Professional cyclists rarely have things go perfectly. For most, it takes an impossibly smooth path to achieve one win, let alone a victory in a top race or a series of victories. Inevitably, a string of walking on a cloud of dominance raises expectations and sets that rider up for a year of failure to follow. Failure might be a harsh term, but the standard set by the public for riders is like a zip tie. When you have a good result, the tie clicks one spot tighter, and it will never go back. The expectation for a rider will never loosen, and any results seen as inferior to those of the previous season will be seen as failures. Most riders can’t back up a good season. They might still achieve results, but stringing together the results that, say, Ben O’Connor had last year is an almost impossible task with the myriad small and large factors that can set back a rider’s preparation and execution. The higher the level of those results, the harder it gets. Pogacar might be the exception, but even he is raising the bar so much each year that at some point, he’ll be unable to match his extraordinary yearly palmarès.
I’m in this place right now mentally, albeit in a much more humble situation. I’ve had what I’d term a satisfying season, both in terms of results and personal satisfaction.
What I face next is daunting.
I’ve gotten messages like “you’ve been crushing it,” and “I can’t wait to see what you do next year,” and honestly, I’m feeling quite a bit of internal pressure to back it up and take another step. I fear of letting those who support me down. With more results comes more support. What if I can’t show next year that I warrant that support? Will I be a failure in others’ eyes? Will I lose sponsorships?
I always maintain that sponsorship is about far more than only results, but there is an ingrained fear in our sport that results are the final arbiter of success. I’m lucky that I don’t face nearly the scrutiny that a real professional such as Remco Evenepoel is subjected to by his country’s media, but I project this scrutiny on myself. I imagine that everyone is out there expecting even better outcomes and troughs that dip no further down than the peaks of last year.
It’s scary. What can I do about it?
I have to remind myself that I am more than my results. I am more than the return I provide to my sponsors. I am also a person, and that’s what I can control. I can control how I approach races, handle setbacks, and how I interact with people. I have to reassure myself that this fear of failure is constructed in my mind. I don’t feel it because others care, but because I care. Deep down inside, I want to do better. I want to level up. I justify this self-pressure by saying to myself that the expectations I set for myself are really what others establish to grade whether I am worthy.
There is no solution to this challenge. It’s human nature. If I look back eight years to where I started, I’ve come a long way. If I narrow that focus, I feel as though I’ve made no progress over the course of my career.
Progression is not linear, and who knows what next season will hold. All I can do is control what I can and do everything I can to come out of events proud of what I’ve done. That’s a goal I have for next year.