Ironman 70.3 World Championship Marbella
A Year’s Ending, a Reset, and the Race I’m Most Proud Of
There’s something different about writing a recap when nothing comes after it.
When you don’t have the “next build” planned, no confirmed start lines, no immediate goal hiding behind the recovery week. Marbella wasn’t just another race at the end of a long season , it was the full stop at the end of a sentence I’d been building for two years.
The Lead Up
I came off Maryland with the bike feeling better than ever, but the run… not so much.
Getting my legs back felt heavy, slow, unpredictable. Yet the cycling felt fresh. I went from endless flats to rolling climbs, and suddenly the work became exciting again. Hills match something in my personality , they ask you to be deliberate, not desperate.
And surprisingly, the swim finally moved. I didn’t get faster overnight, but I broke the plateau that had been quietly frustrating me all year. That bump alone gave me momentum.
Then, one week before leaving for Europe, I got sick. Not “mild cold” sick , the kind where you can’t run more than two minutes, can’t swim 50m without stopping, and your legs put out 100–150w like that’s a herculean effort. A whole week of forced stillness is dangerous for the mind of someone who thrives on work. My confidence on the run disappeared.
But it passed. Barely in time.
Two Weeks Early by Accident
The only flight that accepted my bike arrived two weeks before race day. Not a planned training camp — just the only option. It ended up being the best advantage I’ve ever stumbled into.
I rode pieces of the course every day. At first, I was intimidated. I’m not the lightest rider out there, and this wasn’t a forgiving route. So my tool wasn’t watts — it had to be knowledge. Precision. Knowing exactly where to push, where to save, where free speed hid on descents.
The more I rode it, the more it came back — the feeling of mountain biking skills waking up. Turning, reading lines, trusting speed. I believe descending is trained in the brain first, not in the legs. It’s eyesight, reflex, instinct. By race week, I was confident in ways I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Race Day
Swim-(30min54:1900m)
The best swim I’ve ever had.
Fast, controlled, clean sighting, no panic. For the first time, I had time to think while swimming — not just survive. The work on open-water strategy paid off. I know now that I can go faster without losing discipline. I felt like I was dancing with the ocean.
Transitions
Rookie knots in my bags cost me precious seconds. I also exploded out of T1 like a sprinter, hitting 172 bpm before even settling on the bike. Lesson learned: transitions are still part of the race, not a break from thinking.
Bike-2h52(1600m;90km)
Solid, honest riding. I got passed on climbs, made ground on flats and descents. My position felt dialed in, and you were right — the gear setup mattered more than I imagined. That said, I never peed, and I was thirsty non-stop. A few quad cramps at halfway and an upset stomach here and there , maybe swallowed saltwater, maybe dehydration, maybe both. Hard to know.
But I executed. I used the knowledge I built over two weeks, and I’m proud of that.
Run 1:49(21km)
Nothing felt right stepping out of T2. At km 3 or 4 I almost puked, had to stop, walked more than I wanted. It wasn’t the run I imagined. I thought I could go sub-1:40. I quickly learned that this was not that day.
But something unexpected happened: after that first loop, I found rhythm. Nothing fast, nothing spectacular — just honest endurance. I could’ve run a third loop at the same pace. I now understand what it means when people say Ironman “leaves marks.” There was no speed left… but plenty of strength.
So I reframed the mission: be proud and race where your feet are. And I did.
What the World Stage Gave Me
What inspired me:
Being surrounded by the best , a humbling reminder that there’s always another level.
The perspective you can only get when you stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the very people you once watched online.
What challenged me:
An uneven swim field ; hard to find solid feet.
Bike traffic that demanded surging and passing for three straight hours.
High stress and heavy logistics the day before racing.
But that’s part of the game. World championships aren’t meant to be comfortable.
The Aftermath — A Blank Page
For the first time in a long time, I’m not rushing toward the next goal. No frantic planning. No quick decisions out of post-race emotion. I raced Marbella like it might be the last one for a while, not out of doubt, but out of respect.
What’s next will be chosen with intention. Races that elevate me , not races picked because the destination sounds cool or the course video gave me butterflies. I want to build smarter, not louder.
These last two years were a lot of work. Life work, training work, emotional work. And it paid off.
The People — The Real Win
After all, what made Marbella unforgettable wasn’t only the race. It was the people. Standing here felt like being surrounded by ones who truly support us collectively.
Triathlon isn’t just something we do , it’s a lifestyle. Our bodies go beyond what we once believed they could, and it’s a privilege.
This sport has given me more friendships than I ever expected. I’ve said it so many times, but there’s something uniquely bonding about sharing pain with others. There’s trust in it. Vulnerability in it. And when that work happens side by side , even without talking , we leave with a sense of connection that’s hard to replicate anywhere else.
Marbella was a gathering of people all chasing something honest: effort. And being part of that collective pursuit might just be the most rewarding part of all.
Final Thought
This was not my fastest race.
Not my “best” result.
But it was the race I’m most proud of.
I showed up fully : physically, mentally, emotionally …and I honored the process that got me here.
If this season taught me anything, it’s that performance isn’t the peak of a graph.
It’s the accumulation of all the moments you refuse to stop showing up.
