Jonas Vingegaard doesn’t chase glory in one-day races. He doesn’t throw himself into the chaos of cobblestones and sprint finishes.
He doesn’t flex his muscles in Milan-San Remo or take a desperate shot at Liège-Bastogne-Liège.
He just suffers. For weeks.
And that’s why he wins.
Some call it boring. Some call it genius. Let’s dig into it.
1. His Superpower: Extended Suffering
Some cyclists thrive on five-second bursts of raw power. Some dance up short climbs like caffeinated gazelles.
Jonas Vingegaard? He drags himself through the dirt and the pain for three weeks, and at the end of it, everyone else is in pieces.
It’s not that he can’t win a one-day race. He just doesn’t need to. He was made for the long haul.
2. One-Day Races Don’t Suit His Skillset
Cycling isn’t just about fitness. It’s about power distribution, terrain, and tactics.
Vingegaard is built for 20-40 minute climbs at a soul-crushing pace. He’s not a sprinter. He’s not a “punchy” climber who thrives on short, steep hills. He’s a diesel engine. One-day races are Formula 1. He’d rather be a freight train.
3. The Modern Grand Tour Approach
Gone are the days when Tour de France contenders casually threw themselves into one-day races for fun.
Lance Armstrong rarely did them. Chris Froome didn’t bother. Even Alberto Contador focused mainly on multi-stage events.
Training for a Grand Tour is now a year-round, precision-engineered machine.
Altitude camps. Stage race simulations. Recovery cycles. One-day races? They’re a distraction.
4. Pogacar and Evenepoel Are the Weird Ones
People ask, “Why doesn’t Vingegaard do one-day races?” Wrong question.
The real question is: “Why do Pogacar and Evenepoel bother?”
Historically, stage racers don’t mix with classics riders. But Pogacar and Evenepoel?
They break the mold. They’re freaks. Vingegaard? He sticks to the script.
5. He Could Do One-Day Races… But Why?
In 2022, Vingegaard tested the waters. He did six one-day races.
He won the Drone Classic. Finished 16th in Il Lombardia. Scraped into the top 40 in others.
Decent results. But was it worth it? Nah.
He wins Grand Tours. That’s the goal. That’s where the money, prestige, and legacy are.
6. It’s About Specialization, Not Weakness
Being great at one thing means sacrificing others. Van der Poel wins Milan-San Remo but can’t handle a full Grand Tour.
Vingegaard conquers the Tour de France but won’t light up the Tour of Flanders.
They’re both kings—just in different castles.
7. The Risk of Injury and Fatigue
Every extra race is a risk. A crash in Paris-Roubaix could ruin an entire season. A mistimed peak could derail Tour de France form.
When your whole career is built around three weeks in July, why risk it?
Vingegaard plays it safe. And safe wins.
Table Summary:
| Reason | Explanation |
|---|---|
| Extended suffering is his superpower | He grinds people down over weeks, not hours. |
| One-day races don’t fit his skillset | He’s a pure stage racer, not a punchy climber or sprinter. |
| Grand Tour riders rarely do one-day races | Froome, Armstrong, Contador—none of them bothered much. |
| Pogacar & Evenepoel are the exceptions | Most GC contenders avoid one-day races. |
| His one-day results are mixed | He tried, but the wins weren’t there. |
| Specialization breeds dominance | He wins where it matters most. |
| One-day races add risk | Injury or bad timing could wreck his season. |
Conclusion: The Ugly, Beautiful Truth
Jonas Vingegaard is not an entertainer.
He’s not a showman.
He’s not here to dazzle you with last-minute attacks or impossible sprint finishes.
He’s here to squeeze the life out of you. Slowly. Over weeks.
And that’s why he wins.
The fans cry, “Why doesn’t he race one-day events?”
He doesn’t need to.
He’s already won the only battle that matters.
And somewhere, in a quiet training camp, far from the madness of cobblestones and classics…
Vingegaard is suffering.
Because that’s what he does best.
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