I might be sitting on the couch right now with my leg propped up on pillows, but I can’t help but reflect a bit. On week ago, I was racing (and crashing) in the XCM Pan-American Championship in Colombia, and in a mere six weeks, I will be racing in the XCM World Championship in Scotland.

How did I get here?

Racing at the 2022 Snowshoe XCO World Cup was a dream come true–something I really hadn’t even dared to dream. I started mountain biking late–I was 28 the first time I raced a mountain bike, and nearly 30 the first time I ever did an interval (or trained for anything in the endurance-sports realm). In the last 5 years, I’ve often felt like I’m playing “catch up,” trying to race with women who have been racing mountain bikes 2- or 3-times as long as I have, with years of endurance training and skills practice.

I still remember driving home from a race at Brown County State Park in June of 2018 and talking with David Coar on the phone. It was the start of my first full season of racing mountain bikes, and I had just won my third consecutive race (in the Sport category). Being from the Midwest, the culmination of the season was always Iceman, the legendary Traverse City point-to-point mountain bike race that took place in early November, and as I talked to David that day on the phone, he suggested that I should try to race in the pro women’s field that November.

Up to that point, I was just having fun, dabbling in mountain bike racing like I had dabbled in cyclocross and crit racing. I never dreamt that it could be anything more. Volleyball was “my” sport, even though my knees and shoulder protested constantly.

But David’s comment got me thinking.

I’ve always been a “why not?” kind of person, and so I decided to give it a shot. (Ironically, my result that very first year racing in the pro field at Iceman is, to date, my best Iceman result yet). Thanks to some free coaching from a co-worker, I started to learn the art of training–intervals, endurance rides, rest days, and so much more–and it was addicting. I loved the structure and routine of training, as well as the purpose it gave me. I was hooked.

Still, world cups? National championships? Pan-Ams? World championships?

I didn’t even bother dreaming about them.

Then, in 2021, while flipping through the Blue Ridge Outdoors magazine, I happened to see that the 2024 World XCM Championships were going to be held at Snowshoe, in West Virginia. At that point, I had still never been to Snowshoe, but my imagination was captured. I knew there was no chance of really being competitive at a World Championship….but what would it take to qualify? Could I at least race there?

In a lot of ways, that moment shifted the trajectory of my racing. I had a new goal.

For the past two years, Snowshoe 2024 has been my focus.

Getting into the World Cup last year was a bit of a shock–and racing at that level (and in that terrain / conditions) for the first time was also a shock (welcome to Snowshoe, haha!). I didn’t have a great race that day, and my performance at the end of the season was even worse.

I started 2023 with a new coach (Mike Schultz, of Highland Training) and improved confidence. Between the changes to the structure of my training and increased focus on descending confidently on more technical terrain, I came into the season feeling strong and hopeful.

Then I crashed.

Whiskey 50 was my first “A” race of the season and despite the heat and elevation, I was hoping for a good result. After missing a feed and splitting my knee open halfway through the race, I did finish, but not with the result I was hoping for. I knew that getting in the top 10 would be a stretch on a good day; 15th just didn’t feel like a result that “proved” I belonged with the top riders.

The e-mail from USA Cycling, notifying me that I’d been selected to race at the XCM Pan-American Championship came before I even had the stitches out. I couldn’t believe it. I had no results in the last 8 months that at all indicated I was capable of competing at the international level. The only reason I can come up with for my selection is that no other female riders wanted to go. Here again, I felt like my “why not try?” mentality had given me an opportunity that I otherwise wouldn’t have gotten.

Racing in Colombia? Why not?

The Transylvania MTB Epic 5-day stage race was the next “A” race on my calendar for the year, but my recovery from the crash in Arizona was just not complete enough to be able to really race. Going into the event, I wasn’t even sure that I’d be able to ride all five days, so the successful completion of the race (and 8th in the GC) should have felt like an accomplishment, but didn’t. I knew I could do better–just couldn’t seem to put it together during a race.

Following TSE, I spent two days at Snowshoe riding with friends and felt SO good hitting trails and features that I hadn’t been capable of riding before, giving me some little bits of validation that I was improving technically, even if not yet able to pedal at full strength.

I got the notification about being selected for the XCM Worlds team later that week. I think my mouth dropped open. I still had no results to my name this season. I wasn’t even sure if my knee would be ready for Pan-Ams. AND this year is “super-Worlds,” when all the cycling disciplines are having their World Championships at the same location at the same time. Surely there were more qualified riders who wanted to go? It was in Scotland, after all–who wouldn’t want to go?

I raced an XCO and XCT event the beginning of June that served the dual purpose of testing to see if my knee could handle a hard effort, and shocking my system back into the red zone. With ten days until Pan-Ams, I was thrilled to find that my knee finally felt good, even if my lungs and legs were burning after an entire month’s break from hard training. When I arrived in Colombia, I felt strong, even if a little less confident about my ability to hold pace climbing with the South American riders. Still, I handled myself decently in the chaotic start, and then surprised myself by passing riders up the first big climb and finding myself securely in the top ten. Maybe I did belong here?

And then I crashed again.

On the same knee.

The frustration, anger, and disappointment following this second crash has been real.

I was just feeling strong again.

I’ll be missing XCO Nationals in Pennsylvania, which I was looking forward to, but I’m less bothered by that than the prolonged break from training. I still love the training: the rhythm and structure of it, the chance to really push myself, and the joy of being on my bike in the woods. The best case scenario will mean I can start easy pedaling in a week, giving me five weeks until Worlds, but as anyone in the endurance world knows, repeated gaps in training is the enemy of fitness gains. Fitness is built on that miracle of consistency over time…and this spring and summer, I just haven’t been able to string the days, weeks, and months together to be in top form.

Do I deserve to race at Worlds?

Absolutely not.

Am I 100% thrilled for the opportunity?

Yes.

Will I be ready?

Only time will tell.

And that might be the most frustrating part of the healing process: no one really knows how it will end up. There are guesses, projections, and hopes, but in the end, its up to the body how and when it heals.

Perhaps that’s also my answer to how I got here. I don’t really know.

What I do know is that I value showing up and doing my best–regardless of circumstances or outcome. I believe in the power of “why not?” Give it a shot, show up, ask the hard questions, be willing to be denied. At least I tried.

And where to from here?

First stop: Scotland.

Then, well, only time will tell. But I’m still dreaming of Snowshoe 2024…