I just finished my most successful racing season yet — at 8 months pregnant

I’m 8.5 months pregnant. The baby is due in just four weeks, and this gravel season has been my most successful yet. Not because of podiums or finish lines, but because of the impact it made off the course. In my racing career, I’ve podiumed BWR CA three times, finished 8th at Unbound, won the Gravel Worlds double, gone sub-9 hours at Leadville, and competed in the Lifetime Grand Prix twice. But 2025 stood out because it meant something more.

My goals as a professional athlete have always been to push myself, share the ups and downs, and try to make the sport a better place. This year, I had the unique opportunity to show what a season could look like as a professional gravel racer who also wants to start a family. And the reception was overwhelmingly positive.

When I found out I was pregnant in December, my first thought was “oh sh*t. That means I’ll be pregnant the entire season.” I didn’t know what that would mean for racing, for my brand partnerships or for how the cycling community would respond. I was overjoyed about something I’d dreamed of my whole life, but that joy was layered with uncertainty. How do you show up as a professional athlete when your body is changing, your future feels unclear, and there’s no real roadmap?

For me, the answer was to keep showing up—one start line at a time. I ended up racing five times with my daughter on board:

• BWR AZ: 4 months pregnant, 104 miles, 8,000ft of climbing, 9^th place.
• Sea Otter Gravel: 6 months pregnant, 89 miles, 10,000ft, 52^nd place.
• Levi’s Gran: 6 months pregnant, 120 miles, 10,500ft, 1^st amateur woman (but was signed up for the pro race so it didn’t count)
• Unbound 50: 7 months pregnant, 55 miles. 1,800ft, 1^st place.
• SBT Green: 8 months pregnant, 37 miles, 2,300ft, raced with my mom for her first bike race.

Racing this season wasn’t about trying to be better or faster than my non-pregnant competitors. It was about setting an example for what it could look like to be a pregnant professional athlete. How do you inspire others? How do you prove your value to your sponsors? How do you break down some of the pre-conceived notions about what a pregnant person is capable of? And how do you do all of that while putting your baby’s safety first?

As women, our prime childbearing years overlap with our peak athletic years. And that overlap often forces women to choose between her career or family. I wanted to show that one can do both, and if even one woman sees my story and feels like she, too, can start a family without giving up her career—that’s more meaningful than any podium.

Pre-race nerves were different this year. It wasn’t until the night after SBT, my final race, that I realised just how much anxiety I had about racing safely. Even though the response has been overwhelmingly positive, the few negative comments tend to stick in your head. And when you choose to do something in the public eye, the pressure shifts; it’s no longer just about your own experience. Everyone is watching, ready to critique.

As a professional athlete, the pressure is usually about results: Did you make the split? Did you get dropped on the climb? But as a pregnant athlete, the pressure becomes about staying safe.

You can minimise risks, ride in control, but at the end of the day, you can’t control the other people around you. If something happens, even if it’s not your fault, people will say, “She shouldn’t have been out there.” And you’re left to carry the weight of that judgment, along with your own fear and guilt.

As the season progressed, I listened to my body, consulted my doctor and reserved the right to not do a race if I felt uncomfortable. At the start of every race, I promised myself (and my husband) I would stop if I ever felt unsafe.

At 7 months pregnant, I didn’t plan on winning the Unbound 50. But once the race started, I realised I’d be safer near the front... and then suddenly, I was in the front group. I hung with them until the first minimum maintenance road (which I knew from pre-riding was going to be technical). I let the group go, picked my own lines, walked the river crossing and from there just rode my own pace. My lungs were being squished by a coconut-sized baby, but my fitness still was pretty good and the extra blood volume didn’t hurt!

This season gave me opportunities I would have never had otherwise. After three years of trying to convince my mom to do a gravel race, we finally did one together. SBT GRVL was her first bike race ever and my final race at 8 months pregnant. 2.5 generations lining up together. 67 years, 34 years and negative 6 weeks old. If I hadn’t been pregnant, I probably would’ve been in the pro race, and we would have had completely separate experiences.

When I crossed the finish line of my final race, I felt a sense of relief as well as accomplishment. Looking back on this season, I never would have expected the response to be so overwhelmingly positive.

Sure, there will always be critics (I’m sure this article will get its fair share of “too risky” comments), but I’m proud of the story I was able to tell this year.

Every one of my brand partners—Scott, Shimano, CamelBak, Zico Coconut, CarbsFuel, Garmin, Vittoria—was 100% supportive. In a landscape where even elite athletes like Allyson Felix had to fight for that kind of backing, having my sponsors on board is a win in itself. I wanted to make my future daughter proud, and maybe even break down a few barriers so her path is just a little bit easier.

I’ve been lucky in that, except for my first trimester, this pregnancy has been relatively smooth. That said, I think it’s really important to acknowledge that every pregnancy is different. And I’d never want anyone to feel pressure if they can’t, or don’t want to, race at 8 months pregnant. Every journey is unique. At the end of the day, it’s your body growing a child, and only you know what’s right. Some days, all I can do is lie on the couch. But even then, I was growing a baby human. And that’s cooler than any race result I’ve ever had.

I am only one example. My story is not how it should look, but how it could look. The more examples we have, the better off our sport will be. As I look forward to what my next chapter looks like, I have no idea how my body will respond or rebound after having a baby. My plan is to approach it in a similar way I did with pregnancy. Acknowledge this is something totally new, share the ups and downs along the way and see what my body can do! I can’t wait. Bring it on.