For anyone who knows me, knows there has been a few constants in my life: my love of dinosaurs, crime dramas, and of course, the Tour de France.
Each July, 22 teams of eight cyclists come together to ride over 2300 miles in 23 days throughout France. And for what? To win? Hardly!
Most people don’t understand that most of these cyclists are not cycling to win the Tour. There are several classifications: General Classification (Yellow), Sprinters (Green), Climbers (Polka Dots) and Best Young Rider (White) and Best Team.
It’s confusing, I know, to think that these cyclists are not just in it for their own glory, but rather to work as a team. On each team, every cyclist plays a role to get one of their teammates across the line first (for stage wins) or overall (to be the GC winner). And that team leader or captain can’t do it alone. They need domestiques, or secondary riders, who shield the captain from opponents and deliver food and drinks to them.
And that’s what I love about the Tour de France. It’s a team effort. Sure each cyclist is doing the work, but it would be near impossible to do it alone, without others helping you. And what a great metaphor. You’re only as strong as the peloton that surrounds you.
As a once-competitive cyclist, I loved the camaraderie of the sport. If I was grinding up a hill a teammate wouldn’t hesitate to pull ahead and let me draft of their wheel for a bit to rest my legs; and I loved taking turns at the front of the peloton, so my teammates could eventually slingshot themselves to the sprint finish.
Each stage of the TDF is made up of little wins — sprint points, climbing points, time bonuses and the individual stage wins. On any given day, teams come together to position themselves for different types of advantages to help everyone on the team accomplish what they need to do. And when it works, it’s a thing of beauty — a supportive, agile, communicative and collaborative culture; and when it fails — it’s usually because of bad communication and combative egos.
Cycling is a beautiful sport, but much like any sport or industry, it’s also known for its corruption and controversy. And while we can learn a lot of from the sport as a metaphor for team work, it’s also a cautionary tale for what happens when people try to cheat the system. It can be devastating and disappointing to learn after the fact, that teams and individual cyclists may have tried to cheat to get ahead. But it usually never works out. Titles are stripped, cyclists suspended or disqualified.
There are many parallels between cycling and work culture. If you try to go it alone or are focused on trying to game the system, it never works out the way you want it to. Even if you’re able to succeed in the short term, in the end, you’ll likely not get as far or be able to sustain your effort to make it worth it. As any small business owner knows, it’s near impossible to do it by yourself. It takes a village — a network of people who will pull you up a climb, help set you up for a success for a sprint finish, or simply bring you food and drinks and keep you company on long rides.