Ironman World Championship 2025 Race Report

Pre-Race Summary:
This was my second time racing the Ironman World Championship, so I chose to stay close to the race hotel — a great decision that made logistics easy. Things didn’t start perfectly though: a few days before leaving, my VRBO host told me the central AC was broken and they’d added two portable units. When I arrived, it was still 81°F inside and barely cooling, so I switched to a nearby hotel — sleep is too important before race day.

The week leading up to the race felt mostly okay, though I had a mild sore throat that thankfully passed. During Tuesday’s coffee boat swim, an old shoulder injury flared up, and by Wednesday I couldn’t even lift my water bottle without pain. I stopped swimming and used the free ART (Active Release Technique) sessions offered by Ironman, which really helped. By race day, my body and mind felt solid again.

Klavs arrived Thursday, and we moved to the official race hotel — the energy there was incredible, surrounded by pros and race buzz. I wasn’t nervous until bike check-in, when they announce your name as you roll your bike onto the pier — an iconic, goosebump moment. I dropped off my gear bags, walked away full of nerves, and decided to take Friday completely off — not my norm, but my body needed rest. That quiet day made me a bit antsy, but it worked.

Dinner was sushi, lights out by 8 p.m., and thanks to the time change I woke at 3:50 a.m. Race morning went smoothly — nutrition loaded, special needs bags dropped, a few inevitable nervous bathroom breaks. Staying at the race hotel made everything seamless. I met up with my CC teammate Jennifer, and we entered the swim corral together. The pro field looked to be fighting choppy water, but I pushed the thought aside and focused on staying calm.

The Swim:
First off, this isn’t the old-school Ironman mass start — it’s a wave start, about 150 athletes per group instead of 2,500 charging in at once. Huge difference.

We watched the pros on the big screen before entering the corral — Lucy Charles was incredible, even doing backstroke mid-race to check her lead. The water looked choppy, but I tried to block that out. Our group was called, we swam 100 meters to the start line to tread water — a nice warm-up in the salt water — and then the gun went off.

I started wide of the buoys, found a rhythm quickly, and managed to draft off a few feet for sighting. The course is straightforward — out and back — but after a few hundred meters, the swells became noticeable. They weren’t crashing waves, just big rolling swells that made sighting tricky. It felt like forever reaching the turn boat, and as we rounded it, the waves grew larger. I assumed the way back would be faster, maybe with a current assist, but no — the swells were even bigger heading in. Luckily, I breathe to the right, so I wasn’t fighting them.

At times I felt too far off the buoy line, but moving closer meant getting swum over by faster athletes from later waves, so I stayed wide. A paddleboarder confirmed I was fine, so I kept going and aimed for the yellow buoy marking the final stretch.

I exited in 1:45, slower than hoped (I wanted closer to 1:30) and only seven minutes faster than when I’d raced with a broken collarbone. It was frustrating, but I reminded myself to shake it off and move forward.

Seeing Klavs cheering from the pier lifted my spirits immediately. T1 went smoothly and fast — though the sunscreen volunteer only covered my upper body. Thankfully, the astaxanthin I’d been taking the past two weeks saved me from any burns.

The Bike:
I felt solid early on and rode strong for the first hour, hitting my half-Ironman power numbers — a sign I needed to back off. As I got farther along the Queen K, pain started creeping into my lower back. I hadn’t had that in years, which was frustrating. I tried to figure out why — probably the wind. I waited before taking my natural pain reliever and finally used it before the Hawi climb. It didn’t help much, and the headwind was brutal — far worse than two years ago.

I kept steady, passing riders even if few were in my age group — a pass is still a pass. Around 3:30 I took a caffeine gummy, which helped both the pain and focus (the BCQ probably kicked in too). The boost lasted about an hour as I headed back on the Queen K, where the wind eased but the heat ramped up. I doused myself with water at every aid station to stay cool.

I’d hoped for a 6-hour bike, which felt ambitious but possible. As the miles dragged on, I was disappointed with my pace, so I pushed harder for the final stretch, determined to come in under 6:20. Surprisingly, my back pain faded during that last hour.

As we neared town, a spectator shouted that Taylor was leading, which was a welcome distraction — the Queen K can be mentally dull. Rolling back into town, I mentally rehearsed T2 and prayed my run legs were ready. Last time, they hadn’t been.

Klavs was there cheering, saying I’d “crushed the bike.” I brushed it off until he told me I’d passed 65 women in my age group — that definitely lifted my mood. T2 felt slow as I carefully dried my feet and pulled on socks. A volunteer offered sunscreen, but I declined — I didn’t need a spray in the face right then. As I headed out, I heard them interviewing Solveig and wondered, What happened to Taylor?

The Run:
Leaving transition felt electric — crowds lined the exit and I felt like a rock star. I spotted Klavs, who ran alongside for a moment, excitedly telling me about the shocking pro race — Lucy and Taylor were both out. He reminded me to race smart.

Ali’i Drive felt warm and muggy, but manageable. I planned ahead to unzip my tri top if needed and did so around mile 4, which helped. Spectators sprayed water, and I took my time at every aid station for water and ice. Grabbing salt and amino tablets quickly was still tricky, but I made sure not to skip any — salt was crucial in the heat.

After Ali’i came the grind up Palani and onto the long, exposed Queen K. This year, I was mentally ready for it. The stretch out to the Energy Lab is mostly uphill, and I walked more than I wanted, but I needed to save my legs. Entering the Energy Lab earlier meant daylight — a huge plus since the pavement is rough. The climb out felt okay, helped by a tailwind, and by the time I was back on the Queen K, it was dark — mentally a relief.

I started doing “Ironmath,” figuring out pace and time. I knew I was close to 13 hours and desperately wanted to see a 12 at the finish. After a tough swim and slower bike, I needed that win. I kept asking myself, “How bad do you want it?” and answering, “I want it.” I calculated the pace I needed and just kept running, taking short walk breaks when necessary.

A coach on course told her athlete there was only one hill left before Palani. I dug deep, crested it, and then flew down toward the finish. The crowd’s energy was unreal. I turned onto Ali’i, praying the course distance was accurate. Then came the red carpet. I slowed, soaked it all in — I think Footloose was playing.

Crossing the arch, I saw 12:58 on the clock. Pure joy. Klavs was waiting at the finish to lei me, and I couldn’t have been happier.