The Irishman wins in his own scintillating style. This summer, cycling fans the world over are looking forward to his long-range, all-or-nothing attacks at the Tour de France. What won't show up on their TV screens are the long days of work, blasting intervals in altitude tents or on lonely mountain roads, examining every stitch and bolt of his equipment, and studying race courses for the best place to go. Before the Tour, we spoke to Ben about the method behind his madness — all of the calculation that goes into getting ready for a Tour de France. For Ben, it's been a lifelong process. After his stellar 2025 Tour de France, complete with a yellow jersey and stage 6 win, Ben is still getting better. And that's his favorite thing.

This is an extended interview from The Individualist, the latest film in EF Pro Cycling's Explore Series presented by Wahoo, which is out now on YouTube.

People ask me that a lot. And I think if I actually thought it was different, something would be wrong — because that's not really what I'm doing it for. I'm approaching it the same way I always have. Nothing actually changes just because I've had a good couple of years and become a more well-known name in the peloton.

Behind the scenes, yeah — new contracts, more expectations, all of that. But if I start focusing on that, I'll just take the enjoyment out of it for myself. I really just love training, getting better, and racing my bike. That's what I focus on.

I've definitely had seasons where I've put massive pressure on myself — needing everything to be perfect — and when I do that, it never goes right. It's actually when I just go with the flow, get 80 per cent of things done right, and accept that the other 20 per cent is what it is — that's always worked best for me. Getting that balance is the most important thing.

It's just building on what I've already done. There's no need to throw everything out the window and start again. I think we've found a really nice formula that works — one I can execute mentally and that produces good results. So it's more of the same. There are a couple of small things changing, like my coach now working full-time with the team, but these are little things that don't create stress or demand more mental energy. They just fine-tune things and keep everything running smoothly.

I just take it as it comes, really. Everyone's like, "Do you want to go for GC? Do you want to go for this or that?" And it's like — it's just about being the best bike rider I can be. Following the path of least resistance, almost. The one I'm enjoying the most and naturally going down. I'm not trying to force anything.

Right now I'm enjoying what I'm doing. If I ever happen to be in a position where I can race for GC, great — I'll take that opportunity and go for it. But I'm not going to declare myself all-in for one thing. There are goals in my head, things I want to achieve, but again — when I start putting pressure on myself to do things a certain way, it just doesn't work out. Take each race as it comes, and if it goes well, it goes well and that's amazing.

Most training camps are great fun. The last altitude camp I did with the team — there were 10 of us, just having an absolute whale of a time, doing stupid stuff, hanging out together, but still getting the work done. That's what it's about.

Sometimes, you are on your own, trying to get the work done and stay motivated and positive — sometimes stuff happens. You just make the most of it and adapt. This spring, my partner and the dogs came out for a stretch, which broke it up a bit.

It all comes back to my dad, really. He introduced me to cycling, drove me everywhere, got me a bike, showed me what went along with it. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be here. He showed me a lot of sports when I was a kid, and cycling was always the one I kept coming back to.

I have really fond memories of the velodrome — Sunday morning club sessions, a bunch of kids my age doing skills and little bike races. Just a nice community around it. I think that community aspect is what kept bringing me back.

If you want to be a committed bike rider from where I'm from, you've got to be pretty thick-skinned. The winters are tough, the lanes are filthy, the car drivers are angry. You've really got to love it to be getting out there every day.

But on the flip side, there are some great clubs, a great support system. So many people to thank in my local area — guys buying me group sets when I was a kid, taking me to races, lending me wheels. Again, it's that community. There's a lot of people you'd never see at a race who are just passionate about riding bikes and club runs, and that was a genuinely great thing about where I grew up.

And there's some pretty nice riding roads too. Clee Hill was my stomping ground — doing efforts up and down with a national 10-mile TT holder, bashing through the lanes with a group of older guys. That's just part of growing up and riding a bike around there.

I think it came from not having a sprint, honestly. I've always known that if I go to the finish of a bike race with pretty much anyone, I'm probably not going to win. So I've always found another way.

Growing up in the U.K., you can only race on circuits or the track, and most races end in a sprint. So basically my entire junior life I was just attacking everywhere and anywhere I could, without really thinking about it. Sometimes it paid off, sometimes it didn't, but it was always a better chance than going to the line and trying to out-sprint people. That's where I learned to find success, I guess.

It all started with mountain biking, really — my dad was into it, a few of his mates too, so I started racing on a mountain bike and absolutely loved it. But I always knew I wanted to be a road rider rather than a mountain biker.

So I was on the GB Olympic Academy, full mountain bike program, and I got let go after a couple of years. They never really gave me a reason, and I hadn't done anything wrong as far as I could tell. But honestly, it was probably the biggest blessing in disguise. It was the trigger for me to reach out to Jacob Tipper who became my coach — that was around 2016, so nearly 10 years ago now. He's still my coach today and now works for the team. That was a huge turning point.

It also pushed me to reach out to road teams. That transition happened in a weirdly fortunate way — a friend I raced with at Solihull Cycling Club ended up going to a Zappi junior team and I ended up there too. I had no clue about the team. They sent me a calendar in February and it had international races on it. I didn't even know that was coming. It was a shock — for me, for my parents, logistically and financially. But one thing led to another, and I started to realize I could compete abroad.

That mindset carried over into the under-23 years. I just started sending my CV to anyone and everyone who would take it, trying to take my own fate into my own hands. That got me a ride at Wiggins.

And somewhere in the middle of all of that — between getting dropped by GB and everything else happening — I declared for Ireland. That was another step that really put my career on the trajectory it's on. It got me into actual junior road races, exposure, and eventually onto the UCI team for L'Avenir, which was the first real breakthrough moment. Those are the things that got me here today.

I don't think I ever knew I was going to be really good. But I was hungry for it. I really wanted it.

And actually, what I was saying earlier about putting pressure on myself and it not working out — that was me as a junior and in my first years as an under-23. I was so hungry for it that it became almost obsessive, and that was a hindrance rather than a help. When things went bad, I'd stress out, and it became a downward spiral.

When I look back, all my real success came when I was just having fun and getting about 80 per cent of things right — just enjoying it for what it was. As soon as I started putting pressure on it, everything crumbled. That's one of the big things I carry with me now.

You just can't take it too seriously. At the end of the day, it's just racing a bike.

The thing that springs to mind: on training camps before, me and one of my best mates, Thomas Gloag — we were at a camp and we went go-karting. People were like, how can you go go-karting on a training camp? And we just thought, why not? It's good fun, it's not doing any harm, we're still getting all the work done. If we go out for ice cream after an easy ride, yeah, there's a cost, but there's a balance, isn't there? If you're doing that once out of 10 days, it's fine. A lot of people would scoff at that — "are you really prepared if you're doing that?" But actually, why can't I?

Definitely. The past couple of years I've really found a good balance and started to refine it. I know when I need to knuckle down and get the hard work done, and I know when I need to relax and give myself some mental breathing space — because it can very quickly become all-consuming.

It's hard to put into words exactly what the formula is, but I definitely know it. I can feel it when I'm going too far in either direction.

That refers to my experience of just attacking relentlessly — if one move works, great, I can hold on and win. But you can't get away with that forever at the WorldTour level. And as I become better known, you have to be a bit more tactical about it.

The first step was just identifying what I was doing. Before, I'd go into a race and see red — once I started attacking, I couldn't stop. I didn't know how to break that rhythm. We did a lot of work last year watching race footage, talking about it psychologically, and even just taking those first steps really helped.

Now I'm more present in races. Before it was just go, go, go. Now I can think: OK, I need to go now. Now I need to rest. I'm still figuring out the best way to do it, but I think it's making me a better rider. A lot of my success last year came from actually thinking about what I was doing. I've always had the physical ability — it's just about learning how to use it.

Ultimately, I've learned that the best way for me to win is that way, and that's never going to change. Just because I'm thinking more carefully about it doesn't mean it's going to happen on the first attack or the first attempt — it's still going to come down to taking chances and seeing if they work out.

My racing style is always going to be that way. If I'm going to win bike races, that's how I have to do it. I'm just trying to be smarter about it so my success rate is higher.

It's pretty cool. With a sprint finish, you get that snap of emotion in an instant. But for me, you're fighting for it and then gradually, as you get closer to the line, you're realizing — OK, I've done it. You really get to soak it in.

Like the Tour stage last year — when I started to realize I had it, you just feel this pressure and relief lift off your shoulders. Tears in the eyes. And you get to prolong that feeling for a couple of kilometers because you're still not actually at the line yet.

But the thing I remember most isn't the personal side — it's actually everyone around me on that day. Seeing my teammates in the peloton just screaming and shouting. Calling my partner afterwards. My parents. Getting back to the hotel and the whole staff basically having a party. For me, that was the real bit. Seeing everyone celebrate with me — that's what it's about.

It made me feel pretty proud, honestly. Quite emotional. Like some of the sacrifice was worth it. The Tour is such a high-pressure, high-stakes environment, and just to see everyone let their hair down — it was so nice.

It's been a big change. It used to be the passionate cycling fan who digs deep into the sport going, "Oh yeah, that's him." Now it's random people going, "Oh, that's Benny." That's the change I've noticed. It's not at a massive level — nowhere near like Tadej or anything — but it's there.

When I got back from the Tour, I was riding up one of the main climbs in Andorra and basically every other car was stopping, people trying to take pictures, screaming out the window. Just really positive and friendly. Still getting a bit of it here in Calpe — you ride past a group and everyone knows who you are. It's a surreal experience.

Just trying to be a good role model, I guess. I think about little Ben Healy going to Revolution track days, trying to get autographs from the pros. I just try to think about how I'd want those people to act. You have good days and bad days, but you do the best you can.

Not really, to be honest. The yellow jersey especially caught me completely by surprise. That's not something you can ever really plan for. So many great riders have tried to actively target yellow and it's just elusive — the stars have to align. That happened to me. I had the legs to finish it off, but in that moment I just thought: I need to savor this and enjoy it while I can.

I don't think I'll ever fully adapt to it, but I can definitely become more comfortable with it. It'll always feel a little strange, but learning how to deal with it — that's just something you figure out every day.

It's been pretty straightforward, honestly. I've always had full faith in him. He understands the way I like to work, and that's made things smooth sailing. When I was first looking for a professional contract, one of my priorities was finding a team that would let me stay with Jacob. This team said yes.

Ten years between a coach and athlete is genuinely rare. It's clearly been working, so there's no reason to break it up.

The past couple of years it's been about identifying the good and bad from the previous season — what I need to work on, what I need to keep doing. It's actually a pretty simple process, and it gets interesting when you dive into those specific things.

What Jacob is really good at is identifying exactly what I need and creating a balance of things I'm actually realistically going to do and commit to. When he has ideas or suggestions, I have full faith in them and I fully commit. That tends to work out pretty well.

Definitely. One of the things I get the most from riding, training, racing — all of it — is genuinely enjoying the process of getting better. Identifying something I need to work on, putting the effort in, and being rewarded for it. You can apply that to anything in life and find enjoyment in it. The hardest thing is finding the direction in the first place. Jacob and I are both open to innovative ideas and good at just putting our heads down and getting on with it. That's the most enjoyable part.

This season is a little different because in every other season there's been really obvious low-hanging fruit — clear things to change or work towards. Last season it was the psychology and race tactics. Before that it was sprinting. But last year went so well that it's actually quite hard to ask, what do I need to do better?

Sometimes "don't fix what's not broken" is exactly right. We're going through and refining everything we've been doing. The one big thing that's always in the back of my mind is my sprint. I've lost a lot of races because of that, and we're doing everything we can to improve it. Maybe it comes, maybe it doesn't — but we're working on it.

The other big project is the collaboration with the team as a whole — improving our relationship and what we can actually achieve together. That's a big one.

From Jacob's side, I think there's always been an element of not throwing the kitchen sink at it straight away — a longer-term vision. From my side, I just always had full confidence in him and trusted him to control the process. My job was to listen, do the training, do the racing, and trust the path he was laying out.

And I think that trust is a testament to 10 years together. That's one of the massive positives of that relationship — he's had that long-term vision, and it seems to be working out.

I really want to win a one-day Monument or WorldTour race. The ideal one would be worlds — that rainbow jersey is just so iconic. That's the big goal for the next couple of years. There might never be a better window in my career for it, so I want to go for it.

Liège, Amstel — fully prepped for those as well. And then alongside all of that is the Tour. The Tour is the biggest thing in cycling, and to be successful there is just so rewarding — and ultimately what the team wants too. Another stage win would be incredible. I think I'm in pretty good stead to at least go and try for those things. I'm feeling better than ever, and I'm just excited to see where I'm at.

I've had a spring with some bad luck, but I'm in good shape and ready to race. I'm looking forward to being back racing again and hopefully racing at the front.

Last year was a standout year and it would be amazing to replicate it, but even half that success would still be a successful Tour in my eyes. There's not too much pressure — I just want to be up front and in a fight for a stage win, maybe even two. There are a lot of hard transitional stages this year, so I think there'll be plenty of opportunities for breaks.

Our team is super strong and pretty well balanced. We can go into this Tour with any goal in mind and be adaptable to any situation. We have a lot of experience, a lot of young guys — it's going to be a fun one.

I have had a good prep. I did an altitude camp, which I was able to do the full block of, and then Dauphiné as a prep race — even though I got sick, I didn't really miss too much and was able to get back into training fairly quickly. And yeah, some heat work in Mallorca. Hopefully that's me ready.

Going back to the psychological side. That really was my biggest lesson — seeing what I can do when I actually think in a race. Strade Bianche this year is a good example: I probably had worse legs than in 2024, but I finished fourth because I raced much smarter. Even not on my best day, when I race intelligently, I can still get really good results.

That was almost the first race of the season, and I carried it with me all year. I'm just going to keep that rolling.

Honestly? If I retire tomorrow, I'm pretty satisfied with my career. As long as I'm enjoying it, I'll continue. You see it in so many sports: people get to the top and then ask, what more is there? That's because they've always been chasing the next thing. I don't want to be that person. I want to be present in what I'm doing and enjoy it to the maximum — not just constantly looking for the next thing, the next thing, the next thing. That can become a slippery slope.

Yeah, I think most of what I've spoken about today is community, process, just riding my bike. That's what I enjoy. The winning is the cherry on the cake — but you still love the cake the whole way through. That's the way I like to look at it.

I'm still figuring that one out, actually. I want to say I'm just still Ben Healy — same person I've always been. And I definitely am. But people treat me differently now, and that's the big thing I've had to reckon with.

I went into team camp this year thinking everything would be the same as always. And then I started noticing that the younger guys on the team were treating me differently. I didn't even realize they were viewing me that way, so I didn't make the effort to show them I'm not that version of me — the one in the media, the one who wins bike races. I just want to be, you know, just Ben.

It's a hard thing to put into words, but that's the feeling. And actually, EF Education-EasyPost is probably the best team to show that I am just Ben Healy — because I have some really solid mates here who will absolutely give me a hard time if I do something stupid, and hopefully the older guys do too. Because that's what you deserve, and that's how it should be.