Queremos compartir con ustedes el inspirador testimonio de Miss Victoria Salata, quien recientemente completó uno de los desafíos deportivos más exigentes del mundo: un Ironman, que incluye 3,8 km de natación, 180 km de ciclismo y 42 km de trote.

Su experiencia va mucho más allá del rendimiento físico. En su relato, Miss Victoria nos abre una ventana a un camino lleno de determinación, resiliencia y crecimiento personal, marcado por miedos, obstáculos, aprendizajes y, finalmente, una profunda sensación de orgullo y realización.

Este testimonio es un recordatorio poderoso de que los sueños se construyen con esfuerzo, perseverancia y pasión, y una invitación para toda nuestra Comunidad a valorar cada etapa del proceso, incluso cuando las circunstancias no son fáciles.

Los invitamos a leer su historia completa y a emocionarse con este ejemplo de fortaleza, disciplina y convicción.

3.8 km swim + 180 km bike + 42 km run.

A race I enjoyed from start to finish! That was my only goal, to be a finisher of this Ironman.

It was a process that required a lot of mental strength. I had several ghosts to overcome, doubts, fears, and uncertainties. All of this because, back in April of this same year, I had already made my first attempt at an Ironman and unfortunately, at km 80 of the bike leg, I had an irreversible mechanical failure that officially took me out of the race (even though I still ran the marathon alongside my husband so he could reach his goal). Without realizing it, what happened in Texas affected me much more than I thought. For 5–6 weeks, I was mentally destroyed, insecure, after having trained for months for that race. I was so excited, and in a split second, my dream of finishing my first Ironman was gone.

After talking with Charlie (my husband) and my coach, there came a day when I just had to turn the page and I decided to sign up for Ironman Florida a process I knew I would prepare for alone. It was a huge mental challenge for me because I wanted to truly get to know myself to train at my own pace, face my fears, and trust my process. I thought it would be hard to be alone, but I actually enjoyed it a lot because I saw it as a stage of growth. Being alone forced me to learn to solve things on my own from mechanical issues to mental ones, from physical to emotional challenges which made it such an important journey for me.

It was a process of learning to trust myself again, and the foundation of everything was to relax and enjoy every training session. Six weeks before Ironman Florida, I got injured and couldn’t run for a month. That injury made me doubt again for a moment, but soon enough, I knew I had to turn the page because I didn’t want anything to take away my dream of crossing that Ironman Florida finish line, I wanted it no matter what.

Race day was just like the process: I ENJOYED every single kilometer. I smiled through every swim stroke, every pedal stroke, every running stride. I had never felt so calm going into a race.

The Swim: It was incredible. As always, before starting, I stood in my “power position,” hands on hips, looked up at the sky, and reminded myself of my why. I couldn’t lose focus “enjoy and race with your soul, run your own race at your own your pace”.

The water was perfect, barely any current, and it was the first time I felt so calm and confident! I’m thrilled because I averaged my best swim pace ever in a race and it was 3,800 meters! The first 1,900m were done in 32 minutes (my time for a 70.3 Ironman swim is 33 minutes!), so I improved by one minute. I never thought I’d hit a personal best in an Ironman swim! I remembered all the tips my coaches at ProSwim (the club where I train) gave me “use your arms; they won’t be doing anything for the next 180 km on the bike.”

Important detail: when I started running into the water, there was a little hole in the sand and I tripped face first! Oops. Second highlight: there were jellyfish, but luckily, I didn’t touch any.

Overall, the swim was amazing, I felt strong, calm, and confident. Beyond the time (which I’m super happy about), I always see the swim as my physical and mental “warmup.”

Transition 1 (Swim to Bike): Quite long, and we had to run barefoot over concrete which was a bit painful! The volunteers were amazing as always, and people from the US are very enthusiastic they screamed and cheered like crazy! I felt so supported. They kept yelling “You got this!” and it really helped me believe I was doing great.

The Bike: This was the discipline I trained for completely on my own. And wow, after the mechanical failure in Texas, I was a bit traumatized. But I truly believe that if you stay positive, you attract positive things. I spent countless hours training solo on weekends,140, 150, 160, even 180 km rides, just me and the road. Doing that helped me so much: I learned to understand my limits, to work on my mindset, and to manage my effort.

During the race, I felt very strong, like I could push even more! But unlike a 70.3, where you only run 21 km after the bike, this time I had to run a full marathon of 42 km so I had to keep my legs fresh. I stayed aero the whole course, fueled every 45 minutes with carbs, and hydrated constantly, because the marathon depends entirely on how well you fuel on the bike. I felt amazing, strong legs, strong mind! My watch reminded me every 45 minutes with a message saying, “You’re doing great, but eat a gel!”

I talked to myself a lot, thought about my guardian angel, my grandma Inés and drew strength from my family and friends. I told Charlie before I left that I’d be racing for him. The course was stunning, some parts packed with cheering crowds and others where it was just me and my bike. There was wind in some sections, but patience was key! When I passed km 80, I was so happy “Well, at least I’ve beaten the Texas record,” I thought! By km 170, I was still pacing well, my heart rate low, my body efficient. I’d never ridden that strong before! I even set a personal best for 90 km which was 2h36m (my previous best at the Taupō 70.3 Worlds was 2h43). So two PBs already, in swim and bike! I was thrilled, and above all, I was enjoying every moment.

T2 (Bike to Run): Volunteers (“bike catchers”) took my bike, and I ran to the tent to change. No rush, my pace, my time. I poured water on myself, hydrated, removed tiny pebbles from my shoes, and tied my laces well. The volunteers asked if I wanted to know my position… until then, I had no idea. I hesitated, but then said yes. They told me I was second in my age group, and the first-place athlete had left just one minute earlier.

I knew the only way to qualify for Kona (the Ironman World Championship in Kona Hawaii) was to win my age group but that wasn’t my goal. My goal was to have my race, get my medal. So I didn’t rush. 42 km is a long time. The pros in Kona this year taught us all that if you race at your own pace, things go well. If you chase someone else’s pace, the plan fails. So I focused on my race.

I started running full of motivation. I looked at my watch and saw I was at a 4:20/km pace…beautiful, but unsustainable for a full Ironman marathon. I knew I had to stay around 4:50–5:00/km to finish strong, so I slowed down and focused. My coach Claudio had told me not to go above 155 bpm, and there I was steady at 140.

At km 3–4, my old injury started to hurt. A week before traveling, it had flared up again. It wasn’t a tear anymore, but my leg was still sensitive. I thought, “Seriously? Now?” I shifted my focus and told myself, “It’ll pass. The body’s just adjusting after 3.8 km swimming and 180 km biking. This is normal.” And sure enough, by km 10, the pain was gone!

Around that same km, one of the race officials on a bike pulled up behind me and said, “You are third place female.” I laughed and said, “Are you sure? ” She said yes and rode behind me the whole race. She couldn’t cheer me on, but every few kilometers, I thanked her, I felt like she was protecting me.

At km 28, I passed the woman who had overtaken me earlier she was completely exhausted, even vomiting. That’s when I thought, “The marathon is all about patience.” I was consistent, steady, not faster, not slower. Legs felt great, no pain, no cramps. But around km 30, the struggle became nutritional…my stomach couldn’t take in any more gels or carbs. I was nauseous and wanted to vomit. But I had one hour to go and knew that without fuel, I wouldn’t make it. So I took one gel slowly over ten minutes, sip by sip, just enough to get me to the finish.

The last 12 km were brutal! not physically, but mentally. 12 km sounds like nothing, but in a marathon, it’s everything.So much can happen. There were aid stations every 1.5 km, and in those last 10 km, I stopped at every single one. I’d walk, pour water on my head, put ice in my trisuit to stay alert, count to three, and start running again. I WANTED THAT FINISH LINE SO BADLY.

The hardest kilometers were the last five, pure mental strength. But the crowd was amazing, yelling my name, cheering, I got so emotional. I knew I was second overall and couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe I was about to achieve my goal! Couldn’t believe that after all the obstacles, setbacks, and hard days I was here. Tears started falling; I was proud and emotional, racing alone, far from my family and from Charlie.

At 3 km to go, I said to myself, “Give it everything.” I picked up my marathon pace again strong, no pain, full of heart. I told my coach that my race plan wasn’t about power, pace, or speed, it was about racing with my soul and he said, “I love that. Do it.”

I saw the Ironman carpet and couldn’t believe it! The announcer said into the mic that I was the second female age-group athlete to finish! I raised my arms high even though I was dizzy and nauseous, I smiled the entire marathon. I had done it. I had my medal, I had achieved my goal. My family wasn’t there, my friends weren’t, Charlie wasn’t but I thought of them the entire race. They were my guardians and my source of energy, and I swear I visualized them waiting for me at that finish line.

I’m so happy and emotional it was an incredible journey and an unforgettable day. I cried tears of joy at the finish line.

Without realizing it, I let myself be surprised, I enjoyed the race, and achieved my best performance ever. And as a result, I accomplished something I once thought was so far away qualifying for the Ironman World Championship in Kona, Hawaii.

What this entire experience taught me is that dreams are earned. They take work a lot of it. The path is far from perfect; you fail more times than you succeed. But if you truly have a goal, work for it, polish it, believe in it, and act toward it, because sooner or later, you’ll get there. Good and bad things will happen, what matters most is adapting, adjusting, and above all, enjoying the journey. Because if you don’t enjoy the journey, it’s not worth it.

I know I achieved a great result, with a podium and qualification but beyond that, my goal that day was simply to cross that finish line happy, safe, and fulfilled. And that, above all, is what I take with me.