It isn’t very often that a world championship event is held on home soil, or, even more specifically, on one’s home trails, but that is exactly what happened last weekend as the 2024 UCI Cross Country Marathon (XCM) World Championships took place at Snowshoe, West Virginia. The course was 68 miles of backcountry goodness, trails I knew probably better than anyone, and trails I call “home” (to the point that one of the trails we rode in the race is tattooed on my forearm).

For two years, I’ve dreamed and trained in the hopes of being able to race at this event, and earlier in the summer, when I saw my UCI ranking climb into the low 50s, I knew I had made it (the top 70 riders are automatically qualified to race in the World Championship for XCM). What I didn’t anticipate was the “blowing up” of my shoulder just three weeks before the race, with a nagging injury suddenly becoming acute, and a severely torn labrum compromising all shoulder stability (and the confidence of having a strong body along with it). My doctor and surgeon were cautious, warning me of the risks of additional damage (or, more likely, crashing and injuring myself in other ways) as a result of riding on my shoulder with its near-constant subluxing. Still, I was determined to at least try to race. The uncertainty weighed on me, with no real idea of how long I would be able to keep my shoulder in joint, or how many times it would slip out of joint, or how much pain it would cause over the course of 68 miles. But I had to try.

Showing up has long been one of my values as an athlete. I know that I am not the fastest, and am well-aware that while I am fast enough (and show up often enough) to be able to race in some truly incredible races alongside some of the best in the world, that I will never win those races: I can only show up, race with heart and grit, and still likely finish mid-pack at best. This race, despite being a World Championship, was no different. Winning was never on the table, even if I was healthy, so my race plan (or “concept of a plan”) was to show up, throttle it down to 80% on the descents so as to protect the shoulder as much as possible, and then fuel well so I would be ready to pedal my heart out on the long gravel climb back to the mountain where there was less risk of injuring my shoulder further.

Perhaps the coolest part of having World Championships on home soil was the experience of welcoming the best riders in the world to trails that I know and love. It was fun to see friends from all over the world excited about the technicality and beauty of the terrain, and interesting to see how challenging some riders found the wet roots (which, during pre-rides, really weren’t wet at all, thanks to the summer drought). However, when rain swept through the area on the night before the race, I was grateful for my familiarity with the course and wet Snowshoe conditions; rather than being nervous, my confidence in my ability to “keep it smooth” on the wet roots and rocks only increased.

On Sunday morning, as we were called up to the start line, I found myself in 23rd position, ahead of several Olympic medalists and other exceptionally strong riders, due only to the fact that I’ve focused exclusively on XCM events in the last several years, and have accumulated the UCI points to go with it. Still, as the gun went off, I was quickly shuffled to the back, hesitant to risk my shoulder in fighting for position, and confident that I’d be able to slowly work my way forward over the next 68 miles.

As a result, I got caught in some traffic descending Dirt Beaver, the first descent of the day, but made some safe inside line passes on a few of the corners and tried not to get too frustrated about riding the brakes down a flow trail (it was, after all, my fault that I got stuck back there). I passed a few more riders on the next section of singletrack and was immediately surprised at how not-wet it was after the downpour the previous evening. Traction was great, my shoulder felt relatively strong, and it was time to start pedaling as we climbed back to the top of the mountain.

In typical fashion, I made up time and positions on nearly every section of singletrack, especially anytime that it trended downhill, even riding at 80%. I also, in equally typical fashion, lost time and positions on the climbs. I felt like I was riding strong and holding a solid pace that would allow me to finish equally strong, but I just don’t go uphill fast. C’est la vie.

A friend, Dave Kalt, was running tech and feed support for me, and the hand-offs at each feed zone were flawless. Each time, he had the bottles I needed ready to go, with a quick swap for clean glasses, a fresh hydration pack, etc. It was incredibly smooth, and a gift I’m incredibly grateful for–as having support on course isn’t something I take for granted!

Though the course was similar to the course we raced for the XCM World Cup in 2023, the UCI implemented a time cut-off that was new for 2024. For all racers, men, women, and those racing the amateur event, if we didn’t make it to Feed Zone 3, which was approximately 40 miles into the course (and, from previous rides, about 60% of riding time on course), by 1:00 p.m., we would be pulled. I knew, as I approached the previous Feed Zone, that it was highly unlikely I’d make that cut-off. But I also assumed, based on prior races, that we would be scored as we were pulled, so I wanted to make sure I held my position up until that point. In the end, despite my best efforts, I was passed by a Swiss rider just as we came up to the Feed Zone, just 13 minutes after the time cut off.

In all honesty, I was stoked. By my estimates at the time, I was sitting somewhere between 40th and 45th place, better than my result at World Championships in 2023. My shoulder had miraculously held together, and I’d raced all of the best parts of the course (ie., all the singletrack). Due to being pulled, I didn’t have to race the long gravel climb back towards Snowshoe (which I really don’t enjoy nearly as much as the singletrack) and would get an earlier start on the 12-hour drive to New England for the enduro stage race starting the next morning. From my perspective, being pulled was a gift.

In the end, I placed 38th. I set several PRs on trail segments that I’d ridden multiple times before (and while healthy!). Assuming that I had been able to maintain my pace (and I felt like I could–I had been fueling well!), I was en route to a course PR as well.

As I write this, I’m a week out from getting surgery on my shoulder. Recovery is long, but I should be able to race confidently next year, without the constant fear of my shoulder slipping out of joint. Right now, I’m content in the realization of a dream come true in Snowshoe XCM Worlds…but know that there will be other dreams to chase in the future once I’m healthy and strong again.