Every Race Has a Story
Ironman 70.3 Sri Lanka - Colombo, February 2026
Every race has a story.
For Ironman 70.3 Sri Lanka, the headline story will probably be the wildlife sightings - the sort of thing that makes for great Instagram content. But for me, the real story was something quieter.
This race was always going to be a "racecation". My daughter Romy has taken up residence on Sri Lanka’s south coast, so it was a great opportunity to combine racing with some much-needed downtime.
Sri Lanka has history on the Ironman calendar. Older editions had gained a reputation - potholed roads, stray animals, tuk-tuks, narrow sections, oppressive heat and humidity. It was one of those races where you go in knowing: this is going to hurt.
So the mindset was simple - if you know it’s going to hurt, prepare to suffer well.
Race Morning
Heavy rain overnight made the first lap of the three-lap bike course slightly hazardous. We were set off three at a time, five seconds apart.
Transition had a few familiar Dubai faces - always reassuring when racing abroad.
The bike course delivered exactly what had been promised: street dogs wandering close to the road, tuk-tuk fumes, the occasional car, narrow stretches, damp tarmac. And yet - it was fast.
I came off the bike in joint first in my age group. We even rolled into T2 chatting.
At that point, it felt like the day might unfold smoothly.
It didn’t.
When the Real Race Begins
The run was two laps of heat and humidity. No wall - just sustained pressure.
At 12km the arthritis in my left knee flared badly. Sharp. Restrictive. Unignorable.
I thought I had broken my competitor.
The only thing that broke was my knee.
The run became a run-walk. Then it became chunking - landmark to landmark.
Normally 5km takes 30 minutes. At that pace, it was heading toward 40. The podium was evaporating as quickly as the rainwater on the roads.
This is the point in a race where the real story starts.
In those moments, a few voices were in my head.
A message Brett Sutton gave his athletes when I was in Saint Moritz completing my coaching course - it’s not about avoiding the struggle, it’s about how you handle it when it comes.
Els Visser leading Ironman Vitoria-Gasteiz with a record bike split, only to find herself walking at 20km of the marathon. She dropped to fifth but fought back to finish third. The next day Brett made her ride the bike course again - for "giving up".
My own athlete, Hisham Al Khattab, developing severe knee pain 2km into the half marathon in Muscat 70.3 last week - and finishing anyway.
Caroline Bridges at Challenge Sir Bani Yas in 2024 - a mental crash at 5km, sitting on the side of the road for two minutes watching everyone pass. Then getting up and finishing the job.
And a phrase from my first year at university:
"Once you quit once, it becomes easier to quit the next time."
So it became step by step. Chunk by chunk. Two kilometres to go.
Walking off the course was never an option.
I crossed the line and then spent two hours dealing with the worst cramp spasms I’ve ever had.
Marginal Gains
There are always lessons.
A simple sweatband under the helmet would have stopped sweat dripping into my eyes.
Calf aero sleeves might have saved a few seconds.
The new TriRig aero bottle worked well and was easy to use. The Omius cap gave genuine relief from the heat. I fuelled with BIGr Endurance - over 100g of carbs in a 600ml bottle - because in those conditions hydration wasn’t optional.
Small details matter. Especially when the margins are thin.
Perspective
Good memories of a struggle well fought.
And I have to add - what an amazing person my wife is.
Apart from leaving the carefully prepared bag of carb drinks in the hotel room on race morning (cue sheer panic… hers, not mine), she stayed calm, helped a spectator who had suffered an epileptic fit before race start, encouraged her struggling athlete and calmly supervised in the med tent like a grade-one nurse. She only forgot to take photos.
Racing is individual.
Endurance is not.
By David Hunt certified TriSutto coach