Closing my eyes on the Silverstone podium, hearing the anthem, raising my arms to the sky, and knowing that I was back. It wasn’t just a win. It was a release. A reply to everything we’ve carried on our backs these past months. And yes—it felt incredible.
Saturday didn’t begin how I hoped. Right off the line, the front holeshot device got stuck. The bike wouldn’t brake like it should. I dropped to P19 in a flash, chasing the field like I was riding on sand.
But I hung in there. Head down, heart open. I pushed lap after lap and fought my way back to fourth. Not a podium, but it felt like a small victory. A reminder to myself that the fire’s still there. Burning stronger than ever.
The main race was an emotional rollercoaster. Starting from P11, in the middle of the chaos, and then a red flag threw everything into reset.
And that’s when something clicked. I rode the way I love to ride: sharp, calm, hungry. I picked off rider after rider, no panic, no desperation. Then suddenly, I saw it—the lead. I didn’t overthink it. I just went for it. And when Quartararo pulled off with a problem… I knew the door was open.
Those last few laps—I’ll never forget them. The team watching from pit wall, me out front alone, every corner more intense than the last. Then the checkered flag. Victory. Finally. After 609 days. On an Aprilia. On a bike that’s starting to feel like mine. With a team that believed in me, even when the results weren’t coming.
This one’s for the people who kept believing. Who told me, “Don’t worry, your time will come.” For my team, my family, the fans who stuck by me through the rough weekends. I didn’t win alone—we won this together.
Now we know we can be up front. This isn’t just a spark. It’s a signal. And I can’t wait to get back on the bike and prove it again.
See you at the next one.
