Competing in the XTERRA World Championships is a dream for many triathletes. After months of focused training and preparation, I was ready to leave everything on the course. But as I experienced firsthand, no amount of planning can guarantee how race day will unfold. In this post, I take you through the intense lead-up to the race, the unexpected turn of events, and how I’m processing the aftermath.
Preparing for Race Day
A great race doesn't just happen; it requires dedicated training and careful planning.
After a busy August racing in Europe, I threw myself into a 6-week training block that was laser-focused on the XTERRA World Championships. Having raced in Molveno in 2023, I knew exactly what the course demanded—grueling climbs, relentless terrain, and unpredictable weather. My training schedule was filled with hill repeats, long endurance rides, and strength work. Every single session had a purpose, driven by the desire to improve on my 21st-place finish from last year.
The Build-Up
We arrived in Italy 10 days before race day, giving me time to acclimatise to the altitude and mentally prepare. I spent hours meticulously studying and riding the course, getting a feel for every climb and descent. The sun was shining, the trails were dry, and everything felt perfect—almost too perfect. But as race day approached, the familiar, torrential rain arrived, transforming the once fast trails into a slippery mud bath.
Another concern leading into the race was the temperature of the lake, it was hovering around 15C and there was a real risk of the swim being cancelled due to the cold air and water temperature. I tried to block this from my mind and just hoped that we would get a full triathlon and not a duathlon (run-bike-run).
The course was muddy, the lake was freezing, the air temperature was cold - not a problem.
Mud tyres on
Neoprene hat & gloves at the ready
I had it all in place and everything pointed towards a strong performance.
Race Day: Full of Promise
The morning of the race was cold. As a bitter wind howled through the mountains my priority was to stay as warm as possible before the race.
The venue was alive with a nervous buzz as we meticulously prepared our equipment in the transition area. Bike racked, final clothing choices decided upon, we waited anxiously for the decision on the swim.
At 9am, one hour before the start, it was announced that the swim would be reduced from 1500m to 750m, not ideal for me but at least it wasn't a duathlon.
With the uncertainty of the race format resolved I cleared my mind and focused on the day ahead.
Standing on the shore of Lake Molveno, I felt a surge of adrenaline. The atmosphere was electric, with some of the world’s best XTERRA triathletes beside me. This was my moment. After months of preparation, I was ready to leave everything on the course and show the progress I had worked so hard to achieve.
The Race Start: Lets Go
The start of the swim was hectic as always, arms, legs, flying everywhere as we jostled for position. My strategy was to start hard, 50 strokes strong then settle into a sustainable rhythm. Despite a good run in, the pack quickly swam away from me and I was unable to bridge across. I don't know what it is but this year I have been really struggling with my swimming and this race was set to be my worst swim performance yet. I couldn't find my flow, my technique was all over the place and I was just having a nightmare.
Deal with it.
It's a long day.
Anything can happen.
A Sudden End
Exiting transition, I was mid-pack, surrounded by two other riders. We navigated the wooden XTERRA bridges, adrenaline still high, before powering onto the first gravel track. I focused on keeping my line, feeling the race finally starting to open up.
And then, in an instant, everything changed.
Just 500m into the course, on a narrow section of the gravel path next to the lake, the rider from behind attempted an overtake. I felt it coming but there wasn't enough room for two, I had nowhere to go. The next moment her handlebars came crashing into mine, and I was flying over the top before skidding across the gravel. It was a blur of shock and pain.
I knew right away it wasn't good. My arm had a deep cut, and after being helped off the course, I was taken to the medical tent, where I ended up with stitches.
My race was over.
Processing the Heartbreak
It’s hard to put into words how it felt in that moment.
Months of preparation, travel, and sacrifice—all undone in a single moment. The word 'devastated' doesn't even scratch the surface of what I felt. There was an overwhelming sense of helplessness, knowing I’d never get the chance to show what I was truly capable of on that course.
Gratitude: The Support Team Behind Me
Through the disappointment, I’m immensely grateful for the people who have supported me this season—my sponsors, my coach, my family, and friends. They’ve been there through all the highs and lows, and I know they were just as hopeful as I was for a different outcome. I’m sorry we didn’t get the finish we all hoped for, but your belief in me keeps me going.
Looking Ahead: Coming Back Stronger
While this wasn’t the way I envisioned ending the season, I know I’ll come back stronger. This race may not have gone as planned, but the work I’ve put in this year is still there. I’ll take the lessons learned, heal up, and continue to push toward my goals. The dream isn’t over—if anything, this setback only fuels my determination to get back out there and fight even harder next time.
Conclusion: The Journey Continues
Racing at the elite level comes with its share of highs and lows, and this experience has certainly tested me. But this journey is far from over, and I’m already looking ahead to what’s next. For now, I’ll focus on recovery and come back with renewed strength and hunger for the 2025 season.
Stay tuned—this is just a chapter, not the end of the story....
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