Kona 2025 – A Journey I'll Never Forget - Adelle Worsley

Ironman number two for me was the biggest of them all, the big dance on the Big Island.

My prep was going great: I was consistent in TrainingPeaks, feeling strong, and everything was coming together. But three weeks out, I rolled my ankle. I couldn’t run it off, and deep down, I knew I was in trouble. A scan and a few physio visits later, I ended up having a steroid injection to give myself the best shot at making it to the start line. That meant no training for a few days post-injection—and no running until race day in Kona.

Mentally, it was one of the hardest parts. When I should have been peaking, I was doing nothing. It took so much discipline not to train during those crucial final days. Honestly, I thought the race might not even happen—or that I’d just end up doing a swim-bike only. But a pep talk from my better half and the gaffer helped keep me grounded.

Arriving in Kona

After a couple of long travel days, I landed in Kona. I unpacked my bike and went out early the next morning for a ride on the legendary Queen K. As I pulled out of the hotel, the first person I saw was Kat Matthews running up Ali'i Drive. In my broad Northern accent, I said, “Morning Kat! Ya alright?” She gave a little wave and said hello back. I was buzzing.

I won’t lie—I was nervous heading out on my own, but once I figured out the road layout and intersections, I relaxed. In that moment, I decided to let go of the disappointment around my injury and just soak up and take it all in. I even took a dip in the sea—it felt surreal. I'd seen this place so many times on screen, and now I was swimming there.

The next day I was back out on the bike and starting to feel really good. As I was riding, I heard a beep-beep and a hello from Mhairi—it was amazing to see her and Mason drive past.

 Later, I realized I was staying near India Lee and had a brief chat with her and Rosie. You always want to say hello, but also respect that they’re in full race prep mode. Still, the pros I came across were super friendly, and I couldn’t help but think how cool their lifestyle must be.

At the practice swim, I met up with Becca—it was the first time we were all together. All the pros jumped in first, and we found ourselves at the very back. For once, I was actually overtaking people on the swim! I just enjoyed myself, watching the fish and cruising along. It’s probably the first time I’ve ever come out of a swim smiling.

Still not really able to run, I went out on the Queen K again—this time away from traffic for another ride. I was feeling more confident now. Women were flying past me, I was passing others, and we all gave each other that knowing nod or wave.

Then something surreal happened. I found myself riding near Laura Philipp, the reigning World Champion. She had just finished a session and spotted me—and asked for a photo! When she was done, I went over for a quick chat. She was lovely. I wished her well for race day, and she did the same for me.

Finally, I tried a short run. I was hoping for the best, but after just a few strides, I knew it would be a long, painful run/walk. It was frustrating, but I had to accept it. There was no way I wasn’t going to give it a go.

The boss kept the message simple: No time pressure. Just enjoy it. Do what you can to get that medal.

Throughout the week, I kept reminding myself how grateful I was just to be there. Becky was with me and this being the last women-only Kona it felt special.

Time to rack our bikes. I met up with Becca and Mhairi, and we went in together as a team. Seeing the pier all set up for race day was incredible. The usual pre-race faffing—bags on racks, memorising the route—it all hit home. We wouldn't have access to our bags on race morning, so everything had to be spot on.

I’ve spent so many turbo sessions watching Kona races. Now I was here. How f***ing cool is that?

Race Day

3:00 AM—Up and weirdly calm. Big breakfast, coffee, then off to the start.

It was pouring rain when I stepped outside—exactly what I’d been hoping for during the race, but it had arrived early. I hugged Becky and my dad before heading into transition. It’s a long walk around the back, and on the way, I bumped into Becca and Mhairi.  We took a selfie with Bob Babbitt from Breakfast with Bob as we were walking to our bikes.

Tyres checked, lube applied, sunscreen on—we were ready. As the anthems played, we shared a hug it was emotional moment before heading to our pens.

 Something bit me on the bottom of my foot (of course it did), but it was too late to worry about it.

In the water, I messed with my watch (forgot how to use it!) and then swam to the start. I spotted Becky on the pier. The countdown began.

Swim – 2.4 Miles of Magic

I found myself at the back of the mass start—far from ideal—but I just went with it. Got kicked a few times, swam over a few others, but the waves and swell were incredible. The water was 27°C, fish everywhere… and then—dolphins! Unreal.

I thought about breaking away from the group I was with but reminded myself it was a long day. We actually worked well together. On the way back, it felt like I wasn’t moving. People were getting pulled from the water, but I chose to focus on the fish and stay calm. When I finally hit the beach, I had no idea how long it took as my watch was doing crazy things. 

Transition took me 8 minutes probably a bit too long but the waves, the swell and the salt water had hit me, I was sick as soon as I bent to put on my shoes. I never thought much of it though took on a gell and headed out onto the bike.

Bike – 112 Miles of Battle

You really had to concentrate during the first section, as there were so many bikes at the start. We made our way through the crowds, then briefly went behind a supermarket before looping back around. The first out-and-back was a bit slow, but I managed a wave to the family as I headed out onto the Queen K.

I actually thought there was quite a bit of drafting going on, but I never saw a referee anywhere. I felt great to begin with, taking on plenty of fluids—grabbing at least two bottles of water from every aid station to cool off. I was being sick, but I felt like I was still taking in enough to keep going. I stuck to my nutrition plan, taking carbs every 30 minutes.

Then, all of a sudden, the roads got bumpy—and f**ing hell*—I dropped my gel bottle about 40 miles in. I told myself, "It’s okay, Dell, just use the aid stations." I had some chews with me, but they’d gotten wet.

As I made my way towards the Hāwī turnaround, I expected it to come just after 56 miles for some reason—but it didn’t come until around mile 64 That’s when I hit my first real mental low. The headwind was brutal, the sun was blazing, I was still being sick, and I had nothing left to replace what I was losing. The turnaround just never seemed to come.

Then I spotted Taylor Knibb coming the other way—more specifically, I noticed her colourful bike—followed shortly by Lucy. That gave me the kick I needed. I was looking out for Kat and Laura, but never saw them. At that point, Taylor and Lucy had a massive lead. I was trying to pay attention, but honestly can’t remember seeing anyone else riding back the other way.

On my way back, I spotted Becca—we shouted to each other, which was awesome. I looked for Mhari too, but never saw her.

The Morton hydration was just repeating on me and coming straight back up, so I knew I had to try something different. I forced down the mushy chews—that was about 60g of carbs. I had salt tablets, and then turned to full-fat Coke, ha! I was still being sick, but not as frequently, so I stuck with it.

By this point, I had gone well past the time I wanted to be on the bike and was hoping to see some of the pros on their run. I didn’t spot Lucy, but I remember seeing a slow-moving Taylor. I was so glad to finally reach the turn onto the famous Palani  Road—it still felt special, even though I felt absolutely awful.

Run – 26.2 Miles of Grit

Through transition, I never actually took my helmet off — you’re meant to leave it on your bike, so a volunteer took it off for me. They handed me a towel, which I wrapped around my neck to cool down, and then covered me in sunscreen as I put my trainers on. It ended up being another 8-minute transition for me, but I was trying to take in some of the extra nutrients I had packed in my bag and make sure my pockets were full of salt tabs and gels. I’d put it all in a food bag to make it easy to grab and sort.

The run is usually the part I love — but my ankle still wasn’t right. I knew I hadn’t consumed enough on the bike, and my head was bouncing again, starting to wobble. I spotted Becky as I was heading out, and I broke down a bit. I don’t know why — I was just worried I wasn’t going to make it. I was dehydrated, confused, and hot.

Off down Ali’i Drive — it was full of people encouraging us. I wasn’t even a mile in before I had to walk. I had a little cry at that point, but I knew I had to take my gel, take on fluids, and just put one foot in front of the other. So many amazing people were cooling us off with hose pipes. I slowly found a bit of a shuffle, and I stuck with it.

I gave Becca a high five as we passed each other, and then I spotted Becky and my dad again — one last time before the long slog out on the Queen K.

"Just keep doing what you’re doing!" they shouted — and that’s exactly what I did.

Normally, I run between aid stations, but this time was different. I used the cones as markers: “Adelle, run six cones before you walk.” That’s what I did, over and over, until about mile 12. I was getting ice and water thrown on me at every aid station, but even though the sun was hot, I started to feel cold — which felt crazy. I had to start saying "no ice."

The out-and-backs on this course really played with me mentally — the roads just seem to go on and on, with no visible end, and you know you’re going to run back the same way. I spotted Mhari for the first time — high five — and then I was on the final stretch. As the sun started to set, I actually stopped for a moment to watch it go down. It felt amazing.

Then I realized I had 10 minutes until it was pitch black — ha!

I started counting miles one at a time, using traffic lights now as my markers. It’s crazy how your mind breaks things down just to get through it.

Then I heard the sound — the finish line.

The turn onto Palani Drive — at that point, I knew I’d cracked it. I tried to pick it up a bit, but the cramp in my quads was unreal. It didn’t matter though, because I was on Ali’i Drive. I went over a tracker and I knew Becky would know I was almost home.

The emotion takes over at that point.

Then you spot the famous flags at the start of the long red carpet. High fives all around. Up the ramp — and GET IN THERE!!  I knew exactly where Becky and my dad would be standing, and I looked straight at them as I crossed the line.

It was the best feeling ever, so crazy to actually be there. I am one very lucky lady.

The time wasn’t what I pictured, and it was not the race mapped out in my head — but there was a quote that went around in my mind all day from Kat Matthews

“A successful Kona race is to finish — and to finish in a way that makes you proud.”

I can now say I am so proud of everything this race threw at me — and everything it taught me. I wanted the course to be brutal to the true Kona legacy and it was just that and so much more. 

Getting that huge, heavy medal around my neck — that’s the most emotional I’ve ever been.

Thank you to everyone who supported me. I truly couldn’t have done this on my own