Sea Otter Classic: Riding My Race, My Way

When I signed up for Sea Otter Classic, I wasn’t sure what kind of rider would show up. I hadn’t trained the way I planned, but I knew I wanted to try. So I packed up my bike, a stylish kit I felt great in, and headed to California with one goal: show up and see what happened.

The weekend started with a shakeout ride along the 17-Mile Scenic Byway. Amy and I had a bit of a bumpy start with some friends, but eventually peeled off and just did our own thing. The sun was setting, the roads were quiet, and it was one of those rare moments where everything felt exactly right. The kind of ride that takes all the nerves out of your body and reminds you why you're there in the  first place.

Starting the race with a friend was everything. When you’ve got someone to help manage logistics, laugh with at the start line, and debrief with at the end, it all feels lighter—even if you’re racing your own race. I thought about Amy a lot while I was riding, wondering how she was doing out there. Knowing she was out on course too made it feel less lonely and more shared.

And as for the race itself? I had fun. I learned. I challenged myself. I wasn’t fully prepared, but I showed up anyway—and that felt like a win.

One of the most important lessons I took away was about nutrition. I programmed my Wahoo to remind me when to eat and drink, and it worked. I felt good the entire race. I also surprised myself by what I could actually do. It’s wild how much stronger we are than we give ourselves credit for.

The course was stunning—seriously, every direction looked like a postcard. But the final climb, Lookout Ridge, was a beast. Two miles, 5–20% gradient, hike-a-bike chaos. I made it through once, but I knew I didn’t need to do it again.

Even though I had more in the tank, I made the call to stop after one lap. I reminded myself I’d already done the hard thing—I’d shown up, ridden well, and had nothing to prove. And honestly, if I’d pushed through that second lap, I probably would’ve left feeling wrecked. Instead, I crossed the finish line proud, excited, and ready to hit the expo and soak it all in.

Let’s be real: part of my race prep is always picking the kit. I wore my Pas Normal Essential jersey and bibs in “Cassiopeia Green” (okay, they call it dark petroleum), my QUOC Gran Tourer XC shoes in Moss Green, and my Sweet Protection Falconer Aero 2Vi helmet. Several people complimented my kit mid-race—which always feels good. For me, “sweat with swagger” means giving yourself that little lift when you go do something hard. When I feel like I look the part, it’s easier to silence the imposter syndrome. And I just love expressing myself through style—it’s part of what makes cycling fun.

Since coming home, I haven’t had much time to ride—retail season is in full swing—but I’m still riding the high of doing something hard and walking away with energy to keep going. I’ve got the Big Horn Road Race on my radar for fall, and we’re launching a really cool program with Pinarello to get more women from Boulder to the start line. I plan to be one of them.

More on that soon—but for now, I’m just grateful I went, I rode, and I got to do it all with people I love. Sometimes, one lap is exactly enough.