As the 2026 Tour de France peloton rewrites the record books in the Pyrenees, a look inside the breathwork approaches that turn a brutal alpine ascent from an agonising struggle into a masterclass in executive resilience.
As a professional European cycling tour leader I’ve toured the famed Col du Tourmalet in the French Pyrenees, one of my absolute favourite cycling destinations, close to six times now, from both sides.
One time we barely were able to descend to the bottom after a storm brewed, creating an inundation that swept down the mountain faster than we could ride, sweeping everything in its path into a coagulated mess, including parts of the road. It turned into a pretty hectic wild and windy gravel ride to the hotel.
One multi-story home built on the banks, we could see directly into the second story living room as the whole entire wall from the footings to the roof had been swept away. We looked into it as if it were an architectural design image cutaway to show the interior, couches and all. In 2025 we had to cancel the planned ascent, for the same reason.
In this year’s 2026 Tour de France, on Stage 6 riding from the Sainte-Marie de Campan side to the summit, Tadej Pogacar has just eclipsed his and Jonas Vingegaard’s previous 2023 ascent time by over 2 minutes (previously 45:35). This is on a 17km climb at an average grade of 7.4%, for a ride time of 43 minutes and 12 seconds, shattering the previous time by 2 minutes and 23 seconds. This equates to an estimated power output of 6.39 w/kg, or approximately 420 watts.
For many of my cycling tour guests, the ascent to enjoy a baguette and hot coffee at the summit surrounded by historic vintage bicycles, photos and memorabilia in the Maison Octave café restaurant (named after Octave Lapize, the legendary French cyclist who was the very first rider to cross the summit of Col du Tourmalet during the 1910 Tour de France), it takes almost 2 hours to ride.
If you’re around 75kg, this equates to an estimated power output of 2.2 w/kg, or approximately 165 watts for the 120 minutes of cycling glory at an average speed of 8.6km/h.
I’ve watched as riders grimace, huff, puff and grind their way up the climb. They look as if they’re hating it. And life. They want to be left alone to suffer, to immerse in their own draining pride and deflation. And, this is on a once in a lifetime tour that they’ve been looking forward to as a reward for their intense stressful lives leading powerful corporations and functional teams back home.
Other times, guests reach the summit, rejoicing at an accomplishment that initially seemed beyond comprehension, their mettle tested in the thinning cool crisp air, but with a resilience that made that panoramic view at the top one of the sweetest delights they could savour, even if it was laden with fog and the roadway was walled either side with snow.
There’s a simple difference to each of their experiences, and it’s one that I’ve actually observed that in real time action can turn from the forced grind, to an elated satisfying finish. It’s all courtesy of the mind and body, and how the rider chose to be willing to see and perform differently that day on the climb.
It’s to my joy that in the space of 2-hours, I get to watch as an individual finds new self-belief within themselves, who rather than trudge on in anger and futility, finds that they can remould their thinking and outlook, to still yet undergo a physical effort of endurance that requires constant drive, commitment, and energy, and of course the called upon will to continue to climb up and up as leg muscles protest.
What can be done to turn this around, whilst in the midst of a seemingly endless war with the Pyrenees?
Subscribe to continue reading
Become a paid subscriber to get access to the rest of this post and other exclusive content.
Recent Comments