The one that got me: the unrelenting fight of Sarah Gigante
This year Sarah Gigante has finally begun to realise her huge potential, winning two mountain stages of the Giro d'Italia and finishing third on the general classification. But it's been a long road, with injuries and illness blighting the Australian's early career.

It was Sunday the 7th of February 2021, around 11pm UK time and I was feeling pretty satisfied with my new £20 yearly GCN+ subscription. Determined to get every penny out of it and with few other entertainment options on a random February night, I scrolled through to see what races I could feast my eyes upon.
If I’m being honest, I wasn’t too delighted. Full race replays of the Australian national criteriums (I didn’t even know criteriums were a thing at this point) and Time Trials were available, with the Australian Men’s road race starting up at 2am I began to feel a bit deflated. However, there was one race that was live and vaguely interesting to me – the Women’s Elite (and U23) road race. As someone who always seeks to get behind women’s sport, I was well up for this, although at the time my knowledge of women’s cycling in Australia didn’t extend beyond Grace Brown and Amanda Spratt.
Having gathered a reasonable understanding of cycling tactics from years of watching the Tour, what I was about to witness was not confusing to me necessarily, but it was quite shocking to actually watch it play out in front of my eyes. 19-year-old Sarah Gigante had slightly embarrassed the field over the previous three years. In 2019 she’d taken the road race with a sneaky attack, before claiming the time trial in 2020 and earlier that week in 2021.
A barely 5ft tall, 50kg teenager having such a monopoly over the national jerseys can naturally lead to eyes and focus on her; and with the Ballarat circuit featuring a prominent climb, she was a hefty pre-race favourite. The only thing going against the climbing sensation was teammates - they didn’t exist. Riding for American Continental team Tibco-Silicon Valley Bank at the time, she was the only Australian on the team and would therefore have to do everything herself.
While getting water for herself and having to move around the peloton without a wheel to guide her wouldn’t be significant problems for Gigante; her need to rely on others to dictate how the race played out would present some real issues. Given the squad sizes of Bike Exchange and Roxolt Liv, they would be the teams to control the race overall, and to manage the front of the peloton.
Unsurprisingly, Bike Exchange were represented in the breakaway, with adaptable sprinter Sarah Roy. This gave them the best of both worlds. They would be favourites if the break was never brought in, and they had Grace Brown back in the peloton conserving energy, ready to go if the peloton reached the front of the race.
As the laps ticked down, a pattern started to emerge: Gigante would launch it up the climb, either attacking or just setting a high rhythm, putting various riders behind into trouble, while diminishing the gap to the front group. However, while the entire group would follow her high pace and attacks up the climb, after the descent - on the flat part of the course - they wouldn’t come through and work with her to close the gap.
Gigante would bring the gap down by around 30 seconds each tine, then it would go back up again with the group looking at each other, with more and more riders getting a free ride on Sarah’s wheel. As I mentioned before, I totally understand this tactic. Gigante’s climbing prowess was a mutual problem for all the riders, hence working together to put her out of contention benefitted everyone, but having the entire peloton ride against you individually as a young rider can’t have been easy.
Exactly how the Brunswick CC graduate responded to this started to tug on my heartstrings. She could easily have become frustrated with the other riders, given up, or just cruised to the finish. But that’s not in her nature. Even after she was inevitably dropped by Grace Brown and some other contenders on the climb, having towed them around all day, she kept fighting for every place, and every second.
There was no miracle that brought her back into play; the story of this race was not a fairy tale comeback. It was seventh place only for Gigante. What made this ride so heroic for me, the aspect of this race that ‘got me’ in terms of falling into obsession for cycling and love for Sarah Gigante as a rider was her resilience, the fact she kept pushing out all the watts and tried her hardest despite knowing it was in vain was so inspiring to me. From this moment on I knew I wanted to cheer Sarah on to great victories, and I knew with her talent and commitment that they would come.
Ironically enough I think, the race situation is a good metaphor for Sarah’s entire career so far – the whole world against her, yet she refuses to give up. Injuries, illnesses and team changes have all meant that almost every year of Gigante’s career has been shortened either at the beginning or the end, but every time when she does get back to racing the ability is there for all to see.
After another delayed start in 2025 she has slowly built herself up, culminating in the biggest race of her career so far: two mountain stages wins and a podium place in the general classification at the Giro d’Italia.
She’s proven to be one of the best climbers in the world; now I get to cheer her on at the Tour de France Femmes. Whatever the outcome, it will be a hugely special occasion, and I am forever indebted to Sarah for being that one that inspired my love for cycling to reach another level. Sometimes the most magical moments arrive when you’re bored on a weeknight, and in 2021 one of those moments changed my life.