2025 IRONMAN 70.3 World Championships

Ironman 70.3 World Championship 2025

November 9th, 2025

Marbella, Spain

Ironman 70.3

The Road to Marbella, Spain: Final Chaos & Shedding the Winter Coat!

The last six weeks leading up to World Champs felt less like a training block and more like a high-speed juggling act in a wind tunnel. It was an absolute blur! While I was meant to be winding down and resting, the actual logistics of life were in full tilt. My "little big guy" started writing his Grade 7 final exams just as we left for the race—a stress test far exceeding any triathlon—and preparation for the Great Trek (semi-gration) was swallowing up all my spare time. Maintaining training consistency during that whirlwind? That was a mythical creature I failed to capture.

But the true victory of the build-up didn't happen on the road; it happened on the plate. The exciting part is that T3 (The Total Transformation Project) served as an amazing testing ground. It wasn't just a business concept; it was my final weapon for shedding some much-needed excess baggage and dialing in the nutrition, and now which I am a part of.

After comprehensive blood tests (which, naturally, were 99% on the awesome side), Candice De Mendonca and Paul Wheeler (my sports nutrition and supplement wizard from Nutr8) prepared a strict 6-week Meal and Nutrition plan. Having never committed to such a stringent regime before, it was exciting, revolutionary, and rather restrictive (read: zero sweets, zero alcohol—a true test of mental endurance!).

But it worked like a charm! I dropped from 76kgs down to a flight-ready 72kgs for race day. I felt lighter, faster, and finally ready to face the world stage!

The Pre-Race Side Hustle: Designing the SA Kit

And because having a restrictive diet and a Grade 7 exam schedule wasn't quite enough chaos, I somehow thought it would be a brilliant idea to take on a full-blown side hustle right before World Champs. I volunteered to design, manufacture, and deliver the custom South African kit for as many athletes as I could wrangle.

This was a pre-race logistical marathon: designing, getting printed, made, and delivered on time to these world-class athletes. The stress levels were elevated, but the designs were epic: a killer training shirt (designed by yours truly), a supporter's golf shirt (with design help from Candice Giles), and finally, the pièce de résistance—a magnificent windbreaker (with design help from Lauren Friedman).

Stressful? Absolutely. Rewarding? Infinitely. The best part? Seeing the fruits of that chaotic labour showcased in the upcoming Parade of Nations!

The Journey to Spain: Begins.

We chose Turkish Airlines—the cheapest and quickest route to Malaga, Spain. Of course, this decision had a sting in its tail. The extra surcharge for my bike was more than half the cost of my seat! Travel, triathlon style, is never cheap, but that felt excessive.

However, that hefty bike fee became a surprisingly worthwhile investment. As I write this blog two weeks after the race, there are still loads of the 6,000 bikes that flooded into Malaga waiting to make the long journey home. Mine? It arrived back in Joburg on our flight, and miraculously, in one piece! A small travel miracle that justifies every penny of that ridiculous surcharge.

The travel itself was an adventure. Besides having to share half my already cramped seat with a very accommodating American lady, I was travelling with the best crew: Lauren, Warren, Jordan, Marbella Arrival & The South African Swagger

Upon arrival at Malaga, the sheer chaos of thousands and thousands of athletes descending on Marbella was instantly evident. We had to literally wade through throngs of bikes just to find our precious steeds. They were there, thankfully, and we needed to skedaddle! Thanks to the awesome transport and accommodation sorted by Lauren and Warren (the unsung heroes of logistics), we were able to beline straight for the Plaza de Antonio Banderas for the Parade of Nations.

Meeting up with nearly all the athletes representing South Africa was absolutely epic. But if I can be a little modest (I'll try, I promise!), we looked farking amazing in our SA kit. The uniform chaos of my pre-race side hustle paid off! We absolutely outclassed every other country at the parade of nations with our gees and our spectacular kit! It was a true moment of national pride and swagger and my number one fan and the best supporter in the world, Candice.

Candice has done every 70.3 and my full Ironman right there with me on this journey. It was only fitting and absolutely deserved that she was at the World Champs. She has essentially qualified for the World Supporter Champs several times over through her unwavering support, during the races and in life!

Next up was registration, and even this process was an amazing experience. The athlete and expo village was simply spectacular—set right on the beach by the start/finish line. This incredible village of 6,000 primed athletes with their supporters in tow was something to behold, truly unlike anything I have ever experienced in my racing career.

A MASSIVE Kudos must go to Precision Fuel and Hydration. They made the whole village and experience feel inclusive, fun, and rewarding (getting those branded bottles on the course was gold!—and yes, I don't use their products, but those drink bottles were essential treasure!).

With registration done, it was time to head home, unpack, and assemble the bike to see if Ceepo was still in one piece. She was! But in the middle of pumping up the tires, I managed to break the tubeless valve. Sigh. Cue the inevitable pre-race mechanical failure. I immediately acted like a frustrated five-year-old for a solid five minutes before realizing that this wasn't the first time, and we could certainly get it sorted the next morning. World Champs, here we come, complete with our signature style of chaos management!

Thursday was dedicated to the sacred art of bike fixing. The queue to get into the repair tent was a beast, but being one of the first in line was beneficial. While Ceepo underwent a quick upgrade, Candice and I morphed into triathlon groupies, sitting in on the pro interviews and chasing famous faces all around the expo for selfies. We also took the opportunity to shop for the kids (and for myself—a gorgeous new pair of racing shoes for the big day!). Yes, I know the mantra: "Nothing new on Race Day!" but my old trainers had already undergone stitching surgery; it was time. These were clearly an awesome, necessary purchase!

With Ceepo theoretically sorted, it was time for an easy spin. The wheels were great—the derailleur? Not so much. Ceepo would need to return to the dreaded bike repair queue. However, upon seeing the now ginormous queue, I decided to execute a classic Scott Self-Repair and convinced myself I knew exactly what I was doing. The test would be Friday's recon of the first 20km of the course. I finished Thursday off with a partial run recon, feeling the various surfaces and slight inclines. Running right next to the sea was awesome, making me realize this was going to be an interesting run, regardless of the weather.

Friday's Bike Course Recon was a magnificent blend of cool and terrifying. It first started with a little unexpected drama: we came upon a Swiss lady who had been taken out by an opening car door. After straightening her handlebars, checking the bleeding was just from scratches, and literally holding her shoulders to reassure her she would be okay and would finish her race on Saturday (we hope!), I finally took to the hills. That lady would track me down on Facebook and respond to one of my posts asking firstly if I was the guy that helped and if I was Thank you for helping and letting me know she finished the race. Epically proud moment!

Now, I use Rouvy A LOT, and while the simulator was 80% accurate, the remaining 20%—the new course section—was spectacular and frightening. Climbing amidst the normal Friday traffic was an immediate stress test, but I am beyond stoked that I did it. It mentally prepared me for the monster uphills and the terrifying descents, where the pros were apparently hitting speeds of 88km/h! This was going to be next level.

The final errand? Back to the bike repair centre. I waited 30 minutes before the local resellers of Ceepo (who had a stand nearby) spotted me. They ushered me out of the 500-metre-long queue like royalty and fixed my bike in five minutes flat. Thank you, Ceepo and the team! That's the benefit of choosing the right ride!

After a run with Candice to loosen the legs, it was time for the swim recon. For the first time ever, the course was already laid out! So I thought, "What the hell, let's swim the course." It was epic! Besides having the sea and the course to myself, with hardly any swell or wind, I honestly took it easy and completed the course in a cruisy 32 minutes. This swim was going to be great, I told myself—the sub-30 was definitely on the cards!

Saturday was Ladies Race Day, which meant I had to perform a delicate balancing act: sneak in some last-minute training, maintain an atmosphere of calm serenity, and support the pros and my friends while they raced, all before the inevitable bike racking for my own race on Sunday.

Being so close to my idols in the sport was utterly surreal. I went full fanboy, shouting for Taylor Knibb and then running right next to Lucy (Charles-Barclay)—just barely managing to keep up, obviously—and making sure they both knew exactly how awesome they were. That was genuinely epic!

Luckily, my friend Lauren was in the same age group, and started slightly earlier than I was going to. This was perfect; I was there from start to finish to cheer her on, check out the exact conditions of the course, and hear her immediate, unfiltered thoughts on the Marbella battlefield. Gathering that intelligence was almost as important as racking my bike!

Before I knew it, Saturday was winding down, and it was time to head to transition. The area was a true sea of bicycles; most races I've been to don't even come close to the sheer volume here. Over 3,000 bicycles shimmering in the fading sunlight was a truly daunting but epic sight.

Transition 2 also delivered a World Champs curveball: it was about 500m away in an underground car park! And because the ladies were still racing, it wasn't completely accessible, as their bikes were still racked there. This meant T2 was going to be a bit of a "find your way as you go" adventure tomorrow. Just the kind of added logistical chaos I needed!

With all the gear racked and the final checks done, it was off for an early dinner with the team. The main course? Draining Lauren for every last piece of course intelligence after her grueling day out. Brain stuffed with recon, tummy full, it was off to bed for a restless night before the biggest race of the year!

Race Day

Race Morning started with the team gently suggesting the highly experimental compound known as: coffee. Hesitantly, I took the coffee shot, just to make sure all my highly sensitive internal systems were fully operational, and thankfully, it worked! After a relaxed breakfast, it was time to head down.

Having a later start was a mixed blessing: I started two hours after the Pros, which meant we still had to play the early bird to set up in transition, watch the Pros start from the sidelines, and then stand around for an hour and a bit before filing into the start chute. Candice was brilliant and patient as usual, acting as my personal calming influence—a necessary counter-balance to my internal nervous ping-pong match.

The Swim: Chute Royalty, Sun Blinders & The Stripper Debacle

Finally, I was standing in the chute with over 400 athletes just in my age group—the last, but certainly not the least, wave to start that day. I did my usual pre-race banter, and naturally, I was wedged between two forms of intimidating excellence: on one side, the reigning World Champion of my age group, a Brit named Donald Brooks; and on the other, the son of the oldest competitor! Talk about pressure! This was proof: this was Worlds, and I was surrounded by legends and their extremely athletic offspring.

Since the Pros had gone off two hours ago, conditions had flipped. The wind had picked up, and those mini-waves were actively breaking on the beach—a proper "PE kinda swim," as we call it! Adding to the fun, the sun had decided to become an aggressive attacker, rising straight over the first buoy and turning it into a blinding orange beacon.

And BEEP! It was go time.

Within the first 100 metres, I had to stop to adjust my wetsuit velcro, which had instantly decided it was time to chafe my neck. Already breaking stride! I realized quickly that this was going to be a fight to the finish. Exiting the water, I saw the wetsuit strippers available. Now, every triathlete knows the golden rule: "Nothing new on race day!" But this was Worlds! I threw caution to the wind and tried the stripper service. Naturally, it was an absolute mare, leaving me feeling tangled, humiliated, and definitely looking like I’d just lost a very personal wrestling match with a damp rubber seal.

Swim time: 33min 25sec (So much for the sub, what a difference the wind makes)

Transition 1: The Long Walk of Redemption

After the humiliating defeat by the wetsuit stripper (my own fault for breaking the cardinal rule!), the rest of Transition 1 was thankfully a complete contrast. It was pretty smooth sailing.

However, it was the marathon run with the bike through the transition area that was the real discipline. The whole place was now a massive, empty maze of racks, which paradoxically made the exit so much easier to see, even though the run felt miles long. Job done! Gear was on, dignity was mostly restored, and the focus shifted immediately to the next challenge: the infamous Marbella hills. Time for some serious climbing!

Transition 1 time: 4min 12sec

The Bike Leg: Relentless Beauty, Wind Betrayal, and Suicide Hill

I was absolutely stoked that I had done the initial climbs before race day, although with an elevated heart rate from racing and riders constantly swarming around me, the whole thing felt a bit harder than the dress rehearsal. But I slowly forced myself into a rhythm, knocking out 1km after the other, then one brutal hill after the other. The goal was clear: get as close to a sub-three-hour bike split as humanly possible.

The initial climb to Ojen was completed—it was beautiful, relentless, hot, and sweaty, a true taste of World Champs pain! With 20kms in the bag, it was time to put the head down and go. The next 30kms were rolling and fast, like the road was giving me a massive push. It was only at the turnaround point that I realized how much the wind had been my silent, powerful partner for the last 30kms.

The final 40kms, including the hills, were going to be HARD. Competitor after competitor sailed past me as I fought against the headwind and those relentless hills—it felt like trying to cycle through wet cement while going upstream. I knew I just had to get to the 80km mark; then it was Suicide Hill time.

When I reached the top, I knew I had to go for it, especially if I wanted to sniff the three-hour mark. So I did the only thing a sane person would: I stuck my head down and quietly let Jesus know that I might meet him sooner than planned, but I was going for it! I committed fully. At 69kms an hour (and yes, others were going way faster, which is terrifying), I took on the sweeps and turns. The headwind hitting the 80mm wheels occasionally caused them to shake, forcing me to sit up off my time trial bars, but I caught myself screaming out with pure, adrenaline-fueled excitement at how awesome and insane this descent was. The run into town and T2 was flat, and I gave it absolute horns!

Bike time: 3hr 06min (So Close to that 3hr)

Transition 2: The Screaming Descent to the Underground Labyrinth

Entering our carpark Transition 2, the unique logistics immediately hit the legs. We had to go down this ramp into the underground carpark, and let me tell you, after that bike leg, my legs were absolutely screaming in protest at the downhill descent!

Inside, the T2 carpark was a labyrinth of thousands of bikes. It was a massive weaving exercise to rack Ceepo, who had done a blinding job on the hills, and then navigate the throngs to find my gear bag. Even amidst the chaos, I felt pretty good! I had time to chat to people along the way and whilst changing. Shoes, race belt, glasses on, and that was it.

Job done. Now, it was time to see just how much capital I had burned on that Suicide Hill adrenaline rush!

Transition 2 time: 3min 50sec

The Run: Flagging Spirit, Flying Crowds & The Bridge Betrayal

From the moment I left T2, the run was absolutely incredible. The atmosphere was next level. From kilometer dot right up to the finish, the crowds, the aid stations, and the vocal support from Candice and friends were nothing short of spectacular—it was like running on a carpet of pure adrenaline.

The first 8kms flew by, navigating multiple terrains, from bridges to road to dirt track. It was going great, but then, as we neared the harbour, the wind struck back. It was still there, but even stronger now—a proper head-on assault—and I literally had to hold onto my cap as we ran next to the boats.

The second lap started well, but then came the infamous bridge. That section, with its uneven wooden slats, got me—just like it had taken out hundreds of runners the day before and earlier today. I twisted my ankle running up it. It wasn't a catastrophic, but it was enough to immediately know that something had been tweaked. And sure enough, five kilometers later, the pain said a polite "Hello!" again, requiring me to stop and perform a rather undignified ankle mobility stretch to loosen what had pulled.

Then it was back out to face the soul-depleting wind by the harbour one more time. But by then, all I could think about was that finish line and that final, incredible stretch carrying the South African flag.

Before I knew it, I was there—the moment of triumph! I meant to stop, thank Candice, and give her a kiss in the final straight (sorry, love, the finish line was calling! I did give you a huge thank you kiss and sweaty hug after, I promise!). But the line was calling, and that was that. Done and dusted!

Run time: 1hr 38min

Overall time: 5hr 26min 58sec

Post-Race Reflection: Sublime Support & The Humble Grind

As I sit back and reflect on what was an truly amazing race, the first thing that hits you is the sheer caliber of the athletes. Just being there was incredible. Surrounding yourself with such talent makes one quite modest, but more importantly, it makes one realize that there is still so much work to be done.

The World Champs was an amazing, a spectacle of dedication and endurance, and participating in it—sharing that atmosphere with Candice every step of the way—was simply sublime. The thing I love about triathlon is that you are continually learning how to improve the little bits and pieces of the different components. Once again, this race taught me a lot about myself and exactly what I still need to do to become a better athlete.

I also got to catch up with some old friends and see others cheering on the side of the road, and it reminded me of what a long journey this has been—not only just for this World Champs cycle but stretching back to when I first started in triathlon years ago.

Unwavering Gratitude: My True Champion

There are so many thank you's, and to everyone who participated, supported, or helped in any way: Thank you. I truly couldn't have done it without you.

But I want to take this moment to thank the most important person in my life: Candice. Without your unwavering support, your love, your care, and your presence at every single race—from the local 70.3's to the full Ironman and now the World Champs—there is absolutely no way that I could have done this without you. You are the rock that lets me fly.

I love you, I appreciate you, and I hope I made you proud.

And Finally: The Empower 5 Challenge Continues

As the World Champs dust settles and the curtain starts to draw on 2025, it's time to talk about the real finish line: the Empower 5 Challenge.

Although we didn't quite hit that ambitious target of 1000 teachers this year, let's celebrate a massive win: we have empowered over 750 teachers with access to professional development, helping them become better educators in their classrooms. That is an enormous success!

And although 2025 is drawing to an end, it simply means 2026 is coming, and the Empower 5 Challenge continues. The race calendar for next year is already set, and, I can tell you now, it is even tougher than this year's schedule. There's a reason for that: I am even more driven to get more teachers empowered!

Again, thank you to all those individuals and corporates that have taken up the challenge this year—I hope you will be willing to join the fight again next year. And to all those who haven't yet taken the challenge, let's make 2026 the year you do!

Onwards and upwards!

So, once again, I'm reaching out. If you're an individual or a company already donating to schools and making a difference, or if you simply want to make an impact, please come on board! You can donate, sponsor us, use your social spend, or even use your FNB eBucks to help, 2026 is your year to take up the challenge and make a difference. You'll be hearing from me.

You can follow me and the empower 5 challenge on social media, or find out more at: www.empower5.com