I didn’t know what I’d find in South Africa—only that I had to go alone to find it. 

This was my initiation.

There’s always a moment when everything blurs. When your breath shortens, vision narrows, and the only voice left is the one in your own head. Race 3 was no exception.

 On the second lap of the 112-mile bike, I asked the universe for a sign that I wasn’t alone.

I scanned the sky, the hills, the road—nothing. Just silence. Stillness. My hands shook. Salt crusted my face. My legs felt hollow. And still—I pedaled. Not because I felt strong, but because stopping felt worse.

The truth is—I didn’t think I was capable of doing something like this alone. I flew across the world by myself. No one waiting at the airport. No one to double-check my gear. No one to hold my fear. Just me, and one question: What if I’m not enough?

That’s when I understood: This was the test. Not of performance—but of presence. Of how much I could hold when everything else fell away. This was meant to strip me down. To show me what was still left standing.

It showed me I can break. I can beg. I can fall apart and still keep going. I can do it alone, but I don’t have to. 

South Africa, you reminded me that I can create something powerful on my own.

Strangers became family. Locals opened their homes. Teams welcomed me into their circles. A girl I met once, three years ago, flew in just to support me— brushing my hair for nine hours like we’d known each other forever. And on race day, you didn’t just cheer. You danced, drummed, roared. I was easily the smiliest, happiest racer on the course. Because I wasn’t just racing—I was rising.

The Solo Test gave me exactly what I came to find:

I am capable. 

I am steady.

 I am strong.

 The power was always mine.

I don’t have to do it alone—but now I know I can.

So if you’re afraid to do it alone, remember:

 That might be exactly where your power is waiting.

Oh, and I qualified for the Ironman World Championship! Kona, the island where legends are made… and where I’ll be standing shoulder to shoulder with the best in the world. It still doesn’t feel real.