It has been hard not to notice the number of young riders who have been upping sticks and leaving the pro ranks this season. This has been at the forefront of my mind lately, having spent time researching and writing a piece on exactly this subject, and asking what’s going on.
We’ve all been wondering the same thing. Burnout and ‘falling out of love with the sport’ has been a frequently-cited reason for dropping out of the pack for good – but what drives someone to fall out of love with the sport they have dedicated themselves to – in many cases for most of their young lives?
James Shrubsall
James began at Cycling Weekly as a sub-editor in 2000 when the current office was literally all fields. He brings his own perspective on the world of cycling every week, from his own rides to the big picture.
But what if we’re asking the wrong question here? Maybe the real puzzle is exactly how and why a modern rider might be expected to stick out it all the way to the end of a 15-year pro career.
Dream versus reality
I’m reminded of my own dreams as a kid, and the vivid memory of a 13-year-old me declaring that one day, I wanted to be a pro cyclist and ride the Tour de France.
Never mind that I didn’t have a hope. My natural ability on the bike is average as it gets and I didn’t actually race a bike until I was 18 anyway. By modern standards I ought to have been sifting through WorldTour contract offers by then.
But the point is that once I was better acquainted with the sport – something that was definitely supercharged by working in cycling media – it didn’t take me long to realise that the world of pro cycling was stressful, brutal and relentless and would very much have not been for me.
It feels like those challenging aspects of the sport have only been amplified in the past six or seven years, with the emergence of superstars like Tadej Pogačar and Remco Evenepoel. These riders have emerged seemingly fully-formed straight out of the junior ranks. This is all well and spectacular until you’re a young rider yourself, perhaps still just 23, and your teams (and its fans) are looking at you wondering why you haven’t won a major race and whether you’ll actually amount to anything.
Pressure to win is one thing, but cycling is a sport that comes with immense risk. Breaking bones is de rigeur and, tragically, there is even the risk of death. In any race, at any moment.
Canadian rider Mike Woods, who retires this year, put it best when he wrote: “I once asked staff on my team: how much would they have to be paid, to drive around in a car at 50 km/h, 70 days a year, for 4-5 hours per day, in a T-shirt and shorts, and twice per year—with no control over when or where—they would be pushed out of the car?
He added: “Statistically, that is roughly how many times the average pro rider crashes per season. Not one of the staff said less than 500k, and when I asked how many years they would do it, not one said more than two.”
Always on duty
The other, less extreme, example is the physical hardship of training and the social and family time sacrificed. There are no real ‘off’ days. You don’t sign off after a training ride, put your feet up and drink a beer and forget all about it for 15 hours. You’re always on duty, carefully curating your food intake so as to preserve your racing weight; always having an early night so you get sufficient recovery to take on the next day’s ride, which may be five hours or more in single-digit temperatures and rain. As I say – relentless.
It would be easy to simply point out that pro riders have been crashing and enduring the daily physical hardships of le metier since time immemorial – or at least since the turn of the century. But crucially, we don’t exist in 1903.
Dr Steve Mayers, the clinical psychologist I spoke to for the investigation piece I wrote, pointed out that in the modern age, we all have unprecedented access to the lives of our peers. Social media bombards us with images of other people having a jolly good time, all the time. And if you’re having yet another quiet night in a cheap hotel, having destroyed yourself out on the road only to finish midpack (again), and the time on your contract is ticking… how long before that stress tips over into something unmanageable?
Cycle racing was, traditionally, a ‘peasant’s’ sport. Many escaped tough lives working in fields or mines to carve out an equally tough but far better paid life on the road. That’s no longer the case. It’s largely a middle-class sport now, due to how expensive it is to buy a good bike, let alone take the time to train, eat properly, and develop without a ‘proper’ job.
Many of today’s young riders are degree educated or higher – or certainly could be if they had finished their education – and they know there is a comfortable life (and better paid in many cases) waiting for them that doesn’t involve the daily struggle to wring out every part of your existence in search of the few extra watts that will secure you a contract extension.
Pro cycling no doubt brings its rewards. Camaraderie, the joy that only being in the saddle can bring, and for some, the money’s not bad either. The lucky few will even get to experience glory. For anyone that lasts the distance, I salute you. But today’s young riders understand and place great store on their physical, mental and emotional health, and they know when enough’s enough. Good for them, I say.
