Coming to Nationals as the reigning National Champion is its own special experience. I’ve had the opportunity to attempt to “defend” several different race titles in my career so far, and one thing I’ve learned is every time is different. The lead up is different, personal expectation is different, but one thing remains that same: everyone else acts like the only option is to win again.

Let me tell you something. I wanted to win. I wanted to win badly and I put a lot into my preparation. I did everything I could. But as a professional athlete, I do that every time I race. I expect my competitors to do the same. That’s how we get better. That’s how we push each other. That’s how we raise the bar. So yes, this race mattered, but at the same time, it’s just another race. No jersey and no title can make it any bigger. I do my best, every single time I line up. This was no exception. Putting too much pressure on predicting a single outcome will only make you lose before you even get to the line.

My race was a bit of a rollercoaster. A difficult start left me on the back foot early on. I’m human, and watching the race I dreamed of, unfolding differently before my eyes was a shock to the system. The more I tried to correct, the more challenging it got. The saying is true, “perfect is the enemy of good.” It wasn’t until I committed to good, that things started to become closer to perfect.

When I came into the first aid I was in 3^rd/4^th place. My coach yelled, “2^nd is 30 seconds up.” It snapped me out of it. I thought, “If I can make that many mistakes and still be that close, but maybe mistakes aren’t so bad.” I surrendered control and things started to click. All of a sudden, I was riding faster and with less effort and it showed. I was moving forward. I came into Aid 2 in 1^st. I was leading the race.

I’m no stranger to the front of the race, but in this instance, I think I had already lived through two different races on this day; moving from behind to the front and I started to suffer the consequences. I still had a couple more races to live through before I would hit the finish line.

I slid backwards going into 2^nd and then back into 3^rd. I was verbally saying out loud “GO!” but the body was lagging in response. It had a delayed response, and it wasn’t until 9 miles to go that it clicked back into gear. I was on a tear at that point, but it was too late. I crossed in 3^rd, feeling like I lived multiple races out there.

Of course I wanted to defend. To me, that’s a given. I don’t need to explain that. The thing I do want to emphasize is that 3^rd at Nationals is not a loss.

Years ago, I stood at the pro awards ceremony at Nationals dreaming of one day standing on that podium. I experienced one of the Pros on the podium complaining and expressing disappointment in not having won. I promised myself in that moment that if I was ever lucky enough to stand on the podium at the National Championship as a Pro that I would be grateful. So I am. Genuinely.