Professional cycling is often glamorized as a dream career—traveling the world, competing at the highest level, and pushing physical limits. But behind the scenes, the sport demands immense sacrifice, resilience, and mental fortitude. For British cyclist Alice Wood, the decision to retire at just 29 was both difficult and liberating. In a heartfelt reflection, she opens up about the realities of professional cycling, the moment she knew it was time to step away, and what comes next.
Alice Wood’s journey into professional cycling began like many others—fueled by passion, talent, and a love for the bike. She turned professional after years of dedication, balancing training, racing, and personal commitments. The early years were exhilarating: signing contracts, racing in Europe, and experiencing the thrill of competition.
However, the reality of life as a pro cyclist soon set in. The sport is grueling—physically, mentally, and emotionally. Riders face relentless training schedules, constant travel, and the pressure to perform. For women in cycling, additional challenges such as pay disparities, fewer race opportunities, and limited team support often compound the struggle.
Wood admits that while she loved cycling, the lifestyle took a toll. “There’s this misconception that being a pro cyclist is always glamorous,” she says. “But most of it is sacrifice—missing family events, dealing with injuries, and constantly worrying about form and results.”
For Wood, the turning point came gradually. The excitement of racing began to wane, replaced by exhaustion and a sense of obligation rather than joy.
Cycling at the elite level requires extreme physical endurance, but the mental strain is equally demanding. Wood describes periods of burnout where even the thought of getting on the bike felt overwhelming. “I’d wake up dreading training sessions,” she recalls. “That’s when I realized I wasn’t doing this for myself anymore—I was just going through the motions.”
Professional cycling can be isolating. Long hours on the bike, time away from loved ones, and the pressure to maintain performance left Wood feeling disconnected. “You’re surrounded by people, but it’s a lonely sport,” she says. “There’s always another race, another training camp, another goal—it never stops.”
Unlike some male-dominated sports, women’s cycling still struggles with financial stability. Many riders juggle part-time jobs to make ends meet. Wood acknowledges the stress of uncertain contracts and the pressure to secure sponsorships. “You’re constantly thinking, ‘If I don’t perform, will I have a team next year?’”
The realization that she no longer wanted to continue didn’t come overnight. Wood describes a moment during a race when she felt completely detached—unlike the fierce competitor she once was. “I was pedaling, but my heart wasn’t in it,” she says. “That’s when I knew.”
Walking away at 29 wasn’t easy. Society often glorifies perseverance, making retirement seem like failure. But Wood reframes it as an act of self-awareness. “Retiring wasn’t quitting—it was choosing myself,” she explains. “Cycling gave me so much, but it wasn’t my whole identity.”
Transitioning out of professional sports is a challenge many athletes face. Wood admits the first few months were disorienting. “For so long, my life revolved around training and racing. Suddenly, I had to figure out who I was without that.”
Wood has since explored other interests, including coaching and advocacy for mental health in sports. “I want to help other athletes navigate the pressures I faced,” she says.
For the first time in years, Wood enjoys cycling purely for fun—riding without a power meter or structured plan. “It’s reminded me why I fell in love with the sport in the first place,” she laughs.
Her advice to others considering retirement? “Listen to yourself. If the joy is gone, it’s okay to walk away. Your worth isn’t defined by your sport.”
Alice Wood’s story is a powerful reminder that success isn’t just about medals or contracts—it’s about happiness and fulfillment. Her decision to retire was an act of courage, not defeat.
As she moves forward, Wood hopes her story inspires others to prioritize their well-being. “Cycling was a chapter of my life, not the whole book,” she says. “And I’m excited for what’s next.”
For fans and fellow athletes, her journey underscores an important truth: sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is let go.
