Just get through it
My journey through 2025 Marathon National Championships
Most people know parts of my story, a small collection of the last year. However, to put into perspective of just how important it was for me to get to the finish line of a race I never thought I would start, we have to go back in time. Right after my first podium of the season, on April 23rd 2024 I fell at practice, Ending up off my bike about ten feet down an embankment. To this day, I don't remember the crash or a majority of the moments following it. It's almost ironic that the coach that watched me fall says we were having a discussion about the procedure for a concussion while we waited for help. When help arrived, our team medics who also happen to be my parents, they knew something was wrong, I walked about half mile out of the trail without letting go of trees for balance the whole time, to the parking lot joking with my teammates but acting a little funny( is what I've been told). The next day, I insisted on going to school. I was in a very rigorous class and was scared to fall behind. My teacher overheard me talking to a classmate about feeling bad and went to get the school AT who took one look at me and sent me home to my doctor. My doctor diagnosed me with what we thought was a mild concussion and I would be back at school on Monday. That never happened. Two days later I woke up and couldn't speak more than one word at a time or walk more than two steps. My parents, immediately concerned, bring me back to my doctor who orders imaging and gets me into the concussion clinic at UVA. My providers called it a medical miracle that I did not have a brain bleed and firmly believe that my helmet saved my life (Wavecell for the win). The next four months pass in a blur of multiple nerve blockers to try and kill the headaches that just wont stop, PT three days a week for the whiplash and balance issues as well as a long list of medicine trying to do whatever we could to get the headaches to go away. I never went back to school that year, almost completely disappearing for a while. My doctors honestly didn't know if I would ever be able to ride a bike again. However, I was determined, when I finally got back on my gravel bike on one of the first rides, I went over the bars at a high rate of speed and had to start almost all over again after getting my speech back to almost normal. The day after I was semi cleared to go back to mountain biking I pulled a tendon in my knee and had to start healing that as well. The late fall season was hard. I’ve had many setbacks and was pushing myself as hard as I could. When winter came, parts of my life fell apart. My injury, my Dad’s cancer diagnosis, and some other shake ups made me realize that anything can happen at any time and you need to live every moment to the fullest. I vowed to come back in a way no-one around me would expect. That winter I worked the hardest I've ever worked, skiing three-four days a week and spending the other days working out or on the trainer while remaining a straight A student to recover my GPA (missing two months of school is not great) .When biking season came back around, I was determined to make every moment and every race worth it, until my luck strikes again, on the very first practice of the season I take a hard fall and break my ribs. Recovering from that, I continue to ride as fast and as hard as I can, luckily by the first official race of the season it had healed placing just outside the top ten. In my next race, I lost a sprint for eighth. The next week, I went into my home course full of determination just to flat with a large hole in my sidewall within the first half mile. I decided to run that race rather than take the DNF so I still got the points. The rest of my season went pretty uneventfully just filled with riding. During that time I decided, with the support of my coaches, that I am going to race marathon nationals in July, training for that with my best friend and teammates was amazing. I took a two week hiatus to coach skiing in Oregon and that was just what I needed to come back refreshed because burnout was knocking on my door. On the fourth of July, my teammate and I went out for a course recon and all was well until we were about half way up what we deemed the death climb (Buck) there was a turn with a very sharp cutoff into a deep-ish ravine, and this freaked me out. Two days before this ride I had an appointment with my neurologist and I passed my first normal neuro exam, almost sixteen months since my accident happened. PTSD can be a funny thing, I wasn't scared of bikes after my accident or even the falls that followed. Were there trails I refused to ride on, yes, but I was never truly scared of a trail to the point of tears before. The best skier in the world Mikaela Shifferan has talked about this feeling as she has felt it too, one day you are so confident in yourself and your biking and then next you are stuck in the what if and the fear to ever experience that again. After you have a crash you are not alone in that feeling and never think that it invalidates your ability as an athlete or your progression forward from your injury. I got over that moment by taking a break and walking my bike past that spot. I wasn't comfortable and I wasn't going to push my mind at that moment, I still had 15 more miles to go. Being scared and walking something is ok,even on the national stage.
When race day came,I knew I had the fitness to finish, but I didn't know if it would all come together. There were many moments throughout the race, I thought I wasn't going to be able to recover. On the starting line, it all felt so real. There I was about, to race a national championship race, the girl who a year ago thought she would never get back on the start line again. As I did my pre-race ritual I prayed for the safety of my competitors and a finish to prove to myself I could. Going up the first climb my chain came off the front of my cassette and I was scared my day was over before it even started only to get stung by a bee less than a minute later. An older gentleman stopped his race to help me get back on my bike, without him I would have lost so much time. There are so many people that were supportive, while getting passed or passing all you could hear was congratulations or well wishes. Everything was going great the first 15 miles, my pacing was solid and I felt pretty good. I had been battling tendonitis in my bad knee so I knew that pain was something I was just going to have to bear. After the first feed things began going downhill. When we made it to buck, not only was I still a little shaken about the trail itself but the heat started getting to me. I couldn't hold anything down, throwing up every five to ten minutes. There was a pack of us leapfrogging each other alternating between walking and riding, every member of that group felt each other's pain and just kept rallying one part at a time. When we finally made it to the gauntlet, I was still too hot. I had goosebumps but a little rain cooled me down for a minute. Going down gauntlet, I crashed pretty hard but was determined to not let it shake me I just keep trucking. We got to the bottom ready for some cold water at the aid station, only to learn that they had no more water to give, we just had to keep going. In this next section,I had an interaction I don't think I will ever forget. A gentleman on a single speed, I wish I had caught his name, stepped out of the trail to let us pass and as we went passed shouted out that he was proud of me, that I could do it and I had the battle scars to prove it (the mud and blood running down my arm). I had many interactions like this and one of them saved my race a little later. Soon after I made a dumb mistake. I wasn't thinking clearly due to fatigue and, rode too close to the edge of the trail and it gave way, sending me sliding down a steep ravine (Sound familiar?). I was tangled well, pinned with a sharp stick stabbing my stomach hard enough to bleed, but not rip my bibs( shout out primal). It took a couple minutes for my coach Erik to get me out of that mess (we’ll get back to him). After that I was in so much pain and walking more than I was riding for a while. When we finally get to the second aid about three miles from the feed, we were distraught to learn that they too did not have any more water. I was so out of it, climbing up to that aid, I thought one of the people working it was my dad (who was at home receiving treatment). It wasn’t my dad, but a close family friend, who saw how distraught I was and offered me some of his own water to get me to the feed, even sharing some with Erik because I quote “you are Sam’s friend” :) At that point pure determination to get to the feed took over, I was so hot as well as hurt and I didn’t even know if we would make the cut off, it wasn't fast but we got there without any more stops. In the feed, I was met by my amazing mom with ice socks and about 30 minutes until the cut off, so thirty minutes to try and get me back to a place I could finish. I chugged water, ate what I could, put ice socks everywhere and even got some advice from the event staff. By some miracle, I was able to bounce back and we rolled out of the feed with ten minutes to spare with thunder booming overhead. In the last ten miles, I felt like a whole new rider, I was averaging over ten miles an hour and felt better than I had all race. Somehow, someway I was able to close a fifteen minute gap on one of my competitors, an acquaintance of mine that when I passed, I hoped she would come with us all the way to the finish. When I came out of the woods and saw my best friends/teamates waiting for me it became so real, I had actually done that, a sprint to the line and I was done.
43.5 miles, my longest ride ever. Something I never in a million years thought I would complete none the less come 17th in the nation. This race not only showed me what I could do, bounce back from stuff people say is impossible and you can take whatever life throws at you, take it in stride and become better because of it. This race was never about winning or even a top ten. It was proving to myself and the kids that I coach that you can truly do anything with a little hard work and support from the right people. This race made me so proud to be a cyclist, surrounded by kindness all around me physically moving me to the line. The biggest thank you in the world goes to my coach Erik for taking a girl, right off a winter of having no idea what she was doing, and training her up to do something this big and then sacrificing his race to ride along side me every step of the way. And my parents for believing in me even when it seemed impossible. To anyone reading this, don't let anyone tell you-you can't do it just because you're slow or have gone through something. As long as you are ok sitting in the suck and the pain you will get through it and bring it to the line everytime. This past year I have picked up a motto that I hope you carry with you- go out, be safe and have fun. Don't ever stop believing in yourself because it will all workout exactly how it needs to
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