The Debrief

Welcome to The Debrief #3! This one is a little different. Before, I looked at someone else’s race file and tried to reconstruct what happened from the outside. This time the race is mine!

I already wrote a daily blog throughout the race on my profile, so I am not going to rewrite ten daily race reports. You can always check those out if you want to know more about a specific stage. This is The Debrief of the full 10-day stage race, where I will zoom out a bit, analyse how the race unfolded and pull in some external data from other riders as well.

Ten stages, 1,226.6 official kilometres and just over 29 hours of racing. My files eventually added up to 1,231.94 km and 12,897 metres of elevation. Final result: 7th GC at +6:42 to Owen Cole, with three top-ten stage results along the way: P7 in the Stage 8 TT, P8 on Stage 3 and P10 on Stage 2.

The parcours
Before talking about the race, the parcours needs some explanation. Tour de la Guadeloupe is not hard in one single way. The parcours covers a wide variety of terrain. The official route covered 1,226.6 km over ten stages, with two individual time trials, enough punchy short steep climbs, exposed windy sections and longer climbs. Plus: heat! The only things that are not really included in this stage race are a real ‘mountain’ stage or a pure sprint stage.
Apart from the TT stages, Stages 3, 6 and 9 were the most important stages for GC. The other stages were more suited to a break or group sprint. However, it turned out that the breakaway on Stage 4 would play a crucial role in the final GC.

Guadeloupe asked for a versatile rider. You needed to time trial, handle the heat, survive positioning chaos, climb well enough, and still race aggressively and stay alert on days where the profile looked too easy to create differences.

Not your typical stage race
Tour de la Guadeloupe is not a normal stage race. The island is part of the race. The heat and humidity change a lot. My Garmin indicated 36–38 degrees on most days and humidity is often 80% or higher. Roads and asphalt are not great either. They are covered with oil and other slippery stuff due to mediocre car conditions, turning wet roads into slippery slopes. So don’t expect power PRs and super high average speeds. The conditions are simply not suited for that.
Before the race I wrote that Guadeloupe treats this thing like its own Tour, Giro and Vuelta. That turned out to be completely true across all ten stages. The team presentation had a huge crowd. People are cheering you on everywhere, inside and outside the race. The final uphill finishes on Stages 3 and 9 felt like riding through a wall of sound.

Strength of the field
The start list contained five continental teams: Aarco, Vorarlberg, Vendée U, Atom6 and Competitive Edge Racing. The first three were definitely the strongest on paper. Vorarlberg is one of the stronger European continental teams, Vendée U is the development team of TotalEnergies, and Aarco is a relatively new Belgian team but has several decent riders who have already shown good results.
Beyond the continental teams, there were also some strong individual riders spread across the club teams. Especially with the local teams, that was difficult to judge beforehand. Cycling is huge in Guadeloupe, but I didn’t know the riders and had very little reference for the level of racing in the Caribbean region.

It turned out to be quite mixed. Some of the local and club riders were absolutely capable of competing for stage wins and riding at the front of the race, while others were already struggling or DNFing during the opening stages.

Overall, I would describe the level at the front as a proper UCI 2.2 field. Definitely not a bunch of 'pancakes'. The strongest continental riders were genuinely strong, but there was also quite a large spread in level once you moved further down the bunch. That is important context for the numbers later in this Debrief: when I compare myself to the front of the race, I’m mostly comparing against that stronger group (20-30 riders) of continental riders and the best individuals from the club teams.

The GC trap
On stage 2, I made the break. Thirteen riders, most major teams represented, maximum gap went out to around six minutes, stage win possible, GC suddenly wide open. Thanks to my decent TT on day one, I finished P10 and moved to 3rd overall. The next day, on the first uphill finish, I finished P8 and moved to 2nd overall.

That sounds great, because it was great! But it also changed the whole race. Before that, I could race like someone looking for a stage. After that, I was a GC rider whether I wanted to be one or not.
It changes how the bunch reacts to you and also how you react to others. I was no longer allowed to jump into any useful break myself and, vice versa, I vigorously tried to prevent any of the continental teams or their GC riders from getting ahead because we ‘needed’ them in the bunch to control the stage.
Stage 4 was the perfect example of how GC works against you. I managed to control this for the first 60 km, but at a high cost: 375 W NP. Eventually, a break still went with all the continental teams represented and none of us. Absolute doom scenario.

Having the second rider in GC, we quickly took responsibility and started chasing. We managed to bring the gap down to around 1:20, where I expected some of the other teams to jump in and help keep it under control. That did not happen. We got no help and eventually the gap went out to five minutes. Ironically, the break contained eventual GC winner Owen Cole. In hindsight, allowing the eventual winner to gain around five minutes that day effectively decided the GC.

This is also part of GC racing in a ‘smaller’ race. There is less control and probably also less insight into who the strongest contenders really are. In hindsight, Cole should obviously never have been allowed that much time.

That is the GC trap. I was no longer allowed into the useful breakaways myself, while at the same time spending significant energy making sure the wrong riders didn’t get into them. Stage 4 was the worst of both worlds: a very expensive opening hour, followed by chasing the break we absolutely did not want anyway. High effort, no reward.

The climbing reality check
There are a few files worth looking into a bit more detail as they provide interesting insights.

Stage 3 - lowest stage NP, decisive climb
Stage 3 is funny in the data because the full-stage NP was 302 W, the 'easiest' NP of all stages. But it was still one of the most decisive GC days. Why? Because the important part was compressed into the final climb: about 4.5 km at roughly 5 percent, ridden after a nervous run-in, a crash for the yellow jersey, and a final corner where holding momentum is essential.

I started the climb around 10th wheel, survived until roughly 500 m to go, then lost 13 seconds on the last very steep section. P8 on the stage, up to 2nd on GC. Effort needed: 9.23min at 445NP and last 3min at 500W. That's around 6w/kg and 6.8w/kg for me respectively.
Stage 6 - the front of the race was simply faster
Stage 6 was the biggest climbing day: 135.3km, 2,250 m elevation, 329 W NP.
The lead-in of stage 6 was easy, but the second part of the race was nasty:
2.6 km at 6.4 percent, with the first 1.5 km around 10 percent. 4.07min at 475W
3 km at 8 percent. 9.14min at 425W
final climb of about 9km with last 7 km at 7.2 percent. 27min at 366W
This was the day after I crashed in stage 5. I was relieved to wake up feeling relatively unbothered by the crash and just having some road rash and swollen limbs😆. By the last climb the group was already reduced to around 25 riders. Stüssi attacked basically from the bottom. I did not follow. I was suffering way more on that second climb than I should at that power, so decided to directly take my own pace. Which was the right decision as I was suffering and overheating really bad on that stage.

I particularly like Stage 6 from a data point of view because Stüssi, the fastest climber that day, uploaded his file to Strava. We rode the second climb in the same group, allowing me to calculate his weight at around 69–70 kg from the power and W/kg comparison. On the final 7 km climb he pushed 425 W. So we’re talking 6 W/kg+.

That is serious power. Especially when you put it into perspective: Stage 6 of a stage race, two hard climbs already completed and very, very hot conditions. Naturally we’re not talking WorldTour numbers here, but for a UCI 2.2 race that’s a very strong climbing performance.
Even though I didn’t have my best day, I also have to be realistic: on a good day I would not have been able to follow those numbers on a longer climb.

Stage 9 showed the same pattern where I could keep up, and even decide racing, very well on all shorter efforts. But had to settle in my own pace on the longer final climb, although I was clearly performing better compared to stage 6 by pushing 390W in the last 20min.

Stage 10 - not a climbing stage, still expensive
Stage 10 was not a mountain stage it was more like a hard city crit style race with some uphill sections. It still deserves a data insert. It was the final day, mostly likely a sprint stage, with a loop and then eight laps in Pointe-a-Pitre. Still, my file came out at 143.23 km, 45.1 km/h, 268 W average and 327 W NP. After nine days of racing, that is not nothing. The funniest stat is that my 3.30min effort at 470W to bridge to a break only got my HR up to 176BPM, the maximum of that stage. Even though this is not a maximum effort, it is still telling how suppressed your HR becomes after many days of racing. You easily loose 15bpm to your max.

So, was it good?
Yes. 7th GC in Tour de la Guadeloupe is good. Three top tens are good. Being in the race for ten days, time trialling well, surviving the heat, a crash, sick roommates, mechanical stress, and still finishing inside the top ten overall is good. The data shows that my level was consistent and high. I came away with a GC result and could battle with the best continental riders in this race. I’m proud of that.

Are we doing WorldTour or ProTeam GC numbers at Guadeloupe? No, we are not. The climbing files make that fairly clear. But that’s also not really the point. This is a UCI 2.2 race raced in hard conditions, with continental teams, strong local riders and ten days where almost nothing comes for free.

For me, the more useful conclusion is where the gaps are. The TT level is competitive. The shorter climbs are competitive. I can race aggressively and survive ten days. On the longer climbs, there is still a pretty obvious W/kg problem to solve. At 74 kg, that probably isn’t going to disappear completely. So P7 GC feels about right.

“Eva from one year ago would have countered that attack immediately, just to show everyone how strong I was. This time, I didn’t.”

Welcome to The Debrief #2. For this edition, I spoke with Eva van Agt (FDJ-United SUEZ) about her first professional victory at La Périgord Ladies (1.1). And of course we also got our hands on the .fit file, so you can nose around the data yourself while reading this article.

For those who follow women’s cycling (and of course you all do. If not, get out!), Eva is probably best known as one of Demi Vollering’s super domestiques. We’ve seen her work in the mountains during Demi’s Giro victory, but also in hilly classics like Liège-Bastogne-Liège and the Amstel Gold Race.
Eva is the type of rider who rarely rides for her own chances. She joined FDJ as a highly valued domestique after her time at Visma Lease a Bike. But don’t let that fool you. In this race, Eva showed that years of riding for others had also taught her something else: excellent racing instincts.
The parcours
La Périgord Ladies is a 126 km hilly one-day race starting at Lac de Rouffiac and finishing on a local circuit in Boulazac. After roughly 110 km of racing, the riders enter the final circuit containing La Combe Neuve: 1.8 km at 4.6%. Not exactly a monster climb.
But because the entire race rolls up and down, it’s the perfect profile for a race that can go in almost any direction. And that’s exactly what happened. If you want, you can relive the race here. The livestream is worth checking out. Bad video quality and commentary you can barely understand: pure French cyclisme. It doesn’t get much more French than this.
The race
Eva's victory came together from a combination of circumstances (as for any cycling race). With Karlijn Swinkels and Maeva Squiban at the startline, UAE had two of the main contenders in their team. On paper, Caroline Andersson (Liv Alula Jayco), Kathrin Schweinberger (Human Powered Health) Emma Comte (Cofidis) were also amongst the pre-race favorites. However, the lack of a clear favorite made this race perfect for a break.

Breakaway formation
The break went in rather atypical fashion when one rider attacked through the feed zone, around 40 km into the race. Generally not the most appreciated move in the peloton, but perfectly legal.
Eva happened to be perfectly positioned. Not because she expected an attack, but because she wanted to spread herself out from her teammates through the feed zone. A common trick: soigneurs can’t hand bottles to six teammates passing by together.

Eventually 11 riders make it into the break out of which 9 will battle for the win in the final: Eva van Agt (FDJ United – SUEZ), Karlijn Swinkels (UAE Development Team), Mackenzie Coupland (Liv AlUla Jayco), Babette van der Wolf (EF Education–Oatly), Caroline Andersson (Liv AlUla Jayco), Laura Molenaar (VolkerWessels Cycling Team), Emily Dixon (CANYON//SRAM Generation), Noémie Abgrall (Ma Petite Entreprise).

Looking at Eva’s power and heart rate data, it immediately becomes clear that the half hour following the attack was one of the hardest sections of the race until the real finale. Typical breakaway formation: a hard acceleration to establish the gap, followed by a more controlled pace once the break is clear.
During this phase, Eva rode 30 minutes at 238 W normalized power with an average heart rate of 165 bpm. Hard, but certainly not all-out. For context (and we’re gentleman enough not to ask directly), Eva weighs 54 kg according to ProCyclingStats.

Not dedicating 100% to this break makes perfect sense tactically. The break was decent, but not ideal for Eva. Karlijn Swinkels is fast and difficult to drop on this type of terrain, while Liv AlUla Jayco had two riders represented. There was no reason for Eva to burn unnecessary matches. And if the break were to come back, FDJ still had five strong teammates behind to play the race. So the plan was simple: do your turns, but don’t go all in.

Eva is patient
After the break had established a decent gap, the pace settled and the time gap hovered around 1.5 to 2 minutes. Things remained relatively calm until the race really kicks off again around 102km, when Karlijn Swinkels attacked on one of the steeper kickers. Babette van der Wolf immediately responded, while the others hesitated for a moment. Eva decided to close the gap herself. A 2-minute effort at 350 watts, with a big acceleration at the start.
Here came a key part: staying calm. Just because you can close an attack doesn’t mean you should counter it immediately. Eva remained patient, exactly as she put it herself: "Eva from one year ago would have countered that attack directly, show them how strong I am, this time I didn't".

And so the group was brought back together and the race continued, but from km 115 to 123 attacks follow. You can clearly see the repeated power surges in Eva’s race file as she responds to the accelerations. On the first climb of the local circuit, Andersson attacks from the back of the group. Eva follows and the two briefly get a small gap. However, Eva isn’t overly eager to ride all the way to the finish with Andersson. On the next climb they both attack several more times, but the climb simply isn’t selective enough to create real separation. And so, it becomes increasingly clear that the race is going to be decided in the final flat kilometres to the line.
Timed to perfection
Eventually, with 1.3 km to go, right after an attack by Laura Molenaar, Eva launched the move that would win her the race. Of course, every successful attack needs a bit of luck. You need a gap, and you need the riders behind to look at each other for just long enough. But watching both the race and the data, there are a few things Eva got exactly right:

1) Patience. Eva was never overly eager to attack herself. She tested the competition on the climbs, but never blindly threw in efforts that only wasted energy.
2) The anticipation gap. Eva’s positioning throughout the finale was excellent. She stayed a bit more in the back of the group, allowing her to keep overview. Also she leaves a little gap to the rider in front of her to anticipate and build speed for her own attack.
3) Attack after the attack. Laura Molenaar attacked first. Coupland closed the gap. As often happens, the group briefly relaxed after bringing the move back. That’s exactly when Eva went. Not before. Not five seconds later. Right in that small moment where everyone else had just spent a little energy.
4) The sprint vacuum. In almost every reduced bunch sprint, there is a strange moment, usually somewhere between 1.5 km and 500 m to go, where nobody really wants to attack. If you close an attack there, you risk wasting your sprint. But it’s also too early to start the lead-out. The result is this brief vacuum where everyone is waiting for a move, but no one makes one.
Eva recognized that moment perfectly.

Eventually, Eva’s patience paid off. In her race-winning effort she peaked at 810 watts before settling into roughly 350 watts 1min20s averaging almost 49 km/h on the flat run to the finish. Pretty aero that is!

Watching the broadcast, it immediately feels like the race is over. Eva gets the gap, the group hesitates, and nobody is coming back. Funny enough, Eva herself didn’t. She told me she wasn’t convinced she’d won until after crossing the finish line. Remarkable, because from the outside everything screams: the race is over.
Maybe next time she’ll know a little earlier that it’s done before it’s done, and ride to the line with just that little bit more confidence.

Anyway: Bien Joué, Eva.

Welcome to The Debrief, a new series on Grassdune. Every edition reconstructs one remarkable activity through the athlete’s FIT file, performance data and personal reflections. As you read along, you can explore Lars’ complete activity yourself at the bottom of this post, including the power file, lap data and graphs discussed throughout this article.

For this first edition, Lars Quaedvlieg was kind enough to share his complete race file and answer a couple of questions about his podium finish in Visegrád 4 Kerékpárverseny (UCI 1.2).

Most cycling fans know (kind of) how hard it is to race at the Tour de France. But many underestimate the level just below the WorldTour.

UCI 1.2 races don’t make many headlines, but don’t let that fool you. These races are seriously hard. Continental teams chasing UCI points. Young riders hoping to earn a professional contract. And some teams that simply love racing bikes and everything that comes with it.

Universe Cycling Team belongs to that last category. Rather than following the traditional Continental calendar, they travel wherever the racing takes them, hence the name Universe. They race because they love racing. Different countries, different cultures, different races. Performances matter, of course, but so does the adventure.
Their Instagram (@universe_ct) captures that spirit. Not polished sponsor content, but the kind of cycling that reminds you why many of us fell in love with the sport in the first place.

In this Debrief we’ll reconstruct Lars’ race from start to finish. Using his activity data, race metrics and his own reflections, we’ll break down what it really took to stand on the podium alongside Luca Cretti and Alessandro Verre, yes, the same Alessandro Verre who finished second on the Finestre stage of the 2025 Giro d’Italia.

So, what does it actually take to share the podium with a rider of that calibre?
Let’s find out.

The race at a glance
Before diving into the data, it’s worth understanding the challenge Lars was up against. The Visegrád 4 Kerékpárverseny startlist consisted of 1 UCI ProTeam (MBH Bank Ballan CSB Telecom), 10 Continental teams and 13 club teams.

The course itself offered little room for recovery. Riders first completed seven laps of a larger circuit, before finishing with two shorter finishing laps. Both circuits included the race’s defining moment: a 1-kilometre climb averaging 9.7%, meaning the climb had to be done nine times throughout the day.
After 3 hours, 52 minutes and 5 seconds of racing, the podium looked like this:
🥇 Luca Cretti MBH Bank Ballan CSB Telecom
🥈 Alessandro Verre MBH Bank Ballan CSB Telecom (+16s)
🥉 Lars Quaedvlieg Universe Cycling Team (")
Behind them followed another MBH rider, Márton Dina, just one second later, underlining the dominance of the Italian ProTeam throughout the race.

So what did it take to be on the podium with a rider like Alessandro Verre?
First thing I noticed: 205 watts average?! That can’t be right… For context, Lars weighs 63 kg. 205 watts doesn’t scream “podium in a UCI race.”

Then I noticed the normalized power: 70 watts higher. That immediately tells you this wasn’t one long threshold effort. This was a race of constant braking, accelerating, recovering, attacking and hanging on for dear life. And that’s exactly how Lars described it.

The race exploded almost immediately. The first two laps were ridden at a furious pace, with the second ascent averaging 465 W (7.4 W/kg) for 2 minutes and 35 seconds. The damage was immediate: after just two laps, only around 30 riders remained in the first peloton, while roughly 50 riders had already been dropped.

Then, typical cycling chaos happened. An open railway crossing forced the bunch to stop, allowing all the dropped riders to return. Fortunately, there was one lonely policeman standing guard to keep an entire peloton of cyclists in check if the lights would start flashing. Unthinkable in most Western European races, but nothing that made the Universe riders panic. They’ve seen far stranger things on their travels. As soon as the race restarted, four riders attacked, including Lars’ teammate Wessel Lange. They quickly built a lead of two to three minutes while MBH controlled the peloton behind. Eventually, the break was brought back just before the final local laps.
Once the race entered the final two local laps, things really exploded. The breakaway was caught, the pace immediately increased again, and another major selection followed. After the climb, only four riders remained off the front: Erik Fetter, Luca Cretti, Dominik Neumann and Lars Quaedvlieg.

Cretti then launched the decisive attack, riding solo to victory. Behind him, the chase group containing eventual second through ninth place came back together before the final ascent.

On those last two local laps, with 3 hours and 40 minutes already in the legs, he averaged 383 NP for almost 20 minutes. That is 6.1 W/kg. His final three ascents were completed at an average of 450 W, 420 W and 475 W respectively, big numbers after nearly four hours of racing.

On the last ascent MBH seemed to be on its way to do a full podium but Lars still had one final effort left. In the sprint for the remaining podium places, Lars produced 623 watts for 21 seconds, peaking at 749 watts, to overhaul Márton Dina in the closing metres and secure third place. Not quite a bunch sprint winning sprint, but note the effort that Lars is already coming off!
Looking at the power file, it’s easy to see why the average power doesn’t tell the full story. The race wasn’t won by riding hard for four hours, it was won by surviving every decisive acceleration and still having enough left in the end.

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Every remarkable activity has a story. If you’ve done, or know someone who has done, a race, ride or adventure worth sharing, I’d love to hear from you. The next Debrief might be yours.

Send me a DM or email me at arne@grassdune.com.