The Catalyst: A Humbling Return in Trinidad & Tobago

For nearly two years, my identity as a Team USA athlete had been on pause. I was focused on finishing my computer science degree, training hard, but disconnected from the international racing circuit I had once been a part of. Then, a message on WhatsApp from head coach Erin Hartwell. The ask: rejoin the team in Trinidad & Tobago for a UCI race. The timeline: two weeks.

The news was a jolt of excitement mixed with deep apprehension. I was living and training in Bromont, Canada, and still nursing the lingering effects of injuries that had plagued me for the past two months. But a call-up to represent your country is one you don't refuse.

When I met up with the team, the feeling of being an outsider was immediate. My last project with them was at the World Championships back in October 2022. Now, there were new faces, new dynamics, and I was the guy from the East Coast who just dropped in for camps. Being in an unfamiliar country for the first time only amplified my feeling of being reserved and disconnected.

The first day of racing was a brutal reality check. I performed significantly below my own expectations, posting a time in the sprint qualifier that I hadn't seen in two years. I was deeply disappointed, especially seeing the gap between myself and my two teammates. The only strange silver lining was that I still managed to land on the podium as part of an all-American sweep. Standing there with my teammates felt good, but it was overshadowed by the frustration of my own performance.

USA Men Sweep Sprint Podium

The following day was even worse. I came down with a nasty case of food poisoning. It was a harsh reminder of the invisible challenges of international travel, where an unfamiliar pathogen can derail months of preparation in an instant. I raced the Keirin fully sick, finishing sixth in the process, but I was so dehydrated and weak that I was just a ghost on the bike. I had to pull out of the final day of competition.

But in the midst of the physical misery, something shifted. As I was recovering, I was fortunate to connect with a new "auntie" who felt like family who offered a profound sense of perspective and kindness. The sickness and disappointment were still there, but they were juxtaposed by this new connection and the quiet beauty of the Trinidadian landscape. It was a moment of clarity: the physical illness was temporary, but the frustration with my performance was a signal I could not ignore.

View from Trinidad

I left Trinidad having truly reconnected with the team, the outsider feeling replaced by a renewed sense of belonging. But I also left with a sober and frustrating realization. The performance gap between me and the other guys on the team was real, and it had grown while I was away.

If I wanted to be a true contender for LA 2028, I couldn't afford to be the guy who just dropped in and out anymore. I couldn't afford to fall further behind. I knew, with absolute certainty, that I had to make a big move…