The View From 103rd
I finished 103rd at the ILCA 6 Women’s World Championship. There it is.
Not the result I dreamed about when I got the invitation to Worlds. Not the result I was training for when I started this whole crazy thing. And certainly not a number I’m going to dress up and pretend means something it doesn’t.
I wish I had been better prepared.
The truth is, I spent most of the last two months before Worlds racing injured, and then stopped sailing almost entirely so I could rehab enough to get here at all. Instead of the final training block I imagined, I was doing PT and Pilates, trying to get my body back to a place where I could safely race a World Championship. That matters. But it isn’t an excuse.
Because I got here. And once I did, Worlds showed me exactly where I am.
It showed me how much faster these women are. How physical this level of sailing is. How much more work I need in big breeze, in waves, in boat handling and in putting together an entire race when the margins are incredibly small.
But the work is working.
Worlds also showed me that the things I’ve been deliberately working on are getting better. I had some of the best starts I’ve had since coming back to the boat. Starts have been a huge focus for me this year, and I could feel the difference.
And then, on the second-to-last day, something happened that won’t ever appear on the final results sheet. In a light-air race, I rounded the first mark in 10th. Then I rounded the second mark still in 10th. Light air has traditionally been one of my biggest weaknesses, and I’ve worked hard on it.
I was holding 10th at a World Championship. And then the wind died and the race committee abandoned the race. Poof. Gone. It never happened, at least as far as the scorecard is concerned.
But I know it happened. And that matters to me. Because progress doesn’t always show up in the final result.
These photos make it look like big breeze is my thing. Reader, it is not. 😂 Losing 94 pounds has changed a LOT about how I sail an ILCA. Light air, historically one of my biggest weaknesses, is starting to click. At Worlds, I had an abandoned race where I rounded the first two marks in 10th.
Big breeze? Different story. When it’s blowing, weight is leverage. And there is simply 94 pounds less of me to put over the side than there was two years ago.
Worlds gave us plenty of opportunities to see exactly what that means. Some days we were racing in serious breeze and waves, fully hiked, vang on, trying to keep the boat underneath me while some of the best women in the world absolutely sent it.
It exposed a weakness. Good. Because that’s exactly what my coach Christian keeps saying this trip was for, data collection. Find the gaps. Figure out what’s working. Then train the gaps one by one.
I don't want 94 pounds back. 😂 I want to learn how to make THIS body stronger, faster and better at sailing an ILCA in 20+ knots. So that's going on the list.
Then came the day I had to be rescued.
There were moments this week that were humbling as hell. And there was one that was genuinely scary.
In 22–30 knots, I death rolled on the final downwind and hit my head. What followed was a series of violent capsizes as I tried over and over to get the boat upright. At one point I was riding the daggerboard through a complete flip, ending up back in the water and trying again. Eventually, I couldn’t do it anymore.
For the first time in 34 years of sailing, my number was called into the race committee because I couldn’t finish a race. And I had to be rescued from the water.
I came away with a mild concussion, a visible mark from the impact and bruises all over my body. This wasn’t a little knock or a bad race that I decided to abandon. I had reached the point where I physically could not get myself and the boat safely back under control. That one hit me hard, in more ways than one. But it wasn't the end of my Worlds.
I went back out. And then something changed. This is the part of the results sheet that I keep coming back to. Before that day, my completed finishes were 52, 53 and 52. After it? 47, 43, 48, 46, 46, 46.
I’m seeing progress. Not the kind that makes for a miraculous movie ending. The slower, less glamorous kind. The kind where you get a little stronger, figure out one more piece, make fewer mistakes, and move a few boats farther up the fleet. The kind you can build on.
I came to Ireland knowing this was going to be hard. I’m leaving knowing much more specifically why it’s hard, where the gaps are, and what I need to do next. And maybe most importantly, I’m leaving still wanting it.
I’m not done.
Five American women earned invitations to the 2026 ILCA 6 Women’s World Championship based on our rankings, and I’m still pretty damn thrilled that I was one of them. 🇺🇸
Bundled up on the pier before racing: Christina Sakkelaris, Erika Reineke (Paris 2024 Olympian), me, Charlotte Rose (now 2026 World Champion 🏆), and Deniz Cirivello.
I finished fourth among the five Americans. And getting to line up at a World Championship alongside women of this caliber, including watching one of our own win the whole damn thing, was pretty special.
Proud to have earned my spot here. Proud to represent the USA. And leaving with a very clear picture of the work ahead. 🇺🇸⛵️
The mountain between where I am today and where I want to be is tall. Worlds made that abundantly clear. But tall isn’t the same thing as impossible. You don’t scale a mountain by standing at the bottom staring at the summit and wondering how you're ever going to get there. You take the next step. Then the next one. Then the next one.
Two years ago, getting back into an ILCA was a step.
Losing 94 pounds was a step.
Getting strong enough to race again after surgery was a step.
Showing up at regattas where I knew I would get my ass handed to me was a step.
Learning to get off the starting line with some of the best sailors in the world was a step.
Finding myself in 10th place in a condition I once dreaded was a step.
Rehabbing an injury instead of pretending it wasn’t there was a step.
Coming to Ireland was a very big step.
And getting back on the racecourse after being pulled from the water was another one.
So no, 103rd isn’t where I want to be. But I’m not embarrassed by it either. I earned every one of those finishes. I learned from every race. And I now have a much clearer picture of the sailor I need to become.
There is work to do. Good. I know how to do that. One step at a time.
