One Year On: Lessons from a Broken Back
One year after a high-speed crash left me with a burst vertebra and an uncertain future, I’m reflecting not on the pain, but on the process — the quiet, determined journey of healing, adapting, and rediscovering who I am beyond the results. This isn’t just a story about injury and recovery; it’s about transformation, patience, and what it means to keep showing up — day by day, stage by stage.
Photo credit: Olivia Hugh
I don’t usually keep count. I’m not one to mark the anniversary of a crash or dwell on moments of misfortune. It’s never been my way to adopt a victim mentality — I’ve always believed in moving forward, learning from the past, and using adversity as fuel. But today, one year on from a crash that could have changed everything, I feel it's worth pausing to reflect. Not to relive the pain, but to acknowledge the process — and the growth that came from it.
It was Stage 1 of the Volta Catalunya. A high-speed sprint finish. Just a few hundred meters from the line, a rider slid out in front of me. I had nowhere to go. The crash happened in an instant. There was no time to think, no space to react. I took the initial impact on my head, and then my back folded violently beneath me. That force is what caused the burst fracture.
The moment I came to — lying on the road — I knew something was terribly wrong.
The diagnosis: a burst fracture of my T10 vertebra. An unstable injury, with a bone fragment dangerously close to my spinal cord. The kind of injury that usually requires surgery. But thanks to an incredible medical team, we opted for a conservative approach — no operation, just time, patience, and a very strict back brace. It was the right call, but it came with uncertainty, fear, and many long nights lying still, hoping the bone wouldn’t shift, praying the nerves would stay untouched.
For the first two weeks, I didn’t take the brace off. Not even to sleep. I was terrified of making one wrong move. I broke the process into phases. First, survive those two weeks. Then, gradually start moving again. I vomited constantly the first few days — a side effect of the trauma to my spine and nervous system. One of those days, I lay in bed and thought, this is it. But I made it through.
And then, in true me fashion, I was back on the Tacx trainer on Zwift. Back brace on, mind focused, eyes on the Olympic Games and the Tour de France Femmes. It was a fine line between risk and resilience — between pushing forward and holding back. But I knew that if I could control my environment, I could take back some power. So I controlled what I could: my mindset, my movement, my approach.
I’m no stranger to injury. Perhaps the most formative one came long before I turned pro — in my final year of school, during a horse riding accident. I wasn’t wearing a helmet. I hit my head on a concrete block and was placed in an induced coma for ten days. Doctors said I’d never finish school. That I’d never be the same again. That I’d be brain damaged. But I recovered in three months, finished school with seven distinctions, and went on to study chemical engineering. That experience shaped me — not just physically, but mentally. It taught me that adversity is not the end of the story; it’s often the beginning of a new one.
Throughout my career, I’ve faced setbacks — broken collarbones, a fractured ilium in a violent time trial crash in 2016 — each time, learning that recovery isn’t linear, and that patience is often the most powerful kind of strength.
This broken back, though — it’s been different. Longer. Deeper. It’s forced me not only to recover physically, but to reconfigure how I relate to my body, my goals, and the athlete I strive to be.
The bone has now fully remodeled. It’s not the shape it once was — no longer a square but a wedge. My body has adapted to accommodate it, and that’s been its own journey: managing spasms, strengthening the surrounding muscles, and re-learning what “normal” feels like.
But let me be clear: I haven’t accepted that I won’t be the rider I was before. In fact, I haven’t yet had the chance to fully focus on the marginal gains again — on performance in its purest sense. I believe I could come back stronger. Smarter. More complete.
What I have done is learned how to adapt. How to contribute in new ways. How to reinvent myself in the face of challenge. Because that’s what life — and a long career — is all about. Maybe I’m not always the rider chasing results at the front, but I’ve grown into a road captain, a mentor, a leader. I’ve learned to bring value in other ways, and that too is something I’m proud of.
If there’s one overarching lesson this year has taught me, it’s that there is no such thing as instant success. We live in a world obsessed with quick results — with winning now, with bouncing back fast. But real transformation doesn’t happen that way. True growth — in sport, in life, in ourselves — takes time. It’s a process.
And in many ways, it mirrors a Grand Tour. You don’t win it in a day. You win it by showing up — stage after stage — navigating the highs and lows, weathering the crashes, adjusting when plans fall apart, and always keeping your eyes on the bigger picture.
So no, I don’t celebrate crash anniversaries. But today, I acknowledge the journey. And I recommit — to the process, to the pursuit of excellence, to becoming the best version of myself. Maybe it won’t look exactly like it did before. Maybe it will look even better.
The fire still burns. I’m still here. And I’m still moving forward.
A Zwift Victory
The countdown timer for the race to start ticked over on the screen. I sat mounted on my bike, warmed up and ready to go, completely focused. I was genuinely in race mode and, after almost a month in lockdown, that was a welcome feeling. But the unfamiliarity of e-racing was making my heart beat a little faster.
I had been invited to race the Zwift Classic Trofeo Bologna but initially I was hesitant. I’ve made a big effort to embrace Zwift since lockdown but I had been watching some of the other pro races and the power stats were intimidating. I had never done an e-race before so I also wasn’t sure how to strategize or use the power-ups. Even though I had actually raced the course in real life, this really was racing in a different world, but the newly addicted Zwift athlete in me couldn’t say no.
In the comfort of my own home, I waited for the start absolutely tingling with nerves. I hadn’t been this nervous for a race in years! When the race officially began, I over-powered the start and shot right out in front. In the peloton I was like a yo-yo. As a first-time e-racer, I didn’t have a sense of the delay between pedal power and on-screen position. I would be leading the race and then almost out the back, off the front and then instantly back to 30th. Eventually, I got the balance right and as we approached the first ascent up the Madonna di San Luca, I moved to the front and set the pace. I crested with only one other rider but we were caught at the bottom of the descent by a chase group of eight riders. By then, however, I had the hang of things.
I sat in the wheels, taking my turn on the front but also saving my legs as much as I could. In the one-day Giro dell'Emilia, we race up the Madonna di San Luca so, even though I was an avatar in a computer-generated representation, I knew exactly what to do. When the gradient screamed up on a sharp hairpin around 1 kilometer to go, I attacked. In the 2016 Giro dell'Emilia, I had come up short and finished second to Elisa Longo Borghini but that wasn’t happening today. As my family stood right next to me in the grips of excitement, cheering me on, I put down the watts and claimed the victory.
My family swarmed around to congratulate me, as did the virtual community. I knew the London Dynamo Club I often rode with on Zwift were watching from England and their messages began to pour in. I had tons of messages from riders I knew in real life and riders I had only ever “met" in Watopia. A lot of people were reaching out and, maybe it’s because of lockdown and the current situation, but the response seemed bigger than some of my real-life race wins.
The race was only 41 minutes so, even though it was around 21:00, I rode on for a long time after. The house settled back to quiet but I could feel there was lift in the atmosphere, a buzz from the race. I never imagined that Zwift would be such a big part of my life and I definitely never imagined I would be the winner of an e-race! I also never imagined that physical distancing would bring the cycling community so close together or that our sport would continue on in such a new way. Change brings uncertainty, as my racing nerves reminded me, but it also brings the hope and excitement of new opportunities and that makes my heart beat a little faster too.
Ashleigh´s Coconut Fish Curry Recipe
I absolutely love food and for me there’s nothing more satisfying than cooking a delicious meal for friends, family, and sometimes even guests at Rocacorba Cycling. Seeing people’s expressions as they tuck into a delicious meal brings me joy.
For me one of the things I enjoy most about cooking, is experimenting with flavours from different parts of the world. At the moment I’m really enjoying Indian and Thai flavours, and during the Coronavirus lockdown I’ve had more time than usual to experiment with new combinations.
I would like to share with you my recipe for my favourite dish at the moment; it is a colourful hake and prawn one-pot infused with a combination of Indian and Thai inspired flavours. The great thing about this dish is that it is super quick and easy to make, and is absolutely bursting with flavour.
Prep Time: 15 mins
Cook Time: 15 mins
Serves 4… or in the case of Carl and I, maybe only 2 ;-)
INGREDIENTS:
1 tbsp olive oil
1 onion, finely chopped
thumb-sized piece of ginger, finely grated
3 garlic cloves, crushed
1 anchovy fillet, finely chopped and mashed
1 small red chilli, shredded (deseeded if you don’t like it too hot)
rind of 1 lemon, finely grated
1 heaped tbsp medium curry powder
1 heaped tbsp muscovado sugar (or any brown sugar will do)
small bunch coriander, stems finely chopped
400g can coconut milk
450g skinless hake fillets, cut into generous rectangles
220g pack frozen raw whole prawns
1 lime, halved
cooked rice, to serve
METHOD
Heat the oil in a crockpot or lidded frying pan, then soften the onion for 5mins. Stir in the ginger, garlic, anchovy, chilli, and lemon rind, and cook for 2mins. Add the curry powder and sugar, and keep stirring. When the sugar starts to melt, add the coriander stems, coconut milk and a little water, then bring to a simmer.
Add the fish and prawns to the sauce, then squeeze over half the lime. Pop on the lid and simmer for about 5 mins or until the hake is just cooked and flaking, and the prawns are pink through. Taste for seasoning and add the remainder of the lime juice if you like. Scatter over the coriander leaves and serve with rice.
Finding Peace and My Place in Lockdown
So, life has changed. If you’re a human on the planet, you’ve been affected by Coronavirus. For us at Rocacorba Cycling in Spain, that has meant full lockdown. It happened with very little notice and, with the exception of groceries, medical care, or walking a pet, we are confined to our homes.
The notice of our lockdown came fast. In about 48 hours we went from rumours to “effective immediately” and with that came a lot of fear and questions. As the gravity of reality sank in, so did my fear about the future. In the big picture of life, sport is not an essential good. Everyone is vulnerable—physically, mentally, and economically—and in such unprecedented times, I was struggling to find peace and place in the global pandemic.
The biggest obvious challenge for me was shifting all my training indoors. I’ve always rather put on a jacket and trained outside, rain or snow, so, I’ll be honest, I wasn’t looking forward to being stuck inside. But, whether injury, illness, the racing calendar, team decisions, training, family, work, or whatever, the best athletes are the ones that can adapt, period. Ready or not, I had to rise to this scary and extraordinary challenge.
Rocacorba Cycling has always had a top-of-the-line indoor training set up thanks to our friends at Zwift. With a Tacx smart trainer and Zwift, I knew I had the best possible tools for success. Still, I wasn’t sure how I was going to keep it together mentally. A week was one thing. I was confident I could handle three even four weeks but what if it was longer? What about the Olympics? CCC-Liv?
I just started out riding around Wattopia (one of the Zwift virtual worlds). Pretty quickly, I started to discover all the people; I began joining group rides and eventually started hosting meet-ups of my own. I rode with guests who were supposed to be staying with us, friends from across the planet who I never get to ride with, and I’ve even joined the London Dynamos for what’s become a regular Saturday morning ¨race¨. A whole new world of indoor training opened up to me and with real people behind every avatar, there was real engagement, real fun, and even real DOMS. I have a meet-up almost every day now and, unexpectedly, it’s actually allowed me to be more social than ever.
It took a while but I began to make peace with the situation. The Olympics weren’t gone, they were just a little bit farther away. The races would come back and I hoped women’s cycling would be able to find more ground in a post-pandemic world. We might not be racing as CCC-Liv but we were still very much a team. We had started meeting twice a week over the internet and that was actually bringing us closer together. The future of cycling was going to be different but CCC-Liv was already building a new, stronger normal and that security and support is just as comforting as it is a source of motivation.
And I had also found my place: the indoor trainer. I felt blessed to be healthy and committed to doing my part and staying home. I was grateful that technology and Zwift allowed me to continue working and more grateful it became a source of motivation that also kept me connected to so many people.
Rising to the challenge of Coronavirus, for me, has meant finding my place and making peace with reality and the unknown. Lockdown, no matter how long it will be, is always going to be hard but doing our part and staying safe from COVID-19 is about physical distance not social isolation. Whether it’s training inside and meeting-up for virtual rides, making a home office or a home gym, or picking up the phone and giving a friend or family member a call, staying together is the best way we can all rise to the challenge, stay healthy, and make it through Coronavirus.
First Look At Our All New Bike Area
Just over 12 months ago we took the high-pressure hose to the floor in the downstairs vaults. As the concrete started to emerge so did our ideas for what those rooms could become. We wanted a visually stunning but also practical bike area where we could store and work on bikes but which also doubled as a comfortable place for guests to shower, change, and sit on the sofa with a coffee after a ride.
The end result is better than we could have imagined.
Training in Lockdown
Spain is in full lockdown to help slow the spread of the coronavirus which has meant I’m doing all of my training on Zwift. Zwift has been a real lifesaver for me (especially because of the meet-up feature) but, even if you don’t have access to Zwift or a smart trainer, if you’re riding indoors, these are a few things I’ve learned in the past two weeks.
1. Adjust your power. Drop your watts, scale down your FTP, and recalibrate your brain to those numbers. Riding inside is harder and if you try to match your outside numbers you will pay for it!
2. Focus on the feeling. Since your power won’t be what you’re used to and you may have to adjust normal training sessions, take your heart rate into consideration and always factor in your RPE (rate of perceived exertion). Listen to your body. In races you rely on your instincts anyway so it’s great practice for getting in touch with your body.
3. Indoor trainers function best with cadence around 80-90 RPM. Under or over and your training might be compromised. I’ve been trying to execute some high torque, low cadence strength intervals but with the smart trainer, sticking to cadence targets isn’t effective; instead, I focus on the feeling.
4. Reduce the volume by 20-30%. Riding inside is a constant effort. Although on Zwift you get a sense of drafting and going downhill, you still have to pedal. I’ve been adjusting my 5 hour rides to 3 hours and my 3 hour rides to 2 hours.
5. Don’t forget to fuel. Although your sessions might be shorter, don’t be tempted to skip nutrition. I set up a table next to the trainer and stock it with dates, homemade banana bread and lots of liquids to ensure I’m fuelled and hydrated.
6. Lastly, let go of perfection. A long period of indoor training is a big mental challenge. You might be used to structure and nailing each session but accept that indoor training is different and allow your training and expectations to adjust.
Transformation Underway
Can Campolier is a bit like an archeologist dig: we slowly uncover the past and discover new potential as we make our way through the house. We always had the idea to develop the downstairs area but it wasn’t until we took a high pressure hose to the floor and walls that we really saw all that it could be.
Originally, the downstairs was where some of the livestock were housed and cared for. When we moved in, there was even still old hay piled up in the corners. It was dusty, dark, and, frankly, we had other areas to focus on. But as the business expanded, we needed more space. Slowly, the downstairs became storage and then, over time, it was clear it had to be cleaned up and made into a proper usable space.
We started to clean, chip away at the disintegrating concrete, and then the vision was really clear. We called in the contractors. In a few weeks the team of 8 workers had transformed the area and revealed beautiful arched ceilings, exposed stone walls, and a crystal clear vision. It would be a space that was all about the bike. Of course, our bike workshop and rental bikes would be stored there but now it would also be a space for riders with shower facilities, seating areas to enjoy a coffee or two, and space to get ready to ride.
Plus, we all kinda liked that the foundation of the house is the foundation of our business: bikes.
Although it has moved on from cattle to bikes, as with the rest of Can Campolier, we will preserve the authentic feel of the space. Our top of the line carbon Cervelos and 3Ts will be perfectly at home next to the old brick but we hope bringing the space back into use will also tie a little of our cycling DNA into Can Campolier.
Work is still ongoing with but we look forward to sharing coffees and ride stories in our new cycling zone very soon.
Bringing The Fire
There wasn’t going to be fireworks this race, it was going to be a patient burn. The relatively short 104km course left a lot to be desired with nothing more than a few roughly surfaced uphill drags and undulations to test the peloton. I wanted a hard race so, even though I was happy it wasn’t another 38°C day like TT champs, I knew the parcours weren’t enough to make the race.
My strategy became more about patience rather than power. In the past, I probably would have attacked a lot, tried to liven up the race and risked the win in favour of good racing; but with experience comes composure. We ticked over the majority of the race but, finally, with 12km to go, I turned up the heat and attacked. Carla Oberholzer came with me and, although we were working well together, we were brought back by the bunch with 5km to go. The composure I had maintained the whole race was wearing thin.
Just then, however, we rolled over a section of really rough rumble strips and suddenly, my gears were frozen. Luckily, I was stuck in the middle of the cassette but then, of course, someone attacked on the downhill. With some furious cadence I was able to stay with the bunch and thankfully no one seemed to noticed. I couldn’t believe it. I had kept it together the whole race and now, with the national title being decided in a matter of kilometres, I only had two gears.
Image: Cyclenation
This was really the moment for composure. But it was also the moment for fire. I wanted the win badly and, two gears or no gears, I had to keep it together and wait for the right moment. I took a calming breath, I got into position, and at the exact spot I had planned, I laid it down. I had the lead but the entire bunch reacted and I could feel the heat of the chase. By less than a second, I crossed the line first and took the title.
The rush of winning is always special but, unlike most races, the national champs win is something you get to be proud of every time you pull on the jersey. I’m really proud of the way I raced; even when it was time to bring the fire, I kept my cool from start to finish. Especially in an Olympic year, I’ll be proud to wear the South African colours for the 2020 European season.
On Fire at TT Champs
We’re up in the far north of South Africa. It’s beautiful but it’s seriously hot—38C hot—it’s humid, plus there’s even a risk of malaria. It’s definitely not Europe, it’s home and it’s national championships time.
I’ve been training up at altitude in Mpumlanga for the past few weeks and it’s actually been refreshing to get back to what we used to do. Back to the tried and tested winter training that has always put me in a great place for the European season. Great training, fantastic weather, a good healthy dose of the homeland and, of course, national individual time trial championships as the first race of the season.
The 20km time trial was an out and back course with the first half dragging uphill. I went out hard to take advantage of the uphill and had the rider who started 1 minute before me, Carla Oberholzer, within my sight fast. Carla was the perfect carrot to chase and I made the pass at the turnaround point.
Image: Cycle Nation
I maintained a good advantage, as per my race strategy, but with 4km to go all I was thinking was “where is this finish line?!”. I was boiling hot. At that point, I had no fluids on my bike and my core temperature felt like I had swallowed the sun. Carla came back and passed me. Chasing her and dreams of ice cold water at the finish line, I kept her in reach and crossed the finish line just behind her.
I had a good feeling I had the win but I also felt like a human desert. First priority was liquid and lots of it. Thank goodness for my support team and the 4 bottles of cold water I chugged immediately. The weather would be similar in Tokyo so, actually, it was a good experience to have now to better prepare for the Olympics—a realization that only came after bottle of water #2.
The results became official and I had done it! I am the 2020 South African Time Trial Champion and I am so proud to earn the title back, especially in an Olympic year, and take the stripes up to Europe for the rest of the season.
The 104km road race is in a few days and, hopefully, the only thing that will be on fire are my legs!
Image: Cycle Nation
You can follow the race here.
Jeroboam Comes to Rocacorba Cycling - 27th October 2019.
The Jeroboam is a gravel series across Europe with events in Italy, Switzerland, Czech Republic, and now--new for this year--Spain, hosted right here at Rocacorba Cycling on the 27th of October 2019. “Jeroboam” is a 300cc wine bottle, the equivalent of 4 normal wine bottles. But what exactly is “gravel”? We think the Jeroboam team said it best:
“Originally it was a road surface. Then it became a type of bike capable of much more than just riding on gravel. Now above all, ‘gravel’ is a way of cycling: discovering new places and people and the fun on the journey rather than just getting to the finish line fast.”
Gravel is quintessentially about exploring so forget the boundaries of the road, the limitations of mountain biking, and redefine your idea of what a cycling event is all about. The Jeroboam isn’t a race, it’s not a gran fondo, it’s not a cycling tour…we know you’re curious, keep reading.
As the name suggests, the title course of every location is a 300km epic gravel route with a mix of dirt, single track, and road. There are also 150km, 75km, and 35km distance options so there is something for every level. However, the 2019 edition will be a test event for the official Jeroboam Spain in 2020. While the 2020 event will have an epic 300km course through the mountains and the coastline of the Costa Brava, the longest route option for 2019 will be a 150km route towards the Costa Brava. There will be shorter 75km as well. Naturally, we will be testing the Jeroboam Village too so there will be good food, rewarding drinks, great places to stay, good friends new and old, and a great vibe.
If you’re a seasoned gravel rider, get in at the beginning of Jeroboam Spain and experience the unforgettable terrain and our friendly hospitality. Let us know what you’d like to see in 2020 and get a sneak peak if you’re already thinking of the 300! If you’re new to gravel riding, get excited. There is a whole new world of riding out there on gravel. Either way, test here, get riding, and go gravel.
As a 3T Experience Centre, Rocacorba Cycling is equipped with the best and latest 3T gravel bike, namely the 3T Exploro. The Exploro is designed to be fast on and off the road; it’s versatility knows no bounds. Book your 3T Exploro for the Jeroboam now or come test out gravel with one of our experienced guides.