Nearly a decade has passed since Coryn Labecki won the Tour of Flanders, but she can still walk through that day step by step. Now coaching at Team EF Coaching, she reflects on the race differently than she did then, not as a single triumph, but as a series of small decisions that happened to align.
"Flanders doesn't follow a script," she says. "It's unpredictable, and it rewards the riders who can adapt."
The 2017 edition proved her point. Her team didn't go in with Labecki as their sole focus. Instead, they stayed flexible, seeding riders in early breakaways and avoiding unnecessary work. When some moves didn't stick, others remained in position. The strategy was simple: keep options open while other teams burned energy chasing ghosts.
Everything shifted after the Kwaremont. That's when the call came down to ride for Labecki. Suddenly, the race had definition. A break needed closing, and her teammates committed fully. By the final kilometre, the race had fractured into a smaller, more manageable group.
There was no choreographed lead-out, no time to set the stage. Labecki went on instinct alone, launching her sprint early. "I wasn't even sure I'd win," she admits. "I half-expected someone to come past right at the line." But no one did.
"Flanders doesn't follow a script. It's unpredictable, and it rewards the riders who can adapt."
What she remembers most vividly now isn't the victory itself. It's what came after, being ushered away from the finish, catching sight of her family outside, and stepping out to share the moment with them. In a race defined by constant motion, that stillness meant something.
Flanders is sold as a race of raw strength, but Labecki sees it differently. "Positioning and timing matter just as much," she explains. "And honestly? A lot of it comes down to staying out of trouble."
That's where coaching gives her clearer sight lines. She watches how teams structure their attacks, who steps up when it counts, and which squads anticipate moves rather than chase them. The race tends to blow apart around the Koppenberg. From there, positioning becomes almost everything, and mistakes compound quickly.
"It's about setting yourself up for the least amount of bad luck."
The type of rider who wins hasn't really changed. You need all-around strength, comfort with technical terrain, and the ability to handle repeated efforts. But there's something else too, something harder to define. "It's about setting yourself up for the least amount of bad luck," Labecki says.
Looking at this weekend's women’s race, she expects it to be genuinely open. The strongest riders are spread thin across teams, which usually means less control and more chaos. In those situations, small tactical errors often become the deciding factor.
That philosophy carries into how Team EF Coaching works with riders. Training isn't rigid, it adapts, evolving based on your goals and how things develop. Which, when you think about it, is exactly how Flanders plays out.