From the Sidelines to the Start Line: The Pierra Menta living up to its reputation

I have done many incredible races in my career as an athlete, from mountain bike stage races to adventure races, and the infamous Atlas Mountain Race, which left a real impact on me when I raced it with my friend Katie a few years ago.

But nothing quite matches what I felt racing the Pierra Menta—before, during, or after. Every cell in my body came to life, and every bone carried the depth of the emotions that came with it. People often refer to it as “ it's the Pierre” when they try to explain it, but you don’t truly understand it until you experience it yourself.

Watching from the sidelines is what first got me hooked. The level required just to complete it is so high—it excited me. It has everything I am passionate about: adventure, mountains, high performance, and camaraderie all in one. It’s something truly special.

What I love about ski mountaineering races is that there’s nowhere to hide. The mountains have a way of exposing everything—every weakness, every doubt, every gap in preparation. A strong heart, powerful legs, and solid lungs are only the baseline; they’re not enough on their own. You need resilience, technical skill, mental clarity, and the ability to keep going when everything in you is telling you to stop. And that’s exactly what makes this sport so exciting to me—because it’s so incredibly tough, so honest, and so demanding that when you show up, you know you’ve truly earned your place.

For a few years, I looked at it without the confidence to enter. I was new to the sport, new to skiing, new to the mountains. I simply didn’t have the level to make the cut-off times, let alone do it day after day for four days. The downhills were known as being “mad”—taking you into some of the most unskiable parts of the mountains—and the days were big, with as much elevation gain as they could fit in. I’m not scared of many things when it comes to racing, but of the Pierra Menta, I was.

For the last three years, I’ve been coached by Emilio Corbex. I love working with Emilio—he understands me, we click. Over that time, he has helped turn me into an elite competitor. I’ve learned to show up with confidence, and I’ve improved more than I thought possible. So this year, on the 40th anniversary of the race, which also counted as the World Championships, it felt like the right time. I signed up.

Choosing a teammate for something like this isn’t easy. When I realised my original teammate wouldn’t have the level needed, I had to make a change less than a month before the race. I was lucky that my friend Virginia said yes.

At the race briefing, looking around at all the top athletes, the magnitude of it really hit me. I had a moment of doubt, questioning why I keep putting myself in these situations. But over the four days, I found my answer: I love this process. I love pushing myself, learning, and discovering that I’m capable of more than I think.

just before the start of the first stage

It’s hard to fully describe the emotions, mind set and effort needed to finish each stage.

Day one pushed us straight out of our comfort zone—45-degree couloirs on hard-packed snow at race pace. Nothing felt easy. It felt like a clear message: “Welcome to the Pierra Menta.” Even the strongest athletes were talking about how serious the descents were. The support along the course was incredible—something I’ve never experienced before. It really makes you feel like a superhero. Finishing that stage felt like a big achievement in itself. I felt like I was living the dream.

Day two started in Arêches and was a big 3000m elevation gain day, and I didn’t start with full confidence. I’m not sure exactly what happened in my head. We began well, but I asked Virginia to slow the pace because I was worried about sustaining it. In the end, we raced too conservatively. At the cut-off, there was confusion—some volunteers told us to stop, others told us to go. I made a quick decision and told Virginia, let’s go.

the incredible descents

We pushed hard from there. It was hot, and we both gave everything. We didn’t say much, just checked in with each other as we went. We started catching other teams, which always gives a boost at the end of a stage. When we finished, we weren’t sure if we were still in the race because of the confusion at the cut off area. When we found out we were, it was a huge relief—but also a good wake-up call.

I knew I didn’t want to repeat that. I had to trust myself more and not let doubt dictate the pace.

Day three was another big one—2800m of elevation gain, including the Grand Mont. From watching in previous years, I knew how special this stage was, and I didn’t want to miss out. So I studied the course, knew we had to push where and when. I took the lead and from the get go started with a strong, committed pace. I felt confident. The technical terrain was tough for Virginia, but regardless she kept pushing. We built a solid margin before the cut-off, which allowed us to ski the descents with more control.

coming over the ridge line of the Grand Mont

the kick turns of the Pierra Menta 

That day, I felt the strongest I ever have on skis. I could actually take in the atmosphere—the people, the noise, the energy. It made me feel an incredible sense of freedom and happiness Climbing along the ridge and then reaching the summit, hearing the crowd, I got quite emotional. It was one of those moments you will never forget. It was a tough day for Virginia, however she never gave up, and we finished strong and moved up a few places.

From experience, I know how hard it can be to reset mentally after a difficult day, especially at this level. Stay positive I advised Virginia and she did exactly that for the final stage.

on the way to the start of the final stage 

 It was cold and snowy, and the course was adjusted to a technical route through the forest. We used the same strategy as the day before—start fast to position well early on. This time, Virginia set the pace, and I could feel she was strong again. I didn’t feel at my best in the cold, but I kept reminding myself of the advise I gave Virginia, to stay positive and keep pushing.

It was great to see Virginia skiing the technical sections with confidence, especially on the descents. She was flying. Everything clicked on the final day and we worked really well together.

The noise from the crowd was incredible all the way through. At one point it was so loud my ears started ringing. What an experience. And then suddenly, we were on the final climb—500m to go.

even in a snow storm they showed up 

It hit me then. We were going to finish.

What had been just a dream only a few years ago was now happening. I felt really emotional in that moment. Tears. It felt surreal. Here we were, with the best ski mountaineers in the world and we did it. We crossed the line as a stronger team than we started, finishing in the top 20 on the final stage and 23rd female team overall across four days at a World Championship event. A dream come true.

and just like we finished 

The exciting thing for me was the realisation that there’s still a lot to improve, especially on the downhills where we lost most of our time. But more than anything, this experience gave me confidence—it showed me that there is so much more possible.

A big thank you to Virginia for saying yes, to Emilio for guiding me over these past years, and to everyone who has supported me along the way — it truly means a lot.

I’ve always known I dream big, and over time I’ve realised I’m probably wired a bit differently than what people call “normal.” For most of my life, that left me feeling misunderstood, like I had to explain or justify the way I think. But step by step, I’ve found myself surrounded by people who don’t question that side of me — they value it, they encourage it, they applaud it. And that shift has changed everything.

Pulling this off meant a lot. Not just because of the result, but because of what it represents.

It’s my reminder — and hopefully I can inspire others a long the way — that with courage, patience, and consistent hard work, things that once felt completely out of reach can actually become real.

For me, Pierra Menta proved that.

And I’d love to be back on that start line next year—seeing how much further I can go.

“It might be risky,” says the mind.

“It’s unnecessary,” says experience.

“It’s pointless,” says reason.

“Give it a try,” whispers the heart.

Friends for life