Before the Tour de France, Bradley Wiggins was incredible.

He was in a new team, with new kit and riding a Pinarello.

Sideburns were measured, weight was perfect at 72kg (he felt he needed to mention this in every interview) and his numbers in training were amazing.

Like a lot of supposed GC contenders, he was talking himself up and outlining the weaknesses of Armstrong, Contador, Schleck and Sastre.

He was ready to go better than his fourth place last year, a performance that surprised even him and his 2009 team, Garmin-Slipstream, when the original plan was to ride as support for the American, Christian Vande Velde.

After a stellar career on the track, including gold medals at three Olympics, he had turned his attention to the hardest road event of them all, and whadyaknow... he turned out to be a revelation.

By the end of last season, after dozens of poorly veiled rumours and denials, he changed to the big budget Sky professional cycling team, and was ready to take on the world.

Some talented Brits, Australians and Kiwis also signed with this new wonder-team, all with fantastic results and the potential to win stages, including Geraint Thomas, Chris Sutton and Greg Henderson.

But when team selection for the Tour came around, it was all about riders that would facilitate Wiggins' impending victory. Sky would think of nothing else.

That was a plan that had worked for Armstrong for his seven tour victories, and Astana were showing the same resolve this year for Alberto Contador.

It meant no Greg Henderson (a very reliable sprinter with good form leading in to the tour), and the Kiwi made his disgust at this decision known on every public forum he could find.

But, "form is a funny old thing", Wiggins stated after stage 14. He finally admitted that he had thought he was good to go, but in fact was not, and had no idea why.

Now, the pressure and expectation had finally eased. He was in 18th place on GC, 11m30s down on current maillot jaune, Andy Schleck (Saxo Bank), and there were three more stages in the Pyrenees to lose time on.

Obviously, in the lead up to the Tour de France, every team leader is asked for comment on their chances. They will be quizzed ad nauseum on where their form is at and how we should interpret their pre-Tour race results, always a not-so-secret guide to a riders' state of mind.

Eventually, like the goal of any big marketing machine, the guy most likely will start to believe the hype.

Sky Professional Cycling Team has invested more money in this venture than the GDP of most Commonwealth countries, so they're hardly about to act coy and tell Wiggins it's a ‘wait and see' race. Of course he can win. He's taller, leaner, better and has more Olympic Gold Medals than anyone else.

Of course, the beautiful and cruel thing about the Tour de France, is that anything is possible.

Riders crash out (Wiggins' potential right hand man, Simon Gerrans, fractured his elbow and was forced to retire from the race in stage four); they take more chances and get good luck (look at damn Vinokourov, the Kazakh we love to hate!), and other times, they just feel "consistently mediocre. Not brilliant, and not shit," as Wiggins bluntly put it.

Having everything you could desire (equipment, salary, team mates) and everyone around you telling you you can win is no substitute for being able to deliver.

It all serves to highlight how truly incredible Lance Armstrong's victories were.

Over the course of seven years, with varying opponents, new challenges, a media whirlwind, and the pressure and expectation that increased exponentially with every year, he managed to keep winning.

Maybe that's why, at 70th place on GC, he can smile and enjoy his final Grand Boucle.

(Bridie O'Donnell is a doctor and a professional cyclist, based in Italy, and she writes on cycling for BackPageLead.)