You are a TDF Champion. Has your internal mindset shifted — or are you still chasing the same feeling? 

There’s this saying that you’re only as good as your last race. I feel like a lot of us relate to that — you always want to perform at the highest level, and no matter what results you’ve achieved in the past, you still feel like you need to prove something. I’m definitely one of those athletes who constantly tries to get better, win more races, and make it into the final of every race.  

Whatever happened in the past is amazing — it’s a great memory — but it doesn’t make me feel comfortable or ready to retire. Actually, it’s the opposite. It makes me want even more. 

In modern women’s cycling, everything is progressing so fast and changing so quickly that you simply can’t keep doing what you were doing before. It’s a constant chase to add new ideas, become better, and become faster. Even when I look at my training from when I won Tour de France Femmes, I know I’m a lot stronger now — but so is the entire peloton. So, it becomes a fight for the micro-adjustments that keep you at the front.  

We live in a time where cycling is improving really fast. You can’t slow down. You and your team, your coaches, your gear, you’re always searching for something that makes you stronger. And of course, when you love cycling and you’re passionate about what you do, that whole process becomes a lot easier. 

I’m always looking for stiffness  and  a perfect fit with softness. Stiffness at the bottom and softness in the upper that wraps my toes. The result needs to be the most efficient connection between my foot, the sole, and the pedal. 

When we train 25 to 30 hours a week, you want a shoe that fits perfectly, not one that squeezes your toes. 

That’s what I like about the Giro: the perfect fit, the softness, the way it protects my toes, and how connected I still feel to the sole and the pedal, which gets me the best power transfer during the decisive moments.  

Yeah, I micro-adjust my BOA® dials all the time — in training and in races. At the start of training I keep them loose because I don’t need that much connection during warmup. When I hit a climb or start an effort, I instantly tighten them so there’s no movement inside the shoe — just a direct transfer to the pedal. After the effort, I loosen them again to let my foot breathe. 

In races, it’s the same: loose at the start, fully tight when the action begins.  

Definitely. Modern cycling—especially among younger riders—is much more data driven compared to riders from the 80s or 90s.  I grew up training solely by heart rate, and because of that, I think I developed a strong sense of my body. I don’t need numbers to know how I feel. But younger riders train completely differently. When I was younger, I would just go out with friends, racing each other to the top of climbs or through town signs. It wasn’t about structured  or minute efforts. 

I was working with different coaches. Last October, I started working again with my coach from when I was younger, Louis, and he bases our training much more on feeling than on numbers. That gives me a lot of freshness and motivation, because in a race, numbers don’t matter. You can show up with the best numbers ever, but once the race starts, you have to race — read the moments, feel the race and react accordingly. 

It’s definitely endurance — just making hours. A couple of years ago, I felt like I needed to start intensity early, focus on specific efforts, and be super precise with my training plan. But I realized that what works best for me is simply filling November and December with long hours. I go out for five to seven hour rides, just enjoying riding and being with people I want to spend time with. You come home tired and ready to eat the whole fridge, but you’re satisfied. 

At this level, it’s not only about who is physically strongest—it’s also about who is mentally strongest and freshest. And how much you want it.  That feeling can easily get lost when you obsess over power numbers. I found myself focusing so much on the efforts that I forgot why I was doing them in the first place. 

Yeah, I definitely have a few little rituals. There’s one workout I always do before the classics: two minutes all-out, as intense as I can. I do it four days before the race. 

It helps me get through the first nerves because I always feel stressed about important training sessions. That workout allows me to accept the nerves and reconnect with the feeling of pushing through the pain barrier. 

I’d say it’s everything together. Women’s cycling has changed because there’s more budget and more teams supporting riders at a high level. It’s no longer just one or two strong teams — now there’s real depth. There’s more research, more support staff, and riders are willing to sacrifice a lot. Before, you might go to altitude once a year for three weeks. Now, if you’renot at altitude regularly, you’re not even in contention in the final.  

Teams have nutritionists, osteopaths, performance experts — all looking for marginal gains. Some riders thrive with everything precisely planned; others prefer more freedom and to listen to their bodies. At the end of the day, cycling is still simple: you need to go as hard as possible. Everyone just finds their own path to do that. 

Back then, I didn’t believe I could ever be strong on long climbs. I saw myself as a punchy rider who would do well in classics, especially Ardennesstyle races, but not on 10-kilometer climbs. 

So I think my younger self would be most surprised by how competitive I’ve become on long climbs. 

And outside of racing—what brings balance to your life? 

Honestly, during the racing season everything is so busy and intense that when I’m home, just doing normal things bring me joy. Cooking, grocery shopping, simple household things.Ican stay in the kitchen for hours trying new recipes. My mind switches off. Simplicity helps me decompress. 

And we know you enjoy a good flat white. Is coffee part of your performance ritual? 

Classic cyclist, right? Yeah, coffee culture is huge in cycling. I think everyone lives for it. 

If you go for a coffee ride, you know it’s going to be an easy day—sunny, relaxed, no pressure, no rushing. Training often feels like you always have to move, always have to use time efficiently. A coffee ride is the opposite: you slow down and enjoy it. 

And the perfect coffee, where would it be? Do you have any recommendation, any spot that you would say if you go to Andorra, stop here? 

In Andorra, they’re opening more specialty coffee places now, but when I first arrived, there was only DelBosc. It’s still one of my favorites. I love the owner, Adriana, and it’s a cute little spot hidden in the small streets. In summer, you can sit outside, enjoy the sun, and it’s not too busy. The coffee is delicious—definitely one of my go-to places.