That Race in France

Jul 04, 2025

It’s the race that I remember running in the front door to watch after school, it’s the race that makes you dream of going pro. It’s the three weeks each year that our niche little sport is globally relevant. Of course, it’s time for the Tour de France.

The Tour is different. It’s the biggest annual sporting event in the world, with millions of viewers. It’s a playground around the French countryside where dreams are made.

As a kid in Grimsby, the Tour felt like a fantasy. I’ll never forget standing in school uniform watching Froome run up Ventoux, or being out on a ride clinging to a phone that’s streaming Cavendish crash out in Harrogate.

At the time, it felt as realistic as becoming a Premier League footballer or even an astronaut. Something you admire from afar, not something you actually expect to be part of. It was almost childish to believe otherwise.

But, then I started riding seriously. Got some results. Signed my first contract. I moved to France. I lived at the foot of the world famous climbs, hell I even rode in the brown shorts of France’s most famous team. Slowly, the Tour became less of a fantasy and more of a distant possibility. Still unlikely. Still absurd. But maybe, just maybe…

A much younger Joe riding in the French mountains. I often reflect on my time at AG2R La Mondiale Development and wonder what could have been different. I think it was a case of bad timing (COVID) and also being quite young for my first time living away.

It was something I dared to dream about, something I believed that one day could become true. Being in the world’s best development teams, and surrounded by talented riders, I always knew that some of us would go on to ride it. Some of my former teammates, closest friends and mentors have ridden the Tour. My girlfriend, Maggie, rode the Tour last year.

I’ve never been big on visualisation, but like every cyclist, I’ve dreamt of lining up at the start. Not even in yellow. Just being there.

I don’t know exactly when the dream started to slip away. There was no single moment, no clear turning point. It faded gradually, pushed aside by results, reality, and time. My ludicrous childhood dream went from being slightly less ludicrous and maybe possible, and then back to a childhood dream.

I was never fast enough to ride the Tour de France. I got closer than most, but still much too far away.

That’s not going to stop me watching the next three weeks around France. I love bike racing so much. I’m a fan as much as I am a racer. I’m fascinated to see whether Jonas can knock Pogačar off his perch.

Who’s going to have the breakout ride? Which moment is going to be written into the history books?

While I’ve never ridden the Tour, I imagine it goes in a similar way to most other stage races that I've ridden.

You have the top dogs. Of course that’s UAE and Visma. They’ll be fighting it for yellow, and anything other than yellow will be seen as a failure.

Then, there’s the nearlies. They’re incredible, but not quite as incredible as the top dogs - think Bora.

Next up, you have the crazy strong rider who doesn’t have the team behind him. That’s Remco. He’s a Top 5 favourite, and has a strong case to finish on the podium. But, we’re all wondering what would happen if he was on the super team.

We have the sprinters, battling through every uphill gradient for their shot at glory. The chancers, jumping into early breakaways hoping - praying - that the GC guys will let them win.

Every bike race has cannon fodder, riders who are just there. They’re incredible athletes, but for whatever reason, maybe it’s talent, experience or fitness, they’re just existing in the race.

We can’t forget the workers. I’m biased, as it was a role that I often fall into myself, but watching a domestique in full flow giving up their own race for their team leader is often more impressive than watching the leader themselves.

The Tour is beautiful. For three weeks, it’s a moving circus throughout France. The whole world will focus on this small French town, and the next day it’s back to normalcy. Families will drive thousands of miles to go on holiday to watch, children will become inspired, and some will go on in years to come to race it. Some rider’s will have the highest of highs, and some the lowest of lows.

I’ll leave on this.

I was on a plane from Utah to Vancouver earlier this week. I got chatting to the person sitting next to me, a woman in her sixties named Nancy who was coming into town for a conference. She asked me what I do for a living, and I explained about bikes.

“Have you ever done that one in France?”, she asks.

I smile and pause for a second. I think about the last however many years. The different teams, the countries and races.

This question always comes when you speak to a stranger about cycling.

“No, I never raced that one in France.”, I smile back.

She nodded and our conversation flowed to food recommendations for the city we’re about to land in.

It’s funny how a stranger can ask a question that takes you right back.

My current view writing this. I’m in Vancouver, Canada, staying with Al and Hannah, two of my close friends. Al was a teammate on Ribble Rebellion, hence the wall art. It’s funny being in Vancouver, all of my friends here have real lives and real jobs. The daytimes are quiet, and the evenings are when we train and do the social bits. It’s also funny being in Vancouver, a city that has quickly become home. Maggie and I both know that one day, when our careers are over, we’ll move out here. Anyway, that’s probably a decade away…

While you’re here…

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Joe Laverick

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