Cavendish
From professional cycling's least likely super fan.
We’re currently five stages into the Tour de France.
I got into the French cycling race last year when Netflix released the documentary Unchained, about 2022’s tour. My husband wanted to watch and reluctantly I said fine, why not. Two episodes in I was crying, hooked, and ready to watch the Grand Tour stream every morning for three weeks.
If you’re new to the tour, here’s a primer: There are 21 stages (individual races) that are back to back with the exception of two rest days. Every rider in the tour competes in every stage. Each team is made up of 8 riders. You’re reading that right, 176 people ride for three solid weeks. There are no substitutions. There’s a stage winner each day for first over the line, but there are also winners for things like sprints, climbs, and most combative. The final prize to be won, the yellow jersey, is also at stake for General Classification and awarded for the best time overall across all 21 stages. The winner of the tour is the person that finishes the race in the yellow jersey.
The thing I like about the race is that it is both an individual sport as well as a team sport. Everyone would like to win a stage at the tour, but many people aren’t there to do that. There are cyclists on the team whose job it is to ride out in front of the General Classification contender and race for them, making their bid for the win easier. Everyone on the team has a role to play. Everyone has their own ambitions, but most often the team's ambitions take precedence.
It’s a heavily individualized team sport, and the riders all have different personalities, ambitions and aspirations. It is also extremely competitive. Everyone has their reason for being there, for putting their body through the grueling intensity of training, and then putting it in the danger of racing against 175 other people who want to win just as badly year over year. Because of this combination of individualism and team dynamics, I find the athletes and their stories completely intriguing.
Today Mark Cavendish sprinted across the finish line and won the 5th stage of the Tour de France. He had shared the record for most stages won in the TdF, 34 across 14 tours, but now on his 15th tour he has broken the world record and claimed a 35th stage win. It is momentous.
Mark Cavendish is 39 years old, which is on the older side of things for a professional cyclist. Last year, while trying to net his 35th stage win and then retire, he instead broke his collarbone in a devastating crash and had to leave the race early. There’s a photo of him from just after the wreck that is haunting. He is seated in the back of the emergency van looking disappointed and dejected. If you’ve seen the photo, it sticks with you. He looks hollowed out.
After his recovery, he decided not to retire after all, and instead returned to this year's race to try for one more stage win to beat the record. Today after a pretty uneventful race, he positioned himself perfectly and took the stage win with his arms held in the air, triumphant.
He finished just ahead of a young Jasper Philipsen, who is renowned as one of the best sprinters in the world. As Philipsen came across the finish line in second place, something that is usually an upset for riders, he reached out to pat Cavendish on the back. Later Philipsen went on to say “...He is a deserved winner. Cavendish is making it happen here, that's the most important news of the day.”
Once he slowed his bike to a halt, the onslaught of cyclists coming up to him to shake his hand, hug him, and congratulate him began. One after another, lining up to express their congratulations to a man who is a seasoned veteran of the tour. For a lot of these guys, Mark Cavendish has been an opponent or teammate in most Tour de France’s they’ve competed in.
It occurred to me that this sport is not only an individual sport, and a team sport, but also a group effort of every one of the 176 riders in the race. It takes a lot of trust in your fellow athlete to go the speeds they do as tightly packed as they often find themselves. I wonder if each year feels like a graduating class, everyone trying to make it from point A to point B together. Today at least, it felt like Mark Cavendish’s success was one that the entire peloton could celebrate. His success was not only his alone, but a success other members of 2024 Tour de France will chase and aspire to throughout their careers.
It’s moments like these that feel bigger than just sport.
Today Mark Cavendish made history for all professional cyclists, and for every person that sits on the seat of a bike and wants to go fast.
As my husband and I watched the live stream we both stood up from our seats and cheered. I started crying almost immediately. I sent a tearful text to my three other friends who care about cycling. I was elated. It felt unbelievable to witness history live as it happened. I felt the way I usually feel when thinking about my love of cycling: I’m lucky that it found me and gained my interest when it did. I haven’t historically given bike racing a thought before last year, and I feel like I unearthed this interest just in time.
Caring about things is one of my love languages, and after reading this draft my husband called it one of my soapboxes. He’s right. I really care to care, and I find tremendous value in letting yourself get swept up in the river of giving a shit about something as frequently as possible. One gift that my thirties have given me is that I find myself falling in love with interests often and with reckless abandon. If something piques my interest, I go after it.
The fact that I care about cycling now feels like a gift. Last year's Tour de France and Vuelta were both races for the history books. Watching Sepp Kuss go from domestique (a position that always races in service of another cyclist’s bid for the win) to Vuelta winner was incredibly fun. During season one of Unchained I fell in love with Thibaut Pinot, a charming and very French cyclist who runs an extensive farm when he’s not competing for medals. Last year’s TdF was his last, and I got to watch him ride his last professional miles through a crowd of fans wearing t-shirts with his face on it, cheering his name.
And getting to watch Mark Cavendish get knocked down, delay his retirement, and come back swinging this year has also felt like immense luck on my behalf. I feel the gravity of it. I know how important it is. I have all the context to delight in it. It is a joy to care about cycling today. It feels like I’ve walked into a birthday party just before the singing and the cake.
Today I hope Mark Cavendish enjoys his cake.
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This gave me chills and tears of joy that I had to hold back as I read it in public.... I am so impressed with your writing. It feels as if I am witness to something magical and warm hearted. Thank you.