I didn’t come to fight the race.
I came to enjoy the battle.
Some races test your body. Others remind you of your why.
Marbella was that race.
After a season of
setbacks, healing, and grit, April and I arrived in Marbella, Spain not chasing perfection — but peace.
This wasn’t just another race.
It was the culmination of a year that tested every part of me: the back that wouldn’t stop aching, the foot that kept threatening to give up, and the heart that refused to stop believing.
The Journey…
April and I landed in Madrid on Wednesday, jet-lagged but buzzing with energy, and made the drive south to Marbella, winding through the Andalusian hills, laughing, singing, dreaming about race day.
We stayed at the Hard Rock Hotel, the perfect mix of calm and excitement, music, ocean air, and that unmistakable pre-race electricity in the air.
On Thursday we picked up our rental bikes. Yes we chose the easiest way to race with no hassle traveling with our bikes.
Then…
We Swam…
….in the beautiful clear Mediterranean Sea in Porto Banus beach.
Water felt cold, but nothing unbearable.
By Friday, everything felt real: athlete check-in, bike racking, and that quiet moment on the beach when you realize, you’ve already won simply by making it here.
Race Morning…
A cool 69°F sunrise, clear skies, and gentle rolling seas …the kind of day every athlete hopes for.
The water temperature was a wetsuit-legal 63°F, with the sun glinting off the calm Mediterranean. My nerves were steady; I felt grounded and ready.
Just before the start, April, Norma, and I shared a quiet nod.
….three women who had each fought through pain, fear, and doubt to stand here once again, ready to race the World Championship together.
Swim
〰️
1.9 km
〰️
Swim 〰️ 1.9 km 〰️
The Mediterranean
… greeted us with relatively calm, clear water at the start, I could see the sand and fish beneath me, and for a moment, it felt peaceful and familiar.
The first stretch was smooth, the waves gentle, rhythm easy to find.
But once we reached the deeper open water, it turned choppy and unpredictable, the kind of challenge that reminds you this is the World Championship.
I started….
…..the swim with Norma and, without even realizing it, we swam almost the entire course side by side.
When we both came out of the water together into transition, I couldn’t help but smile, no plan, no pacing strategy, just perfect synchronicity.
It was a tough but beautiful swim, wild, honest, and alive, just like the Mediterranean itself.
Bike
〰️
90 km
〰️
1785 m (5857 ft) Elevation Gain
〰️
Bike 〰️ 90 km 〰️ 1785 m (5857 ft) Elevation Gain 〰️
Marbella bike…
….course is breathtaking and brutal. It’s a true World Championship ride: a course that rewards patience, precision, and pure power.
Rolling climbs through white-washed villages, fast descents overlooking the sea, and long stretches that dare you to push too early.
It’s where the race’s true character emerges. It is a stunning but punishing route that climbs from sea level up through the villages of Ojén, Monda, and Coín before looping back toward Puerto Banús.
Long, sustained..
…climbs (4–14%), minimal shade, and sweeping descents reward focus and bike handling. The scenery, Andalusian hills, olive groves, and ocean views, offers rare moments of calm between the effort spikes.
I rode a rental Scott Foil, holding steady and patient on the climbs, controlled on the descents, fueling on schedule, staying within myself. But the moment the road tilted upward, my back and left side started talking to me, exactly as expected. I knew this would happen. That’s why I came in with a plan: take it easy, stay relaxed, and respect the course.
My power hovered around 60% FTP, far from aggressive, but exactly what my body needed. The fit on the rental didn’t help either; the 172 mm crankset felt foreign compared to my usual 155s that protect my hamstrings. Still, I focused on staying calm and grateful.
I stopped at…
… all four aid stations to stretch, even though I had my own nutrition. I chatted with volunteers, smiled at other athletes, and soaked in the atmosphere. I even grabbed one of the nice bottles they were handing out, couldn’t resist!
The road to Ojén was stunning, steep, hilly, and windy, but the gusts on the descents made it unpredictable and at times, honestly scary. A few times the wind grabbed the bike, and I had to back off and hold steady.
By mile 40,
I realized I was riding a bit too conservatively and that my time would be slower than usual, but I also knew I’d easily make the cutoff.
So I kept doing exactly what I came here to do: enjoy the ride, stay safe, and take in the beauty of this incredible course.
Run
〰️
21.1 km
〰️
Run 〰️ 21.1 km 〰️
After conquering
… the hills, the bike gave way to the flat, fast, and sun-exposed Marbella promenade, two laps of 10.5 km along the beach, weaving through cheering crowds, golden sand, and ocean breeze.
The heat hovered
in the mid-70s, softened by the sea air, and the bridge crossings broke the rhythm just enough to remind you that this course demands focus until the very end.
My left leg felt tight coming off the bike. The foot held, but my back was screaming. Nothing new. I settled into a comfortable rhythm, running strong around 8:45–8:50 min/mile, but I allowed myself to walk often. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to. I wanted to take it all in: the music, the views, the energy of Marbella.
I made so many friends on course (athletes, spectators, volunteers) everyone sharing the same joy and exhaustion. I talked, laughed, thanked people, soaking in every moment.
Some spectators…
…shouted, “Come on, don’t walk, keep pushing!”
I smiled and said, “Why should I? I’m enjoying the views, and I still have three hours!” 😂
My back wasn’t happy, but it’s been my companion for almost three years, sometimes whispering, sometimes screaming, but never stopping me. I was simply grateful to still be out there, doing what I love.
One of my …
… favorite moments came when Christine ran up from behind while I was walking. “Come on, run with me!” she said, and I did. We ran together for about 30 minutes, stopping at aid stations like old times. Eventually, I told her to go ahead. I wanted to finish this race in my own rhythm, relaxed, joyful, fully present.
The views …
…. were stunning, waves crashing beside us, palm trees lining the promenade, and the elegant Puerto Banús port glowing in the afternoon sun.
By the final miles, I wasn’t chasing time anymore. I was celebrating life, the journey, and the privilege of being here, proof that you can rebuild again and again and still find joy in the fight.
Somewhere around mile 12, I even took my braids out, I was so ready for a shower. 😅
And the finish line?
Completely different from my usual.
I didn’t sprint or jump.
I walked through it.
Calm, smiling, and full of gratitude.
And yes…
This was the slowest 70.3 I’ve ever done.
A personal record in patience, presence, and doing the race my way.
Overall
This race wasn’t about redemption or revenge.
It was about closure, standing on a world-championship course not as the fastest or the fittest, but as the most grateful.
I came here carrying the scars of the season, from North Carolina’s comeback to the countless rehab days, and crossed this finish line whole in spirit, even if the body still ached.
After this one, it’s time to finally rest, to heal with PRP and let my body catch up to the fire that’s carried me through every mile of this year.
“Takeaway
You don’t need a perfect body to do extraordinary things.
You just need the courage to start — again and again — until faith wins over fear.
The Ocean Didn’t Whisper. It Welcomed Me.
This time, I didn’t come to prove anything.
I came to remember why I fell in love with this sport.
After a year of pain, patience, and slow healing, I arrived in Marbella not to fight my body, but to listen to it.
To feel the salt on my skin, the climb beneath my legs, the sun on my shoulders.”
Because this race
…this World Championship wasn’t about speed.
It was about freedom.
About letting go of what hurt and holding on to what matters: movement, friendship, gratitude, and joy.
When I crossed that finish line, I didn’t feel broken or brave.
I just felt whole again.
Post-Race
After the race, April and I set out on a road trip through Spain hiking, exploring the coast, the cities and the mountains, soaking in every moment of adventure and freedom that this journey has given us.
