Ironman 70.3 Little Elm 2026: My First Half Ironman Race Recap!
I owe y’all a race recap for IRONMAN 70.3 Little Elm! I wrote a race recap for myself, but I never got anything up on my blog…and it’s been an entire month since the race!
What can I say about this race? Hmmm.. I think it took me a bit longer to wrap my head around a race recap because I had really mixed feelings afterward.
After two AWESOME races (both of my most recent half marathons) where I felt nothing but amazing, it was weird to finish a race and feel so unsettled afterward. I mean, the swim leg was entirely cancelled. And while it wasn’t my choice to not do the swim, it kind of made me feel like I was, I don’t know…cheating or something? I mean, it wasn’t a full triathlon because it was just a bike and a run.
In many ways, it was a bummer of a day. I’m very happy with how I responded to all of the curve balls, and I definitely want to/plan to do another Ironman 70.3 in my future. But it wasn’t the “rah rah” happy ending to the race I necessarily craved.
IRONMAN 70.3 Little Elm Race Recap
So at my 35th birthday, I signed up for an Ironman 70.3 for one simple reason: I wanted to know if I liked it! Haha. That was it. I wanted a big, slightly scary goal, and the Half Ironman distance is something I’ve always been curious about.
I’ve done sprint/Olympic distance triathlon, and I’ve run a lot of half marathons. But a 70.3 felt like a whole different category of challenge.
So I finally did it. It cost THOUSANDS of dollars all-in, from the race entry to getting a wetsuit, paying for pool access, purchasing a bike, all of the fuel, the running shoes…and I didn’t even purchase big ticket items like a triathlon coach, a power meter, or a super nice tri suit. I got most of my apparel on Poshmark. I borrowed my sister’s Garmin watch. And I didn’t use a bike computer. I found a used wetsuit that was a few years old.
It was also an insane time investment! Toward the end of the training cycle, my “short” workouts were 2 hours long. Once I added in a cool down, stretch, shower, and fuel, a workout could easily eat up 3 hours out of a random weekday.
Here’s my TL;DR recap, incase you don’t have time for this entire post:
It was one of the hardest, most humbling, most surprising experiences I’ve had in a long time. And one of the best ROI I’ve had in a long time.
My Goal For Ironman 70.3 Little Elm
It was never about the time for this race. I really wanted to just go in and experience it all.
Finish time: 5:20:37
Age Group: 13th out of 57
Overall Female: 86th out of 495
So going into this race, I wasn’t chasing a specific time or podium.
I just wanted to fully experience a 70.3 and walk away knowing: Is this something I want to do again?
Short answer: yes!
Long answer: If you want a longer “blog post answer” (haha) then grab a beverage, curl up, and get ready to read my Half Ironman race recap.
Day Before The Race
I loooove a race expo, but I could already tell from the expo that things were feeling different.
It was pretty windy! The sun was shining really brightly and it was a beautiful day. I didn’t want to be on my feet any longer than necessary, so I checked in my bike, walked through the transition area a few times to make sure I knew my way around, and walked down to the lake to check out the beach entrance for the swim.
There were a lot of athletes in the lake testing out the water temp and feel, but since I know swim is my strongest sport, I felt ok skipping that. Idk, but it’s just my “thing” for races…I don’t love doing a big warm up/shake out the day before.
I found a shady spot to sit down to listen to the 30 minute athlete briefing.
I was there with my mom, which was soooo nice. She’s done a bunch of half Ironman races (and even a full Ironman!) so I could ask her all my questions. And when I was thirsty and out of water, she told me, “sit down and stay in the shade and I’ll go out and look for water.”
She came back with both water and an Athletic Brewing n/a Lite. 🙂
Around 5:00 I went out to eat pasta with my mom and her triathlon group and then got home for an early bedtime.
Race Morning (and the first curveball)
Sleep was…not great (classic pre-race nerves).
But I actually woke up feeling calm and ready! I had my typical race-day breakfast (black coffee, plain bagel, a bit of peanut butter, banana, and Tailwind for some extra carbs + electrolytes.
I got to the race nice and early so I wouldn’t be panicked for time. Since this was the inaugural race, they hadn’t completely figured out parking and the line of athletes trying to get in to park was insane! Hopefully next year in 2027 they have this dialed in a bit better so athletes aren’t panicking!
(And I am sooo thankful my mom was there with me to drop me off near the entrance.)
The wind was absolutely insane. I mean, stuff was blowing all over the parking lot transition area! Craziness. I got my transition area all set up, exactly like I had practiced. I still felt pretty calm.
But while I was in line for the porta-potty I heard rumblings of a rumor:
“Did you hear that they’re going to cancel the swim because of the wind?”
My heart jumped and then dropped. Noooooo, don’t cancel the swim! That’s my strongest leg and the part I’m most excited to experience!
For the next half hour I killed some time, sitting and then stretching and all the while crossing my fingers and hoping the swim wasn’t cancelled.
And then…
The swim got cancelled. A race official announced it over the loud speakers so everyone in the parking lot transition area could hear. Half the athletes whooped and hollered, half the athletes groaned in defeat.
High winds made it unsafe, so just like that, my first-ever 70.3 became a bike + run.
I won’t sugar coat this or try to put a positive spin on it: I was SO bummed. I had been looking forward to racing in a wetsuit for the first time and getting that full experience. It had been such a big time + money investment to do this race, and not being able to participate in the entire 3-sport event felt like a major blow.
But this ended up being my first big lesson of the day:
You’ve got to pivot fast. Don’t waste energy wishing it were different.
I mean, There was nothing I could do about it, and spending time sulking wasn’t going to make the bike + run any more fun or succesful.
The Bike: Fun… Until It Wasn’t
Since there was no swim, we went straight into the bike.
We did a time trial start, which means that two athletes would start at a time ~ every 3-4 seconds.
(Side note: when I took my bike off the rack to get in line to start, I felt both tires just to double check and discovered I had gotten a flat tire! It must have happened right after I pumped my tires around 6 am and wheeled my bike over to my spot, I suppose? Thankfully the bike mechanics weren’t backed up and I was able to get it changed (they find a tiny microscopic shard of glass in it!) and I got back in line to start my race just 5 minutes later.)
And then we were off! Not the crazy big start with the National Anthem and the jump into a lake and the big loud starting gun…it was a lot more low-key, with a slow and gradual start, and a little “BEEP” every few seconds for the next athlete to begin.
The wind was at my back, but I started conservatively, riding with the tailwind at about 22-25 MPH and intentionally holding back to save my legs for the difficult ride home.
And for a while it felt great! I was literally grinning ear-to-ear for a lot of the bike course because I just felt like “omg I am soooo lucky to get to do this and I’m having so much fun!”
My fueling was dialed and all went according to plans:
- Tailwind + electrolytes
- Maurten bars
- Honey Stinger waffle
- Shot Bloks
It was my first race using bike aid stations, and I loved it. Y’all, it was so much fun! I felt like an absolute badass calling out what I need and grabbing bottles on the go. It was so fun.
And then…oof
We turned into the wind about halfway through the bike course, and you know when people say you “hit a wall?” It literally felt like my bike hit a wall. Like, I was FLYING for the first 25 miles, and then when I turned into the wind, it felt like my bike. just. wouldn’t. go.
There was one particular part – a really long, sunny stretch along the Dallas North Tollway – where that mean mean mean headwind just did not let up. So rude. I don’t have a power meter yet, so I was pacing off heart rate, and I was working HARD. I let me heart rate get as high as I could, knowing I needed to run a half marathon after the bike…
…But I’d look down and see… 9.5 MPH. It was embarrassing and demoralizing.
It was honestly the only point in the race where I wasn’t having fun. It felt endless, and that’s because I was going soooo slow. It was only about 10 really awful miles, but those 10 miles took me 2-3X longer than the previous 10 miles because of that dang wind!
I watched cyclist after cyclist pass me while I was giving everything I had just to keep moving forward.
And for a brief moment, I had the thought: I’m actually not 100% sure I want to finish this.
The thing that helped was that I kept reminding myself:
Everyone is dealing with this same wind. You’re not alone out here. I just kept going, and that’s about the only trick to it.
The wind made this bike course feel brutal, and it also made my bike finish time quite a bit slower than I was anticipating. Since I was spending more energy (time and effort) on the bike than I had calculated, I compensated by adding in some extra fuel. I grabbed a couple extra Maurten bars on the bike course, and instead of taking in 3 bottles of fluid I ended up drinking closer to 4 bottles.
The Saddle Situation (I need to fix this)
The final 15 miles of the bike were brutal.
Sure, I was out of the headwinds and had moved into a more manageable crosswind, but my saddle became so uncomfortable that I was constantly standing just to get relief. My sit bones felt completely bruised.
This was my longest bike ride (ever!), so I just didn’t know what it would feel like to bike 56 miles.
Turns out I need to invest in a better saddle.
Now I know!
The Run: A Whole New Level of Hard
I’ve run a lot of half marathons, so I was really excited for the run! But half marathon races typically start at 8 or 9 in the morning so you’re finished by 10 or 11 am.
If you’re knew to Ironman, I’m here to tell you that this 13.1 felt NOTHING like a half marathon road race.
Running 13.1 miles in the middle of the day, after 56 miles on the bike, with no shade was like a different sport that felt totally foreign to me.
Surprisingly, my legs had some power left and actually felt ok. So the biggest surprise wasn’t my legs – it was my body temperature. It felt SO hot in a way I’ve never experienced during a race before. Yes, the race was in March, but it was a sunny 80-degree day, which is a pretty hot racing temperature.
My body was overheating, so I adapted. (Sensing a theme to this race yet?)
At Ironman Little Elm (and I’m pretty sure at most Ironman 70.3 races!) they have aid stations at every single mile on the run. The volunteers at these aid stations are phenomenal! They’re cheering a encouraging and helping. There were so many people handing out ice, water, gels, electrolytes, and other fuel.
At every single aid station, I did the exact same routine, in the exact same order:
- Dump water on my head
- Ice down my kit
- Drink as many electrolytes as my stomach could handle (typically about 6 oz)
- Grab one more cup of ice on my way out of the aid station and shove that ice down my sports bra, drop it into my tri kit, put it inside my visor, or hold the ice in my hands and press it against my face
And finally around mile 4 or 5 my body cooled down.
^face is bright red, I have an entire cup of ice poured into my sports bra – it will melt within 8 minutes and I’ll grab another cup of ice at the next aid station – smiling because it ALWAYS makes me feel better to see my boys!
My legs felt okay, I got to high five my family members for the first time, and I started having fun again.
After the rough bike ride, I realized that I was going to finish this run strong, and that felt really good.
Oh, and one more thing! There were a few guys out there holding hoses with misting attachments, and the would spray down the athletes who were running by (if you wanted that.) Every time I went by one of those guys I was like “PICK ME!!!” and they would point the hose in my direction and that blast of cold water felt amazing! Sure, I got a little blister on the back of my heel from running in wet running shoes, but was 100% worth it because I think that really helped cool my body down so I could continue running instead of having to stop and walk.
A Fun Moment I Didn’t Expect
Near the end of the race, there was a man running alongside me. I’m pretty sure he was in the 65-70 age group.
You could tell immediately that this guy had done a lot of Ironmans. You know what I mean? Like, he was smiling, encouraging everyone, just fully enjoying the run.
We got to the final 200 meters and he looked at me and said:
“You’re going to sprint it in, right?”
I laughed and said,
“No… I’m already giving everything I have.”
But he didn’t really accept that answer, haha.
He just kept encouraging me, and picked up the pace slightly and trying to edge me on.
And when I rounded the final corner…
I realized he was right. I had just enough gas left in the tank for a fast finish.
I actually had a really fun sprint across the finish line that I wasn’t expecting. It was an awesome finish and such a fun gift at the end of a really hard race.
Here’s What Went Right
Ok, so clearly a LOT of things were kind of rough on this race day. No swim :(, a flat tire 5 minutes before the big, a crazy windy day with unprecedented headwinds.
BUT there were many things that went well, too!
Nutrition: absolutely nailed it. Booyah.
No GI issues, steady energy, and my strategy of adding more solid food on the bike made a HUGE difference.
Run: strong and steady, especially in the second half. I also figured out how to cool down my body without being able to utilize shade.
Mental game: most proud of this part. I adapted and I didn’t spiral when things got hard.
Always always always thankful for my big, supportive family. I smiled so big whenever I saw my husband, sons, sisters, brother-in-law, nephew, parents, and aunt. They all drove out to Little Elm to show support for my first Half Ironman, which is insane! They’re absolutely wonderful humans. I love how my family shows up for one another.
And my boys got snow cones during the race! So…win!!
Here’s What I Learned (The Biggest Takeaways)
This race clearly taught me a lot, but if you want to read the CliffsNotes version, here are the biggest lessons I learned from my first Ironman 70.3:
1. Personally, the bike is where I have the most room to grow
Not a huge shock. I’m still new to cycling, and it showed, especially in tough conditions like headwinds.
2. Heat management is EVERYTHING
That cooling routine on the run completely changed my race! I think this is pretty critical to anyone racing a Half Ironman in a hot state, like Texas. If I hadn’t worked so hard on cooling down my body (the ice, the big gulps of electrolytes, running through the misting hoses, etc) I’m pretty sure my run time would have been at least 20 minutes slower.
3. You can feel terrible… and still finish strong
The lowest point of my race (that headwind stretch) didn’t define the outcome. The finish still felt incredible.
So… Do I Like the 70.3 Distance?
This was the whole point of the entire thing, and the answer is…
Yes!!
I mean, I don’t love it because it was easy (or even fun) the whole time. I love it because of the lessons learned, the experience I had, the ways the process changed me.
Any athlete will tell you that the lessons you learn in training and races are also applicable to real life, and that has never been more true than when I decided to sign up for a Half Ironman. This race taught me to:
- adapt in real time
- push through discomfort
- trust that there was still more in me
There’s something really satisfying about getting to the other side of all that.
No One Really Cares That You Did An Ironman 70.3
The best analogy I can think of for doing a half ironman (or any endurance event) is that it’s similar to traveling on a big, long, expensive, international trip. Yes, it’s REALLY cool to go backpacking in Europe. You’ll plan, spend lots of $, and have the time of your life. Some parts of it will be epic, and some parts will be really frustrating and not go according to plan.
And it’s fun to tell people about it and recap the adventures to anyone who will listen. But ultimately, it’s an experience that changes you.
And you’ll probably want to gush about it and talk about it non-stop, and there will be some kind friends and family who will allow you to do that…
…but ultimately, no one else went on this trip. It was yours. The experiences, transformations, and memories are all yours. It changed YOU.
People will get tired of you talking about it (which is why it’s important to get plugged in with other triathletes – they’ll talk about this sport all day/every day with you, haha), and they honestly don’t really care whether you do the 70.3 or you don’t do the 70.3.
But you did that.
The experience is yours, forever.
And you get to become the person who lives on the other side of the race, which is really what it’s all about.
If you made it through this entire thing, thanks for reading and following along my FIRST IRONMAN 70.3 JOURNEY! There will absolutely be another half Ironman in my future. And I would love to do a full Ironman at some point in my life, too!
For now, I’m enjoying not following a training plan for just a moment. I’ve signed up for a 2027 race, but nothing yet for the fall of 2026. I’m prioritizing a few other things right now, but I’m sure I’ll get a fall race on my calendar when the time is right!
Sending you love and energy today,
Kelsey