It is no easy feat to make a name for yourself in cycling if you hail from the Isle of Man. The tiny island boasts a staggeringly rich racing legacy, having produced Mark Cavendish and other top-tier pros including Peter Kennaugh, Mark Christian, Lizzie Holden and Becky Storrie. Yet, Peter's younger brother Tim Kennaugh has forged his own distinct path off the bike, earning a reputation as one of professional cycling's most respected coaches. His elite clientele has included three-time Olympic gold medallist Ed Clancy, Tour stage-winner Heinrich Haussler and Cavendish himself.

Kennaugh initially shared his brother's pro aspirations. Representing Great Britain, he won a silver medal at the U19 European Championships. However, a diagnosis of Hashimoto's autoimmune disease during his U23 years prematurely ended his racing career. Pivoting to support roles, Tim joined domestic squad Rapha Condor-JLT as a soigneur in 2013, stepping up to coach a year later. He soon launched his own business, with early clients including his double-national-champion brother. Before long he had moved up to the World Tour, serving as a performance director for EF Education First in 2018, followed by a seven-year stint at Bahrain, including working for a season with Cavendish.

Now 34, armed with a master's degree in high-performance sports science from the European University of Madrid, Kennaugh has relaunched his solo business. Alongside amateur and Continental clients, he currently oversees the coaching programme of the EF Education-Aevolo development team. We spoke to Kennaugh to find out more about how he gets the very best from every type of rider, from rising stars to ambitious veterans.

What was it like to coach Mark Cavendish?

I'd known Cav for quite a long time, what with us both being from the Isle of Man. He really supported me in my youth by giving me his old cycling kit and then paying for my rent when I was racing in Italy. We then didn't speak for a number of years, but when he joined Bahrain-McLaren [in 2020] I began coaching him. I was a little nervous, as he's a big personality, and when you're dealing with an athlete as famous as that, you're also dealing with their travel programme, their agent and other commitments that you just don't have with most other cyclists. From a coaching perspective, I couldn't have asked for any more. He did everything I asked of him, committed to every training session and gave good feedback.

Why did you leave Bahrain Victorious?

I had burnout after so many years working in the World Tour. I loved it but it was time for a reset. I'm happy to be back working in cycling again with the EF devo team – and I wouldn't turn down future opportunities to work in the World Tour.

What was the personal appeal of coaching?

I've always been a people person, and coaching allows me to use those skills. When coaching young kids, I want them to develop as much off the bike as they do on it. Over time you go through a lot with each individual rider, especially if you've coached them for six years as I did with some at Bahrain. It's great being part of everyone's journey and supporting them as much as possible.

What are the first steps when you begin coaching a rider?

Rather than focusing on the one big goal, it's about breaking it down and working back from that goal and its demands to establish the best processes that will lead to the desired outcome. You have to work out the KPIs [key performance indicators] and what numbers to hit, as well as devise a monitoring programme, such as a regular test to repeat to see if the athlete is on track or not. Then you bring in other members of the performance team – nutritionists, physios, strength coaches – to make sure everyone's pointing in the same direction.

How do you make sure you get the best out of an athlete?

By making sure the training plan fits the athlete's lifestyle and this is especially true of amateur cyclists. I can write the most scientifically optimal programme in the world, but if it doesn't work around the athlete's commitments, or where they are in their development, then it's not optimal for them. Take Fred Wright, for example: when he was doing the Classics for the first time, he needed a certain watts-per-kilo figure to get over the bergs, but that wasn't his limiting factor – what was holding him back originally was that he was so fatigued when he got to the key bergs that he couldn't produce the power. So what we needed to prioritise first was getting him to the finish, and then once he could stay at the front of the peloton it was time to work on his power on those short, steep climbs.

How do you ensure that riders spend the right amount of time at altitude?

First of all, you've got to do blood tests to make sure they're fit and healthy before they go, because if they've got any cardiorespiratory illnesses, they should be kept at home. In their first week there, you've got to keep intensity relatively low. Using wearables that test heart rate variability, or devices that measure blood oxygen levels is essential to continue managing load. Altitude works, but it does cause physical and mental stress.

How do you improve a rider's durability?

The rider obviously needs a strong aerobic capacity first. High training volume helps, for sure, and then it's a case of developing their threshold. From a race-specific perspective, you've got to know the duration and difficulty of the effort that'll be required repeatedly in the race, and then you plan training sessions around that. I often test it by comparing someone's fresh power with the same effort at the end of the ride and seeing how much the drop-off in power is.

What message do you find yourself repeating?

Reminding riders, pros especially, to trust the process. People always want confirmation of how they're going, but it's not about chasing a specific number or peak power – it's instead about being consistent. Holding pros back is the biggest challenge as a coach. Rather than adding to a training plan, it's often about stopping them from doing something, or taking something away. It's the reduction that creates the biggest improvement in performance. Adding altitude, heat training or increasing gym work might mean that all of a sudden the athlete isn't recovering properly and isn't adapting as well as they should be.

What are some of the biggest challenges you've faced as a coach?

When I first started, I was really quite young and I had imposter syndrome, as I was working with guys older and more experienced than me. Also, I didn't go to university, so I was constantly watching lectures and learning more about physiology, coaching and managing people. Once I got into the World Tour, it became even more demanding. There are so many external experts that sometimes it felt like I was trying my best but just treading water. You get back from races and training camps and you're so busy that you don't have time to keep up with things. Now that I've stepped away, I've had more bandwidth to look into topics that I find interesting.

What's one data point you think is underused?

RPE – rate of perceived exertion. We have so many measurements – power, heart rate, lactate, so much data and everyone's always looking at the 1% to improve, but still people don't leave an RPE comment on their training files. There could be a million different reasons for a higher or lower heart or lactate measurement, and RPE is really useful to try to explain that.

What's your view on the role of AI in coaching?

I think it's great for the general population. If I go to the doctor's or see a specialist, thanks to AI I'm now so much more informed. It's the same when I talk to cyclists I coach – they're able to get so much info now that they can ask better questions. I also think a 12-week training plan produced by AI for a beginner is generally not bad. What you'll find with AI, though, is that the more you know, the more mistakes you spot in its recommendations. I see it going the other way: rather than growing dependent on AI, people will crave human connection and want someone on the phone to offer an understanding ear, to hear their tone of voice or disappointment after a race.

What's the future of coaching?

Because there's now so much data, I think we're going to see more coaches on teams, as it's going to become very difficult for one coach to train eight riders properly. We'll likely go down to three riders per coach, and the coaches will end up being like a GP, referring the athlete to individual specialists who will work alongside them.

Coach's CV: Tim Kennaugh

Age: 34

Hometown: Douglas, Isle of Man

Notable riders coached: Mark Cavendish, Fred Wright, Peter Kennaugh

Best achievements as coach: Developing Phil Bauhaus as a sprinter

Best achievements as rider: 2nd – Points race, U19 European Championships (2009)

Favourite motto: Don't run before you can walk

Train like Cav – with caveats

Don't prioritise heat training: "An amateur athlete can't do everything, and if there were 100 things I could prescribe to an athlete to improve performance, heat training wouldn't be at the top of the list. It definitely works, but if you keep adding additional stresses on top of work and family life, then it will lead to taking extra days off. Keep your cool!"

Focus on regularity, not load: "If you've got a slightly easier training plan but it's consistent, then over 12 months you'll see bigger benefits."

Don't stagnate: "I see a lot of damage done by riders repeating the same training cycle and structure: a big ride on Saturday and Sunday; easy days on Tuesday and Thursday and rest the other days. That works for a while until you get bored and go backwards as you're not giving your body a different stimulus. Mix things up."

Don't forget intensity: "Every four weeks, you want to be including a macro cycle in which you train with greater intensity, before you go into an easier block. If you usually do six hours of training a week, in the fourth week, do eight or 10. Or instead of four sessions a week, do three but make one of them longer."

Replicate climbs: "Even if you live in a flat area, you can do torque efforts, sweetspot and FTP intervals at a lower cadence of 50rpm. Alternatively, find routes and training sessions on an indoor trainer that simulate climbing. Use technology to your advantage."

This article was first published as part of the 'Masterminds of Performance' series in the 16 July 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.

We’ve most likely all been there: you’re following a strict diet in the pursuit of an improved power-to-weight ratio, but the evening after a ride, you find yourself raiding the cupboards or – worse – waking up hungry and basking in the glow of a nighttime fridge excursion.

As common as this experience is, it’s likely a symptom of poor nutritional timing, and it can have a bigger impact on performance, recovery, and body composition than many people realise.

Post-ride overeating typically happens because you didn't fuel adequately before or during the ride, or because you didn't fuel well right after the session. To understand why, we need to look at a few fundamentals.

When we cycle, we use energy. Power through the pedals is the work we produce, but heart rate tells us how hard we had to work internally to produce this. Most training devices and software will tell us the power and kilojoules, or calories, used during a session; heart rate helps give us an indication of what sources of fuel we are using to produce that energy. At lower intensities, we use a higher proportion of fats, and the higher the intensity gets, the more carbohydrates we use.

Even after an effort, we use more energy than normal as we recover, including after we’ve stopped riding altogether. Elements such as high heat, altitude increases, and fatigue can all increase the ratio of carbohydrates we use at a given relative intensity.

Many riders make mistakes because they are not aware of the volume of carbohydrates they should be consuming. They may also struggle to get the appropriate volume in, resulting in a debt that needs to be paid later on.

An ideal volume would be anywhere from 60 to 120 grams per hour depending upon intensity and nutritional conditioning; pro riders will train themselves to be able to intake on the higher end. That’s between 2 to 4 typical energy gels, or 3 to 6 small bananas. If it sounds like a lot, you’re probably underfueling your rides.

If you’ve been underfueling during rides for years, this might sound like a lot of food. If you’re heading out for a club ride with friends, you may wonder how you could get through this much food whilst still maintaining a sociable conversation. The answer is practice and planning: it’ll take time to train your gut to tolerate adequate volume during a ride, but you also need to find foods that work for you.

Recommended carb intake during the ride

Volumes are not based upon body weight intentionally, gut length does not change with height, a smaller rider putting out more watts will actually require more input.

The upper end of the high intensity bracket would require gut training.

Post-ride, a common guideline is 20-30g of protein, followed by 80-120g of carbs for longer or harder sessions, a 1:4 ratio of protein to carbs. That’s a five-egg omelette and 100-150g of dried white rice; a personal favourite for me was always three eggs, a tin of beans and three slabs of toast.

Whilst replacing the carbs hours later, over a pub lunch or large evening meal, may be more inviting, it won’t work. For those without insulin irregularities, sugars and simple carbohydrates consumed during exercise and directly after it are processed very differently compared to food consumed hours later.

If you consume 100g of sugar at rest, a good amount of this will be deposited as fat stores. If you consume this during exercise, it is prioritised as a fuel source for the work. If it is consumed afterwards, it is generally directed towards replenishing muscle glycogen stores.

Consuming the carbohydrates required during and after exercise ensures you have greater performance during the session, replenishes stores ahead of the next session, and avoids the calories input being directed towards fat stores.

A bonus is that if you fuel correctly, you should have far fewer cravings later on, which means you avoid large intakes of sugar or rich and processed foods, which have a reduced positive impact on training, and contribute to gains in body fat.

So even though refined and processed sugars get a bad rap in the media, when consumed at the correct time, for active athletes these simple sugars are required and highly beneficial. Eating an entire bag of sweets on the sofa at 10pm won’t be good, but during a hard session it will likely have a positive impact on performance and recovery, while reducing cravings later.

It’s about eating the right stuff, at the right time, for the right level of activity. I find many riders I work with are underfuelling until we address the problem, changing these habits tends to have a notable and positive impact on recovery, performance, post-session tiredness and mood in general.

In recent years, shorter crank lengths have been in the spotlight. Back in 2024, Tadej Pogačar switched to 165mm cranks, a change that coincided with a run of victories that has yet to cease. Perhaps in response, Jonas Vingegaard was spotted using 150mm cranks at various races in 2025, although not at every event. Now 170mm, and shorter, are commonplace, if not quite the rule.

So, is shorter better?

Well, as with most factors relating to individuals, it really depends. There is no single correct crank length for every rider, and here I’m going to look into why that is. I'll also delve into the purported benefits and potential drawbacks. But first off, let’s get a bit of the background science out of the way.

Power (watts) is made up of two components. There's angular velocity, measured in cadence, and force, which is the torque we produce. An example equation would be 300W at 80RPM requires 35.81Nm of force (Power/Cadence) x 9.5492968).

But an interesting factor regarding crank length is that, although it doesn’t change the cadence at which you pedal, it does change the speed at which your legs move. This is due to the circumference of the pedal revolution changing as you alter crank length. Shorter cranks actually slow the foot, as it travels a shorter distance to complete each pedal revolution.

This has an interesting side effect: more pedal force is required with shorter cranks to achieve the same torque at the spindle, due to the reduced lever length. This has been suggested as a reason for higher self-selected cadences with shorter cranks, so as to reduce the pedal force required, increase the angular velocity of the foot, and still achieve the same power.

So why would a WorldTour rider use cranks that mean more force is required at the pedals? There are several reasons why, some of which we will discuss later. But first, smaller cranks change how the foot and leg move, which can affect efficiency and psychology. Since the foot is moving more slowly, there is an argument that higher cadences become more efficient because the legs do not need to move as fast or as much. This drop in angular velocities at the joints can help make repeated accelerations at higher cadences more sustainable, as at higher power outputs, higher cadences can also be more efficient.

Indeed, part of the supposed reason for Tadej Pogačar switching to shorter cranks has been to allow for the rapid accelerations he produces to effectively fly away from the bunch en route to one of his signature solo victories. It becomes somewhat easier to ‘spin up’ the gear with a shorter crank, even if torque can be reduced. It used to be assumed that longer cranks meant a longer lever, which resulted in more watts, but with higher cadence at higher power outputs being more efficient and excessive torque application being a limiting factor for fatigue accumulation, shorter cranks make sense for elite riders.

With bikes such as the Factor One and its innovative take on bike geometry, there has been a clear shift in the WorldTour toward riders being positioned further forward over the bottom bracket, akin to a time-trial ‘lite’ fit. Shorter cranks can assist here as the hip angle does not get as closed off at the top of the pedal stroke, and can make pedalling and power production more efficient. This, in turn, can allow for a lower front-end position without impeding the pedal stroke, possibly creating a more aerodynamic position. So far, it's looking like the benefits of shorter cranks are endless.

But they are not without their flaws.

Firstly, from a performance perspective, they do have some downsides. Shorter cranks mean your legs do not extend as much at the end of the pedal stroke if saddle height remains the same. To counter this, you need to raise your saddle or get a lower-stack-height cleat and shoe options, which is not cheap. This, in turn, results in a larger frontal area, and I’ve seen wind-tunnel testing showing that shorter cranks and adjusting your position to accommodate the change in fit often add a small amount to the coefficient of drag. Raising the saddle also has a small impact on the centre of mass, raising it, which can marginally reduce stability when cornering. Visma - Lease A Bike addresses this by using Nimbl Shoes with four-bolt cleat mounting for Speedplay pedals, which results in a stack height of about 8.5mm vs 14.6mm for Shimano Dura-Ace pedals.

Shortening the cranks also reduces the total torque production possible. It's not a problem for the most part, but for sprinters, it has been found that shorter cranks can reduce peak power production.

We also have to consider that the majority of us are not professional road riders, spinning up climbs at 90-100RPM at 400+ watts. In addition to that, what is going to be most efficient for one rider is not necessarily going to be the most efficient for every rider.

An expert's view on crankarm length

To get more insight into this, I spoke with Phil Burt, an expert bike fitter who has worked with Team Sky/Ineos and British Cycling over the years.

His view on shorter crank arms is that there is very little downside, as long as riders adjust their bike fit to account for the changes shorter cranks make to hip and knee angles, as well as saddle height and setback.

“People who bought 165mm crank arms are not taking advantage of that, likely keeping their saddle height the same level and therefore compromising position and power. The benefit of short cranks is moving up and forwards, getting over the BB more without compromising knee angle. It loosens up the psoas muscle, and you don’t really pull up on the pedal angle anyway, which is what this muscle can help with, but you can limit stiffness with a wider hip angle.

The problem with really small cranks, such as 150mm, is that the bike ends up in quite a high position. Potentially 25mm higher than what many bikes are designed around.”

This is a very interesting point, as frames are designed around certain crank ideals, so the BB drop is designed to accommodate crank lengths of 170-175mm. Short cranks and the higher saddle will impact the centre of mass and handling.

“The big benefit with these shorter cranks is more inclusivity for fit for women and shorter-stature people. They are also better for people with biomechanical issues or injuries; especially as you age, it is more important to optimise fit as the optimal fit window shifts and gets smaller. Short cranks reduce impact on the hip and knee joints which just makes sense as you get older. It also reduces asymmetry, as you don’t have the extreme angles where imbalances are more prevalent. A good crank length rule of thumb is that 5mm shorter opens up the hip angle by 2-3%.

Negatives? It’s trendy, but it’s only a problem if you don’t address the changes needed when you switch to shorter cranks. You also need to ensure it will fit within your optimal fit window. The only real performance downsides are at 0-30RPM, then short cranks are not as good, so team sprint off the line, maybe super steep MTB, but not much, if any, impact on road performance.”

As a fun analogy for how shorter cranks have had positive performance gains right away, Phil shared this story about Bradley Wiggins before his Hour Record attempt.

“Back in 2015, we were looking to optimise the team pursuit squad. They were low and super aero with their thighs in their chest. We dropped them down to 165mm cranks across the board for aero and power, and it helped instantly. Bradley Wiggins was training for his Hour Record attempt, three weeks out, and came to talk with us. He changed from 177.5m down to 170mm, and was able to get a 30mm drop in front height and over 3% drop in CdA. The rest is history.”

Beyond performance

As Phil mentioned, one very important aspect of shorter cranks being more readily available is greater fit accommodations for a wider range of people. Cycling has traditionally been very male-focused, with all bikes coming with 172.5 or 175mm cranks. Fine for the average global male height 171cm. But the average global female height is 160cm, and you wouldn’t set up a bike fit for a 171cm person the same as for a 160cm person.

With the release of cranksets down to 150mm, SRAM has taken a great step towards greater fit inclusivity, be that for female riders, younger riders, or riders with conditions such as dwarfism. It may be coming off the back of a 175cm rider dabbling in short cranks for professional bike racing, but the wider implications of this release are highly positive. Perhaps just don’t switch to 150mm cranks on a whim, hoping it will make you climb as fast as Jonas Vingegaard. Instead, get a bike fit and select the correct crank length for your individual biomechanics and specific cycling goals.

This morning, I ascended a two-mile climb on my favourite 20-mile route. My heart rate peaked at 159bpm – just over three times its resting rate.

I was riding an electric bike, using a moderate power setting; not long ago, I’d have completed the route in full-power mode with a similar heart rate. Later, I nipped to Asda for some groceries, adding to my riding today.

Though I have been riding some sort of bike or e-bike for almost all my adult life, this year something bit me. I’ve upped my mileage from around 150 miles a year to 800 in the last six months; a third of this has been popping to the shops. Over that period, my Garmin smartwatch has recorded my resting heart rate falling from 61 to 51bpm. I have also lost 5kg, and my shrinking waistline means I increasingly need a new wardrobe.

Many inspirational writers say that they get up at 5:30 to work out as part of their journey to corporate success. For my part, a week after moving in with my wife in Weymouth (Dorset, UK) in November 2024, I found that I needed exercise to be easier to get along with. Initially I started going for a walk at 6am to prolong the marriage – a far more valuable result than any corporate success. However, more recently, the bike has taken over.

Nipping to the shop

1,100 miles of morning walks later, in late April this year, I found a way to secure my bike so it is as easy to use as getting in my car. This seems to have unleashed my riding in a big way. The supermarket Asda is 1.5 miles from me – a 10-minute ride down a shared-use cycling and walking path (the Rodwell Trail), that is just as quick as getting in the car and sitting in a traffic jam.

Ahead of the 2012 Olympic Games, my local Weymouth and Portland council created a fantastic cycling network around the town. As a result, around a third of my riding hasn’t been about marital harmony but instead getting a couple of days’ worth of groceries or nipping to town. At around 12p per mile in petrol, those avoided journeys would have cost approximately £32 in fuel. Charging the bike costs roughly 12p for every 60 miles, bringing the net saving to about £31.50 (just over $42 for our US readers).

A capable tank of a bike

Living in rural Dorset (Southwest England), with plentiful off-road opportunities including the beautiful Wessex Ridgeway Trail, I particularly liked the idea of a trekking e-bike.

I went for a Giant Talon E+ EX 29er that has a 250W Yamaha crank motor with 50Nm of torque, full mudguards and a rear pannier rack for around £2,500 (around $3,400). Honestly, though I sometimes used to brag I had it imported from Germany, it’s more like saying the same about a VW Golf rather than a Bugatti Veyron.

Over time, I replaced the saddle with a very comfortable one and swapped the coil-sprung fork for an air fork. Together, they have made off-road riding considerably more comfortable. I also use Maxxis Minion tyres for those moments when I need additional grip in thick mud.

Fitness measures

Though not clinical-grade measuring tools, the best smartwatches can give a rough indication of exercise intensity. My Garmin awards one intensity minute when my heart rate exceeds roughly 100bpm and two for each minute above 125bpm. These thresholds are personal to my device and settings. I aim for 70 intensity minutes a day, giving me a simple way to measure how hard I’m working rather than merely how far I’m riding.

Where I live now, I have miles of relatively safe and flat riding routes, and my morning blast is typically 7 miles with a modest climb midway. This is one of the keys to effective training – you push yourself a little harder after a period of comfort. When I’m feeling particularly hateful of my legs, I’ll do a nasty steep climb as part of the morning blast. That has brought me to a level of fitness where a 30-40-mile Saturday morning ride is now within reach.

From marital harmony to prosaic shopping trips, the bike has more than justified itself in my life. Though I still need the car, it has significantly reduced how much I use it, and in turn that has given me a new lease of life in terms of health, weight loss and general fitness.

Can you really get fit on an e-bike?

Electric assistance generally reduces the effort required compared with riding an unassisted bike, but that doesn’t mean e-cycling provides little exercise.

A 2022 meta-analysis of 14 studies found that e-cycling typically produced physiological responses equivalent to moderate-intensity physical activity. Although the responses were lower than during conventional cycling, they were generally higher than when walking.

Moderate exercise is not an upper limit. The intensity depends on the terrain, assistance setting and how hard the rider pedals. I use my e-bike as a tool for having more fun while exercising hard: on my latest Ridgeway climb, using assistance level 2/5, my heart rate peaked at 159bpm.

What Makes An E-Bike Road Legal?

In the EU and UK, an electrically assisted pedal cycle must have pedals capable of propelling it and a motor with a maximum continuous rated power of 250W. Electrical assistance must cut out at 15.5mph, although the rider can continue faster under leg power. Walk-assist throttles are permitted up to 6km/h.

Confusion persists even among police. West Midlands Police recently admitted that flawed testing led officers to seize and destroy a road-legal £6,500 cargo bike. The force dropped the case, apologised and agreed to pay compensation.

US regulations vary by state. Most use a three-class system: Classes 1 and 2 provide assistance up to 20mph, while Class 3 pedal-assist e-bikes can assist up to 28mph. Access to roads, cycle lanes and trails differs between states.

I'm time-crunched, how much training is enough when I'm fitting it around work and family?

Coaching amateur athletes as well as pros, it’s a question I hear often. Hobby riders see their friends and riding buddies racking up more hours than they have available, and end up asking: just how much should I be riding to get fitter?

Getting fitter is about generating stress and resting appropriately.

Stress comes through increasing volume or intensity; it can be tracked through measures such as Training Stress Score (TSS), which uses data from each ride to determine how much load the session has put on the body. If you use Strava, you’ll see this represented as ‘Relative Effort’. As we build up the stress, we provide the training stimulus for our bodies to become fitter.

However, without adequate rest, our body does not enter a state in which it starts to adapt to the training stress and generate improvements in fitness over time. Balance is essential; without it, we leave ourselves open to issues such as dysfunctional overreaching and overtraining syndrome, the latter of which can take months to recover from.

Amateur athletes also need to consider the sum of all stresses. Higher training load adds to stress, as does looking after a young child, having a stressful job, suffering from poor sleep, or inadequate fueling for sessions and recovery.

When speaking with riders I coach, the first thing I ask them when we start working together is how much time they realistically have to dedicate to training, while leaving enough time for work, family, life, and rest. It’s vital we correctly gauge the sum of all stresses and availability to both train and rest, for the work put in to be effective.

This then leads us on to the next component of training, which is the intensity distribution. You may have heard of polarized training and the 80/20 concept. This relates to the theory that 80% of time should be spent training at low intensities, and 20% at higher intensities. Professionals – who have more time to train – might work with a ratio closer to 90/10, fluctuating depending on the time of the season and goals. For those with less time, however, it can be better to spend more time at higher intensities, as you can generate a greater training stress across a shorter amount of time.

Real life examples

Andy took a look at the training volume carried out by some of his coached athletes, the volume and intensity split looks very different...

ATHLETE 1 – UCI Continental rider

• Hours trained: 18-24
• Sessions completed: 10 (x6 bike, x2 S&C, x2 heat session)
• Intensity split: 81/19 in favour of below Lactate Threshold 1/lower intensity

ATHLETE 2 – Medical shift worker, expecting a baby

• Hours trained: 6-8
• Sessions completed: 6 (x5 bike x1 S&C)
• Intensity split: 66/34 in favour of below Lactate Threshold 1/lower intensity

A good rule of thumb that I apply with my coached riders is to do between two to three sessions that include higher-intensity efforts (above 8/10 on the RPE scale or 80% of threshold) a week, making sure that none of them fall on consecutive days. For the rest of the time, it is ideal to include longer-duration endurance rides. By this, I mean sessions that are around 6 or 7/10 in effort, or 60-70% of threshold power, and ideally at least 2 hours long.

The duration of those longer rides is important as it’s at this point that muscle glycogen stores become depleted and we generate more of our fat-burning capacity, even with consumption of appropriate carbohydrates during the session. This in turn helps drive certain aerobic fitness elements which help us produce more power over longer durations of time or find longer rides easier.

In terms of the number of hours you should be aiming to target, this unfortunately depends on your specific circumstances. Plus, the more experienced you are or the more you train, the greater the training stress is required to see greater training gains.

If you can manage two to three 45-60 minute intense sessions a week, that is a good starting point. If you add to that, recovery rides or endurance rides are optimal, with the latter being at least two hours. If you have the choice between two 90min endurance rides at the weekend, and one three hour session, opt for the three hour session to generate the most aerobic training gains. But if 90 minutes is your maximum, it is better than nothing.

Ultimately, the optimum volume for you is individual, and quality beats quantity; three to seven hours of structured training will see you make greater gains than seven to ten hours of random efforts. Just remember, you do need rest; your work, family life, sleep and nutrition all play a role in your ability to recover.

This year's Tour de France was the hottest on record, with temperatures close to 40ºC for many hours of several stages. At the roadside, fans placed newspapers on their heads as ad hoc shelter, while cold drink were more elusive, and more craved, than a Tadej Pogačar autograph. Even so, the 184 riders who started the race in temperatures of 34°C in Barcelona seemed largely unaffected. And that’s not just thanks to the ice socks and slush puppies that they were fed on a daily basis – it was thanks to their preparation.

Heat training has become an indispensable part of a rider’s schedule, particularly in the last five years. Now, alongside 25-hour training weeks and leg-sapping efforts to get into Tour de France shape, riders complete hour-long indoor training sessions dressed in winter gear, with the aim of getting as hot and bothered as possible. Meanwhile, trips to the gym now include an obligatory 30-minute stay in the sauna.

These sessions are designed to help riders adapt to racing in the heat, particularly sweltering Grand Tours – yet not just to survive but to actually perform better. Studies over the past 15 years have consistently shown that both active and passive heat training have a positive effect on a rider’s performance.

“When you do heat training, you increase blood plasma volume – essentially, you dilute the blood,” explains Tim Podlogar, a lecturer in exercise physiology at the University of Exeter and a staff member of the Tudor Pro Cycling team. “This reduces the haematocrit – the percentage of blood volume made up of red blood cells – which serves as a trigger for the body to produce more of them. Research has shown that over a few weeks it can increase red blood cells in the same way as EPO or spending time at altitude.”

Crucially, these physiological effects are not reserved exclusively for WorldTour professionals. Amateur riders looking to conquer a summer sportive or improve their local time trial times can reap the exact same blood-boosting benefits from a few targeted, sweaty turbo sessions. If that feels like a step too far, then pity the pros. Training indoors in a boiler suit without a fan might seem like a grim prospect, but it’s a sacrifice that riders have to make nowadays if they want to be competitive in the world’s biggest race.

“Like with any training, you’re getting better no matter what, but if you don’t do heat training then you do definitely notice it,” says Australian climber Chris Harper, who is riding at the Tour for Pinarello Q36.5. “If you haven’t spent the time doing it then when you get into a race you feel underprepared. The benefits are the same as going to altitude but you can do it from home.”

The history of heat training

Climate change might be giving us more extreme temperatures – and the hot weather affecting Europe this summer has already broken several records – but training and racing in hot weather isn’t new. France in July is hot – and that’s when the race has been held since its first edition in 1903. What is relatively new is the Tour’s participants realising that they stand to gain from specifically training in the heat. Maybe they’ve been a little slow on the uptake, as Podlogar explains that the science isn’t novel: “The history of heat acclimatisation improving exercising performance in the heat dates back to the early 19th century, when people were sent to work in hot climates. After a few days of exposure to hot environments they became better accustomed to work in the heat.” This was especially true in the American Civil War of the 1860s, where heat casualties were mostly limited to new recruits, with veterans faring much better under the summer strain.

Yet for cyclists, training for warmer climes didn’t become popular until the mid-2010s, and it took a few more years for it to become ubiquitous. “A study in 2010 showed that heat acclimatisation improved exercise performance in both cool and hot conditions, and teams began using it,” Podlogar says. That study, by Santiago Lorenzo of the University of Oregon, USA, showed a performance improvement of 5% in cooler environments after just 10 days of heat acclimatisation.

Ahead of the Tour de France, and before other races in warmer climes, coaches now incorporate heat training into a rider’s schedule at least twice a week. “Scientific evidence is clear that to include heat acclimatisation, an athlete needs a minimum of five to nine sessions to get the benefits,” Podlogar says. “Men need at least five days of exposure, and women nine days.” Heat training also forms part of a rider’s schedule in the latter part of an altitude camp.

“I normally do it in December before going to the Tour Down Under, as you have the double benefit of coming from a cold European winter into a warmer climate, and I find that it’s a really great tool to get in shape in the winter,” says Jayco-AlUla’s Swiss rider Mauro Schmid. “I also try to do it a little bit in the summer as I can really achieve some great results with heat training.”

How to heat train safely

The methods of heat training are not complicated. The most common involves dressing up in winter gear or a one-piece impermeable suit such as painters overalls and pedalling on the turbo or rollers for around an hour at Zone 2. The key is not to stress the body further with high-intensity effort. The principal aim is to gradually raise the core body temperature to between 38.5°C and 39.5°C. Any hotter and the effects are counterproductive.

“You don’t just want to make the surroundings hot, but also humid, so that you can’t easily lose the heat,” says Puck Alkemade, the lead physiology researcher of Core, whose real-time core body temperature sensor is used by the majority of Tour de France teams. “If you’re exercising in a full-body suit, you are creating a micro-climate around you, from which the heat and sweat you produce cannot escape. This warms you up quicker, makes your body work even harder to keep sweating, and this causes the adaptation.”

Schmid admits that “it can be quite hard mentally on the rollers when it’s nice outside” but he trains regularly indoors all in the name of heat adaptation. Over the years, the 26-year-old has learned the best methods. “I think a lot of people go a bit too hard – it shouldn’t be super uncomfortable and you need to be careful that your heart rate doesn’t go too high,” he says. “I’m a believer in not overdoing it and I’d rather do a few more sessions without really pushing myself to the absolute limit, rather than doing fewer sessions but destroying myself.”

If you don’t fancy getting exceptionally sweaty on the turbo, an alternative is the passive approach: sitting in a hot bath or a sauna for 30-40 minutes. Again, the goal is targeting an elevated core temperature, being careful not to exceed 40°C.

In the bath, you won’t notice it, but you’ll be sweating buckets. Up to two litres of sweat loss over an hour is not uncommon. “As you become heat-adapted, you start to sweat earlier and produce more sweat, meaning your core temperature doesn’t rise as quickly during exercise than it otherwise would,” Podlogar explains.

Most riders opt for a hybrid approach, getting hot on the turbo, then having a hot bath. But which works best? “The science is not completely sure on this yet,” Podlogar says. “What seems fundamental is that you need to have a high core body temperature coupled with a high skin temperature, which together increase the sweat rate and acclimatise you to the heat.” Is simply riding outside in warm weather not good enough? “No – because no matter how hot it is, there’s still so much airflow around you, cooling you down,” Podlogar says. “Indoors, you can really control the environment.”

The role of the Core sensor

Core claims that two-thirds of the Tour peloton are wearing their Core sensor, either through official team partnerships or private agreements. Before the sensor, the only other way to measure the body’s core temperature was via a rectal thermometer – and that’s not viable while riding a bike.

Core’s non-invasive sensor sits on a chest band that pairs with a heart rate sensor. It estimates the body’s real-time core temperature from a calculation that takes into account skin temperature and heart rate. The company claims “medical-grade accuracy”, whereas a comprehensive scientific review of the sensor in 2021 reported that, compared to a rectal thermometer, the Core sensor is “acceptably reliable” albeit often underestimating core temperature by up to 0.3°C. More recent studies have supported these findings.

The Core sensor remains the thermometer of choice for the pro peloton – and there’s one key reason. “Sometimes how you feel doesn’t match with how hot you actually are,” says Alkemade. “The Core sensor is objective, and it tells you whether you’re overheating or not. This gives you a better understanding of how to hydrate and fuel, which is especially important for pro riders.” In other words, the sensor helps them to optimise their adaptations from heat training.

“You cannot always trust technology to the maximum, but the Core sensor is a good tool and I use it to watch my core temperature and to figure out where my limit is,” Schmid says. “When my temperature gets really high I stop earlier. It’s especially useful in racing as if you see you have a super-high temperature you need to be careful about pulling and not overdoing it. With a high core temperature it’s not a good idea to attack with 40km to go, for example, so it’s a good reminder to save the legs a little bit because sometimes you cannot feel that you’re overheating.”

Making heat training individualised

As Podlogar highlights, science’s understanding of how to maximise the benefits of heat training is incomplete. A decade from now, Tour riders will no doubt be using more advanced, precise methods. Heat training, though near-universally adopted, is still in its relative infancy. “In literature we say that we should aim for a core temperature of 38.5°C during heat training, but we don’t actually know if this is the optimal temperature for everyone,” Alkemade admits.

The future points towards a more individualised approach. “A rider might respond in a totally different way from one heat training session to another due to fatigue, a lack of sleep or for many other reasons,” Alkemade says. “It’s therefore hard to predict their response, and that’s where individual monitoring becomes more important.”

Podlogar, who co-authored that 2021 review into the Core sensor’s accuracy, is more interested in “really understanding what’s driving these adaptations – is it the skin or the core temperature? And how can we optimise the load of heat adaptation?” He’s also curious to find out which method, passive or active, is more beneficial, and how best to heat-train while at altitude. “There’s still lots we’re unsure of but it’s very clear that heat training does help,” he says. “What we do know is that you can’t win races in the summer without first doing some proper heat training.”

HEAT TRAINING IN NUMBERS

38.5-39.5°C The optimal core body temperature riders aim to reach while heat training.

5% The potential boost in cycling performance after just 10 days of heat acclimatisation.

5-9 The minimum number of heat exposure sessions required to trigger meaningful adaptations.

2L The amount of sweat a rider can lose during a single, hour-long heat training session.

>40ºC The danger zone that core temperature must not stray into.

TRY AT HOME WITH CAUTION

Be warned, heat training places extreme stress on the body and carries a risk of heat exhaustion or heatstroke. Pro riders perform these sessions under expert supervision using real-time core temperature monitors. Attempting this at home without accurate temperature tracking or medical clearance can be dangerous. Approach heat training with caution: ensure you are pre-hydrated with electrolytes, and stop immediately if you feel dizzy, nauseous, or faint. Never attempt to push through the warning signs of overheating.

This feature was originally published in the 9 July 2026 print edition of Cycling Weekly magazine – available to buy on the newsstand every Thursday (UK only). Digital versions are available on Apple News and Readly. Subscriptions through Magazines Direct.

This is a story that officially started while I was flying through the air. I’d just clipped the back-end of a medium-sized deer that had bounded into the path of my bicycle, and now I was airborne, en route to a violent meeting with the floor.

How long does it take to fall off a bike? One second? Two maybe? Three at push? However fleeting the flight, I had somehow found the time to engage myself in a lively discussion about the potential ramifications of a bad landing.

This was either going to end in a) scuffs, b) stitches or c) broken bones

I couldn’t help but dwell on the latter. Concerningly, not because of the pain element, but because broken bones require rest. And how exactly is life supposed to continue if I’m unable to ride my bike? I don’t do rest; I can’t do rest.

Strava recently sent me a notification, congratulating me on '400 uninterrupted weeks of training'. Instead of making me feel proud and accomplished, I felt a little uncomfortable – even before the crash, I’d wondered if I might have become somewhat of a slave to the sport. An exercise addict, even.

Touchdown was anything but smooth. A whirlwind of blood, dust and bad language tumbled down the trail. I’ve never witnessed such a comprehensive shredding of finery. My best shorts and jersey were ripped to pieces and my helmet – although having done a fine job of keeping me conscious – now sported a large crater. But all I could think about was whether or not the injuries I’d sustained would lead to the unthinkable – time off the bike.

Hobbling into A&E, I was subsequently told by a nurse that I’d either fractured or badly bruised my pelvis. Either way, depending on severity, the protocol is to spend three to 12 weeks resting. No exercise, no nothing.

He might as well have taken a knife to my heart, pulled down my carefully organised tapestry to day-to-day life.

“Three weeks?! And just what the hell do you expect me to do during these ‘three weeks’?”

A&E nurses rarely have the skill or capacity to offer advice to unhinged cycling addicts, so I decided to pose the question to Dr Josephine Perry, a sports psychologist who is well-read on this surprisingly common affliction. And it is an affliction.

“A lot of the time, we kind of joke about exercise addiction. I’ve even done a race where they had ‘running addict’ all over the medals, and it made me cringe inside because you’re making a badge of honour out of something that’s actually really harmful for many people,” Dr Perry stressed.

“We find exercise addiction worse in endurance sports. And the longer that you are going in your sport, the more likely you are to have that level of addiction,” she continued.

This rang alarm bells. I present an ultra-endurance podcast called 'Going Long'. I’m all about, well, going long.

“I did some research about 10 years ago now, and found that about 30 to 40% of ultra-endurance athletes showed levels of exercise addiction.”

So here I was: a statistic. But exercise addiction isn’t a one-size-fits-all ailment. For some it manifests as a part of an underlying eating disorder while others are so highly focused on their training that it becomes life-defining.

“I’ve known people that will run on stress fractures because they have to do a certain amount of mileage every week, even though it’s actually going to mean they’re not able to perform at a level that they want.” Dr Perry told me. “There will also be lots of people with things like RED-S, where exercise is a way of purging calories. And so actually, what’s often under there is an eating disorder.”

For me though, exercise is rewarded not by ticking off training sessions. Nor is it about purging calories, although the thought of jettisoning the day’s indulgences will always hold some appeal.

I ride, run and row because the day feels incomplete without having partaken of some form of exercise. It’s headspace, a habit, an addictive hit of dopamine. Take that away and, well, I’ll ask the question again: “what the hell am I supposed to do for three weeks?”

“I would find something else you can do to move safely. Some people will almost use it as a challenge of, well, actually, I’ll look at my gym and see what else is on offer, Dr Perry suggests.

“If you’re completely out of action, however, a lot of athletes I’ll get studying, so they have something else. I know quite a few actually who do things like cookery courses when they have their months off recovery after world championships and stuff. The main thing is to do things intentionally to fill that space.”

While I’m certainly not recovering from any world championships, I do have a month living and working in Tenerife planned for next January. So what will I be doing for the next three (to 12!) weeks?

Learning Spanish, apparently. And possibly, maybe, definitely planning an Everesting attempt on Mount Teide. I suppose some addictions are easier to manage than others.

How to combat exercise addiction

Steve's outlook on exercise addiction might be lighthearted, but it is an issue that can seriously impact lives. Cycling Weekly published an in-depth look at exercise addiction, how to spot it and tips for addressing it here. Below, Dr Josephine Perry offers some advice on those dealing with exercise addiction.

Develop other identities Don’t let being a cyclist, runner or athlete become your entire identity. Perry recommends developing other interests and roles so you have something to fall back on when sport is taken away.

Learn to be flexible Perfectionism and rigid thinking can make it difficult to adapt when injury or circumstances prevent training. The aim is to become more mentally flexible and adaptable.

Find another way to move If you’re injured, look for forms of exercise or movement that are safe for your injury. I have dusted off my jigsaw with a view to rekindling my love of woodwork. One door closes…

Find another goal Invariably we’re training towards a goal – having no target at all can leave a big void. Replace the physical goal with something else to work towards – studying, learning a skill, or another challenge.

Fill the space deliberately If training normally occupies several hours of your week, don't simply leave a hole where it used to be. Use that time intentionally.

Remember what exercise gives you For many athletes, exercise isn't just about performance. It regulates stress and emotions. When injury takes it away, you need to find alternative ways to manage that stress – whether that's movement, reading, baking or seeing friends.

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.