“People stick things on his back, shout at him, touch him… It’s just too much” — Tadej Pogacar’s mother raises concerns for welfare of world champion

Tadej Pogacar’s 2025 Tour de France victory — his fourth — cemented his status as one of the most accomplished riders of the modern era. Yet behind the statistics, the dominance, and the trademark grin lies a more fragile truth: the mounting human cost of sustained excellence.

That truth was laid bare this week in a rare and candid interview given not by the Slovenian superstar himself, but by his mother, Marjeta Pogacar. Speaking to Le Parisien, she described a son worn down by pressure, exposure, and expectation — a young man “truly exhausted” by the weight of his own success.

“It’s not a burnout, but yes — overtired,” she said. “This year I saw that he was really tired. Exhausted, maybe. And I thought: now I understand, if he ever decides to stop cycling.”

That remark is striking not because it signals any imminent retirement — Pogacar is under contract with UAE Team Emirates through 2030 and has Olympic ambitions for Los Angeles 2028 — but because of the deeper implication: even the most dominant rider of a generation has limits, and they are being tested.

The remarks come just days after Pogacar himself admitted that the 2025 Tour was the hardest of his career. In an interview on the Tour 202 podcast, he revealed that a combination of brutal parcours, freezing weather, and knee pain brought him close to abandoning the race. “My body was in shock,” he said. “I didn’t feel great. A three-week race is never easy — every rider suffers. We’re already tired after the first week, and then there are still two more to go.”

To the outside world, the champion appeared as unshakable as ever — winning 20 races across the season and collecting yet another yellow jersey. But there were moments in July, even for fans watching on television, when something seemed amiss. The familiar lightness was gone. Pogacar was curt in interviews, distant, withdrawn. According to his mother, it wasn’t just physical fatigue; the mental strain was visible too.

“He was so tired — mentally and physically. And all of it under the eyes of millions of viewers.”

Much of that pressure is baked into the role: global stardom, team leadership, media duties, and the unavoidable expectation that he will win almost every time he pins on a number. But Marjeta Pogacar pointed to something more insidious — the physical and emotional intrusion that now follows her son wherever he goes. “People stick stickers on his back, shout at him, touch him… Sometimes it’s just too much. Because he wins too often, because he has no time for autographs.”

It’s an increasingly common concern in elite sport: the absence of boundaries in a hyper-connected, hyper-visible age. Pogacar’s growing status as a global figure — and, crucially, a likeable one — only intensifies the expectations and erodes personal space.

The adulation may be well-intentioned, but the effect is cumulative. His mother described this year as the first time she truly saw the toll — a rider stretched thin by the invisible demands of fame.

Since bursting onto the WorldTour in 2019, Pogacar’s rise has been meteoric. Multiple Monuments, two World Championship titles, and now four Tours de France. Yet it’s the frequency of his success — and the pressure to maintain it — that may be the hardest to sustain.

Even Pogacar has started to acknowledge it. “I’m beginning to realise I can’t do this forever,” he said earlier this summer. “Was this my last Tour? You never know. A sporting career is short.”

His reflections are not the cries of a man planning to step away anytime soon — but they are the first signs of a recalibration, of an athlete gradually adjusting his outlook, his load, and perhaps, his limits.

And yet, despite the fatigue, the scrutiny, the moments of doubt, Pogacar remains remarkably composed. His joy in the bike is still evident. He continues to win across every terrain, from Strade Bianche to Liège–Bastogne–Liège to the Tour. He remains the most versatile and charismatic rider in the peloton.

A key part of that resilience, he’s said, comes from the structure around him — and the presence of those closest to him. “Urska is there too, so it often feels like home,” he said of his partner and training camps. “The schedule is demanding, but we’ve figured out how to make it work.”

Yet even the best-built support systems can’t fully shield an athlete from burnout. And when a rider’s own mother says, plainly, “Sometimes it’s all just too much,” it’s time the cycling world listens — not just with curiosity, but with care.

Marjeta Pogacar’s words are not a scandal, nor a warning shot. They’re a quiet, powerful reminder that even the most dominant figures in sport are human first. That excellence carries a cost. That behind the yellow jersey, the rainbow stripes, the watt-bombing and the wide smiles, there is a 27-year-old trying to hold everything together.