That first edition of Paris–Roubaix Femmes was held in October, and I was transfixed by the mud, drama, and sheer ability of these women, especially Lizzie Deignan, to stay upright whenever the road was pushing them to skid off. I lost track of how many times I shouted “oh my god!”, “how did she do that?!”, and made a whole range of inarticulate noises that felt appropriate for the chaos.

Since that weekend, the tours, classics, and the endless stream of cycling podcasts have become a constant in our household. But this year looked different. Moving to New Zealand meant staying up into the early hours to catch both the Femmes and Mens races, now scheduled on the same day, with the racing starting out at 8.45pm NZ time. Both races were electric. Both deserved to be seen.

The men received five hours of coverage.
The women received ninety minutes.

Why should we care?

Paris–Roubaix is important because it symbolises the rise of women’s sport. The women’s edition has only existed since 2021, despite the men racing it since 1896, and it has already earned its place as one of the most electrifying days in the cycling calendar.

The general growth in women’s cycling is real and measurable. There are more female cyclists than ever: more racing, more riding, and certainly more influencing me on Instagram to buy more expensive sunglasses! Statistics from Zwift support this: “ women accounted for 23% of new Zwift subscribers in 2025, growing from 18% in 2022”. Bigger races with the likes of Tour de France Avec Zwift, stronger pro teams, and growing audiences across social platforms show a sport that is expanding.

Paris–Roubaix is known as one of the most savage races in the world, and the women finally racing it, 125 years after the men, is a statement in itself. It proves what we already knew: women are just as strong, skilled, and capable of enduring athletic hardship. It’s a symbol of a rise of the women’s peloton: their hunger, talent and professionalism.

So, yes I understand the intention behind scheduling both races on the same day. But it’s hard not to feel like the message underneath is: women’s brilliance isn’t worth showing in full.

Why visibility matters in a world asking women to shrink

I think this feels particularly poignant right now. Sport acts as a safe place for so many of us, a space for demonstration of unfiltered female strength. Seeing that capability on our screens offers inspiration in a world that seems to be sliding backwards with the rise of “trad wives,” the manosphere, and the return of the persistent cultural pressure for women to shrink themselves.

To me, the reduced coverage felt like a confirmation of that narrative of shrinking, a quiet suggestion that women don’t deserve to take up as much space on our screens.

Women’s sport, including cycling, is a refuge from the relentless focus on how women look. It’s one of the few places where the emphasis is on what women can do. To see that space reduced, compressed into a 90‑minute finale, feels like watching the walls close in on something that should be expanding.

So, what’d I miss ? (you have to sing this subtitle as Thomas Jefferson from Hamilton)

The coverage we did get dropped us into the race with about 50km to go. I suppose some will tell me I should just be grateful they gave the women any coverage at all — ha! Here’s some of the top things we missed from the coverage (courtesy of Pro cycling stats).

Generally, we missed the early chaos and the beautiful part of the race that feels like watching a swarm of bees ebb and flow as they reorganise themselves at 45 km/h. More specifically, we missed:

1. Rosa Maria Klöser launching and early solo breakaway and opening a gap from the peloton about 10km into the race.

2. With 125km to go Klöser has opened this gap and there are ‘multiple attacks’ in the peloton, but no successful breaks as they stay together.

3. When reaching the first cobbled section, Solesmes à Haussy, Klöser had a gap of 1 minute.

4. With 104km to go Alison Jackson (2023 winner) had a flat tyre - a victim to the cobbles.

5. Elisa Balsamo also had a flat tyre and fought her way back to the peloton.

6. 100km to go saw Wiktoria Pikulik crash out and abandon the race.

7. Between 91km and 82km to go the peloton is pulled by various teams : EF Education-Oatly, Liv Alula Jayco, and Uno-X mobility all giving it a pull from the front.

8. The gap between Klöser and Peloton down to just 20s with 82km to go.

9. With 72km to go Klöser is caught by the peloton.

10. A flurry of cobble‑induced chaos: flats for Lily Williams and Zoe Bäckstedt, a mechanical for Letizia Borghesi, a crash for Alexis Magner and Sophie von Berswordt.

And then finally the cameras joined us, just as Visma took control and riders began to drop from the back of the peloton.

The rest of the race was covered, and yes, you can find highlights online. But highlights are not the same as witnessing the race unfold, the tension build, the peloton stretch and snap and reform.

Paris-Roubaix is always such a good racing story. We were given the final chapter.

What can you do? #watchthefemmes

If you want to support the women who make this sport what it is, start by showing up where it counts: follow the riders, watch the races, and amplify the people telling their stories. Honestly, if you’re not following Alison Jackson yet, what are you doing with your life? Fix that immediately. Pair that with journalists like Orla Chennaoui who tirelessly advocates for the women’s peloton, and you’ll be helping build the visibility the sport deserves.

Because when we see women take on the hardest race in the world, we’re reminded of something powerful: women don’t need to shrink. They never did. They just need the space to be seen.

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