I Participated in the 2026 Ottawa Ironman Triathlon

This is part of a series of posts on James’ quest to participate in the 2026 Ottawa Ironman Triathlon. You can read other posts in the series here.

James dedicates this accomplishment to the memory of Andrew Lin and Eric Lee.

Background

On August 3, 2025 I watched people swim, bike and run in the inaugural Ottawa Ironman Triathlon. This moment kickstarted for me a year-long training process with a goal of participating in the 2026 edition, despite not knowing anything about swimming or running at the time.

The 2026 Ottawa Ironman Triathlon attracted close to 3,000 participants from ages 18 to 81, with 27% women. Most represented countries after Canada were in order USA, France, UK and Mexico. This event is notable among Ironman Triathlons for taking place in an urban setting, with roads closed to traffic and the finish line in Major’s Hill Park in downtown Ottawa.

Triathlons, regardless of distance, all follow the same sequence of events:

1. Swim;
2. Transition from swim to bike, known as T1;
3. Bike;
4. Transition from bike to run, known as T2;
5. Run.

A triathlete in the Ottawa Ironman Triathlon has to reach a given stage within the following time limits from the time they enter the water:

1. 2 h 20 min to reach T1;
2. 10 h 30 min to reach T2;
3. 17 h to complete the entire race.

My goal was to finish the race within the 17 h time limit; I did however envision a best case scenario finishing time of 14 h 31 min where everything goes perfectly.

To give me the required motivation, and being passionate about languages, I left some messages for myself on my bike.

Yes I speak Spanish, no I do not speak Finnish

Welcome to the toughest single day in sports

“You will swim…”

On August 2, 2026 I arrived at Britannia Beach shortly after 4:30 am and chanced upon my friend Alex, a fellow aspiring Ironman. We checked our bikes, stood around, strapped on our ankle bracelets which would track our locations in real time, then started lining up for a 6:00 am swim start and an experience that would change our lives forever.

Lining up alongside other wetsuit swimmers, I felt surprisingly calm despite staring down one of the most intimidating starting lines of my athletic life. As soon as the swimmer ahead of me was waved forward the volunteers were instructed to hold off for a few moments for some distance to build, adding to the anticipation, but I did not let it get to me.

Upon getting the signal I charged into the water and began my first Ironman Triathlon. The course was a rectangular shape, with three left turns followed by one right turn back to the starting point. Thanks to previous experience I knew how to settle immediately into my race pace and relied on my arms to move through the water while kicking lightly, with regular sighting (head out of the water, eyes forward to see where the course is) from the beginning. Keeping each successive buoy in sight allowed me to avoid going off course.

I made the first left turn and entered the longest straightaway of the swim, quickly discovering that staying on course means constantly bumping into other swimmers. I was kicked in the head, jabbed by swinging arms, swum on top of, and gave it out in equal measure too. Fortunately it did not break my focus nor significantly hinder my progress. I had also forgotten to study beforehand what the numbered buoys indicated, and had no idea how far into the swim we were other than by where turns were located.

The second left turn soon came up, followed shortly by a third, which meant I was approaching the final stretch. My pace felt good and I remained on course and unbothered by the jostling. Upon reaching the righthand turn there were only a few hundred metres left, with the finish arch visible in the distance. Not long after I touched ground and stood up, having completed the shortest and arguably most challenging part of the triathlon.

“You will bike…”

I got out of my wetsuit with help from a volunteer (I wore my cycling clothes underneath), grabbed my numbered transition bag from the grass, entered the T1 tent and put on my cycling shoes and helmet. I ran to the bike rack, dropped my transition bag on the grass, unracked my bike and wheeled it out.

Upon leaving the transition zone, I realized to my horror that the palm-sized bike computer I usually attach to my handlebars, and which measures real-time speed and distance covered, was still in the transition bag. I quickly decided against going back to get it (which the volunteers may not have allowed anyway), mounted my bike and took off. This meant relying on how my legs felt to determine an optimal pace.

Still soaking wet, I completed the first 20 km and thought OK, not having my bike computer isn’t so bad. From there, heading east towards downtown, we would do laps taking us to the south, back downtown, to the east, back downtown, and twice more. These roads were familiar to me, having cycled on them many times in training. I also paused every 20 km or so to rest at an aid station where volunteers hand out drinks and food, for about 60-120 seconds each time.

About 90% of triathletes used aerodynamic handlebars, either built-in on a triathlon or time trial bike, or clip-on handlebars on a road bike (like mine). These allow the cyclist to lean forward on their elbows with hands in front, making them more aerodynamic.

Like so

Many triathletes effortlessly blew by me on their state of the art bikes, but I made sure to ignore them and to race my own race.

And so it continued one kilometre after another, and after another still. Conditions were great, with little to no headwinds. There were a few fun sections of speeding downhill on the aero bars, which I rarely get to do in training. After 140 km my legs started feeling a hint of fatigue, but I decided to keep pushing all while ready to back off if the fatigue increased.

I still felt good coming into the final stretch, and had been cycling faster than anticipated the whole time. After about 170 km it started to rain quite heavily, by which point I was ready to get the bike part over with (despite it being my favourite part) and on to the run. I powered through the rain and into T2 at the National Gallery of Canada.

A couple of things learned during the bike portion:

1. Triathletes, unlike road cyclists, are not good at climbing even gentle hills (at least not the triathletes around me). When going uphill I breezed by many of them (most of whom were faster than me on flat ground), but not one passed me.
2. Triathlon bikes suck at securing water bottles located behind the saddle. Bottles are so placed for aerodynamic reasons, but because of the constant bumping are prone to fall out, and I kept dodging bottles lying on the bike course. It is also possible that the triathlete dropped the bottle while taking it out of the cage or putting it back in.

“And you will run!”

Upon arriving at T2 I handed off my bike to a volunteer, grabbed my transition bag, headed into the tent and changed into dry clothes. The dryness did not last, as it was still raining heavily as my marathon began. Looking at my watch, there was ample time to finish within the time limit, and even a realistic chance of making my best case scenario completion time of 14 h 31 min.

Trying my best to ignore the rain, I wound my way around downtown, then ran south alongside the Rideau Canal to begin the first of two laps that would see me go to the Experimental Farm and back (and then to the farm again, then back again). There was a brutal hill after Dow’s Lake that I (along with most other participants) walked up. Similar to the bike, I stopped regularly at aid stations for 60-120 seconds at a time. My friend Alex and I would also pass each other going in opposite directions several times during the marathon.

The toughest part of the marathon (and perhaps of the entire triathlon) was about 12 km in, going through the southern turnaround point at the Experimental Farm for the first time, knowing I had to head back the way I came, and then do it all again once more. Previous marathon experience kicked in here, reminding me that tough moments will pass.

I made it back downtown, then headed south again for the second lap; by then the rain had stopped thankfully. By this point I had already exceeded my expectations and was on track to beat my best case scenario time; looking at my watch once more, I did some mental math and realized that a sub-14 hour finishing time was well within reach! Suddenly there was something to lose, and upon reaching the Dow’s Lake hill again I ran (slowly) to the top instead of walking, and did not let up coming into the Experimental Farm turnaround.

Once past the turnaround for the second time it was a 12 km one-way trip to the finish line. My legs were getting sore, but easing up was no longer an option. I ran by the aid stations without stopping, counting down each remaining kilometre. By the 37 km mark of my run, almost all participants around me were walking and were quickly in my figurative rearview mirror. In the final 2 km there was a massive uphill section behind Parliament Hill (it is in the name after all) which I had to walk up. Once at the top it was time to bring it home.

I maintained my pace along Wellington street, and turning at Mackenzie street there started to be spectators lining the sides of the course. I stepped onto the red carpet in Major’s Hill Park, stopped to ring the customary bell for first-time Ironman Triathlon finishers, and crossed the finish line into sports immortality.

Results

My times were as follow:

• 3.8 km swim: 1 h 31 min 54 s (2 min 23 s/100 m)
• T1: 9 min 29 s;
• 180 km bike: 6 h 43 min 00 s (26.75 km/h);
• T2: 14 min 40 s;
• 42.2 km run: 5 h 09 min 15 s (7 min 09 s/km);
• Total: 13 h 48 min 19 s.

I met my goal of finishing in 17 h by an extremely wide margin, and even comfortably eclipsed my best case scenario time of 14 h 31 min.

How did it happen? Well, the swim happened almost exactly according to schedule, which was great. My T1 time was on the long side, but that is OK for a beginner triathlete. The bike is where I gained a lot of time compared to expectations, notably without the aid of my bike computer. T2 was on the long side as well, but again acceptable, especially since my cycling clothes were drenched and needed changing. My expectations of the marathon were vague as it was hard to predict how I would feel after the bike, but it turned out very respectably.

Given that this was my second triathlon overall, and first one covering more than 36 km, I likely punched above my weight with this result.

And I picked up my hardest-earned participation medal ever

Lessons learned

Volunteers make the dream happen

There were too many volunteers to thank, but here is my best effort:

• Wetsuit strippers who help us remove our wetsuits after the swim;
• Aid station volunteers standing in the rain with smiles on their faces, holding out drinks and food;
• Bike catchers that take our bikes at T2 and store them underground for us;
• Volunteers who transported our transition bags to the finish area;
• And many others whose work in the background made it all happen.

Included in this recognition are also family, friends, and total strangers who took the time to come and cheer me on.

Have a plan…

Preparation is everything. Leading up to race day, study the course, know what clothes to race in, what nutrition to carry (and how), how often to rest (if at all), what to do if the bike malfunctions, etc.

But be prepared to adapt

Accept that certain things will not go according to plan, and learn to be comfortable moving forward in less than optimal conditions.

One is never too old to learn something new

When I committed to doing the Ottawa Ironman Triathlon in 2025 I was mostly new to triathlon (save for my cycling experience), knowing nothing about swimming and running. In one year I became an advanced swimmer, runner and triathlete.

Train your mind as well as your body

It is important to stay calm at the starting line of a race and to channel negative feelings into positive ones (e.g. “I’m ready for this, bring it on” instead of “I’m so nervous and feel like fainting”). This ability cannot be taught, and must be experienced first hand by lining up at starting lines and gradually learning to control one’s nerves.

Another big part of success in endurance sports is the ability to will oneself to continue when the body wants to stop. While it may sound simple, it can be one of the most difficult obstacles an athlete has to overcome on race day.

And lastly…

Carpe diem

If there is something you have always wanted to do but have not yet done, get on it, because tomorrow is not guaranteed.

Next steps

Believe it or not, my sports events for the year are not over yet. While my Ironman Triathlon was the summit, on September 5 I am doing an unsanctioned, independently-organized half-distance race (1.9 km swim, 90 km bike, 21.1 km run), which will be my final event of the year. Rest assured that the inherent contradiction of doing my first full-distance race before my first half-distance race is not lost on me. Just call me an Irony-man.