April 5th marked something big: my first Grand Prix race back with Whirlaway after more than ten years away. To be honest, I wasn’t just showing up to a 15K—I was stepping back into a world that had once felt like home, but now felt both familiar and foreign. The race atmosphere at a GP event hits differently, and I’d forgotten just how much. The buzz, the team, the old faces, the fast legs—it brought back a flood of emotions.
I had a plan for this day. After everything—surgeries, setbacks, and slow rebuilds—I wasn’t there to prove anything. I just wanted to run smart: go out slow, find a rhythm, and finish strong. Nothing fancy. I even tucked myself back in the middle of the pack at the start to make sure I stuck to that strategy.
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