For as long as she can remember, Swiss rider Jolanda Neff has only done what she feels like doing. Maybe that's why she's now the youngest overall World Cup winner in bike history. We visited her towards the end of the 2014 racing season and spoke to her about the hardships of cross-country racing, erotic photos and maths.
The Privà Lodge in Lenzerheide looks brand new, the door to Jolanda Neff's realm doesn't even have a nameplate. She only moved into the flat, which is rented for training stays, the day before. "Yes, hello!" calls Jolanda in a warm, friendly voice. There she is, the new star of the cross-country scene. White jeans, blonde mane, huge Dior glasses with plastic frames.
She looks petite, even more petite than in the race photos that have been everywhere since her overall World Cup victory. She is the youngest ever to achieve such a triumph. There is one more race in Poland this weekend, then Jolanda wants to go on holiday to Miami with a friend. "My first beach holiday ever," she smiles, spooning up dry cornflakes with redcurrant yoghurt. Because simply lying lazily on the beach is more punishment than relaxation for this bundle of energy.
BIKE: Cross country means one and a half hours of maximum pain. Burning legs, a taste of blood in your mouth, everything hurts. What's so great about the sport?
Jolanda Neff: (Laughs) Well, it's great fun for me anyway. Of course, it hurts. You have to go through pain, but you also achieve something beautiful as a result. For me, it's one of the best jobs there is.
How does cross country feel?
For someone who has never done it before, it's extremely difficult to understand. You have to push yourself to the limit. When your legs are burning, you have to make yourself keep going anyway. Cross country means ninety minutes at the limit, from the starting gun to the finish line. You fight for every second. When the going gets tough, you have to keep going. Then you have to suffer. But that's what you train for. There's a cool saying: train hard, win easy.
Your father Markus was a successful racing driver. How much has bike racing shaped your family life?
Very strong. We were always a very active family. Holidays were always associated with sport. We had a permanent caravan in the ski area and often went skiing, snowboarding and cross-country skiing. In summer we went mountain biking. My father raced and because we children were always there, we also took part. I was six at my first competition. I won. That was super cool. From then on, my sister and I regularly took part in races.
What attracted you to competitions?
That I won.
Why is it so nice to win?
It's not necessarily the podium, the trophy or the applause. Either way, I always want to win. There were always nice prizes at the children's races. A rucksack or something. I can still remember one race where there was a huge prize table. With really great prizes. Including a complete set of equipment, cycling shorts and jersey. I had won and was the first to choose. But instead of the kit, I opted for a diary with a funny comic on it. I thought that was so great. My mum could hardly believe that I had left the equipment that she usually had to buy at a high price. But the prizes weren't the deciding factor. Winning is always better than losing.
When did it become a serious sport?
I am often asked this question. But I can't answer it exactly. There is no specific point at which I made up my mind. It was a slow, long process. It went well, then at some point a bike shop provided me with a bike. Then the following year I got a jersey. It just became more and more. Step by step. Biking was my hobby. I never saw it as a profession and I never attended a sports school. My schoolmates at grammar school were completely unsportsmanlike. I took part in races every weekend. They could never understand it. They couldn't relate to it at all. It was fine for me. I had my people in the bike scene who knew what it was all about. They talked about completely different topics in class. But that was quite good to have a balance. It meant I always had a connection to the normal world. It always made me realise that cycling might mean a lot to you. But there are other things in life.
"Okay, I might only be on my bike for two hours. But basically I have a 24-hour job. My job is to make sure I'm doing well 24 hours a day."
Has the pressure to perform increased due to the sponsors?
No, not at all. That was something I always wanted. In the end, you only ever put yourself under pressure.
You've been a pro for two years now. Cross-country is now your job and a high-performance sport. Do you find it difficult to subordinate everything to this?
No, I don't see it that way at all. I once saw an advert. It said: "It's not a sacrifice, it's a passion" - it's not a sacrifice, it's passion. It doesn't feel like I'm sacrificing anything. Logically, I do everything for the sport. I subordinate everything to it. So that I'm at the top. So that I'm perfectly prepared. But it's not like I have to force or torture myself to do anything. Of course, it takes discipline. Logically, you have to say to yourself, now I'm going to do this and that. But at the end of the day, that's exactly what I want to do. I want to get better. I want to win. I don't want to eat a packet of crisps because I know for a fact that it won't make me any faster. It makes me slower. So I don't want that either. And then it's not a sacrifice for me. Biking is pure passion for me. I decided to do this sport, so I want to do it as well as possible. And give it my all.
What does life as a professional actually look like?
My friends often ask me: 'So, did you go training today? And I say: 'Yes, I cycled for two hours'. And they're really surprised: 'What, only two hours? What do you do for the rest of the day?' But I basically have a 24-hour job. Others might sit in the office for eight hours a day. But then they have free time. Then they do whatever they feel like doing. They don't have to worry about anything, to put it bluntly. (laughs) Okay, I might only be on my bike for two hours. But I'm never really off work. I get up early, do core stability exercises, cook myself a healthy breakfast, spend an hour answering emails, typing race reports and so on. Then I get on my bike. Okay, maybe it's only two hours. Then I come home, make myself a healthy lunch and recover. Then in the afternoon I do strength training, interviews, sponsor commitments and the like. Then I come home, eat healthy again and go to bed early. Ultimately, my job is to make sure I'm well 24 hours a day.
Is sleeping also part of the job?
(Laughs) Yes, in a way. Of course, as a professional athlete you're incredibly privileged. It's a great life that I get to lead. But you can't do it without discipline. During the season, from February onwards, I don't touch a drop of alcohol and don't go to a single party. I might only be on the bike for two hours, but there are so many other things you give up for the sport. Even when I'm travelling: I'm travelling all over the world. But instead of sightseeing in cities, I look at key places on race courses.
Can you go to a restaurant and really enjoy a meal?
I like going out to a restaurant for a nice meal. But most of the time, fatty things don't turn me on. This year, we often mixed smoothies when we were travelling with the team. Vegetables and fruit, pureed into porridge, that's super delicious. There are lots of delicious things that are healthy. I certainly don't need a nutrition plan.
In a cross-country race, every kilo of excess weight can be decisive.
This is a normal calculation: watts per kilo of body weight. This is precisely why nutrition is so important. Theoretically, you can use a calculator to work out how much faster a kilo saved makes you.
Cross country is maths?
To a certain extent, definitely. But the bike is also crucial. A 100-metre swimmer arrives at the other side of the pool at some point, you can predict that almost to the second. The probability of something happening is minimal. In cross country, you can always have a flat tyre or the chain can break. There are so many uncertain factors. But that's what makes the sport so exciting.
When was the last time you really went overboard?
After the World Cup. It's like that every year. It's the last important race. The season is over for everyone. It's time to celebrate. There was a kind of après-ski pub next to the finish, right by the gondola station. It was great fun.
Were you drunk?
No, that hardly ever happens to me.
What was the last cinema film you watched?
(Thinks for a very, very long time) The other day I was in ... well, what was it called? Two months ago. A women's film. Ah! The Walk of Shame. That comedy where they have to walk home after the party.
And the last concert?
I've hardly ever been to a concert in my life. My brother plays in a band and I went to a concert in the spring. The band is called TIZ, which means Trust in Zombies. It's a Metallica ..., um, how do you say ... rock ... Metallica rock band, kind of that direction.
Heavy Metal ...
Yes, exactly. But I think it's really good. They write their own songs, which you can even buy on iTunes. My brother is more interested in music than sport.
Can you make a living from biking?
Financially, I'm doing well at the moment. Also because I'm still living with my parents and don't have any expenses in that sense. Fortunately, I can also count on support from the federal government. I'm employed 50 per cent by the Swiss army. They have a sports support programme. In Germany, there is a huge programme like that. In Switzerland, there are exactly nine summer athletes who have this privilege.
"Sometimes I find the erotic pictures of some of my bike colleagues really cheap. It almost hurts."
What is more important to be able to market yourself as an athlete: a good image or good rankings?
Good placings, of course. It's no use looking good if you're only riding around in fortieth place.
And vice versa: what good is it if you win all the races but don't fit the beauty ideals?
There are many women who have a good result and then the attention comes. But if nothing more comes after that, then nobody cares anymore. Then there are other women who win races but don't look good enough to be marketed. Of course, it's also difficult for them to find sponsors. I think the most important thing is still the placings. It's always possible to edit a photo on the computer. You can't win a race just by looking good. If you ride fast and look reasonably normal, then everything is fine.
A conspicuous number of female bikers allow themselves to be photographed in a provocative manner because they hope this will help them find sponsors. Have the makers of the infamous Cyclepassion calendar called yet?
No, they've never asked me. But I wouldn't know if I would do that either. It always depends. Pictures can be beautiful if they are sensual or have a certain style. In some cases, however, I find the erotic pictures of some female drivers really cheap. It's almost painful.
There are also pictures of you that show you in a decidedly sexy light.
My colleague Susan has photography as a hobby. She once asked me if I fancied a shoot. We simply went out into nature and took some pictures. They weren't erotic pictures, but simply aesthetic shots. We've been doing a shoot like this once a year ever since. I enjoy that kind of thing. As a professional, it's important to share something about yourself.
Your trademark is your flowing hair. All natural?
The colour has been lightened, but I've always had the curls. It's really funny. I recently overtook a runner during training. When I had to wait at a barrier, he came up and said: 'You're Jolanda! I recognised you by your hair!' That's amazing! The guy had only seen me from behind.
You work hard on yourself. Are you also happy with the presentation of the sport? The races take place in the forest. As a spectator, it's difficult to get to the track. There are hardly any television broadcasts.
I would like to see biking get more attention. Here in Switzerland, Nino Schurter has already helped the sport gain a lot of attention. I would be delighted if I could contribute something to that. More spectators and more media would of course be great.
"Actually, it's crass. The only protection we have is a 200 gram plastic helmet."
To increase the attractiveness, more and more spectacular rock gardens are being built into the courses. Are you sometimes scared?
Actually, it's blatant. The downhillers ride fully protected. Full-face helmet, neck protection, chest and back armour, protectors on arms and legs. Plus the bikes with massive suspension travel. We cross-country riders also ride down steep descents. And the only protection we have is a 200 gram plastic helmet. If you fall in the Rockgarden, the consequences can be brutal. The course builders have a huge responsibility. However, a single trail with lots of roots can be much more challenging than a rockgarden. I think technical passages are very good. But there are places where you can see that it just can't go well. At one point, the tape on a meadow was fixed with iron pegs. The stakes were really bad. One rider fell and hit a peg with his arm. The peg went into his arm, it was a mega gash. Such dangers would be very easy to avoid. Fall zones are important. Then the risk is limited, even with large obstacles.
At the World Cup race in Méribel, Dutch rider Annefleur Kalvenhaar died after a crash on the cross-country eliminator course. How did you find out about the accident?
The mechanic on our team also worked as Annefleur's mechanic. He knew her well. We heard about it as soon as the accident happened and were informed the whole time. In the afternoon we heard that it was serious and that it looked really bad. The next morning, when she died, we found out straight away.
How did you feel?
(Ponders for a long time) Yes, shit of course ...
Has that changed your image of sport? That you suddenly realise: You realise you're more fragile than you actually think?
No, not at all. I think an accident like that can happen anywhere. You can have an accident in a car. The probability is many times higher than having a fatal accident while biking. You can crash in an aeroplane. You can fall down a flight of stairs. Something can always happen. I don't see this in relation to sport, but it has shifted the perspective somewhat. You realise that life can be over tomorrow. Or today. You have to make the best of life. You never know when it's going to end. We compete and fight for every second. But life itself is something much bigger.
You are the youngest overall World Cup winner in history. How has the title changed your life?
Not much so far. I'm getting more media enquiries. Television has been there twice. I answered 34 emails the day before yesterday. Nothing has changed for me personally. But that's a good thing.
Info Jolanda Neff
Vita
Jolanda Neff was born on 5 January 1993. Her father Markus was a successful racing cyclist and introduced Jolanda to biking at an early age. She has been a full professional since 2012.
Teams
Jolanda clocked up her first bike kilometres in the kids' team founded by her father. She started her professional career in the Liv Pro XC Giant team. She has been riding for Team Stöckli since 2015.
Successes
Three World Championship titles in the U23 class, overall World Cup victory in 2014 and 2015, plus various national championship titles and World Cup successes, European Cross Country Champion 2015 and 2016, Marathon World Champion 2016
Hobbies
Drinking coffee, shopping, meeting friends
Contact us
www.jolandaneff.ch
