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.

Discover more about Ashleigh’s home Rocacorba Cycling

Speaking About Binda

“Goooo!” Marianne shouted from across the bunch but I was already out of the saddle to cover the attack. It was the technical last 5km of Trofeo Alfredo Binda and our group of 8 off the front only had a 15 second gap. Marianne and I seemed to have an easy unspoken way of communicating what needed to be done but now the moment was too important for her to hold it in. 

I could feel the heavy burn of fatigue in my legs from my last attack but I had to cover this move. I shut down the Be Pink rider with 1.6km to go but that was the easy part. I couldn’t allow another move to go or let the chase group catch us so, by any means necessary, I had to keep the pace high. With the chase group only seconds behind us, the last kilometre demanded every single watt I had.

I had my head down but as we turned the final corner I looked up to see the finish line and launched into a leadout. Marianne passed my shoulder first, followed by the rest of the breakaway riders contesting the sprint, and then I saw Marianne’s hands fly into the air. We had won! Convincingly. Perfectly. Together. 

Marianne didn’t have to say anything. I had just done my job. I had followed the team strategy and done my best but she showered me in gratitude. Endless thank-yous, hugs, smiles, and it was not only uplifting and motivating but powerful for her to say what didn’t need to be said. I could feel the bond between Marianne and I grow stronger. 

Image: Anton Vos

Our winning display of teamwork had also captured some outside attention. Since Trofeo Alfredo Binda was broadcast on television, the response from fans after seeing such a strong and successful show of teamwork meant the story of our win had been shared. A simple results sheet doesn’t tell how we were down a rider from illness, how Riejanne and Jeanne kept Marianne and I fresh for the final laps, or how I had to bury myself to get Marianne to the final sprint. People were saying how “exciting” the racing was, how “professional” and “skilled” we were as a team. Seeing the race meant that people had shared the experience, they knew the story of teamwork behind the win.

Hearing such great positive feedback from both the team and fans filled me with excitement and motivation. When our stories are told and shared it has the power to create a positive ripple effect that reaches all corners of women’s cycling—from showing other riders the value of teamwork to demonstrating the power and need of television coverage to race organizers and fans. CCC-Liv will go on winning, women’s cycling will continue to develop, but, as our win in Binda showed me, there is value in speaking what is usually left unspoken.

So, to everyone in the world of women’s cycling, speak up. Let people know you want to see the races on television; reach out to the teams and riders and let them know you’re supporting them; if you see good racing tell people about it; and, at the very least, encourage other women to ride bikes.

Season Opener: Tour Down Under

It’s been 9 days since I’m officially a CCC-Liv rider! 

The excitement of signing with a brand new team has only built over the last few weeks. For the first time in my career I had a pre-season training camp so, in December, I had an early taste of what was to come: new equipment, new teammates, new management, new race schedule. Contracts only officially roll over on January 1 so after camp I had to wait. I felt like a kid waiting for Christmas and when 2019 finally arrived, the build up did not let me down. 

A week after the New Year we all jetted down to Australia for the Tour Down Under. After the million-hour long flight, we all crashed at the hotel while the time change crashed into us. Thank goodness there is a strong coffee culture in Australia because the next day it felt like I needed a constant supply of caffeine just to keep one eye open. The other eye, thankfully, was being kept open by spending time with teammates, exploring Adelaide by bike, and snuggling baby kangaroos. (Hey, when in Australia, right?!).

I couldn’t think of a better way to start with a new team then with a new race. It will be my first time competing at the Tour Down Under. Since it’s also our first race as a team, the goal is just to start learning how to race together over the four-stage event. We’re all professionals with a very professional set up so everyone knows what they are doing but there is sense of unspoken communication in racing, a rapport, that just needs to be built on the road in a race. It’s learning how your teammates react to race situations, what each riders facial expressions mean, and even who likes what in their bottles. In other words, it’s all about bonding this week but, if an opportunity arises, whether that’s snuggling a kangaroo or grabbing a podium, you can bet we’re going to take it!

Ashleigh Girona Cycle Tour

It’s the off-season but I’ve just finished a week-long five stage tour. It included lots of coffee stops, all my favourite roads, and a bunch of new friends. It was my inaugural Girona Cycling Tour that I hosted and it really opened my eyes to a new way to push women’s cycling forward. 

The Girona Cycling Tour at it’s most simple was a cycling holiday but it’s part of a bigger vision we are working to achieve at Rocacorba Cycling. When it comes to tackling the complexities of women’s cycling, it took a long time for us to manifest something actionable but, after the tour, I knew we were onto something powerful. 

It seems obvious but not every sport allows people of all levels to come together. Not anyone can join the Springboks for rugby or FC Barcelona for football but pro women’s cycling is a bit different. We have the ability to not just allow, but also to welcome supportive cyclists and fans into the process. By reaching out and making real-life connections with other cyclists/fans, we can access and strengthen the support we desperately need.  

As in any new endeavour, I was excited but unsure of how the week would go. Would everyone get along? How could I make sure everyone felt included? Was the weather going to hold up? As the riders arrived, I saw they also had “new experience” jitters but as soon as we hopped on our bikes, all of our concerns melted away. There was a wide range of abilities, different experience levels, and different approaches to cycling but it didn’t matter. By the end of the week we were all happily physically tired but mentally energized. 

That energy stayed with me. By taking down all the barriers and allowing people in during a simple cycling tour, I felt that I had made actual change! It seems small but I know everyone left with a sense of connection that will touch their relationship with women’s cycling forever. 

The future of our sport is in connecting the dots, making deeper lasting connections, and doing that in as many different ways as possible whether that’s a minimum wage policy or a coffee with a new friend during a holiday tour. The beauty of women’s cycling is that it has the opportunity to be open and welcoming to different models and practices. There are so many different ways to advance women’s cycling and, with a multitude of attack points and an open mindset, everyone (especially professionals) can contribute to the growth and sustainability of our sport.

Click here to ride with me next year from 5th-11th October, 2019.

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.

May your choices reflect your hopes, not fears

The last time I wrote publicly, I declared that an African would stand on the podium of a Grand Tour for the first time in history. It feels remarkable to deliver on that statement.

Coming second at the Giro Rosa after 10 days of aggressive, exciting, and demanding racing was incredibly satisfying. To back that up with Cille's fourth and my third at La Course only 48 hours later shows the depth of capability and dedication at Cervelo Bigla. Never have we gone so deep, pushed so hard, or fought so bravely. At one point during the Giro, I saw Clara Koppenburg in tears while she was still laying down the power.

To declare a massive ambitious goal publicly was equal parts scary and energising (maybe more 60/40), but we weren’t going to the Giro to lose. We went in with the hope of winning, and used that as our 'north arrow'. We were going to make attacks and believe they would be successful; we were going to ride like a big team because we could influence the outcome; we were going to race the Giro Rosa because we could win. We made sure that every choice, as Nelson Mandela scripted, reflected our hopes, not fears.

There were many times during the race when that strategy was challenged - when we lost two riders in the first few kilometres of the opening team time trial due to unforeseen mechanicals, when I crashed 8km before the finish line on stage 4 and almost lost everything, when Clara stood up to cover another attack on stage eight after I thought she couldn’t possibly turn another pedal stroke. Time after time we held onto our hope.

There have also been moments when our gutsy choices guided us to exactly where we had hoped to be, like when Cille attacked at La Course and I got to watch the entire bunch scramble and discuss what the heck they were going to do, or , back at the Giro, when I crested the Zoncolan in second place, chasing the pink jersey solo, and, of course, stepping up onto that final podium for second overall.

We raced with the hope of winning not the fear of losing. It was an ethos the whole team had to adopt, and we aren’t the only ones. I recognise it in the other women I race with, the teams of people behind each event, every family, fan, and sponsor. I see it when, like at this year's Giro, there are bigger crowds, more community engagement, better media coverage, and challenging courses. I feel it when the women's peloton delivers an exciting show and world-class performances. I feel it when I'm the first African to podium at a Grand Tour.
If there is just one thing the organisers of the Giro Rosa and the incredible teams that raced it proved that Cervelo Bigla's success proves it's that, if you choose to let it, hope will guide you to incredible places.

Beat the Odds

Anyway you slice it, four against six made us the underdog. Festival Elsy Jacobs is a an annual favourite of mine (especially because there is fantastic online live coverage) but showing up with only four riders against the big teams of six meant it was going to feel like a new race. 

Cille had made the podium in the prologue but, after being caught behind a crash, we all walked away from the second day disappointed. We were also down to just three riders going into the final stage thanks to a sore throat. It seemed like the odds were just too stacked against us but it’s not always a numbers game.

I broke away. It was my second break of the day and there were 40km left so I set more conservative tempo, hoping to attract some company. Race leader Christine Majerus and Alexis Ryan of Canyon-SRAM joined me which eventually enticed a large group across. As we merged, it was obvious everyone was waiting for the final hills to attack. Not me. 

I caught everyone off guard. It wasn’t the textbook place to make a move but it was the perfect moment. I got away solo with only 20km of road until the finish and the chase was on. I drove it hard, feeding off the energy of having the biggest teams in the peloton hunt me down. I found out later Majerus was really feeling the pressure while Lotta played it perfectly cool. 

Of course, sometimes it is a numbers game. Eventually I was caught but, even without a lead out, Lotta sprinted into second place. We might not have won but Cervelo Bigla definitely beat the odds.