Day 6 // Graduation Day
May 17, 2026
Words by Athlyn Cathcart-Keays
Photos by Liz Seabrook and Sam Dugon
In the last day of our race, the toil of 1,300KM of riding in extreme weather conditions — on both ends of the spectrum — had begun to reveal itself on the bodies of those who arrived in Córdoba. Harsh tan lines cut across wrists and knees where gloves and warm layers had finally come off. Faces that had spent days hidden beneath hoods and buffs were suddenly exposed to the Andalucian heat, and, finally able to share resources, a communal bottle of after sun was the most coveted prize at the finish line outside Revelociona.
As the clock struck midnight on Saturday, the inaugural Lost Dot 101 race officially came to a close. Fifty-two solo riders and one pair completed the race within General Classification (GC), after a pilgrimage on two wheels from Santiago de Compostela in Galicia, through Portugal’s highest mountains, and ending in Córdoba in southern Spain.
Still Got The Legs For Dancing?
In a lush courtyard hidden away behind Córdoba’s busy streets, our finisher’s party kicked off at Círculo Cultura, where outside, local singers and flamenco dancers performed traditional songs and riders fought their way through the crowds of a city already deep in celebration for the Fiesta de los Patios.
There was, understandably, less dancing at the 101 finisher’s party, as riders collapsed into chairs to rest their weary legs, while others printed commemorative T-shirts and assembled last minute party outfits from whatever could be salvaged from hostel sink washes or emergency vintage shop finds.
Dinner was a colossal pan of vegan Perol – a traditional Córdoban rice dish that, while it bears striking similarity to paella, is absolutely not paella, our Andalucian hosts adamantly clarified.
By the time the party properly kicked off around 6pm, 39 riders had finished the race, but attention kept drifting back towards the live tracker as dots continued to creep ever closer to the city.
Those arriving earlier in the week had been welcomed outside Revelociona with a modest crowd, but those arriving directly to the party were met with the pomp of a crowd of more than 75 people erupting into cheers and applause – all crowded into the courtyard.
For some, the emotion hit immediately, and tired bodies buckled into sobs of relief as soon as they had unclipped their pedals. After following and rooting for these riders over the past week, the Lost Dot team were fighting back tears of their own.
Are We Nearly There Yet?
As midnight approached, photographer DJ Sam Dugon responded appropriately by putting on the party bangers, encouraging some of those tired legs to get their groove on as the final riders came in.
Two hours before the cut-off, Katharine Zerlauth (073) arrived and gingerly stepped off her bike. She had ridden the final 80KM with only one foot clipped in due to tendon pain. She joined us on the dancefloor right away.
Then, with less than an hour before the cut-off, Emma Young (023) joined the fiesta to become the race’s Maglia Nera – the final official finisher in General Classification. She received perhaps the loudest applause of the entire week.
With the GC leaderboard closed, some riders are of course still in transit, their sights set resolutely on the finish line. At midnight, Becky Hobbs (079) was nearing the beginning of the final parcours, with Seraina Blum (109) and Alice-Rose Williams (004), Ingrid Greger (050), bursary rider Ana Ribera (026) and others past CP3 and pointed south.
The Graduating Class Of The Lost Dot 101
Every graduating class develops its own personalities, and the 2026 Class of the 101 proved no different. Race Directors Hannah and Andrew hopped on the mic to announce this year’s awards:
Amrei Kuhne (034) easily earned Teacher’s Pet status. Alongside riding to 2nd place overall, Amrei was always a willing recruit when the race organisers needed help, whether managing the bus journey to the start, or leading the neutralised race rollout from Santiago de Compostela.
The Overachiever Award belongs firmly to Ingrid Predota (096), who arrived expecting only to finish within the GC cut-off and instead rode herself into the top ten overall during her first ever solo ultra-distance event.
Ada Haas (020) receives the Comeback Award after substantially diverting off-route to wait around for several hours to replace a broken front mech, before working her way through the pack and rolling into Córdoba in 6th place.
For pure ingenuity, the Resourcefulness Award can only go to Emily bei Cheng (045), whose failing navigation device forced her into increasingly creative survival tactics. First came a hand-drawn map sketched in panic, and then came photographing sections of the route onto a digital camera before her phone battery died completely.
The Fashion Designer Award belongs unquestionably to Rosa ter Kuile (101), who finished the race covered – along with her bike and tracker – in chocolate milk after relying on it as her sole source of calories over the final 24 hours.
Jessica Notzing (064) earns the Surprise Exam Survivor Award after battling severe food poisoning and still making it to Córdoba within GC, fuelled largely by stubbornness and the memory of her late grandfather, who had loved following ultra races online.
The Extra Credit Award goes to Em Wilson (072), who completed the Lost Dot 101 aboard an Omnium cargo bike, hauling significantly more weight through every mountain range while remaining cheerful throughout.
Jetske van den Berg (051) claimed the Crammer Award after admitting she had only properly resumed training one month before the race following research work abroad, before still producing an exceptional ride through the field.
But perhaps the most meaningful recognition belongs to Christina Holst (124), recipient of the Spirit of the Race Award.
The spirit of Lost Dot lies not simply in riding fast, but in committing honestly to self-reliance, fairness and the integrity of the challenge itself. After accidentally missing the beginning of a mandatory parcours, Christina realised her mistake and turned around to complete an additional 40 kilometres and 800 metres of climbing rather than compromise the GC standing.
Importantly, she never framed the mistake negatively. Instead, she described it as exactly the kind of mental test she had come here to experience. Returning to the Douro viewpoint she had missed the first time, she stopped properly to watch vultures circling the canyon below.
Sometimes the long way round becomes the important part.
A Different Kind Of Start Line
With the last brevet cards stamped, what remained at the finish line was more than exhaustion or relief. There was a palpable sense that something meaningful had just taken place over the previous six days – not just an odyssey across the Iberian Peninsula, but the creation of a space in which FLINTA riders could see one another fully, compete openly, and experience ultra-distance racing in an environment intentionally built with them in mind.
Again and again throughout the week, riders returned to a feeling of recognition. Not because things had been made easier to accommodate them, but because the atmosphere around the event felt fundamentally different.
“Being here with so many other FLINTA riders, there’s such a different atmosphere. I feel like that’s something only spaces like this can create. It’s really awesome”, said our youngest rider, Ida Bircher (120).
For some, that feeling translated into confidence. Susann Heidecke (115), who bivvied outside through the first two freezing, rain-soaked nights, described how the shared experience changed her relationship to fear. “I was a bit worried with sleeping outside. But knowing there’s like 150 other people – maybe not everyone sleeps outside – that gave me a lot of mental safety. Like oh, I’m part of something. We are in it together… That really encouraged me not to be afraid”.
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Others reflected on how the dynamic of competition itself shifted in an all-FLINTA field. Rosa Ter Kuile (101) explained that while mixed races can sometimes create an atmosphere shaped by comparison, the 101 felt rooted in mutual encouragement without losing its competitive edge. “There's a gratification about passing a man if you're in a mixed event. But here, I was both like so happy to see people or like even if people would pass me – I was like, yes, go you… It was a nice mix of really rooting for everyone and also bringing out the kind of competitor in me.”
The balance of support without removing ambition became one of the defining characteristics of the race. Riders still chased podium spots, managed sleep and refuelling tactics, and pushed through discomfort, but doing so in a way that felt less performative and more honest. There was less pressure to posture, and more openness about fear, fatigue, uncertainty and limits.
For Katie Moss (029), the race created an “freedom to take the lead”, while others spoke about finally being able to understand their performance in relation to a deeper FLINTA field. “Even if you’re placing strongest in the female field, you will still only be like in the top third maybe [of a mixed-gender race], so people don’t really realise what you’re accomplishing”, says Ariana Richter (082). “If it’s all FLINTA, then it feels like there’s so much more focus and you can clearly see where you actually stand — it’s nice to compare yourself to more FLINTA people”.
Experienced racer and TCR veteran Chris Murray (081) described a similar feeling: “When you’re doing well and there’s just blokes going past you, you feel rubbish… It’s wicked waking up and knowing that you’re on a level playing field with other people”.
Importantly, none of this felt rooted in exclusion or opposition. The riders were not here to prove something in spite of something else. What unfolded across the Iberian peninsula instead was a demonstration of what becomes possible when people are given room to test themselves without feeling peripheral to the story. The racing remained fierce, competition remained real, but the framework around it allowed riders to inhabit the challenge differently. It created visibility, possibility and proof.
So, chapeau to the graduating class of 2026. Next semester? Perhaps the Transcontinental Race.
Enrollment for the 2027 Lost Dot 101 will take place later this year, and we’ll try to organise better weather next time.