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.
The Sting Of Bad Luck
Flanders is one of those races where it still means something if you finish. The tiniest country roads, the unforgiving rough and stupidly steep cobbles, the blood sport fight to position yourself before the climbs, and don’t forget the weather if Mother Nature decides to show up. Actually, it’s one of those races where it still means something if you start and CCC-Liv started perfectly.
No doubt it was the best race we had done as a team. For the first 115 kilometres we had this amazing rhythm, operating like a well-oiled machine and then some. We were riding together, positioned well, Marianne felt amazing and so did I. To have everyone come together like that, it was just another level. We had the goods to pull off a win, we just needed the luck.
The final 30 kilometres is where the big bets are made. I knew we had the fire power to execute the final strategy but as we got together on the Kanarieberg (climb #6) someone switched my wheel. Somehow I didn’t crash and, after a quick foot down, I started to chase back. I wasn’t too far behind but there also wasn’t a lot of time before the next climb, the cobbled Taaienberg (climb #7), where the pressure would continue.
I didn’t have a choice: I had to go all in to catch the peloton or it was race over. I didn’t even have to think about making a decision, my legs were already powering across the gap and up the Kanarieberg.
Image: Jojo Harper
Now, I know Belgian roads. I’ve raced in Belgium for many years. I know the cobbles, the narrow roads, the road furniture, and the wide crack right down the centre of their concrete roads. I’m always aware of that crack. I know it’s there but as if two hands reached up and grabbed my wheels, out of nowhere my bike instantly came to a complete stop. My wheels were both perfectly stuck in that centre crack. Like walking into a glass door, it caught me so off guard I only realized what had happened after I hit the ground, slid across the road into the ditch, and came to a stop in stinging nettles.
Grazed and confused, I got up and back to my bike. The drivetrain was all messed up. I definitely needed a new bike but, after the big splits on the Kanarieberg, the team cars were too far behind. Everything had happened so fast that I could actually still see the bunch ahead. It didn’t matter what I had, I needed to go all in again if I was to get back.
Image: Oliver Grenaa
My body was stinging all over from nettles and road rash but my muscles were working. I got back up to speed and as I clicked into an easier gear as I hit the bottom of the Taaienberg, my derailleur went into my back wheel and fell off! “Ok, that’s it,” I thought with a sigh. With the odds so stacked against me, it was smarter to save my legs for the next race.
Up at the front Marriane wasn’t faring much better with a poorly timed puncture. I couldn’t help but feel disappointed; it really wasn’t our day. You can have the best legs and the best team on the day but to win a bike race you always need some luck or, at least, no bad luck. Still, we had finished one of the toughest Spring Classics and the magic of the first 115 kilometres made me believe at the next race our luck would change.
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One Step Closer
There was a whole lot of orange when I got back to Spain. Back with my South African National Champs title and over six weeks on the road, I was happy to be back home and even happier to have the entire CCC Liv team there—it was orange from inside out! I love being in a team environment and, I have to admit, I felt quite spoilt having a team camp at my house and in the place I love to ride my bike. I couldn’t wait to show everyone everything! Nevertheless, with all the Liv bikes lined up in the courtyard, the big orange truck, the staff, and all the riders, I was also a bit apprehensive. It was the first professional team camp we would host at Rocacorba Cycling so, although I was excited, I also felt the weight of the opportunity.
As a rider, I knew the camp would go well. Team camps are usually hosted at big hotels with average food in a strange place that boasts nothing but good weather. Here, not only did we have amazing weather, we also had the stunning superior roads of Girona and the comforts and athlete-friendly catering of Rocacorba Cycling all to ourselves. The riders and staff each had their own house so coming back to a home, sharing meals all together, and having the property to ourselves really allowed everyone to relax and settle in. I didn’t have to wonder if things were going well, I could feel it and I was hearing it. As we explored the Costa Brava and the Pyrenees under the sun, there was a definite consensus that Calpe and Almeria were out and Girona was in.
As the ten-day camp came to an end and we all prepared to travel to our first European race, Setmana Ciclista Valenciana, the positive feedback was overwhelming. With athlete-driven care and attention to detail, the dreamy training roads, and, the heart-stealer herself, Mila our family beagle, we had pulled off our first professional team camp. The best part was hearing what the team loved most was the same thing our recreational guests loved: the welcoming homey atmosphere.
I knew Rocacorba Cycling had the ability and facilities to provide everything a pro team could need but I also knew, if the camp went well, it was an important opportunity to get a little bit closer to realising our vision. I always talk about connecting the dots in the cycling industry and this was one of those connections; having pro teams use the same facilities we provide to amateur and recreational cyclists is a way of connecting people and creating a more sustainable platform for cycling (especially women’s cycling) to flourish. Accomplishing our goal of hosting a pro team camp had validated that our longterm vision was possible and that feeling was the real success.
Images by Oliver Grenaa
The first time I met Marianne Vos
The first time I met Marianne Vos was in South Africa. The Dutch national team were close to my hometown for a winter training camp and, thanks to Martine Bras, they invited me along for a training ride. It was the first time I was star-struck. Marianne was everything in women's cycling, and not only that, all the other riders were also incredibly accomplished and talented. Inside I felt giddy and awkward at the same time. Thank goodness riding a bike is like riding a bike because I'm not sure I could've managed to act normal doing anything else.
We were split up into smaller groups of three and four, and low-and-behold I was with Martine and Marianne. I followed their wheels as we rode out to do an interval session. Looking back, I was still so green. I had only one European season under my belt and it was pretty short thanks to two broken collarbones. Still, I managed to hold my own on the ride and, much to my delight, Marianne was encouraging, friendly, and even complimentary. Since then, we've always had great interactions and I've continued to admire her for her down-to-earth attitude and inspirational leadership, not to mention her cross-discipline achievements on the bike. She's a beacon for women's cycling in so many ways.
When the offer came for me to co-lead WaowDeals (soon to be CCC Team) with Marianne Vos, I was beyond excited. I thought back to when we had first met and how young I was in the sport. It has taken an immense amount of work to get to where I am today and now here was an opportunity to lead alongside a rider I have always looked up to.
Honestly, I thought I would never leave Cervelo Bigla. We've worked really hard as a team to create a culture that operates with integrity - on and off the bike - and still has an ambitious positive spirit. I've also just had the best season of my career so why, and how, could I walk away from all of that?
The more you race, the better you are at reading a race. You learn what a successful attack looks like, what wheels to follow, and when to make a move yourself. It's always a now or never moment. If you hesitate, if you decide it's too risky or not worth the effort, you could miss the winning move. The move that would have set you up for growth and greatness, the move that becomes the effort you remember, the risk that paid off, and the decision that made all the sacrifices and hard work worth it, the move that gives yourself a chance.
When the offer to ride with Marianne on WaowDeals came, I knew it was the move. Thank goodness it wasn't a race situation, because I definitely hesitated thinking about my current team, but it's the right opportunity, with the right people, at the right time and I want the chance.
A huge thanks to everyone at Cervelo Bigla; the staff, sponsors and riders, for their belief and support over the years. I wish everyone at Cervelo Bigla the best of luck and I look forward to seeing their future successes.
