Ironman Stories: Return to Thun

There are moments in life that test you physically, mentally and emotionally far beyond what you ever thought was possible.

For me, that moment was Ironman Thun in Switzerland in 2022 which was my very first Ironman.

And not just any Ironman, one of the most beautiful but same time toughest courses you could choose. Surrounded by the breathtaking Swiss mountains, the race came with endless climbs, brutal elevation and conditions that demanded everything as it was the heat wave in Europe with 36 degrees but at that time, I didn’t fully understand what “everything” truly meant.

I had trained for months. Early mornings, long rides, endless runs. Sacrifices nobody really sees. Like every first-time Ironman athlete, I carried excitement, fear, and a dream that felt almost impossible: hearing those words at the finish line “You are an Ironman”

Here we are at race morning and something didn’t feel right.

At breakfast, I couldn’t eat. My stomach completely rejected food. Even standing at the start line, holding a simple banana in my hand, my body refused it. Nervousness, I thought. Maybe just race-day anxiety. So I stepped into the water with almost nothing inside me, trying to convince myself that once the race started, everything would fall into place.

The swim actually went better than expected. I came out of the water faster than I had imagined and for a brief moment, I felt confident. I jumped onto the bike believing the hardest part was behind me.

But it was only beginning. As the kilometers passed through the mountains, I kept trying to eat, trying to fuel my body, but nothing stayed inside. Every sip, every bite felt impossible. Still, I pushed on. That is what I came for, convincing myself that pain is temporary. You keep moving because stopping feels worse.

But after around 140 kilometers on the bike, my body completely shut down. I had no energy left. No reserves. No power. I remember sitting there thinking,

This is it. I can’t continue. Trust me this was one of the hardest moments.

For a moment, I seriously considered ending my race right there. Months of preparation, all leading to this point, collapsing in the middle of the mountains with still one huge climb ahead but something inside me refused to quit entirely. After a short break, I somehow found enough strength to continue pedaling and finish the full 180-kilometer bike course.

And then came the hardest decision of all.

The run was waiting for me which is normally my strongest discipline. The part where I usually feel alive. But this time was different. I knew something was deeply wrong. I wasn’t just exhausted. I was broken.

So I made the painful decision not to start the marathon.

I cannot describe the feeling of disappointment in that moment. My friends and family had traveled there to support me. They were waiting at the finish line, expecting to see me cross it after this incredible journey. Instead, I had to tell them I could not continue.

That hurt more than the race itself.

Back at the hotel, I collapsed into bed feeling completely destroyed, feverish, weak and empty. I checked my temperature. 39 degrees.

Then reality hit me.

I had raced an Ironman with COVID.

Suddenly, everything made sense. Why I couldn’t eat. Why my body shut down. Why every kilometer felt impossible. For the first time that day, I stopped blaming myself.

But even in that moment of defeat, lying in that hotel room, I made myself a promise:

“I will be back” and I will finish what I started.

That promise stayed with me for two years.

Two years of carrying unfinished business in my heart. Two years of remembering the pain of walking away. 2 years of looking at my swiss Ironman clothes I bought not able to wear them as I didn’t felt I deserve it to wear them yet but also two years of growing stronger physically and mentally. I trained harder, smarter and with a completely different mindset. This time, it was no longer just about completing an Ironman.

It was about proving to myself that failure is never the end unless you allow it to be.

In July 2024, I returned to Thun.

Same mountains. Same course. Same memories but I was no longer the same person.

Standing at the start line again was emotional beyond words. Every corner of that course reminded me of what happened two years earlier. But instead of fear, I carried determination. I knew pain, I knew disappointment and because of that, I also knew how badly I wanted redemption.

Step by step, Kilometer by kilometer, Climb after climb.

This time, my body responded. My mind stayed strong and when I finally entered the finish line chute, hearing the crowd, seeing the lights, feeling the energy around me — everything became emotional.

Crossing that finish line gave me the biggest goosebumps I have ever felt in my life.

Not because I finished an Ironman.

But because I came back after failing.

Because I kept the promise I once made to myself in a small hotel room when nobody else was watching.

Ironman taught me something I will carry forever:

Sometimes life will stop you, break you and humble you in ways you never expect. But failing once does not define your story. What defines you is having the courage to return, to fight again and to finish what you started.

And that finish line became far more than a medal.

It became proof that resilience always wins.

Now I have a new mission. “Mission Kona”

Follow me on my way

Biggest thanks to my coach and the No Limits gang 

Marco