My Last Road Race: Pride, Peace and Passing the Torch

Almost a week has passed since I lined up in Montréal, representing South Africa in my final road race as a professional cyclist. I’ve given myself some space to let it settle, to reflect and to feel whatever comes. And honestly, I’m still finding the words.

World Championships always carry so much emotion. One day, so much at stake. Yet I felt unusually calm on that start line. I knew I’d done the best preparation I could. I brought 17 seasons of experience, all the lessons along the way, and a quiet confidence in the athlete and person I’ve become.

Beside me were Hayley and Lisa: two ambitious young South Africans with their own dreams and the determination to pursue them. It felt special to share that moment with them. For so many years, I’ve carried the responsibility of helping pioneer a path for African women in professional cycling. Standing alongside them, I could feel that torch beginning to pass into capable hands.

There is still so much work to do. Coming from Africa means navigating hurdles far beyond the racing: leaving family, finding your feet in a foreign country, visas, uncertainty, and learning to build a life a long way from home. I know what that takes. Through Team AMANI, I want to use everything I’ve learned to help the next generation find their way.

As for the race, I’m proud of the fight I gave.

It was the longest road race of my career, on a relentless course. I tried to conserve energy early and share some calm and encouragement with my teammates. Once we reached the city circuits, the racing barely allowed a breath. I held my position, stayed present and raced with intent.

When the decisive attack came, I was close, but I couldn’t quite follow. That’s a moment I’ve replayed. I felt strong in the group behind, but with others’ teammates up the road, bringing the race back was always going to be difficult.

I kept fighting and finished 19th. A top 20 at the World Championships, aged 40, after 17 seasons at the highest level. There’s some frustration in knowing how close I was, but there is also a lot of pride. I gave what I had, and I recognise how much it took to still be there.

The race also brought a sense of clarity. Women’s cycling has changed enormously during my career, and I’m proud to have been part of that growth. As the races become longer, the demands are changing too. The 120–150 kilometre races that shaped much of my career suited my strengths better. I can still compete, but I can also honestly acknowledge that this evolving racing, the longer distance courses, suits me less than it once did.

So many of you asked afterwards why I’m retiring when I can still race like this. Those words mean a lot. But I feel that the time is right. I’m content to step away while I can still be proud of my place in the race, and excited to see the next generation carry it forward. That realisation has given me a little more peace with this goodbye.

Cycling has given me far more than results. It has given me people I love, places I never imagined seeing, and experiences that have shaped who I am. Helping young South African and African riders experience those possibilities would mean so much to me.

Thank you for the beautiful messages. I’ve read them all, even if I haven’t replied yet. To my Collective community and everyone who has supported me along the way: I’ve felt very loved.

One final trip to Australia and the Gravel World Championships remains before I retire as a professional cyclist.

For now, I feel content. I feel ready. And I think it will still take time to fully understand that I’ve taken my last turn in the professional road peloton. 

— Ashleigh