Why is cyclists' tolerance for pain much higher than other sportspeople?

Why is cyclists' tolerance for pain much higher than other sportspeople?

How do Tour de France riders manage to battle through the pain?


Throughout the 2025 Tour de France, we'll be answering some of the most common questions we get asked each year about the race. Not the big overarching questions, such as 'who's going to win the race this year?', but the fascinating minutiae like 'how many calories do riders consume each day?' and 'why are cyclists shaped the way they are?'

Next up, how are riders able to tolerate pain to such a high degree?

In a world where a footballer often goes down in a heap after the slightest of nudges from an opponent, a new viewer of the Tour de France may be surprised to see a crash-stricken cyclist jump back on their bike and pedal away as if nothing happened.

The reason is part cultural behaviour, part rules of the game and part adrenaline. On a fundamental level, when a crash happens, there’s no race timeout, or substitutes – it all carries on around the stricken rider.

In a stage race, providing the crashed rider isn’t a yellow jersey contender, their goal is to simply get to the finish, assess the injury and see if they’re able to ride on the next day.

Tadej Pogacar's injuries on stage 11 of this year's Tour were tended to with the ubiquitous net bandage you often see at bike races. Tim de Waele/Getty Images

Adrenaline can carry people a long way immediately after a crash. Riders can continue in the race with the most appalling grazes (road rash) on their skin, dislocations and even broken bones.

Geraint Thomas fractured his pelvis early in the 2013 Tour de France, yet still made it to the finish in Paris. He could pedal, but could barely walk and needed lifting off his bike at stage finishes.

Lawson Craddock at the back of the peloton after a catastrophic first stage in 2018. Chris Graythen/Getty Images

Five years later, in 2018, Thomas would go on to win the race. Last that year, over four and a half hours down, was American Lawson Craddock.

He’d crashed heavily on the first stage and broken a shoulder blade. Over 3,000km later, up and down mountains, through high temperatures and, most shockingly, over cobble stones, he crossed the finish line in Paris.

For every stage he finished, he donated money to his home velodrome in Houston, Texas, which had been badly damaged in a hurricane.

“Suffering like I’ve never suffered before,” he tweeted during the race.

‘Suffering’ has always been part of the Tour’s lexicon since the early days and to keep going in the service of others when your own race is effectively over can be the difference between getting another contract or not.

As in the case of Thomas, such adversity can also set you up well for better times ahead.

Thankfully, even suffering in 2025 has its limits. The insidious dangers posed by concussions, in particular, have (generally) managed to supersede the hard-to-shift culture of team managers wanting to get their riders back on their bikes no matter what.