Cecilie Uttrup Ludwig
The ebullient Dane talks racing, leadership and inspirational women
CW: How did you keep sane in the current situation? CUL:
I spent most of lockdown in Denmark with my family and it was really good to see them and my friends because I don’t usually see them that much. I was always busy doing something but I am a racehorse and I am desperate to race. I started to miss my own space and am now in Girona.
CW: What’s one of your favourite races? CUL:
The Women’s Tour. It’s crazy big and there are so many people, old, young, probably non-cycling fans there. Normally we don’t have that, so it makes it a special feeling. I’ve only raced it twice but I’d like to go well there. Paris-roubaix is fricking exciting and I can’t wait to be on the start line. It’s a good step towards equality.
CW: Is enough being done towards creating equality? CUL:
I was pleased that so many people spoke up for women’s cycling when the revised calendars were announced. We also need to survive and have TV airtime – we also depend on that exposure. If I believe something is not fair, I will raise my voice because if we stay silent nothing will happen.
CW: If you could win one race, what would it be? CUL:
Tour of Flanders because it’s a mini World Championships. It’s a national cycling holiday in
Belgium. The party, the vibe, I get goosebumps thinking about it. There are so many spectators there and it feels like they are there because they want to see us women race, not just because the men’s race passes after. It’s an epic course: short, steep hills and cobbles, and when we get a bit of epic weather it makes it even better.
CW: Why are you a cyclist? CUL:
I love cycling so much and am falling in love with it more and more. I get paid to ride my bike, to live in Spain, to go in the mountains in good weather, to decide what time I can have fun, to have a coffee. It’s so awesome. I love a hard ride and coming back with the feeling of happy fatigue. After a good race I am so in the moment and feel insane. Sometimes I will pinch my arm and think, ‘Is this really my job?’
CW: When else are you happy? CUL:
At the end of the movie Into the Wild, it says that happiness is only real when shared and I feel like that is so true. Watching a sunset with friends, or sitting on a terrace at midnight and seeing shooting stars are special moments. I really admire people who enjoy life. I also love Italy: good people, food, wine, landscape, and charming restaurants.
CW: What do you want to improve? CUL:
“I have shown signs of being a good stage racer. Maybe I can win the Giro Rosa”
It’s funny being a leader because I feel like I have just begun my career and I have so much to learn. There are so many aspects, such as tactics, that you learn by trial and error. I want to improve my time trialling because I love how it’s a discipline that you have to get into a bubble, accept the pain and it’s crazy difficult to master. I hope to become an all-rounder and I have shown signs of being a good stage race rider. Maybe one year I will be able to win the Giro Rosa.
CW: What advice do you live by? CUL:
Lots of people try
to copy what the best do, but you can’t copy them and be as good. Life doesn’t work like that. You have to find your own way. For me, being super-strict doesn’t work, but staying up, having fun with friends, maybe a glass of wine, then waking up later to train, keeps my mind happy. To perform on the bike I need to be in a happy place. As athletes we need to be structured but also need to enjoy life. Life is about balance and choosing your own path.
CW: What other sport do you admire? CUL:
Biathlon. How the heck do they ski so hard, with a heart rate of 200bpm, and then stop and focus so intensely to shoot?
It’s so cool. How do they keep calm? They need to be physically strong but also that is mental strength in its purest form.
CW: What are you binging on Netflix? CUL:
The documentary on Michelle Obama. I love strong, independent people and for a long time I have looked up to her. I like to watch something that gets me thinking about emotions and life, and what I can do differently. Watching a documentary and talking with a person about it for two hours is so cool. You need to find people who you can have deep conversations with.
I recently woke up in a Premier Inn. Thrilling first line because we’re still in a pandemic! Anyway, in that delicious moment between sleeping and waking, when the day feels new but you’re still dreaming, I was convinced I was on a British Cycling camp.
British Cycling doesn’t do them any more but it used to host group training camps around the UK, to teach developing Paracyclists how to ride together. I mean real training camps, where food and board is paid for and coach and athlete can really focus on the job at hand, with enough riders to create good-sized, wind-breaking pelotons.
Most importantly, these camps taught us how to navigate the various roads in the UK with an altered set of abilities and how to handle dangerous winter riding conditions with a back-up van close by. Guided by one coach and his dodgy Garmin we could push the boundaries a little bit more, train a little bit harder.
It fostered this incredible team spirit: we would grumble up hills together, get critically energy deficient at the same time, bumping each other’s draft bars [across the back of the bike or handcycle] in exasperation or encouragement, never really knowing which was which.
Finally, semi-hypothermic, we’d arrive back at our Lord and Saviour: the Premier Inn. It’s the only chain hotel with a reliable standard of accessible room. We’d promptly cover every handrail and shower seat with sopping wet kit. It was bliss.
With cuts to the Paracycling road squad and the pandemic, camps for new blood are no more, gone but for the memories of those who were forged in the sleets of years past. Still, as the dawn breaks, I can’t stop myself hoping that today’s morning reverie was a premonition, rather than nostalgia. Maybe soon there will a hot bowl of porridge and one-legged bike riders hopping about in the lobby waiting for me to get a move on (other disabilities are available). When there is, I’ll be ready to teach that new generation about the anti-bonk properties of the flapjack and the sheer magic that is chamois cream.