December 20th, 2025 | by Kiara Lylyk
For this week's Quench'd, we spoke with professional cyclist Kiara Lylyk about her truly inspiring experience racing the Tour De France Femmes this past summer. Kiara was super vulnerable in this piece and was open and honest about just how hard it is to race at this level. She doesn't hold back in this story and we were on the edge of our seats reading, wondering what was going to happen next!
For this week's Quench'd, we spoke with professional cyclist Kiara Lylyk about her truly inspiring experience racing the Tour De France Femmes this past summer. Kiara was super vulnerable in this piece and was open and honest about just how hard it is to race at this level. She doesn't hold back in this story and we were on the edge of our seats reading, wondering what was going to happen next!
The only bike race in the world a person outside of cycling would usually recognize is the Tour de France. They may not know how it works or how you get there, but they know it's one of the biggest sporting events out there. In the past when I met someone who doesn’t know anything about cycling I would relate it to the Tour de France and they would ask ‘do you do that?’ and I would say that's for the best in the world. Then this fall I was on a flight beside this older woman who was very interested in my Canada backpack and asked ‘so do you race the Tour de France?’ and for the first time I could reply yes. But inside my mind I was more thinking that I survived than raced. Writing this now I realized I have put off any reflection of the race because saying it was everything I hoped and dreamed of would not be the truth.
The only bike race in the world a person outside of cycling would usually recognize is the Tour de France. They may not know how it works or how you get there, but they know it's one of the biggest sporting events out there. In the past when I met someone who doesn’t know anything about cycling I would relate it to the Tour de France and they would ask ‘do you do that?’ and I would say that's for the best in the world. Then this fall I was on a flight beside this older woman who was very interested in my Canada backpack and asked ‘so do you race the Tour de France?’ and for the first time I could reply yes. But inside my mind I was more thinking that I survived than raced. Writing this now I realized I have put off any reflection of the race because saying it was everything I hoped and dreamed of would not be the truth.
2025 was my first year living in Europe racing with the Winspace Women's Professional Continental Team. I signed with them because it was my dream to race my bike in Europe, but little did I know I was stepping into the highest level of the sport. All season I couldn’t believe my new normal was racing World Tour races alongside my idols Elisa Longo Borghini or Lucinda Brand. I really struggled to identify as being a racer rather than a spectator in the races.
Even though I was so hard on myself, my team saw my future potential and gave me the opportunity to do my first Tour de France Femme. This meant not going home in June and focusing on doing what I could to prepare, but I don’t think there was anything else I could have done for the harsh reality I faced in July.
2025 was my first year living in Europe racing with the Winspace Women's Professional Continental Team. I signed with them because it was my dream to race my bike in Europe, but little did I know I was stepping into the highest level of the sport. All season I couldn’t believe my new normal was racing World Tour races alongside my idols Elisa Longo Borghini or Lucinda Brand. I really struggled to identify as being a racer rather than a spectator in the races.
Even though I was so hard on myself, my team saw my future potential and gave me the opportunity to do my first Tour de France Femme. This meant not going home in June and focusing on doing what I could to prepare, but I don’t think there was anything else I could have done for the harsh reality I faced in July.
It was one of the best and worst weeks of my life. Arriving in Vannes with the team, seeing our new bus, bikes, media and all the staff there to support us was incredible. Among all the excitement and anticipation my parents and brother arrived to give me a big hug before I started this 9 day rollercoaster. July 26th was stage 1 with a short and sweet stage. I will never forget riding the bus and looking out the window to see the most amount of people I have ever seen to support women's cycling. I had this feeling in my gut twisted with nervousness and amazement for the significance of this bike race. Everywhere there was noise, as one coach told me you have to acknowledge the bees buzzing but remain calm on how to cope. But it was difficult to remain calm and thankfully once we got going I remembered, it is just another bike race.
It was one of the best and worst weeks of my life. Arriving in Vannes with the team, seeing our new bus, bikes, media and all the staff there to support us was incredible. Among all the excitement and anticipation my parents and brother arrived to give me a big hug before I started this 9 day rollercoaster. July 26th was stage 1 with a short and sweet stage. I will never forget riding the bus and looking out the window to see the most amount of people I have ever seen to support women's cycling. I had this feeling in my gut twisted with nervousness and amazement for the significance of this bike race. Everywhere there was noise, as one coach told me you have to acknowledge the bees buzzing but remain calm on how to cope. But it was difficult to remain calm and thankfully once we got going I remembered, it is just another bike race.
Stage one was the most severe eye opener for the 9 days to come. I am not sure what I expected, but it for sure was not as fast and no other word than terrifying as that day. It was like a cyclocross race, even in the neutral. The whole 2 hours I felt like I was in a trance of holding on for dear life, not crashing and engulfing cheers on every inch of the road. At the end I saw my parents at the bus and said how on earth will I do this for 8 more days.
The whole week leading up to the race I didn’t feel like myself on the bike. My fatigue was persistent and instead of taking it easy I thought I would feel better with riding like I usually would. I tried to put on an act that I felt fine because going into the biggest race of the year feeling ‘off’ is not exactly a confidence boost. On stage 2 my off feeling showed when my first Tour de France Femme was nearly over for me. We started again like a cyclocross race, yet the stage was nearly 5 times longer. I looked down at my wahoo and thought surely we are well into this, and we were maybe 7 kilometers into a 120 kilometer stage. By 35 kilometers I was dropped, with the feeling of having no power in my body. The race convoy was passing me. It felt like I was reaching to hold on but the elastic was snapping. When my team car came up to me they said, ‘never stop riding’. So for the next 85 kilometers I just kept riding, all by myself among the fans that lined the French countryside. My memory is a blur but I remember every person cheering for me like I was winning the race. Then somehow I had 5 kilometers to go and the team car told me if I finish in the next 13 minutes I would make the time limit. So I kept going and then believed it wasn’t over. Crossing the line, on only day 2, destroyed and defeated. I remember stepping off my bike and breaking down into tears. That night my wonderful teammate and roommate, Fiona, told me it may be 9 days but the only way to go forward is to take it one day at a time.
Stage one was the most severe eye opener for the 9 days to come. I am not sure what I expected, but it for sure was not as fast and no other word than terrifying as that day. It was like a cyclocross race, even in the neutral. The whole 2 hours I felt like I was in a trance of holding on for dear life, not crashing and engulfing cheers on every inch of the road. At the end I saw my parents at the bus and said how on earth will I do this for 8 more days.
The whole week leading up to the race I didn’t feel like myself on the bike. My fatigue was persistent and instead of taking it easy I thought I would feel better with riding like I usually would. I tried to put on an act that I felt fine because going into the biggest race of the year feeling ‘off’ is not exactly a confidence boost. On stage 2 my off feeling showed when my first Tour de France Femme was nearly over for me. We started again like a cyclocross race, yet the stage was nearly 5 times longer. I looked down at my wahoo and thought surely we are well into this, and we were maybe 7 kilometers into a 120 kilometer stage. By 35 kilometers I was dropped, with the feeling of having no power in my body. The race convoy was passing me. It felt like I was reaching to hold on but the elastic was snapping. When my team car came up to me they said, ‘never stop riding’. So for the next 85 kilometers I just kept riding, all by myself among the fans that lined the French countryside. My memory is a blur but I remember every person cheering for me like I was winning the race. Then somehow I had 5 kilometers to go and the team car told me if I finish in the next 13 minutes I would make the time limit. So I kept going and then believed it wasn’t over. Crossing the line, on only day 2, destroyed and defeated. I remember stepping off my bike and breaking down into tears. That night my wonderful teammate and roommate, Fiona, told me it may be 9 days but the only way to go forward is to take it one day at a time.
Starting the third stage my new outlook was: every kilometer further is one kilometer that I remain in the race. I focused on the incredible women I was riding with. Embracing the fact that I was there, riding with the best in the world in the biggest race in the world. Until it was nearly over for the second time when I crashed with a motto bike and was spread across the pavement with several other riders on top of me. For a moment I thought my leg was broken. Then I was moving, blood dripping down my leg, but moving. Before I knew it I was asked if I wanted to keep going and I said yes.
I said yes to make it to that finish the third day because I still could. It wasn’t the start I dreamed of to my first Tour de France Femme, but I was still there and in the race. Everyday after that the sun was shining slightly brighter. I stayed upright, felt more confident among the peloton and found my strength again. Suddenly, as I kept showing up, it was stage 9. I had made it to the last day. We were deep in the mountains where the crowds were electric at the peaks and sudden silence in the valleys. I was alone for a good amount of the day between groups and was the first time appreciating what this sport is all about. I raised my hands to the crowds and they screamed for joy back at me. It was pure bliss to really take in the people who made time to come cheer for us.
Starting the third stage my new outlook was: every kilometer further is one kilometer that I remain in the race. I focused on the incredible women I was riding with. Embracing the fact that I was there, riding with the best in the world in the biggest race in the world. Until it was nearly over for the second time when I crashed with a motto bike and was spread across the pavement with several other riders on top of me. For a moment I thought my leg was broken. Then I was moving, blood dripping down my leg, but moving. Before I knew it I was asked if I wanted to keep going and I said yes.
I said yes to make it to that finish the third day because I still could. It wasn’t the start I dreamed of to my first Tour de France Femme, but I was still there and in the race. Everyday after that the sun was shining slightly brighter. I stayed upright, felt more confident among the peloton and found my strength again. Suddenly, as I kept showing up, it was stage 9. I had made it to the last day. We were deep in the mountains where the crowds were electric at the peaks and sudden silence in the valleys. I was alone for a good amount of the day between groups and was the first time appreciating what this sport is all about. I raised my hands to the crowds and they screamed for joy back at me. It was pure bliss to really take in the people who made time to come cheer for us.
Crossing that finish line was a sight I will never forget. The fatigue and emotion showed the reality that every athlete is a human. Every woman in the Tour de France went through a journey of their own. For some it may have resulted in a yellow jersey, for others it may have resulted in a question for why we chose this sport of suffering. But after giving my parents the biggest hug in the world I came to my senses (maybe months later). Hard things are the nature of humans. While this year it was a win to make it to the line on stage 9, my dream is still to return to the Tour and feel like I am racing my bike. That is the dream of many in our sport. Now when I am asked about the Tour de France I will say with pride I did it, but not done with it yet.
Crossing that finish line was a sight I will never forget. The fatigue and emotion showed the reality that every athlete is a human. Every woman in the Tour de France went through a journey of their own. For some it may have resulted in a yellow jersey, for others it may have resulted in a question for why we chose this sport of suffering. But after giving my parents the biggest hug in the world I came to my senses (maybe months later). Hard things are the nature of humans. While this year it was a win to make it to the line on stage 9, my dream is still to return to the Tour and feel like I am racing my bike. That is the dream of many in our sport. Now when I am asked about the Tour de France I will say with pride I did it, but not done with it yet.
Kathy Hoffer
December 20, 2025
It’s like a breath of fresh air to read Kiara’s story. She is magnificent, truly humble, incredibly strong, and can’t quite believe she deserved to be in a position of her dreams. For years, I had a difficult time describing myself as an artist because “real” artists all seemed so much better artistically, they knew more about art in general, they were so much more creative. When I had the confidence to finally say yes, I am an artist, it felt like Kiara’s acknowledgment of yes, I raced in the Tour de France. Neither of us are at our peak nor do we quite believe we are part of that group. But yes, we are and we are not quite done with it yet. Than