There are no time-outs.

It all happened so quickly.

The peloton swirled around me as I slowed almost to a stop, searching desperately for an FDJ jersey in the feed zone. We were only 40 kilometers into the 126 kilometer race, and yet everyone already seemed panicked to get bottles.

Earlier in the race, I had dropped one out of my cage. And on such a long, hot day, I knew the situation could become critical quickly. For a moment, my world narrowed to the few inches in front of me. To the task at hand.

Get water.

By the time I looked up, the peloton was stretched out in front of me. An attack was moving off the front with a small group beginning to separate. My focus snapped back into the race as I sprinted to regain position.

But it was too late. I had missed the move.

It was a small moment in a long weekend of racing and learning with the team, but one that captured the feeling of jumping straight into the deep end and trying to learn to swim.

Something as simple as navigating a feed zone felt so unfamiliar and chaotic that it demanded my full attention. There was no capacity left for positioning, anticipating the race, or noticing the attack forming up the road.

For a few minutes, I felt frustrated with myself.

And then I remembered that this is exactly why I am here. To learn.

The truth is, that frustration is what learning feels like at first. Before you get it right, you usually get it wrong. And it is only through a long process of pushing your edge that you transform what is overwhelming today into what becomes manageable tomorrow.

It is only by taking on more than you can handle that you learn how to handle more.

But the remarkable thing I also learned this weekend is that, when you are part of the right team, you never have to handle it all on your own.

As my panic rose leaving the feed zone, I heard over the radio that my teammate Eva van Agt had covered the move. She was in the breakaway.

It was not the perfect situation for the team, as she was there without help, but it left us with a lot to play for. And as I battled for position on the final lap, I heard our DS Nico over the radio giving Eva one last push to challenge for the win.

And then….

“EVA WON!” he screamed.

Pure joy.

In that moment, everything shifted. My mistake was still a mistake. There was plenty I could have done better and will work on before the next opportunity. But the team adapted, Eva committed and together we still got to celebrate a special win for a very special and deserving rider.

I am leaving this weekend more motivated than ever by everything I still have to master in the coming weeks, months and years. And deeply grateful for the opportunity to do it alongside such a talented group of riders and staff, united by a fighting spirit and a culture of excellence on and off the bike.

Some things move quickly. Most notably, it seems, my life in the past three weeks. There is no pause button. And if you keep waiting until you are ready, you might spend your whole life that way. Waiting.

But if you want to be in the race, you have to be willing to jump in fully and to meet each challenge with a fierce commitment to pushing your edge.

Accept the mistakes. Learn as you go. Be all in on the next attack. And then another one after that.

Either way, the race will keep moving. The time will always be now. And the choice to keep chasing the dream will always be yours.

There are no time outs.

Improvement is not about avoiding mistakes. It is about learning from them. What process can you develop to reflect, adjust and keep trying again?