Progress

Seven Italian races, countless chain drops, and the mindset gains that matter more than results.

I'm nearing the end of my racing block in Italy. Seven race days in the last three weeks—five of them crammed into just ten days, made this the busiest block of my career so far. It felt like I was just moving from one race day to another, with little or no time for anything outside cycling. Only worrying about what gear to prepare, the race routes and what to eat. During this period, my parents managed to visit me for a week, which I really needed. It was amazing to have them here, seeing me compete.

Aside from the logistical and practical preparations required for each race, every race day also takes a mental toll. Balancing it all was challenging, and I found little time to write. I admire you content creators who consistently produce work even during hectic times.

I thought I'd briefly summarize each race—what my goals were , what actually happened-- reflect on the broader mindset I've developed and how I feel it has helped improve my approach to racing.

Let’s dive in.

In my previous post, I promised details about a criterium in Rome and an Italian classic race that followed two days later, which took place on April 25th and 27th respectively.

GP Liberazione

Gran Premio della Liberazione is an Italian road bicycle race that has been held annually on 25 April since 1946. It marks the anniversary of the 1945 fall of Benito Mussolini's Italian Social Republic.

This day is celebrated with a fast and furious UCI criterium race through Rome’s historic center, just 500 meters from the Colosseum. My goal for this race was to focus on why I pedal every single moment. What does this mean? I'll get back to it soon.

That's a big, international race where even just performing well draws significant attention. It was incredibly chaotic—200 of the world’s top U23 riders racing through a 6km circuit on relatively narrow streets, with two U-turns on a hilly course, everyone fighting to stay at the front. Crashes and chaos were inevitable. After a hectic first 40 minutes, things slightly settled down, giving me space to think about what I could do and how to support a teammate who had made the breakaway.

About an hour into the race, a rider crashed ahead of me, separating me and a few others from the main peloton. Despite chasing hard for over a lap, we couldn't reconnect. Frustration set in—I knew finishing well here was within reach. Later, I realized perhaps I was overly fixated on the end result, instead of focusing on being in the race itself in my thoughts, which affected my feelings afterward.

Luckily, being so close to the Colosseum provided some comfort—I rode there with a teammate afterward, appreciating one of the coolest spots cycling has ever taken me.

Vicenza Bionde

Fast forward two days, we started Vicenza Bionde, a race beginning in a city near our house called Soave,(Yes…the famous white wine region capital) not far from Verona. This race featured a three-minute climb at the start followed by 160 km of flat terrain with little to no wind—a day for sprinters, I’m not much of a sprinter. Wind can have a dramatic effect on a bike race, I might explain why in the future.

My goal again was thinking clearly about why I was pedaling in each moment.

Bike racing as practicing mindfulness.

In my experience, to ride at my best, I must be mentally present—not just physically in the race but mentally. Focusing on each pedal stroke and why I'm choosing to expend energy now, is key. Whenever my thoughts drift, like "I have no food at home after the race" or “That rider looks like someone I know” or any other funny thought you could think of, I try to refocus on the present moment. Racing, for me, is essentially a 4-5 hour mindfulness exercise.

At Vicenza Bionde, this approach worked better. Towards the end, a teammate and I tried multiple breakaway attempts without success. I avoided a major crash near the finish and ended up 27th, nothing to write home about or the result I’m aiming for but it was progress in riding the way I aspire to ride.

Three days later another block began: three races in four days (May 1st, 3rd, and 4th).

GP General Store (May 1st)

Feeling confident, we tackled this local race with ten laps, each featuring a climb. I was active from the start, but on the first descent, my chain dropped and tangled. I remained calm, fixed it roadside, and managed to rejoin the peloton using the team cars. In cycling, cars are a crucial part of a bike race. In front of and behind the riders there are cars, some are judges cars, police, Marshalls, ambulances and most importantly team cars. Each team has a car in the race in case something happens, punctures, mechanical trouble etc… When rejoining the peloton, you can use the cars as a windshield to make your way back easier.

However, I missed a decisive split of about 20 riders. We kept on fighting and the tempo was quite high, but eventually, race organizers took us out from the race once the gap got to 3 minutes,

That’s racing in Italy.

Memorial Giordano Mignolli (May 3rd)

This was the first edition of this local Italian race. It was a small one, which means a big opportunity. This happened to be my best performance yet. This race featured 8 laps on small roads, with a hill in it. After those 8 laps there was a final climb, different from the laps.

I joined an early breakaway, it was just in order to play the game and see who will join me. I was also afraid to again miss a decisive split. Eventually, I was staying ahead for half the race with two other riders before regrouping. Then, another break went, this time I wasn’t a part of it, so I saved as much energy as possible to the end.

Approaching the final climb, I positioned myself well but was disrupted by a crash ahead, forcing an extra surge to rejoin the front group. After a few minutes of this effort, the climb seemed never ending, I got stressed and disoriented with my thoughts and got dropped. I finished 11th, again, this is nothing to write home about, but I felt I’m getting better. When I crossed the finish line my main feeling was disappointment. I felt like I could do something big and perhaps win the bike race. Fuck. All good. Another opportunity tomorrow.

Memorial D'Oro Fare Di Nardi (May 4th)

This time it was a national level Italian race, without a lot of riders participating, which means another big opportunity.

Another mechanical issue—a dropped chain again at the worst time. I realized that perhaps the chain needed a replacement. I again rejoined the group through the cars but the decisive move of 20 riders had already gone clear. We had a long race to go and I thought we would bring them back, they went to win the race. Fuck. Again.

I was Fighting for minor places, I attacked on the final climb, taking two riders with me and catching another two dropped riders from the break, I finished 22nd. So far the technical details, now to the more mental part of things.

Mindfulness, Again

Throughout these days, my mindset was effected by this Roger Federer's interview which I’m really inspired by:

Any race can be your race, the race that will change your career. Any race can also be not as successful as you might expect. I was astonished by this stat that Federer talks about: he won more than 80% of his matches but only 54% of his points. Think about it, he only won a bit more than half of the points he ever played. A point is just a point, and a race is just a race. Whether that it had been an amazing race, or a bad one, it’s just a race. Embracing this mindset helps me perform better. Every race can be your race, and every race can also go wrong, but it can also go well. As long as I rode the way I wanted to ride, this is all that matters. Truly believing it is incredibly hard, and sometimes feels impossible, that's how my next races felt. But this is the only way to succeed in my view.

A few days later, I was racing in-

Trofeo Matteotti (May 10th) and GP Industrie di Marmo (May 11th).

My parents arrived, providing vital support during two more big races—one national, one international UCI race.

We went to Tuscany and stood on the start line at Trofeo Matteotti, a really big Italian national level race.

Last year, my parents came to visit me as well, while I was racing with my Italian club team and they happened to watch me race on this exact same race.

Again, I came with the unmeasurable goal of being in the moment, focusing each pedal stroke at a time. It worked quite well in my previous races.

Trofeo Matteotti was brutal from the gun. It was hard and never eased up. I only took a look at my Garmin (cycling computer) after 84km, and about two hours of racing. A breakaway of 15 guys went, with three of them going for the win. Some of the strongest guys in the race kept attacking and trying to bridge across. Eventually we caught 12 of them, meaning I was in the group fighting for 4th place.

The final climb arrived and we were going fast. I lost the main group on one of the attacks, in a moment of not thinking clearly, I might not have had the legs in that moment either. Slowly I was making my way back to the group, or at least it seemed like it when mechanical issues with my front derailleur limited me again, keeping me on my small chainring. (Essentially being on a really easy gear). I rolled my way to the line between the 40 riders who finished the race, unable to fight for the top 10.

I hate the amount of times I write about mechanicals that shouldn’t even happen, in this post. This day was a really, really hard day on the bike.

I didn’t have much time to think things out because I had 1:40 drive to the hotel I’d spend the night at. Luckily I had my parents there, watching me race, giving me a hug, oh… and also giving me all the food I need between the races :)

GP Industrie di Marmo

This is a big race, an international UCI race. I’m in decent shape, my parents are here, I feel like I manage to be in the right mindset during races. This is my chance to do something big. This race could maybe change my career. Those were my thoughts before the race.

Apparently my front derailleur died, which is weird as it is a Shimano Dura Ace one. It got stuck on the small chainring. Before the race, my teammate helped me to disconnect it, and lock it over the big chainring, just for the race so I could actually race. The race featured 4 laps, with a big climb in each. I felt good, despite the hard day beforehand. 90 minutes into the race and my derailleur got back to being locked on the small chainring. I lost it. I did everything possible to stay in the bunch, trying to put my chain on the big chainring manually while riding. I lost positions in every fast part of the course where big gears were needed and eventually got dropped and that was race over for me. I was sad, frustrated and disappointed. Then, it was a good time having my parents there to support.

Another DNF on Pro Cycling Stats (a website listing all of the results of every race for every rider, and much more)

—that’s painful, especially knowing I might have been able to get a good result. Fuck. Again. For the second time.

It’s hard when results aren’t reflecting the truth. Especially when everyone sees it.

Instantly, I forgot about Federer, about how he won only 54% of his points, either I forgot or just didn’t want to think about it. Instead, I succumbed to frustration and disappointment.

Yet, remembering that each race is just one race—potentially career-changing but also possibly insignificant—is crucial. In my view, this is the way to success. Understanding that I only need to be and ride as the Yonatan I want to be. That even if the race isn’t the one that will change my career, as long as I rode the way I wanted to, that’s what's important. Coming to the races to play, explore, and see what I’m capable of, and enjoy it. This is the key to success. This is hard to implement, sometimes I feel like I manage to do so, sometimes I feel like I don’t. After the Marmo race, I didn’t manage to focus on that, I succumbed to frustration and disappointment, but that's ok sometimes.

The next day, after a comforting morning with my parents before they headed home, I reset mentally, preparing for my final three races here. Each could change my career—or not—but I'll strive to ride the way I want to ride and be.

Until next time, all good, life continues here even though I didn’t manage to write about it—I've even had more punctures, including a recent rescue from a Romanian-Italian woman giving me a lift home.

So see you in the next post, and thank you very much for reading,

Yonatan.