Imagine lining up at the starting line, heart pounding, knowing that in just moments you’ll be racing against one of the greatest cyclists of all time. That’s exactly what happened to me and hundreds of other amateurs when we got the chance to ride alongside Tadej Pogacar, the four-time Tour de France champion. But here’s where it gets controversial: while most of us were just hoping to survive, a few dared to dream of keeping up—even if only for a few minutes.
The invitation arrived just three days before Pogacar defended his title in the men’s World Championship road race. It promised an opportunity to cycle with the world’s top cyclist, but there was a catch. To join him, we’d have to tackle the brutal 15km climb from his hometown of Komenda to the summit of Krvavec, one of Slovenia’s most notorious mountain ascents. With an average gradient of 7.6% and sections exceeding 20%, this wasn’t your average Sunday ride. For Pogacar, it’s just another day at the office. For the rest of us? A test of sheer willpower.
But who hasn’t fantasized about measuring themselves against the best? That’s why I joined the crowd last weekend, armed with a vague head start of 'a few minutes' and a whole lot of nerves. As we gathered behind the start line on a crisp Sunday morning, Pogacar stood among us, his rainbow jersey gleaming like a beacon of unmatched skill.
The mood was a mix of excitement and dread. Dave Goddard, a fellow Brit living in Slovenia, summed it up perfectly: 'My main goal is to avoid humiliation.' Anja Licen, a local rider who won her spot in a radio contest, echoed the sentiment: 'I just hope I’m not the last one up there.' Meanwhile, Austrian duo Sandra Burtscher and Michael Mangeng looked every bit the part on their matching Pogi-endorsed bikes, but even they admitted to feeling the pressure. 'Racing with so many people is nerve-wracking,' Sandra confessed, while Michael joked he’d only catch a glimpse of Pogacar before the champion disappeared into the distance.
And disappear he did. After our brief head start, Pogacar began what he does best: dismantling the competition with ruthless efficiency. In my case, he breezed past me within the first 2km. To put it in perspective, I’m no stranger to cycling—I’ve tackled adventures before—but my recent rides have been more about commuting on a vintage Japanese 'mamachari' bike or chasing Strava segments on the way back from school drop-offs. Road biking? It had been decades, and I’d had just two weeks to prepare.
My friend Mark Koghee, a former sporting director for a pro women’s team, called my endeavor 'quite stupid.' His advice? 'You can’t improve your fitness in two weeks. The only thing you can do is prepare your body for the shock. Climb as much as you can, so the pain on race day isn’t as brutal.' Another friend, Marin Medak, lent me his drop-bar bike, but when I asked if I could conquer Krvavec on it, he deadpanned, 'Only if you put an electric engine in it.'
Spoiler alert: I didn’t install an engine. I reached the summit 53 minutes after Pogacar—a small victory in itself. But here’s the part most people miss: Pogacar wasn’t even the first to cross the finish line. That honor went to Andrew Feather, a 40-year-old lawyer from Bath and four-time British Hill Climbing Champion. 'I set a high tempo early on and managed to solo to the top,' he told the BBC. Simple? Maybe. But Feather is one of the few riders to finish ahead of Pogacar this year, a feat he called a 'once-in-a-lifetime experience.'
After the race, Pogacar was all smiles in the mountain-top party zone, laughing off the rare defeat with a casual 'you can’t win them all.' Yet, even after a season where he dominated the Tour de France, World Championships, and multiple 'monument' races, the 27-year-old’s hunger was palpable. 'If you love what you do, motivation isn’t hard,' he said. 'I’m open to anything.'
And that’s the real takeaway: whether you’re a champion or an amateur, it’s the passion that keeps you pedaling. But here’s a thought-provoking question for you: If you had the chance to race against the best in your field, would you take it—even knowing you’d likely lose? Let me know in the comments!
