2025, A Year in Review - Bella Slosberg

“Unbound XL?? Should I be crazy and do 350 miles??”

In January of 2025, I wrote that note in TrainingPeaks. At that point I was a 21-year-old grad student working three jobs and skipping class far too often to spend time on two wheels. Little did I know that my identity as an athlete and goals on the bike were about to completely change after a series of events sparked by a 360-mile race through the Flint Hills of Kansas. 

Smiles after crossing the finish line Unbound XL. Photo by Caroline Dezendorf

A year, a degree, four ultra attempts, and 1,500+ race-day miles later— I sit here today thinking about the experiences and lessons that shaped 2025 and made this year packed full of learning, growth, and unforgettable moments.

Part One: Setbacks, Breakthroughs, and the Lead-up to Unbound XL

Going into Unbound… nervous was an understatement. Months prior, Sea Otter Classic was my first big race of the season and my debut into the U23 Lifetime Grand Prix series. In addition to it being my first time lining up with some of the biggest names in gravel, Sea Otter would also mark my first time meeting my new teammates. 

Having once been at the bottom of a team where your performance as an athlete dictated how you were treated as a person, I was scared and hopeful to prove that I belonged in my new jersey. However…instead of the breakout race I was hoping for, Sea Otter marked my first ever DNF. 

I was crushed, inner critic blaring, and imposter syndrome hitting hard. The emotions I felt that day were far more than just disappointment from a bad result, but also a recurring battle with self-worth issues I’ve faced for years.

Luckily, the support from my new teammates pulled me out of a dark place and reminded me that I am far more than a race result. That weekend, I was met with so much kindness and reminded how lucky we are to be part of a community that shows up for each other through highs and lows. 

Handing out coffee, making new friends, and hanging out with my teammates and incredible pals at Schwalbee, Castelli, Easton, and Fox kept me smiling all weekend.

Part Two: Decision, Realization, and Making it to the Start Line 

To stay in the running for the U23 LTGP riders were required to place at Unbound or Sea Otter. So, after the DNF at Sea Otter, I was left with a decision: do the U23 LTGP 100-mile race at Unbound or stick with the 360 and give up my spot in the Grand Prix. 

At that point I felt like I was at a crossroads between what I thought I should do, and what I truly wanted to do. Sticking with LTGP would mean exposure, additional mentorship, and a taste of the highest level of gravel racing… but it would also mean giving up on Unbound XL. 

After lots of back and forth, I made the choice to drop out of the Lifetime Series and race the XL, and I’m so glad that I did. 

A selfie taken many miles into Unbound by Tom, a new friend I made during the XL journey. At a mile 300+ aid station, we facetimed his wife and kids. They were so happy and proud of their dad. Moments like this and people like Tom are memories I’ll never forget. 

Part Three: Why The XL?

Throughout my time as a cyclist, I’ve battled with tying my worth as a person to my performance on the bike. It’s something I think a lot of athletes quietly struggle with, the unspoken belief that performance defines value. Going into 2025, I thought I had made a lot of progress in this regard, but Sea Otter made me realize that there was still a lot of healing to be done. 

Photo by Caroline Dezendorf

Pressure to perform driven by a desire to prove yourself to others rather than ride from a place of genuine passion is exactly what led me to races like the XL: spaces within the sport where meaning isn’t dictated by numbers, prize money, or comparison—but rather personal achievement, a love for the sport, and unwavering desire to be on two wheels.

At the end of the day, the most meaningful moment I’ve had on a bike wasn’t a race win but rather seeing the joy in my dad’s eyes when he finished a ride and proudly showed me his Strava map that he carefully designed to look like a critter. That joy, that pride, that pure love of riding—that’s what I chase, that’s what I hope to spread, and that’s what motivated me through each mile of the XL. 

Gearing up for a ride with my mom and dad who got into cycling this year and recently completed a 25-day bikepacking trip for their 25th wedding anniversary. Seeing their love for riding unfold has been such a gift.

Part Four: Post Race Day:

Unbound itself was a grueling and rewarding 360 miles of pain and self-reflection. A top ten finish was something to be proud of too. However, it was something else entirely separate from results that I cherished the most. 

Whether it was the strangers who came out of their home to cheer us on, the new friends I made mid-race that instantly felt family, the support from my friends and teammates, or the many, many finish line hugs… it was the people and moments of connection that reminded me how much bigger this experience was than just a finish line.

Finishline hugs captured by Caroline Dezendorf

Two days after getting home from the XL, I defended my Master’s thesis, dove into finals week, and hopped straight back into work. I was exhausted… so exhausted, but I was still riding the high.

Graduation! In 2025, I earned a MS in Environmental Sciences and Management. I graduated with distinction, and in addition to coursework and research, I had so much fun teaching classes at Cal Poly and leading a team of 12+ student researchers.

The XL stripped things down in a way few races ever have. Mile after mile, there was no one to impress or disappoint—only decisions to make, discomfort to manage, community cheering me on, and hour upon hours to reflect on why I truly ride. I’m not saying all my inner struggles magically disappeared, but somewhere in the Flint Hills, many of my worries were left behind. 

That mindset didn’t end at the finish line. It followed me home, into the classroom, into work, and into the way I thought about my goals moving forward. I still care about and am driven by performance and pushing my limits but I’m being better at reminding myself that those things don’t have to come at the expense of joy, curiosity, and my self-worth when things don’t go to plan.

Part Five: Ultra #2, Gravel Worlds

Looking back at my season, it was in no way linear, rather a series of high highs and low lows. After Unbound, I felt like I had found my niche and signed up for Ultra #2: Gravel Worlds Long Voyage. 

Unbound proved that I could do it and find so much joy in the process. I could take on and finish 300+ mile races and love it so much. Going into Ultra #2, I told myself that because I had done it once, I could do it again… and this time I wanted to win. 

Between Unbound in May and Gravel Worlds in August, there were some big life changes. I moved from the home I had lived in for the past four years and ditched two of my three part-time jobs for my first ever 9-5 “big girl” at a local environmental non-profit. I was still finishing up the last of grad school too. It was an adjustment, to say the least, and the stress from navigating a new chapter, combined with the stress from training, took its toll.

Similar to leading up to Sea Otter, I got sick a few weeks before race day and was off the bike for more than a week. On race day, I was still battling symptoms but I was determined to still try despite knowing that I wasn’t at 100%. At the race, I went out with the intention to win when I should have gone into it with the intention to do the best I could realistically in the state I was in. 

Gravel Worlds marked my second ever DNF… and the comedown was hard. I thought I could do it… and failing to succeed felt like a slap in the face. It felt like moving backwards after all the soul searching and growth at Unbound.

While Gravel Worlds was tough, not everything about the weekend was defined by disappointment. Watching my dad finish his first ever gravel race was such a special moment and I was so proud.

Part Six: DNF Depression

The months after Gravel Worlds, I refer to as the “DNF depression” portion of my season. If it wasn’t for additional outside factors, I don’t think it would have hit so hard. But having been struggling to adjust to my new living situation and job, and then the disappointment of Gravel Worlds, I felt like I had lost my footing both on and off the bike. 

Following Gravel Worlds, my relationship with riding felt fragile. I was riding, but without much direction—still processing disappointment and learning how to be gentle with myself while everything else in life felt hard and unsteady.

Bike prep captured by Lezyne

A few weeks later, my team managers asked to chat. With only a few podiums and more than a handful of disappointing races, I found myself bracing for the worst. Not because my team had ever given me a reason to think they would be upset—quite the opposite, actually, but because old wounds have a way of resurfacing. 

My team had shown me nothing but kindness, support, and grace all year. But in the back of my mind, I still remembered the shame and fear I felt many years ago back on an old team where “showing up” meant winning and winning was all that mattered. 

Part Seven: Redefining What It Means To Show Up

I didn’t realize how much I needed our conversation until it happened.

They weren’t mad. They were grounded, thoughtful, and supportive just as they’d been all year. They told me that there are many ways to show up as an athlete, and they helped me realize that doing what I enjoy most—connecting with people, telling stories, uplifting others, and contributing to the community—is also showing up. And more than that, it’s something worth embracing. 

Part Eight: Coaching, Connection, and Coming Back

A few weeks later, I was coaching at Special Blend Gravel Fall Camp. As a coach, I got to help riders build confidence, improve their skills, and experience the joys of the cycling community. At Fall Camp I felt so incredibly happy and so at home.

Fall Camp group photo by Wil Matthews

Fall camp also marked the launch of my “Let’s Tell Your Story” initiative fueled by the idea that everyone has a story worth telling. By sharing these stories, my hope is that we can celebrate the diversity of experiences in cycling, encourage others, and highlight the strength of this community. At camp, I interviewed seven incredible women. Keep an eye out for their stories in 2026. 

Interacting with so many great women and hearing their stories not only inspired me, but also helped me extend the grace I give others to myself. 

Part Nine: Wrapping up The Race Season With a Final Ultra. 

On November 1st, I took on one last ultra to finish up the season. Going in, I wasn’t sure what I could do, but I was committed to setting expectations aside, finding joy, and riding for the right reasons. 

After about 26 hours on the bike, I finished the 300+ mile course, beating the previous women’s FKT and tying for second with my new and dear friend.

Mid race refuel with Robb and Hannah. After helping me up after a tumble around mile 150, we stuck together to the very end. I couldn’t be more thankful for their company and kindness. 

As with most things, this adventure became an unforgettable memory due to the kindness and support of an incredible community. From the sweet family who answered my Facebook Marketplace post for a place to stay in Stillwater, to new friends who helped me up after a tumble and stuck with me through the highs and lows — Mega Mid South was yet another reminder that it’s the people who make the effort possible and give the effort meaning. 

Part Ten: Reflecting and Looking Ahead

Going into the new year, I have big plans in terms of races, but I also have the understanding that a lack of success (especially for ultras) does not automatically equal failure. Showing up and having the courage to start is something worth being proud of as well.

2025 was full of learning, unlearning, and finding alignment again. Looking back, this year taught me how to show up with intention, stay connected to what I love about the sport, and trust that growth can still be happening—even when it doesn’t look the way I once thought it would.

Marking my first time as a supported rider, this season has been filled with new experiences, growth, and so much self-discovery. There have been countless lessons learned and life-changing experiences that I cannot thank my team for enough. 

This year taught me so much and reminded me that I find the most joy and purpose when I’m connecting with others, uplifting those around me, and sharing the deeper meaning of cycling beyond just results. I’m excited to chase big things and carry this momentum and community focus forward into 2026. 

Photo by Lezyne