Photo: Robertson/Velodramatic
We finished! More than a week later, it’s still sinking in. When you accomplish something so grand that you weren’t sure you could complete it, you end up immensely proud—that it, after you can finally believe you did what you did.
On one hand, the ride doesn’t seem that hard. Plenty have pointed out correctly that we were riding, not racing. It’s a lot like a well-supported bike tour. You ride slowly, all day long. There are no attacks to cover, no finish lines to sprint for. Excepting times when the road pitched to double-digit grades, I never had to ride at a super high intensity. Our special WiFLi gearing from SRAM let us spin up all but the steepest climbs.
However, unlike a bike tour, we didn’t have the luxury of taking a day off when we felt too tired, or shortening our route if we wanted to. By adhering to the real Tour de France race course, we had to ride an average of 105 miles a day, sometimes more than 150 miles, and climb an average of 7,600 vertical feet per day for 20 days with only two rest days. Looking back on some of those long days (Stages 10 and 16 topped the charts by climbing more than 16,000 vertical feel each), I still wonder how we did it. Finishing one stage alone would be impressive, but riding that much for three weeks. . . that’s A LOT of riding.
We had top-of-the-line equipment, generous sponsors, and had spent months training to the best of our abilities. All of those factors helped us reach the finish line in Paris. However, I believe the most important factor in completing the ride was in our minds. Our mental dedication to completing the ride was unwavering. To me, it was totally unacceptable to DNF this ride, unless something absolute prevented me from riding. My teammates felt the same.
To get through the long days, we developed great mental strength AND flexibility. No real food to eat and four hours until we get dinner after an eight-hour stage? It’ll be okay. Lost on our bikes at 7 PM and can’t find our hotel after 137 miles? It’ll be okay. Road debris halts one rider’s bike on the first of four climbs during the hardest stage of the Tour? It’ll be okay. Sick to my stomach and still have 110 miles to ride? It’ll be okay.
Returning home to real life, I try to remember the punches we rolled with on the Tour. It taught me that the problems we have are only as bad as we let them be, and that most problems we have really aren’t that bad. If something won’t be a big deal in five years, there’s no use flipping out about it. Take a deep breath and smile.
While we reached our goal of completing the Tour de France, we still haven’t reached our goal of raising $60,000 for Bikes Belong. If you believe in a better future for bicycling, and the power of bikes to change our cities and our lives, please donate here today.
Thanks to everyone who supported the Reve Tour and believed in us, even if you weren’t sure we could finish. To our great sponsors, donors, and anyone who rooted for us—thank you!
