A former cyclist, polka dot jersey winner at the Tour de France and runner-up in the 1987 Giro d’Italia, he completed his gender transition after retiring: “First I hit rock bottom, then my children grew up and I decided to come out.”

Philippa York is now a writer so highly regarded that she won the William Hill Sports Book of the Year award in the UK for her book “The Escape,” written with David Walsh. It recounts her life, including her time as Robert Millar, a cyclist who won the iconic polka dot jersey at the 1984 Tour and came second in the 1987 Giro d’Italia. A climber who challenged not only the jungle of the peloton, but also the inner conflict that led him to choose to become Pippa York.

Pippa, how would you describe the cyclist you used to be?

“As a person who was very different from the one who came home to his family. When you’re good at something public like cycling, people have an opinion about you, but it doesn’t reflect who you are.”

How do you remember your successes?

“The result was important, but I especially liked the competition: I wanted to have a say in how the race would go, I wasn’t satisfied with just being carried along by the group. If I could be decisive, I would accept any result.”

What did you like about racing in Italy?

“I loved the Milan-Sanremo. Once you left the plains behind, you climbed the Turchino: on the other side, the sun came out, you saw blue skies and breathed in the sea air. That race felt like being in a 300 km long stadium, one where you were racing in places you had seen in old photos, where that great champion had punctured, where that other one had attacked. I loved it.“

What is your funniest memory of racing?

”The 1987 Giro. We were climbing, in the rain and wind, in a small group. At the top, every team except mine had someone with jackets and hot drinks. There were the Carrera guys for Stephen Roche and Roberto Visentini: I’m behind Roberto, I see them passing him a water bottle, but he doesn’t want it. So I reach out and take it myself. I ask Roberto first if he wants it, he shakes his head, so I drink it: it was hot chocolate, mixed with something I think was grappa. I take a big sip, then drink it all. Wow, what a feeling… Immediately after, there was a descent through low clouds: I thought I was in a dream, because of all the alcohol I had drunk. I don’t even remember how that stage ended.“

What was the group like in those years, between the efforts to be among the best and your inner conflicts?

”I quickly learned how to hide my emotions, which you must never show when racing. The group was a jungle, cycling a strange individual but team sport, in which everyone was your opponent. I liked being in that extremely hostile environment, seeing how everyone reacted to the pressure: who always remained silent, who got angry. The excessive masculinity stemmed from the fact that there wasn’t much diversity: everyone was Western, everyone spoke the language of the group, everyone followed those unwritten rules that no one explains to you until you make a mistake.”

How do you feel when you see photos of Robert Millar on a bike?

“I’m not ashamed of who I was. In fact, I think I should be grateful that I remained healthy and able to compete.”

He described his retirement as the beginning of his “Escape.”

“First of all, I had to hit rock bottom: I faced depression, which happens to people who change sex. I think the first five years after I stopped were the worst of my life: it wasn’t just how I felt inside, but also the end of my career and doubts about what would keep me going.”

What gave you the courage to live openly as Pippa?

“I was no longer a public figure. I had had enough of cycling, I wanted to be something else and be left in peace. When I started writing, however, I was still using my old name, Robert Millar, and I didn’t think it was right for me anymore: privacy had been important, but the time had come when I no longer needed it. It was a combination of things: my children had grown up and no longer needed to be protected, I had been asked to appear on TV, and then I wanted to write under my new name.”

Today, she commentates on cycling: how much has it evolved since she was racing?

“I think it has evolved more slowly than society in accepting diversity, for example. Today, however, there is no longer the hatred for your rivals that there was in the past: they are more like friends, they have more respect for each other as human beings. When I was racing, there was more rivalry. From a technical point of view, I think many things have improved, but the tactics, the vibrations of how the group moves are still the same: the strongest is in front and the others behind.”

Is Tadej Pogacar the strongest?

“When I look at him, I see someone who enjoys fun and competition, without having to carry the same burden that Remco Evenepoel carries, who has to race with the legacy of Eddy Merckx and everything that cycling means in Belgium. I think that for Pogacar, cycling has only recently become a full-time job, partly because he is so physically strong that I don’t think he has been tested to 100% of his abilities. He needs a rival, someone who is on his level. In the peloton, there is no longer a rivalry like Moser versus Saronni that we were used to. Who knows, maybe it will come.”