Letting Go
Today is the 18th of June 2025.
It’s been 269 days since the Ironman World Championship in Nice. Two hundred and sixty-nine days.
A long time since race day, and if I want to fully move on, I need to write this down. I’ve carried the weight of this chapter for far too long , the pressure, the shame, the overthinking. This post has been sat in my drafts for months ….
The Roll-Down Moment
When I accepted my roll-down slot for the Ironman World Championship in Nice 2024, I felt everything all at once. Shock. Nerves. A bit of excitement. But mostly, pressure. And that pressure stayed with me for an entire year.
I had just finished Ironman Chattanooga ‘23 in 15 hours. It was my fourth Iron-distance race, and I did it solo. From packing my bike to walking into athlete briefing alone, I handled everything myself. I felt proud of that. It wasn’t fast, but it was solid, and I had done what I set out to do.
The next morning at the athlete breakfast, they called my name. I said yes straight away. I posted about it openly. I didn’t pretend. I was genuinely excited.
The Year That Nearly Broke Me
But the backlash came quickly. People said I didn’t deserve it. That I was too slow. That it was embarrassing. I tried to ignore it, but the words stuck. They lived rent-free in my head through every run, every ride, every swim.
What followed was a full year of pressure. Not a training block. Not a season. A whole year of trying to prove I belonged. Every session felt like it had to count. Every rest day felt like guilt. I thought if I just trained harder, or leaned up, or pushed through more pain, maybe I’d finally feel worthy of that slot.
And somewhere along the way, I stopped enjoying it. I told people I do this for fun — but 2024 wasn’t fun.
It was heavy. Lonely. At times, miserable. I had fallouts with people I care about — friends, family, even my coach. I became closed off. Tense. Constantly on edge. And deep down, I felt completely alone.
Race Week in Nice
Nice should have felt like a reward. The scenery, the energy, the ocean , it was all beautiful. But I couldn’t enjoy it properly. I was exhausted and anxious. It felt like everything I had carried all year was peaking in that one week.
Then came race day.
A PB, a Crash, and a Hard Call
Surprisingly, I had a great swim. It was my first ocean swim, and I swam a personal best. For a few moments, I actually felt strong again.
Then came the bike. The climbs were tough, the descents sharp , and I crashed.
I don’t even fully remember what happened. One minute I was riding. The next, I was on the ground. Bleeding. Bruised. Shaken. A medic helped clean me up and asked if I wanted to stop. I said no. I got back on and kept going.
Eventually, at the next checkpoint, I knew I couldn’t continue. My body was done. I got taken to the medical tent where they properly cleaned me up and made sure I was okay.
I didn’t finish.
Relief in the Heartbreak
It still hurt. But there was also this strange sense of relief. The pressure finally snapped. I no longer had to prove anything. The year-long weight I’d been carrying had finally lifted , even if it came at a cost.
For months afterward, I kept questioning it all. Did I waste the slot? Was everyone right? Am I just not good enough?
A Conversation That Shifted Everything
Earlier this week, I spoke to a colleague about all of it for the first time in a while. He listened without judgment. And he reminded me of something I hadn’t seen clearly in a long time.
He said no one can take away what I’ve done. That getting to Nice was still an achievement. That I should look back on how far I’ve come , not just where I stopped.
And he’s right.
Choosing to Close the Chapter
I trained through doubt. I showed up. I got back on the bike after crashing. I made the hard call when I needed to. That takes strength too.
This wasn’t the fairytale finish I imagined. But it’s still my story.
And today, I’m choosing to let go. I’m choosing to stop carrying the guilt and the what-ifs. I’m choosing to believe that showing up, even imperfectly, still matters.
I didn’t cross the finish line in Nice.
But this isn’t where my story ends.
I’m still here , still showing up.
And you haven’t seen the last of me.
Love ,
Gabi x
