From Virtual Rival to Tour de France Podium Contender: Watching Sarah Gigante Rise

Sarah Gigante celebrating her Climbers Jersey at the Giro d’Italia Women

I first noticed Sarah Gigante when the world had turned virtual. It was the height of the COVID pandemic, and like so many cyclists, I turned to Zwift for competition and connection. It was there — at the inaugural UCI Esports World Championships — that Sarah first caught my attention.

That day, I knew I was in top form. I had trained relentlessly. I understood the nuances of Zwift. I was convinced I was going to win. But what I hadn’t expected was just how hard I would have to fight for it. Sarah Gigante pushed me to the absolute limit. It came down to a sprint. I won — just. And I remember thinking, this rider has something special.

From that day on, I watched her closely. In the real-world peloton, I saw the same power, but I also saw fear. I saw the hesitation on descents, the struggle with positioning, and the anxiety that comes with navigating a chaotic bunch. And as someone who felt her raw potential firsthand — someone who had to dig deep to beat her — I found it frustrating. Not because she wasn’t living up to expectations, but because I knew what was hiding inside her.

Zwift, in many ways, strips cycling down to its essence: watts per kilo, mental resilience, and raw engine. Sure, there are still tactics — drafting matters, timing matters — but there’s nowhere to hide. You can’t rely on race radios, team cars, or technical descents to make the difference. The strongest rider almost always wins. And what Sarah showed there was undeniable.

So, I watched. I encouraged her in the peloton when I could. But for years, it felt like she was being held back by fear and, perhaps more sadly, by a lack of belief around her. Teams gave up on her. I remember watching Annemiek van Vleuten trying to guide her — chase her from the back of the bunch, trying to force her to the front. But you can’t force confidence. You can’t demand someone to feel safe.

And then, everything changed. In 2024, thanks to Natascha Knaven-den Ouden’s belief and vision, Sarah joined our team. She got a second chance. And I got the privilege of becoming her teammate.

We didn’t get to race together much that season — I was sidelined for a big chunk of it with a broken back — but over those months, I made a conscious effort to get to know Sarah. I asked questions. I listened. I learned about her background, her values, her fears, and the control she needs to feel steady in a chaotic world. It didn’t happen overnight — but slowly, bit by bit, trust was built.

And I wasn’t the only one investing that energy. Our director sportif, Stijn, also believed in Sarah from the start. Quietly, consistently, he supported her behind the scenes — offering encouragement, guidance, and belief when so many had already given up on her. I think his steady presence played a big role in helping her turn a corner.

It was at Liège-Bastogne-Liège that I really saw how to help her. The goal was to get her in a break. I knew the climb where she could launch. And I realised something important: Sarah needed to feel safe to be brave.

So instead of riding ahead and asking her to follow, I rode beside her — creating a pocket of space, a bubble of calm in a chaotic bunch. She launched. She flew. She rode in a long solo breakaway. That was the start of something.

And then came the Giro d’Italia Women — the race where it all started to come together. By this point, the time I’d spent getting to know her mattered. I understood what made her tick, and she knew I genuinely believed in her. Her positioning improved. Her confidence grew. She won two stages and the mountains jersey. And every day, you could see her shedding another layer of fear.

Even her Tour de France Femmes avec Zwift selection wasn’t certain. She only got the nod on the Monday before the race. It could have knocked her. Different teammates, new environment, high pressure. But she embraced it.

And here we are — Sarah Gigante, second on GC, second on the Queen Stage of the Tour de France Femmes avec Zwift.

But more than her result, it was how she raced that told the story.

Today, Sarah didn’t just climb exceptionally — she climbed boldly. On a long and grueling final ascent, with still ten kilometres to go, she launched. She didn’t wait, she didn’t hesitate — she attacked. She took destiny into her own hands and put herself out there. That kind of courage, that kind of belief in herself, is what makes a true champion.

Yes, she finished second today.
But honestly? She won.

Because after everything she’s overcome — the fear, the crashes, the doubt, the years of being underestimated — to see her race like that, to see her believe in herself enough to go… that is victory.

She’s flying now.
And I couldn’t be prouder.