My Women’s Tour de France stage with Zwift – Race report

What is the Etape du Tour de France Femmes?

L’Étape du Tour is a unique cyclosportive that allows amateurs to ride on the same roads as the professionals during a stage of the Tour de France.

While the Etape du Tour (Men) has existed for many years, 2025 marked the 1st edition of the Etape du Tour de France Femmes. As an added bonus, L’Etape Femmes allowed riders to take to the roads just a few hours before the pros, on roads already closed to the public.

Bear in mind that women can take part in the Men’s Tour stage just as men can take part in the Women’s Tour stage.

For this 1st edition, 32% of the participants were women. Still a long way from parity, but already very encouraging!

The day before: village and micro-trottoir

Picking up your race number is easy. The volunteers are friendly and smiling, and the atmosphere in the village is pleasant, if modest. A few exhibitors, lively stands, and above all a giant screen where you can follow the Tour de France Femmes live. It’s already motivating.

With registration, you receive a race number, a Santini jersey (I’m only sorry it’s a “mixed” model, so it’s clearly cut for men in reality…) and a small waterproof bag for depositing belongings at the locker and retrieving them at the finish.

I also take the opportunity to get out my microphone and do a micro-trottoir with some of the participants. I ask them why they’re happy to be there, what motivates them to participate. The answers are varied, but all breathe enthusiasm. These exchanges energize me: meeting all these women and feeling their shared excitement is already part of the fun!

D-Day: rain and departure atmosphere

In the morning, it’ s a deluge. We drop off the bags at the locker, and it’s a bit of a mess: mountains of soaked bags are waiting to be loaded onto a truck. I look at my little paper tag attached to the bag and seriously doubt its survival in the rain. At the finish line, a participant next to me can’t find his bag… Tip to remember: it’s a good idea to use a plastic label holder to protect the number!

As they wait for the start, the cyclists pile in wherever they can for shelter. It’s still dark, the colorful outfits stand out against the dark sky, and despite the pouring rain, the atmosphere is fun, almost surreal.

In the airlock, you have to be present 30 minutes before the start. It takes a while, but fortunately, the rain stops just then. I start from the last airlock (6), and what strikes me is the number of women around me. It’s good to feel surrounded, in a discipline where we’re often in the minority.

First kilometers: finding your rhythm

The start is quiet, it takes a while to cross the line, but then we’re off. We soon leave the city to tackle the Col de Plainpalais. In the short version, we avoid part of the climb, which takes away 14 km and 500 m of D+, but it climbs all the same, just enough to get us straight into the mood.

Usually, it takes me 30 minutes to get into the rhythm: first a little sluggish, then the legs wake up. But nothing like that. I can tell right away that it’s not a day of great form. The weeks at work have been too intense, training has suffered, and the premenstrual phase of the menstrual cycle has begun (always complicated for me). My objective is now even clearer: manage, don’t burn out and go all the way.

The first ravito, at km 40, marks the junction between the two routes. Warm atmosphere, smiling volunteers, well-stocked tables. It’s a pity there are once again so few toilets: as is often the case, the women wait forever…

I set off again, sticking to my strategy of keeping a leisurely pace, even on the flat (which there isn’t much of!). A few light showers punctuate the route, but nothing to worry about.

La Madeleine: the merciless pass

After 80 km and already 1,500 m of D+, we arrive at the second ravito, at the foot of the Madeleine. The idea was to take a real break… but a huge downpour arrived just after our stop. The choice was quickly made: nibble a little, refill the water bottles, and set off again, soaked and cold.

The sign announces: 18.6 km of ascent. This is where the race really begins. And what a slap in the face! I’d already climbed some of the big, out-of-category Alpine passes, such as the Galibier, Iseran and Croix de Fer, which I’d enjoyed quite a bit. The Madeleine, however, seemed harder. Of course, I wasn’t in great shape and I’d already covered 80 km, but above all, this pass offers no respite : there’s never a flat spot, and the gradients are constantly high (8/9%, sometimes more).

I’m trying to find the right cadence, but my legs can’t keep up. I’m making slow progress, but I know I can keep it up for a long time. The cardio remains low, it’s “just” the muscles that lack strength. I accept my pace, frustrating but necessary.

The route via Montgelafrey chosen for this stage of the Tour Femmes is narrow, forested and shady. Pleasant in the heat, no doubt, but on this day, it seems monotonous. I usually like to see the landscape change as you go up, it keeps my mind occupied. But there’s nothing like that here: you have to find your inspiration elsewhere.

The atmosphere, on the other hand, is special and beautiful. Hundreds of cyclists, all concentrated and silent: all you can hear is the regular sound of pedalling and breathing. And spectators at the roadside who, despite the rain, get out of their cars or vans to cheer them on. Real support!

I put myself totally in my bubble. I don’t want to talk, just move on. At times, I wonder what I’m doing here, why I’m doing this to myself. And then I remember that this is exactly what I like: the fact that cycling up a mountain is quite absurd and makes no sense as such, that you just have to concentrate on moving forward slowly, but moving forward all the same. Even if I’m not enjoying it as much today, I still want to go all the way.

Even if it’s not brilliant, I’m not aching, I don’t feel tired, and I know from experience that my diet (50g of carbohydrates per hour and regular hydration) is doing me good. So I’m moving forward, even if it’s hard.

6 or 7 km from the summit, the road finally opens up, revealing the Alpine scenery I’d been waiting for. At the same time, however, the skies opened up with driving rain and icy winds. I decided not to stop and put on the simple windbreaker I’d brought with me, which got soaked in seconds (according to the forecast, we weren’t supposed to have this kind of weather at all at this time of day, so I hadn’t brought a Gore-tex jacket, which was a mistake…).

I shiver, curled up on my bike, pedaling on. Every kilometer seems endless. The Zwift gantries installed every 1,000 m from the 5th kilometer before the finish seem so far apart!

I stay focused, repeating to myself that it’s just a discomfort, that it’s not serious, but I can’t wait to get there.

Arrival and icy descent

As we approach the last kilometer, the slope becomes a little gentler. I can push harder, draw on my last bit of strength. I cross the line in a mixture of joy, relief and exhaustion, more mental than physical. I pick up the medal in total chaos: cyclists everywhere, overworked volunteers, organization cars starting to pass…

But there’s no time to breathe: there’ s still the descent to Saint-François-Longchamp. I’m freezing, my numb hands struggle to apply the brakes, and I’m constantly chattering my teeth. I’ve never been so cold on a bike in my life, and I have to stay focused to avoid falling: between the cyclists passing each other on the way up and down, the pedestrians and the wet road, it’s not easy.

Just then, a woman on the side of the road calls out, “Who wants hot tea? I stop, she hands me a glass, then rubs my back with a towel. This simple, incredibly kind gesture invigorates me. I leave feeling warmed up in every sense of the word, ready to finish this damned descent.

After the effort: warmth and fervor

Finally in Saint-François, after a bit of a wait that seems long because I’m cold, but is actually quite acceptable given the scale of the event, I find my bag and change completely in the balneotherapy building. That alone is a joy. Then it’s off to the pasta party. Objectively speaking, the pasta is bland with a rather dubious sauce, but the warmth does me a world of good.

I emerge from the tent just in time for the pros to arrive. On the giant screen, we follow the final approach, and suddenly Pauline Ferrand-Prévôt attacks. As she speeds past us, the crowd explodes. Every runner is cheered. The atmosphere is incredible, electric, and I’m shivering (this time not because of the cold!).

By the time we get back down to La Chambre to collect the car (yes, as it’s not a loop, there are a few logistics to work out, which aren’t necessarily obvious either! The descent is cautious, very slow, as I dread the slightest mistake.

Outcome

This stage of the Tour was my second cyclo, and what an experience! I would have liked to have had more fun, but I learned a lot: how to cope with a bad day, how to persevere in difficult situations, how to hold on thanks to consistency. I also gained a dose of self-confidence, realizing that I’m capable of doing this kind of distance and altitude difference.

Above all, I experienced a unique atmosphere on the Tour de France Femmes, thanks in no small part to the other participants, the incredible volunteers and the spectators. Thank you all so much!