Kona Ironman World Championships race review

In October 2025 I had the massive privilege to race the Ironman World Championships, having qualified at the Leeds Ironman a few months ago. The race itself was really challenging. But the beauty and energy of the Big Island made it a week to remember and treasure.

What was the Kona Ironman 2025 World Championships like?

I knew the race would be tough, and it certainly lived up to its reputation.

Emerging from the swim

On paper it’s an easy race – warm sea swim, 180km bike with an average gradient of about 2% and never more than 5%, and a rolling run.

But then you add in the power of the Island – it’s heat and the wind, and it’s a very different proposition.

The swim was much choppier than they’d forecast, but that didn’t bother me too much. I didn’t see dolphins on my swim, but lots of others did.

The Kona Ironman World Championship bike course

The bike was hard, very hard. I prefer a more technical course which breaks up the monotony, but this was mostly just up and down a freeway. The lava fields are amazing but dont offer a lot of variety.

Thanking my friends for their support

There were some beautiful bays and brilliant volunteers, and the occasional pocket of supporters waving from junctions or the roadside. But apart from that (and the odd waft of roadkill!) there wasn’t much to distract from the relentlessness of just turning one pedal stroke after another with the heat beating down.

Usually, I race to power, but today my power target was more of an upper limit. With the heat, I used heart rate and feel to guide me – if it felt too hard, it was. This was all about the long game, making sure I didn’t blow up before the run.

The longest climb is up to the turnaround point at Hawi. The gradient never goes above a few percent, but the headwind made it feel endless. I treated myself to a quick toilet stop at the top – the joy of not pedalling for a few minutes – then reapplied eye drops and suncream and off again.

The way back down should have been faster, but my body had had enough. The heat was relentless, my feet were on strike, they just didn’t want to push down for another stroke, and every part of my body seemed to join the protest.

I kept repeating my five fingers of gratitude – and it really did lift my spirits – but even gratitude couldn’t convince my feet to play along! But whilst willing the bike to be over, I knew the run could be much worse!

The powerful crosswinds meant there was no relaxing on the descents and sometimes it was easier to keep pedalling rather than go into an aero tuck, even though it was actually slower.

By the last hour, I was so tired (I hadn’t slept properly all week) that I genuinely considered stopping for a nap at the roadside – only the thought of the red-hot tarmac stopped me!

Having started in the last wave, I’d spent most of the race overtaking people, but in that final stretch I was overtaken by about five women. But there was no point chasing – I’d only pay for it on the run.

Finally back into town – colour, noise, supporters to wake up my mind, and the huge boost of seeing my boyfriend and friends.

The Kona Ironman World Championship run course

Then onto the run. Given how the bike had felt, I’d expected to be walking from the start.

Still smiling at the beginning of the run

Passing some of the beautiful beaches on the run

But the first lap through town actually felt surprisingly good – beautiful bays, plenty of support, and things to keep my mind busy.

But all too soon we were climbing back up on the highway we’d just cycled down, and a long slow 30k plod, punctuated only by the aid stations.

I soon fell into a routine: spot the sea of orange volunteer shirts ahead, wake my brain up, start walking, get ready to fill water bottle, fill a cloth with ice and tuck down the back of my neck, more water, bit more walking, back to running.

The run breaks neatly into four sections:

• 10k through town

• 10k along the highway - nothing but aid stations and a few magical DJ tents

• 10k through the Energy Lab – a lava-filled park infamous for its heat, even after sunset

• and the final 10k back down the highway back to town

The first half was ok, but by 20k I was not happy – sick, heavy, and drained. Just after we turned into the Energy Lab, I was sick a few times but felt so much better afterwards! I could even enjoy the change in scenery and the sunset over the sea.

By the time we climbed back out, it was pitch black. I had a little clip-on light, and to be honest, preferred the darkness – the highway looked less bleak when you couldn’t see it.

A supporter running alongside us updated his friend on the pro race - Lucy Charles Barclay and Taylor Knibb had both been pulled out with heat exhaustion just before the finish. Another reason to keep it steady!

My stomach wasn’t happy again, so I ditched the gels and switched my aid station routine to water, ice (yes, it was still that hot even after the sun had set!), coke, water – and lots more walking.

I’d told myself I would pick up the pace at 5k to go – “just a parkrun!”  But instead everything began to pack up - all I could manage was shuffle. I didn’t consider giving up. I don’t think I considered much.

I reminded myself that I was running on the course I had spent the last eight years reading about. This was me running on the Queen K, about to run down Ali'i Drive! I zombie shuffled on.

The Kona Ironman World Championship finish line

Then finally back into town – bright lights, people shouting, I could hear the finish line but cruelly we carried on beyond it, voices fading, until eventually we looped back onto the main road towards the finish.

Coming down the finish chute

Coming under the finish arch

Left, right, left, right. Walk, shuffle, run.

I heard my friends shout my name but couldn’t see them. All I could do was focus on the arch ahead.

Keep. Moving. Forwards. Arm up. Done.

The finish line blur was a surreal mix of exhaustion and kindness – volunteers everywhere, steadying us, wrapping towels round our shoulders, offering water, medals, food.

There was a banquet laid out that I couldn’t even looked at but I collapsed gratefully with slices of watermelon. Then a quick shower, chaffing everywhere but finally free of the layers of sweat.

And then out into the arms of my boyfriend waiting outside. Done.

The all important medal photo

Finally over the finish line

So in summary – hard, hard, hard.

Would I do it again? God no!

Am I glad I did it? 100% yes. It was everything it promised to be and more.

And whilst my race write up might not sound that positive, because quite frankly it wasn’t, the experience was so much more than just the race.

Would I change anything? Probably not (other than not forgetting my nutrition, see below). I listened to my body. I'd trained my nutrition. I'd done as much as I could to train for the challenges of the course in the few months since I qualified. I'd done a tonne of heat training.

In short I'd done what I could but a few months of training in September in Yorkshire can never really prepare you for what the Island throws at you (and had I qualified any earlier I dont think I'd have wanted to spend any more on that sort of training!).

So now onto the highs:

The energy of the last all women’s race at Kona:

• It was a massive honour and privilege to be part of the community of the last all women’s race on the Island (if you’re curious about this check out this brilliant Feisty podcast). There’s something so special about racing with other women – the camaraderie and energy, the support and lack of egos on the course, and not feeling like you’re the dregs left over at the end of the race when the faster men have finished.

• The support from all you guys, friends, clubs, and everyone who messaged me before and after was amazing. It really does make a difference, so thank you.

• I’ll be forever grateful to my amazing boyfriend and friends who, when I got to the race start and realised I’d forgotten my race day nutrition (yes really!), set up a tag team to run back up the hill to our appartment to pick it up and get it back to me seconds before transition shut.  

• I’ll also add forgetting my nutrition as a plus. I certainly wouldn’t recommend it, but it focused my mind beyond any other stress and left me feeling very calm once it was all sorted!

• Meeting up with friends old and new sharing this amazing race

The beauty of the Big Island

The bay where we swam was full of tropical fish, and dolphins often joined in with practice swims. The flowers, birds, and banyan trees were stunning. I didn’t see much beyond that (resting up pre-race!) but my friends’ adventures and photos – swimming with turtles and manta rays and exploring lava fields – look magical.

(I had a short swim with turtles and some beautiful tropical fish the day after the race until we were ordered out of the water because there was a shark in the bay!)

The food and the friendliness and chilled out Island vibe of all the people we met and in all the bars was next level.

The race highs

The race itself was probably more lows than highs, but there were also some definite highs:

The start line for the swim was a moving line of paddle boarders sculling along on their tummies then circling at the end to come back the other way. Something about it really tickled me and put me in a great mood at the start.

I didn’t see any dolphins on my swim but lots of others did and what a joy to know they were part of my race morning.

The volunteers were next-level amazing. Every single one was so supportive and full of energy. And despite long, empty stretches of course, there were always a few lone supporters out there shouting encouragement. If I ever got a tattoo, it might just say “Good job.”

And the finish area was a magical chill-out land of lights and giant flowers. Had I not been so shattered (and desperate to see my friends!) I’d love to have stayed longer.

And so I am done. I had said before Leeds I would never do another Ironman. I had to change my mind on that one. But I am definitely not changing my mind now, very glad I have done it, but never again!

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Want to hear more about my Kona experiences? That's probably enough for most of you!

But I'll be doing an informal 'show and tell' session for those in my Membership (for female runners and triathletes of all levels) when I'm back. Give me a shout (lucy@feelfitwithlucy.co.uk) if you want to know more).