "achieve the right balance between comfort, safety, and performance."

So, how much tension should your pedals have?

Tysler again, "The preset tension [at Look] depends purely on the model. Entry-level models are set with a lighter release tension (around 6 or 8) this makes them more accessible to beginner riders" she says, adding that high-end models come with a higher preset (up to 16), which Look believe are better suited to experienced cyclists seeking a firmer and more secure connection.

Understandable for the manufacturer, but this preset tension could be far from ideal for the rider.

Salisbury explains that even rider size can impact pedal tension: "A smaller rider will get away with a looser spring tension compared to a bigger rider who will push big watts from the start."

Surprisingly he also adds that "The size of your feet play a role in how easy you find it to clip in or out of your pedals," explaining that a larger foot equals a longer lever, which creates a greater distance from the pivot point and therefore amplifies the effort needed, making it easier to overcome a tighter bind with less physical effort".

But where is best to start?

"I usually start with the tension on the middle setting on all pedals, then just adjust on feel to what I prefer," says Ex-professional cyclist, Nikki Brammeier, adding that it's essential to do this on every pair as "Not all pedals are the same, even the same brand and model can feel drastically different"!

As someone who has raced at the World Championship level across four different disciplines (cyclocross, road, mountain bike, and track) and now runs Mudiiita coaching for new and experienced riders, Brammeier knows a thing or two about pedal tension and getting it right.

"I like there to be a definitive amount of pressure before the cleat unclips," she says, adding that "Obviously, doing standing starts or sprints, there's a high chance of torsion through the pedals, so there needs to be a decent amount of resistance.

"With something like cyclocross, you'll be clipping in and out often, so you need them loose enough to do that, but tight enough so you feel confident off the line or in those big power bursts that come with accelerating out of corners. Crits are a bit the same. It really is down to personal preference".

And then there's mobility to factor in

"A rider's mobility will impact how much tension you'll want," says Salisbury. "We all revisit saddle choice, bike position, and even float, but that little grub screw is rarely moved from when we first started riding."

Salisbury explains that tightening or loosening the spring tension screw should be a semi-regular maintenance task, as our cleats wear out or our mobility changes. "Almost everyone who comes in for a bike fit has only adjusted it once, and that was when they first got their pedals.

"Many riders have been using the same pedals for decades, it's something we often overlook and assume will always be on the correct setting.

I reflect on my own riding experience, and while I've adjusted my overall position due to an ongoing back issue and even transitioned to less stiff shoes, as comfort now outweighs performance, I've never adjusted my grub screw to take into account my mobility (or lack thereof).

For women, menstrual cycles, the perimenopausal period, and menopause fluctuate and decline estrogen levels, meaning mobility will be changing constantly. It's wild when I think about how I failed to make any pedal spring tension adjustments when the hormone, relaxin, was pumping around me when I was pregnant. Looking back, I'm surprised I didn't dislocate an ankle or hip.

As one of only three points of contact with my bike, I feel seriously guilty about the lack of attention I've given it.

It's a topic it sits far higher on Brammier's priority list, adding that as well as paying attention to pedal spring tension, "it's also really important to replace your cleats more often than you think." she says, telling me that it's something she always tells riders she works with, adding that it " makes a big difference to the function of the pedals.

"Often we wait until we pull our feet out before we get new cleats, but really we should be checking and replacing them on a regular basis."

I consider myself well and truly educated on that little grub screw. I can't promise to check for cleat wear before all rides, but I'll be paying way more attention to tension depending on whose bike they were last on, where I am on my cycle, and whether or not I'm planning to leave the ground.

The full, original version of this article was published in the 4th September 2025 print edition of Cycling Weekly. Subscribe online and get the magazine delivered direct to your door every week.

As a rule, I prefer to do my pedalling out in the fresh air, cycling along roads, lanes and tracks, rather than, say, while straddling a turbo trainer in a windowless room in Reading. But I have spent quite a lot of time (and money) experimenting with nutritional products over the years, attempting to channel more energy into my legs to avoid bonking during longer rides and events – without ever really knowing what I was doing.

Suffice to say, when I was offered the opportunity to take a test to find out exactly how much carbohydrate my body uses while riding, I jumped at it.

The use of carbohydrate-rich sports drinks by cyclists has become entirely normal. Everyone from the keen weekend cyclist to elite athletes can be seen chugging on bidons brimming with carb-loaded solutions.

Depending on the guidelines they’re following, most amateurs aim to consume 60g to 90g of carbs an hour, while professional cyclists are taking in as much as 120g per 60 minutes cycled. Could us amateurs benefit from upping our intake – would it help us ride further and faster?

The short answer is: probably not. There is a limit on how much carbohydrate your body can convert into useful energy, and taking on too much can lead to gut discomfort and digestion problems that will slow you down, if not ruin your ride.

Unused carbs can also lead to weight gain, which no cyclist wants. And carb powders and gels are expensive, so there’s a solid economic reason for consuming only as much as you need and no more.

The question is: how to figure out how much carbohydrate your body actually burns while cycling? The good news is that there is a way to put a precise number on it.

Unfortunately, it is relatively complicated, and until recently, access to the analytical tools required has been the preserve of people working with elite riders and pro teams. That could be set to change now that a Liverpool-based company has launched a test kit designed to be accessible to everyone, and promising the best return for every gram of carbs.

Led by Dr Jamie Pugh, a senior lecturer in sports physiology and metabolism at Liverpool John Moores University, ExoAnalytics has developed a test that precisely measures a person’s ability to digest and oxidise carbohydrates during exercise. The company has been working with elite riders and runners for some time, but has now developed a test kit available to everyone. By following a set of instructions while using an indoor trainer, the likes of you and me can collect samples and send them off to a lab for scientific analysis. Ahead of the public launch, I was invited to try it out.

The protocol

Deep in the bowels of Future Towers, buried within the light-industrial sprawl of the Winnersh Triangle, I’m clipped in on a smart-bike, sweat dripping as I stare at a Zwift screen. A contraption that looks suspiciously like a gimp mask covers my face while I grind through the final 10 minutes of a 90-minute ride. I haven’t moved an inch, yet I’m hoping this peculiar ordeal will yield the kind of insight that helps me fine-tune my fuelling strategy for every ride to come.

Before the test, I spent some time with Pugh and his business partner and fellow fuelling expert Dr Sam Impey (formerly lead nutritionist with British Cycling) to learn how their “exogenous carbohydrate oxidation test” (£350, exoanalytics.co.uk) works. They told me that carbohydrates contain carbon, and the most common form of carbon atom is the isotope 12C, accounting for 98.9% of all carbon on Earth.

The remaining 1.1% of carbon exists in the form of 13C, which has an additional neutron and can be detected in the carbon dioxide in exhaled breath. During the ExoAnalytics test, the subject (me) needs to consume an exact amount of a carb-loaded solution enriched with 13C. This is done at regular intervals, while pedalling at a prescribed rate for a set amount of time.

By measuring the amount of 13C the subject exhales at the end of the exercise, the ExoAnalytics team can determine exactly how much of ingested carbohydrate has been put to good use, and how much has been surplus to requirements. From there, a precise plan can be worked out to optimise intake. Simples.

While the science is tried and tested many times over, the test kit, offered to the general public, is totally new. Mine arrived in an impressively snazzy box with a set of clear instructions about which foods to avoid before taking the test (ones containing potentially result-distorting levels of C13). The test is not a particularly complicated procedure, but you do need to do certain things in a specific order – and a video guided me through it with ease.

I was tasked with making up a bottle of drink, mixing 180g of powdered carbohydrate with water until I had 750ml of liquid to consume during the 90-minute workout (a mighty 120g of carbs per hour).

I positioned this gloopy solution next to the trainer, along with my phone and the supplied Calibre metabolic mask – thankfully not required until the last 10 minutes of the test. Before starting the 90-minute ride, I collected a breath sample by exhaling through a straw into a vial before quickly closing the lid. This is more scientific than it sounds because the carbon dioxide content of ambient air is negligible and the test is for the ratio of exhaled isotopes, not the total amount.

Test then post

I’m pedalling as instructed at around 70% of my FTP – the intensity of highest carb use (at higher effort, carb uptake tends to actually decrease slightly). I’ve been slurping 125ml of the sweet carb solution every 15 minutes.

At the 75-minute mark, I pull the metabolic mask over my head, position it on my face, then connect it with the app and calibrate. The mask contains a gadget that performs an indirect calorimetry assessment – an estimation of whole-body carbohydrate and fat oxidation.

At 80 minutes, I hit start on the app and keep pedalling for the last 10 minutes of the test. Climbing off the bike at the end of the 90 minutes, I collect one more breath sample and that’s it. Test done. All I need to do now is to post the mask and the vials off to the laboratory and wait for my test results to roll in.

The results

When they come back, the results reveal that my exogenous oxidation rate is just 59g per hour. In other words, my body burned just 50% of the carbs I consumed. Of course, 120g of carbs an hour is far more than I would usually consume, but even so, 50% feels like a failure.

Pugh consoles me by explaining that he and his team have seen a spectrum of results from 44% right through to 90% – and that most of the people tested so far are extremely serious athletes. “The goal is not the highest number,” he says, “but rather finding the most efficient fuelling strategy for you personally.” What matters, then, is not my result but the fuelling recommendations it produces.

Instead of consuming 120g of carbs per hour as I did during the test, I should aim for 73g of carbs per hour during the first two hours of a ride, and 82g per hour thereafter – more than I had expected.

Pugh explains that some people take the test so as to maximise their carb intake, others want to consume the right amount to avoid stomach upsets, while some are just curious or want to fine-tune their current strategy. I’m in the latter camp.

Despite my initial disappointment at my relatively low conversion rate, it’s great to know how many carbs per hour I actually need. I already know my place in the peloton, and sadly it’s not at the pointy end – so there is no point in my fuelling like a GC hero. Doing so would only slow me down.

With training, I probably could nudge up my conversion rate. Targeted metabolic sessions ‘teach’ the body to burn fat and carbs more efficiently, though other factors play a role too. Pugh tells me that high temperatures typically result in a 10-25% decrease in the body’s ability to use carbohydrates, since it is diverting resources to cooling.

Aside from prescribing precise fuelling advice, Pugh and his team are accumulating a massive dataset. “Our goal is to test more people than have ever been tested in published research,” he tells me, “and we’re aiming to broaden the range of individuals studied beyond the typical demographic of white males aged 18 to 35. We have started to study bike-to-run differences for triathletes and the effects of environmental conditions like temperature. It’s fascinating.”

Of course, not everyone will be convinced that such testing is worth the price of admission. At £350 a pop, it’s a serious investment for amateur riders, especially when general guidelines already exist.

Sports nutritionists often recommend that most cyclists can perform perfectly well by consuming around 60g of carbs per hour, rising to 90g for longer or more intense rides. For the majority, sticking within this range is simple, effective and doesn’t require a lab analysis or a box of tubes and masks. Still, what ExoAnalytics offers is something different: precision.

Rather than relying on averages and guesswork, riders can see exactly how their own bodies handle fuel, and adjust accordingly. For those who love data, race regularly, or have struggled with gut issues on the bike, that knowledge could be invaluable.

For the rest of us, it may be enough simply to know that the science exists, and that elite-level insight is filtering down to the club run. Whether or not the test is worth the money, it shines a light on just how central fuelling has become to modern cycling.

Choose your source

Once you know your optimum carbohydrate intake, the next step is choosing the right source. Convenience products dominate the market: most gels, such as SiS Beta Fuel or Precision Hydration, contain 30 or 40g of carbs each, while drink mixes typically deliver 60-90g per litre and often add electrolytes to replace those lost in sweat.

Energy chews and bars usually sit in the 25-45g range and can be more satisfying on longer rides. Whole foods are an option too: a medium banana provides about 27g, two slices of white bread about 30g, and a handful of dried fruit about 25g. The key is selecting products you actually enjoy – because fuelling only works if you can stomach it hour after hour.

Choosing fat as a fuel source for ultra-distance riding

In the world of ultra riding, carbs don’t cut it. A long-distance specialist tells us why he focuses on fats instead

ExoAnalytics has worked with numerous elite athletes, including professional triathlete Chris Beckmans, who has just posted his best-ever Ironman result in Copenhagen, shaving over five minutes off his previous bike leg time.

“I undertook the [ExoAnalytics] test on the bike a couple of months ago,” Beckmans tells me. “As a result, I was able to adapt my carb intake leading into both the final key sessions of my prep, and on race day, with great success.”

In a different sphere of cycling, the reliance on and effectiveness of simply smashing carb-heavy supplements isn’t necessarily the best approach. Ultra rider Ian To, organiser of the epic 4,000km Via race, stresses the importance of fats.“For high-intensity events, like short road rides and hill-climbs, carbs are great,” he says, “but for ultra events, I prefer fats.

If you’re riding for a longer period, say 20 hours, and you’re burning through 600 calories an hour, you can’t possibly replace that with carbs. You only get four calories per gram from carbs, but with fats you get up to 10 calories.”

Admittedly, most riders don’t often find themselves in the saddle for 20 hours at a time, and by doing ultra-length events, To has trained his body to burn fat very efficiently. Nevertheless, he makes an important point about over-dependence on carbohydrates.

“If you become completely reliant on carbs, it can leave you in an almost prediabetic state, craving sugar during and after an event,” he cautions. “We’re consuming far too much sugar in our diets already, and it’s terrible. Personally, I prefer fuelling up on protein-rich foods packed with unprocessed fats. Not to the total exclusion of carbs, though – it’s never a bad idea to carry an insurance policy in your back pocket in the form of a gel or two.”

The full, original version of this article was published in the 28th August 2025 print edition of Cycling Weekly. Subscribe online and get the magazine delivered direct to your door every week.

There are plenty of resources out there for people getting started in cycling, but if you’re coming back to it, the energy is both figuratively and physically far harder to come by. I went from the literal heights of living at altitude in the French-Italian Alps, riding six days a week as an Alpine tour guide, to losing most of my fitness in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Running a custom bike business took over my life to the extent that I had neither the time nor physical resources to look after myself.

Now, 10 years later and gainfully employed as Cycling Weekly’s tech editor, I’m back on the bike –appreciating the privilege of testing new models, but more importantly, getting back the love of keeping fit. My health is the prize I once took for granted, and every ride feels like a small victory. If you’re looking to rediscover your own cycling legs, maybe my example might help. Here’s how I regained fitness, rebuilt my confidence, and remembered why I fell in love with riding in the first place.

How did I get here?

Let me take you back to 2015: I’m sitting on a 1970s-style sofa in a once chic but now faded Alpine chalet, having quit the corporate world to make custom bicycles in the mountains. These humble digs are provided in exchange for driving a ski transfer bus.

It would become the best, most challenging, but ultimately the most disruptive decade of my life, culminating in near bankruptcy, liquidation and ultimately losing my home. These were the unexpected side effects of running a custom bike business: plummeting physical and mental fitness, killer migraines, crippling anxiety and even erectile dysfunction. Yes, really. Bicycles can do that. Who knew? I’d medicate with a near-daily bottle of wine to ease the anxiety.

An initially innocent quest to find purpose through building top-quality bikes had brought me opportunities and adventure I never believed possible. But in a baffling quid pro quo, keeping it alive had also brought me, my health, and the relationships that meant the most to me, to their knees. Fast-forward to less than a year ago, and I was empty, unfit and skint. This time, entirely on my own, the only answer I could think of was to get back on my bike.

It’s been incredibly freeing. I have learned it is entirely valid to do a 10k lap from the village and stop at the pub. There’s nothing to share on Instagram, but you’ll likely go further next time. I’ve learned that I am not trying to qualify for the Tour de France, I’m trying to have fun.

Kill your cycling ego

In psychedelics, the death of ego is a phrase used to describe a permanent dissolution of the individual’s sense of self. Mine was still centred around the idea that I was still somehow a big deal on a bike, despite the overwhelming evidence that I was barely ticking the basic human, lover or friend boxes, let alone being a good cyclist. That was the last stubborn and outdated idea that needed to go if I was to make any meaningful progress in refinding form.

If you’re worried you might have a cycling ego that’s holding you back, there’s a few easy checks you can make. Have you, for example, ever skipped a ride because you didn’t think you’d be good enough? Or worse, because the ride wasn’t far enough for a serious rider like you? Or because your Garmin wasn’t charged? These were just some of the ways my cycling ego held me back. Over the last few months, I’ve had to unpick all that nonsense systematically, so I can go and ride my bike wherever and whenever I can.

Offer of company? Just say yes

Riddled with illogical doubts, like ‘is it worth riding if it’s less than three hours?’, I’d forgotten to just enjoy cycling. I’d had plenty of riding offers from customers over the preceding few months, but what if people realised I wasn’t super fit anymore?

The truth was, it was screamingly obvious I wasn’t fit. If your mates ask you to go out for a ride, I’d just advise you to go. They didn’t ask you because they care about your power output; they probably genuinely just want to hang out and know it will make you feel better. Riding is medicine, and time with friends is a tonic.

Get creative with limits

This advice ‘start small, build up’ might be obvious, but ignoring it is one of the most significant barriers to getting back to some form, bearing in mind middle-aged joints. I started riding in the mornings and found that the time limit inherent in the pre-work slot was a useful restriction.

This had a few benefits: I could ride out of my skin in a short while, but it meant I rarely rode to exhaustion, and I never had a mechanical problem that I couldn’t walk home from. It also meant I didn’t have to stress about the time I was spending on the bike, or the kit I was taking with me. I just needed to be up and out, and back in time for work.

This may sound limiting, on the face of it, but it gave me a guard rail that kept my ego protected, and gave me a sense of enormous satisfaction from a necessarily short ride. Over time, the morning rides helped build my confidence. Habits like this soon become disciplines, and help to build a sense of competence.

My first dozen rides were laughably brief. I told myself that the ride was the reward – all that mattered was getting out there. If I didn’t ‘feel it’ on any given day, I could return home. It wasn’t about distance, it was about building a habit. Soon I found myself riding harder or further than I’d planned, and this came with a sense of added achievement, which was motivating and – dare I say it – rewarding.

Nourish, sleep, recover

Fruit and veg, good protein, and good sleep cannot be overrated. I have a sleep monitor, which helps me identify late coffees, simple sugar hits, and screens that might be sabotaging my shut-eye. I now drink decaf coffee and am not missing the old stuff at all.

Alcohol messes with your sleep, too. Now that I’ve cut back on booze, I’m finding that even the odd glass upsets my sleep pattern. With empirical data on tap, it’s easier to justify skipping alcohol altogether.

I take a regular supplement stack – many related to absorption issues from celiac disease and IBS – but the chief and relatively new highlight is glucosamine sulphate. I find it helps significantly with recovery in my joints. Broadly speaking, Vitamin D and omega-3 are the only supplements with a very strong evidence base (as far as healthy people are concerned); just take care of the basics, get good sleep, veg, vitamins and plenty of water.

You can’t hide – so run

Your cardio system powers your cycling, and lacing up your trainers for a run is far less hassle than kitting up for a bike ride. I started with a run to the beach and back: just 2km, but I could barely manage it without stopping. I’m now running 5km several times a week, stretching it to 10km occasionally. Timing my runs while leaving my rides data-free means cycling remains fun.

The satisfaction I felt upon comfortably running to the beach for the first time wasn’t shareable on Strava, but it was immense for my motivation. By setting myself small, attainable goals, the rewards came quickly and fuelled the positivity to keep going. On a kilometre-for-kilometre basis, running is much harder on your cardiovascular system than cycling. This is important if you’re results-driven and time-poor, and want to see gains on the bike.

Motivation? It’s overrated

Becoming an adult is about developing the discipline needed to get out of bed and go to work – but it doesn’t mean we dash to our jobs with a spring in our step. It’s the repetition and responsibility that gets us out of the door – if we relied solely on motivation, nothing would ever get done. Be similarly realistic about your exercise: make it a habit and just do it.

Share your plans

It’s helped me to share my training plans with friends. Even if it’s just, “I’m going cycling tomorrow”, the statement carries its own power – to say it is to believe it. Now that I work at Cycling Weekly, it’s acceptable to share weekly goals with my boss, the editor; Simon is a runner, so he understands if I tell him that this week I’m aiming to get my 5km to under 25 minutes, it makes me accountable. Try it.

Share the experience

When I moved to rural Norfolk at the start of this rebuilding process, I felt very alone – that deep sense of loneliness that creeps in when you feel low. A few months on, I can see now how many people have contributed to my progress; I feel supported and thankful. So if you’re starting from a lifetime low base as I was, trust that the connections you make will become more apparent and meaningful as the fitness builds back. I’m not qualified to comment on how to fix feelings of loneliness, but I found a different perspective after a few weeks of discipline with my training, and that is a welcome side effect.

As mentioned, colleagues have helped, as has an old schoolmate who lives nearby. There’s my new neighbour Su, and my parents – who probably wonder why I announce my weekly athletic achievements like a kid coming home from school from sports day. Hopefully they find it cute. The audience is less important than the sharing: let others into your project.

Small beginnings

Nowadays I’m riding or running almost every day and taking good care of myself. As a result, I’m far happier and healthier. I’m nowhere near old form, but I don’t think that’s a reasonable expectation after nearly a decade of self-neglect. More than ever before, I am comfortable in the peace and quiet of Norfolk’s less-than-hilly lanes, with plenty of friendly or familiar stops along my regular routes.

If you’re struggling with any of the issues raised here, reach out to a professional and seek help today. Take some small steps towards building the life you deserve. The hardest bit is that first step. If you’re just struggling with getting back to training or finding previous form, start small, set achievable goals, and take the credit where it’s due. Small goals are easy to hit – let them grow naturally. It’s certainly worth the effort.

The kit that has sustained my mojo

Using products that work well, look nice and feel good will help maintain your enthusiasm. These are the stand-out items that have become trusted training partners as I’ve rebuilt fitness.

100% Speedcraft sunglasses (£118): I’ve tested stacks of sunglasses, but I bought these myself years ago and they’re still my faves. Great visual clarity, and the lenses have never picked up a scratch. The silicone gripper on one arm fell off recently, but they remain my go-to glasses.

Q36.5 Dottere bibshorts (£250): Hands-down the best pair of bibs I’ve ever worn. And that matters when you’re reacquainting your bottom with the saddle. Money matters too, of course, and Rapha’s Core bibs are less than half the price and hard to beat if you want something nearly as good, stylish and cut nicely.

Muov Road smart-bike (£4,995): If Zwift gamified indoor cycling, Muov completed it. This ‘real movement’ smart trainer could only be better at being a smart-bike if it had wheels and you could ride it outside. Eyewateringly expensive, though. The cheaper ‘real movement’ alternative is Wahoo’s Kickr Rollr.

Van Rysel RoadR 500 helmet (£30-50): I’ve used the best helmets in the world, and I still grab this one every time I go out for a ride. Great vents, good fit, looks good, and so unbelievably cheap – you hardly have to worry about it. I bought it myself, from Decathlon.