When 160 faces cross the finish line of a Tour de France stage, the expressions they bear rarely belie what’s going on inside. At the top of Puy Mary, on Stage 13, Dani Martínez raised his arms and, making a celebratory heart shape with his hands, dedicated his win to his son. Within seconds his expression told a story of pure elation, as that winning adrenaline coursing through his veins melted the hurt of the effort away.
Then came his fellow Colombian, Rigoberto Urán. As he stopped, still grimacing from the effort, face drained of colour, he dismounted his bike and slumped down onto the roadside curb.
“How did we do?” Urán asks. “Dani won!” I say. In an instant the grimace fades, some colour returns, and the broadest of smiles appears. His expression beams pure happiness for the success of his comrade.
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