World Championship Nizza
IRONMAN World Championship – Nice
Just being on the start line in Nice already felt like a huge achievement this season. Getting here was one of my big goals, and although my fitness has improved a lot over the year, I know I still need more work to truly keep up with the best in the world.
Everything went according to plan in the lead-up. My taper worked perfectly, and three days before the race my speed really came alive: swimming faster than ever, pushing high watts on the bike with ease, and running at race pace while feeling relaxed.
One hour before the start I was incredibly nervous – more than I had ever been, even more than before the Olympics. Probably because, for the first time in a long time, I felt truly fit in all three disciplines. And because this race meant so much to me after climbing back from rock bottom.
I knew I had to line up close to Jamie and Schomburg, both lightning-fast starters. I’m quick off the line too, but my real strength is in the second half of the swim.
The horn went, and I exploded forward. Jamie was slightly ahead, but I managed to stay right on his wave. After only 50 meters, it was just the two of us at the front. I tucked in behind him to save energy, but it wasn’t easy – the whole swim felt like a grind, every stroke demanded effort.
Around 2.5–3 km in, I moved to the front and pushed the pace towards the exit. We had created a small gap on the chase group, and I felt strong coming out of the water.
Transition was chaos – the crowd was deafening, but I just focused on my suit, my helmet, and catching the Schomburg-train out onto the bike.
The legs felt great at first. I could follow the front group without going too deep, and my numbers looked good. But already on the first ramp, I realized how tough the day would be. Marten, Jamie, and Jonas hit the hill hard. I was at 500 watts and knew I couldn’t go with them. It was only 15 km into a very long day, so I chose to ride with Stratmann instead.
Then came the big climb. The pace in the group was brutal. At first I managed, but then my legs just emptied. My power dropped, and I had to sprint repeatedly just to hold speed. By the final section of the climb, I was done. My heart rate plummeted to 130, and I found myself just cruising, powerless to respond.
For the next three hours it was pure survival. Riders streamed past, and I fought just to reach T2. By the flat section at the end, I was barely pushing 200 watts. I knew finishing the race seemed almost impossible.
But then I saw the spectators. Cheering, clapping – even though I was at the back. And then I saw my parents, my girlfriend, and her dad. Their smiles and excitement lit me up. In that moment, I decided: I’m going to put on my shoes and at least see how the run feels.
At first, I could barely walk off the bike. My back was so tight I had to stop and stretch. But after a few stretches I managed to jog, and within two minutes I glanced at my watch: 3:25/km pace. That couldn’t be right! I eased up, but still found myself at 3:35–3:40/km.
The crowd in Nice was incredible. Every lap they pushed me forward, and every time I saw my family on the course it gave me new energy. For the first 15–20 km, I felt in control, running smoothly.
But just like on the bike, the fatigue came. Slowly, my muscles started shutting down. I know from marathons that the first half must feel easy, because the second half will always be brutal. And today, the last 20 km were exactly that. My legs locked up, the pain intensified, and my pace dropped to around 4:25/km – normally an easy long run pace, but today it felt like a wall.
Still, I kept going. Step by step, station by station, until finally the finish line came into sight. Crossing it, I was overwhelmed with relief and pride.
This was my first Ironman World Championship, and I promised myself beforehand that whatever happened, I would finish. On the bike, I had mentally given up. But my family turned it around for me. They reminded me why I was here, why I fight, and why I keep pushing forward.
The result wasn’t what I dreamed of, but finishing meant everything. It was proof that I’m still on the way up – and that I’m not done yet.
