It’s been a few months since my Skimo season ended, and it’s taken me all this time to truly absorb the incredible experiences of the past year. Only now, as things have slowed down, can I begin to reflect on everything that’s unfolded — the races, the places, the people, and the quiet moments in between.
This journey began 18 months ago when I signed on with high-performance coach Emilio Corbex. At the time, I had no idea just how much of an impact he would have. Over the months, Emilio became so much more than a coach — he became a mentor, a mirror, a steady voice when life got loud. He was the one constant when everything else felt like shifting ground.
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| Emilio |
Emilio taught me how to believe — not just in the results or the process, but in myself. He coached with humor, warmth, and an unwavering sense of respect. Through that, he gave me something rare: the confidence to compete at the highest level, and to actually feel like I belonged there.
Our conversations were always honest. His belief in me never wavered, even when I doubted myself. In his eyes, my worth was never up for negotiation — and from that, I learned to trust my strengths, and face my weaknesses without fear. Through Emilio, I was welcomed into the orbit of the French national team. I made friends with their athletes and coaches, heard my name shouted in French along race courses, and even joined Emilie Harrop for a training session in her hometown of Bozel.
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| spending time with Emilie |
At this level, it’s so easy to feel like an outsider. But I never did this season. The best in the world made space for me — celebrated my strong races, supported me when things didn’t go to plan. As long as the Netherlands isn’t threatening their medals, I’ll remain France's biggest fan heading into Cortina and beyond.
Together with my Dutch teammate Jens, we set out on a path that many called unrealistic: to try and qualify for the Olympics through the mixed relay.
To do that, we had to race every Mixed Relay event at the World Cup level. And since we were already there, we competed in every discipline Skimo has to offer — 4-minute Sprints, 25-minute Verticals, 2-hour Individuals, 3- to 4-hour Team races, and for me, the long-distance World Championships at La Mezzalama, which took 10 hours to complete
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| Racing the Mezzalama with Ivona |
We knew from the start it was a long shot. I was working full-time; Jens was finishing his master’s degree while holding down a job. Our national budget covered only a few races. Everything else — travel, gear, accommodation — came from our own pockets. I haven’t added it all up, but I suspect we each spent close to €15,000, even with the support from our federation and sponsors like Dynafit.
Still, we showed up — always with as smile.
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| representing the Netherlands with pride |
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| The first ever female Dutch women team to race at the World Champs with Annelous |
From early December in Courchevel, we travelled to Andorra, Spain, Italy (Bormio and Val Martello), and Switzerland (Morgins and Villars). In between, we competed in the Dutch National Championships in Switzerland, where we both took home titles in the Vertical and Individual, also counting toward the Swiss Cup where we both had strong performances where I finished just off the podium in 4th place and Jens in the top 10.
For some of the other races — the World Championships, the World Cups in Val Martello and Courchevel — we were joined by fellow Dutch athletes. And no matter where we were, we always had one constant: a team captain by our side.
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| Winning two national titles in Switzerland |
Looking back on what Jens and I accomplished together fills me with pride.
We started as near-strangers and ended up spending an extraordinary amount of time together in a high-pressure environment — training, travelling, racing, recovering. We shared joy and laughter, frustration and fatigue, and even tears when things didn’t go as hoped.
And yet, through it all, not a single harsh word passed between us. Not once. That kind of respect and mutual support is rare. Jens was the best teammate I could’ve hoped for — supportive, grounded, and always ready with a calm perspective. It’s that bond I’ll remember more than any result.
He’s twenty years younger than me, but together we carved out a space for future Dutch Skimo athletes who dare to dream — who have strong legs, a big heart, and lungs that don’t quit. With two newspaper features and a short film made, we hope we’ve given our sport a moment in the spotlight back home.
There are stories we’ll be telling for years.
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| Jens, Cees and I at the opening ceremony of the world chamionships |
Like the flat tire on our rental car in the middle of nowhere in the Spanish Pyrenees. Or my car breaking down on the way to the Individual race in Val Martello — having to leave it on the side of the road and run to the start line. Or the strangers in tiny mountain towns who helped fix our broken vehicles with quiet generosity.
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| I could not have asked for a better team mate in Jens |
We faced our fair share of race-day chaos too — equipment failures, penalties, rookie mistakes. A nosebleed that wouldn’t stop during the Mixed Relay warm-up in Spain. A gut-wrenching penalty in Bormio for not carrying my passport. The kind of moments that test your resilience — and teach you fast.
Through it all, Jens kept things simple: “It is what it is.” And when he felt he’d let me down, it never even occurred to me to agree. We were both doing everything we could — showing up, over and over again, even when it would’ve been easier not to.
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| waiting at the start for the time trial in the Sprint and Mixed Relay is always nerve wrecking |
During the World Championships in Morgins, my personal life fell apart. One sharp act of betrayal knocked everything sideways. I won’t share the details here — not because they don’t matter, but because I refuse to be defined by them.
I had a choice. And I chose to finish what I started with Jens.
We raced five times in 6 days. We pushed through the fog. We came close to making the final in the Mixed Relay and finished just outside the top 35. I had my fastest Vertical ever — 28 minutes over 500m. And despite being emotionally wrecked, I delivered a strong Individual performance on a course that didn’t play to my strengths.
I was exhausted. But I kept fighting.
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| To be in the mid pack at world class level is something I never thought possible |
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| sharing start lines with worlds best |
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This year, I arrived on empty. I was living out of my little Fiat Panda with my dog Mac and my most essential belongings. Still working remotely, still juggling logistics and costs with the help of friends who generously offered accommodation and support.
I was tired. Jens was away for exams and would join me later in the week for the mixed relay. I wasn’t sure I could do it.
Then Benthe — the girlfriend of another athlete — put her arm around me before the race. I’m not usually one for hugs from people I don’t know well, but I let her in.
“Do this for you,” she said. “Go out there and race the best you can.”
On the way to the start, my car broke down. Maybe this is a sign, I thought. But there was no time to think. I ran to the start and raced.
And something happened. I backed myself. I started fast, held pace, made no mistakes. For the first time ever, I felt like I belonged at this level. I finished 18th on one of the most technical courses on the circuit — with the top 10 just within reach.
I still don’t fully understand how I did it. But I know this much: it was the belief of those around me — including Emilio, Jens, and my closest friends — that carried me there.
By the time we reached the final World Cup in Villars, I felt ready to let go. To breathe. To start rebuilding the pieces of my life.
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| Time to breathe in the mountains and recharge my body and soul |
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| Moving closer to Chamonix became the silver lining |
And yet, somehow, Jens and I delivered our cleanest performances — no mistakes, no drama. Just quiet focus, and honest effort. That, in the end, is what makes the difference at this level.
From December to April, we raced almost every weekend. We managed personal challenges, full-time jobs, university deadlines, and uncertainty on every front. And we never stopped showing up.
This season taught me more than I ever imagined — about commitment, resilience, friendship, and grace under pressure.
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| Our team captain Alke and fellow athlete Paul training on Saasfee glacier |
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| My Dutch fellow team mates have become like family over the years |
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| cherished friendship with Ivona formed on World Cup startlines |
It reminded me that chasing big dreams — even wild, unlikely ones — is always worth it. That when things fall apart, there’s still strength to be found in showing up. That sharing with the people who matter is everything. And that those people who stand beside you, without needing explanations, are the ones who matter most. |
And that in the mountains, even when you’re breaking, you can still fly. |
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| Val Martello |
To my team mate Jens
Here’s to us.
To everything we gave. To everything we learned. To the stories we now carry, not in trophies, but in heartbeats and finish lines and all the quiet moments in between.
Nobody can take this away from us.
And whatever comes next — we’ll keep chasing the snow.
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| A taste of what it would feel like at the Olympic test event in Bormio |
"Resilience is the ability to experience something really difficult, and get to the other side of it, holding on to some form of strength or purpose" Mikaela Shiffrin
