Everything to gain.
An Elite US National Road Title and embracing the gifts of uncertainty.
Mantra: Everything to gain.
Did you know that if you shuffle a 52 card deck properly, the exact sequence of cards that results has likely never occurred in all of human history? And will likely never occur again?
When I learned this fact I couldn’t believe it. But the math checks out. There are 8.0658 x 10 to the 67th power combinations possible. That’s a big number. How big? According to Chat GPT, that number is billions of times larger than the total number of atoms on earth. The probability of getting the same exact order twice approaches zero.
To me, it is the perfect analogy for a bike race. You shuffle the deck and the cards never fall in quite the same way. We can learn patterns, improve the way we play our cards and, to a certain degree, stack the deck in our favor with good fitness and tactics. But when you get to the start line, the shuffle begins.
Yesterday, this uncertainty felt more palpable than ever as I lined up for my first US Road National Championships. With so many unknown variables - from team tactics to race dynamics - I had no choice but to surrender any desire for things to unfold in accordance with specific expectations. I had none.
Instead, I had to be willing to jump into the shuffle and commit to my hand. And with learning and experience as my goal I simply had no downside. I had everything to gain.
From the start, I felt calm and engaged. I positioned near the front of the bunch and stayed alert to any moves that might go early. My strongest rival had a team of 6 and, while I didn’t know the exact scenario that might lead to a win, I knew the one I wanted to avoid - a breakaway with one of her riders and a long chase for me if I wanted a shot at the win.
And then I watched it happen.
Paige Onweller made a brave move off the front at the end of the second lap. I know she is a very strong time trialist and another unknown on the road as she primarily focuses on gravel, and while a move like this is unlikely to stick, it was certainly not impossible.
A lap later, as I was boxed in on the inside, Lauren’s teammate Jamie Chapman made a smart move and began to bridge. Oops. If those two work together, I thought, I was in a bit of a tough spot.
But in that moment, the freedom from expectations paid dividends. All I could do was play the game as it was unfolding, not as I might have wanted it to unfold in my mind. I stayed calm, ate and drank and waited. I accepted where I was and committed fully to the very next step.
As we entered the third to last lap, the gap to Paige reached almost 4 minutes and I knew if we didn’t start pulling back time, we would run out of opportunities to do so.
“You guys need to go,” said my director Rachel Hedderman in the radio, “Take a deep breath. It’s all in on this climb.”
I already had the feeling I needed to be ready, that it was time to go. But when I heard it from Rachel, I was one hundred percent committed. I believed fully in every pedal stroke. And as I pushed the pace, the gap started to come down quickly.
By the time we crossed the finish line again, it was just over a minute - and I headed into the last lap ready to fight to the line. By the top of the first climb, Lauren and I were alone. And by the time we reached the final ascent, we were back on Paige’s wheel.
There was everything to play for again.
The next fifteen minutes played out in slow motion. One attack and then the next. A chase group just behind. And a rapidly approaching finish line.
We approached the finish and the radio went quiet.
No one could tell me how to play this final, I had to trust my instincts as a racer and commit fully to the plan I thought could get me across the line first.
I noticed on the lap prior that I had been carrying a bit more speed out of corners on the chunky pavement leading into the finish. And as we rounded the second to last bend, I saw the opportunity.
Before I had time to think, I went.
If I could get a few bike lengths and commit to every single pedal stroke, I knew it would be hard for Lauren to catch me. I focused forward on the approaching finish line and as I looked over my should I could hardly believe it.
I was the new US Champion on the road. I would pull on the Stars and Stripes jersey for only the third time in my elite career - and this time in an entirely new discipline.
I’ve raced National Championships events on the mountain bike more times than I could count and I have both won and lost in the battle for the Stars and Stripes jersey. At times, I struggled with the unique pressure of this race, with the feeling that there was an expectation for my result and that anything less than a win would be a disappointment not just to the people around me, but to myself.
The gift of my spring of radical experimentation has been freedom from expectation. I raced entirely free, in the moment and with the joy and tenacity that doesn’t just make me the type of racer I want to be, but the type of person I want to be when I cross the finish line.
I had nothing to lose, but what I gained in the process goes beyond any result or jersey. I gained the freedom that comes from knowing that no matter how the deck is shuffled, I have everything I need to play my cards in a way that makes me proud.
That is where belief comes from. Not from certainty. Not from knowing how the cards will fall. But from trusting yourself to meet whatever uncertain hand you're dealt with curiosity, courage, and commitment.
The deck will likely never shuffle in this exact way again. That is almost certain, figuratively and mathematically. And that is exactly what makes this race worth celebrating for what it was.
But there is another certainty this race gave me.
No matter how the cards fall, when you are willing to show up, commit fully, and play the game with curiosity rather than fear, you have nothing to lose.
In fact, you have everything to gain.
Message: find the spark…
Musing: do the hard thing…
We are rarely proud of ourselves for the things that were easy. We are proud of the things that required courage. What would you attempt if you knew the effort itself was worth being proud of, regardless of the outcome?
Go Kate Go! Incredible! I'm a 63 year old endurance athlete, you continue to inspire me, such a thoughtful bad ass.
Legend!!