I’m still processing everything that happened in Abu Dhabi this year — the emotions, the challenges, the victory, and the deeper meaning behind all of it. Competing at the 2025 ICF SUP World Championships was certainly unlike any other championship I’ve raced in before. It wasn’t just another chance to compete for Team USA. It was the beginning of a new chapter of my life… one I was already sharing with someone very small and very precious. Because this year, I paddled for two.
Becoming Pregnant — and Choosing to Keep Going
When I learned I was pregnant, it surprised me how immediate and strong my intuition was:
I still wanted to compete.
Without hesitation, just clarity and a sense that the timing was divinely perfect. There was however a lot of fear. After months of waiting and having previously navigated pregnancy loss, being pregnant was my number one goal for 2025. And it had finally come true.
So why risk anything?
Why keep going even as the morning (noon, and night) sickness hit hard, as sleep became unpredictable, as training quality plummeted… I didn’t know exactly why yet, but I just knew that I was meant to be at Worlds this year.
Training Through the First Trimester
I’ll be honest — training was rough.
Some days, “a good session” meant 40 minutes of technique work.
Some days, the only thing I trained was my ability to nap. And some days I felt awful, but my times were still really good. It helped so much that my coach Larry Cain never stopped believing in me and that I had the support of my family behind me as well.
My body didn’t feel like my own. I was dealing with a lot of fatigue. But I just kept showing up and doing what I could. Quietly. (I wanted so badly to let the world in on what I was up to) Imperfectly. Consistently enough.
I decided early on to focus only on the sprint and technical events. The distance race in Abu Dhabi was going to be too hot, and overheating is the one risk I decided not to take while pregnant, based on the extremely limited research I was able to find.
Announcing the Pregnancy: Choosing Authenticity
A week before the championships, on my way to the airport, I shared my news publicly. I had imagined waiting until the new year, but competing at Worlds while pregnant felt too important, too meaningful, to hide.
I wanted women — athletes, mothers, future mothers, anyone torn between dreams — to see what was possible.
Not because everyone should do what I’m doing.
But because I want women to know what’s actually possible… if they desire it.
The response was overwhelming. Loving. Emotional. Empowering.
I felt held by my community — my family, my sponsors, my teammates, my followers — in a way I will never forget.
Racing in Abu Dhabi: Competing With Heart
I had no expectations and it felt good to race without that weight.
In the sprints, I made the final against some of the most phenomenal female athletes in the sport — many of them several years younger than me — and I finished with a Bronze medal.
“Everything is more emotional when you’re pregnant,” I said afterward. When I realized I was back on the podium, in a world-class field, in my first trimester, that felt huge. Tears, gratitude, pride… all of it.
I didn’t reclaim gold this year. But what I gained means far more in many ways.
Standing on that podium I felt every morning I’d questioned myself… every nauseous training session… every prayer for guidance.
This medal isn’t just a result — it’s a message.
Motherhood doesn’t end an athlete’s journey.
Sometimes, it deepens it. Strengthens it. Expands it.
I know every woman’s situation is unique. Not everyone has the support, timing, circumstances, or desire to compete while pregnant. But for those who feel the pull toward both/and — career and family, ambition and motherhood — I hope my story offers a glimmer of what’s possible.
The Technical Race
The technical race was humbling. I felt fast off the start and my turns were decent, but I was underpowered and not able to hold the blazing pace required in the semifinal to advance — likely a combo of reduced training load and a cold I was fighting (and eventually surrendered to the next day). I didn’t make it to the final, but the relief of being done — for me and baby — was real.
Sometimes winning looks like listening to your body.
A Story Ten Years in the Making
There’s a deeper layer to this experience. Ten years ago, early in my SUP career, I had an abortion because I believed a child would end my athletic dreams.
Now, with the clarity and lived experience of motherhood, I know something I didn’t know then:
Becoming a mother makes you stronger.
More capable. More resilient. More whole.
And I often wonder how many women make life-altering decisions based on fear and false limits placed on them by sport, society, or expectations.
Gratitude —
I am endlessly grateful:
to my family, who held the emotional and logistical weight
to my sponsors, who supported me wholeheartedly
to my coach, who never stopped believing in me
to my fellow athletes, who inspire and motivate me to keep going
to the paddle community, who cheered with full hearts
and to this little life inside me, who’s already teaching me how I am capable of so much more.
And there’s one more piece of the 2025 ICF Worlds I wanted to share in case you don’t follow SUP news. My fellow competitor Mariecarmen Rivera won GOLD in the open women in all three disciplines; Sprint, Technical, and Distance! This is a feat many have attempted but none have yet succeeded. “I am in awe” is an understatement.
Even as I write this 4 weeks later and 4 months pregnant, I feel fired up, motivated, and inspired to continue in this incredible sport to push the limits of what is possible.
Thank you for being part of this story with me.
For witnessing.
For celebrating.
For supporting.
And for allowing me to be my full, authentic self through it all.
With love, gratitude, and a very full belly,
~ Seychelle
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