On the Eve of History, We Ran Along the Mediterranean
In 2017, I traveled to Barcelona with my family, mainly to compete in my first-ever Ironman. The race itself was held in Calella, a coastal town northeast of Barcelona. It was originally scheduled for Sunday, October 1, 2017. Then, with only a few days to go, the organizers issued a sudden announcement: the race would take place one day earlier, moving from October 1 to September 30. It was an unprecedented change in Ironman history.
The reason was simple yet grave: on October 1, Catalonia would hold the independence referendum that captured the world’s attention. At a moment when a nation’s political future stood on the edge of rupture and pain, several thousand athletes in triathlon suits, their bodies covered in sunscreen and race numbers, found themselves drawn unexpectedly into the eye of a historic storm. Most had come for the fast, flat course, the brilliant blue coastline, and the fierce energy near the finish line. Yet that autumn of 2017 cast an extraordinarily rare historical shadow—and a sense of high drama—over this journey of endurance spanning hundreds of kilometers.
On the morning of September 30, the beach at Calella was still peaceful. When the starting gun fired and we entered the Mediterranean, the water was cold but our blood ran hot. The cycling course followed the coastline, the wind roaring in our ears, while the towns along the route were covered in yellow-and-red Estelada flags, symbols of Catalan independence. It was a surreal feeling: immersed in your breathing, power output, nutrition, and accumulating lactic acid, you were locked in a conversation with your own body. Beyond the course, however, an entire region was caught in intense political tension.
Every kilometer that day felt like a race against the history about to unfold. Everyone wanted to cross the finish line safely and claim an Ironman medal before the storm fully descended.
The next day—October 1, 2017—many exhausted athletes woke with aching bodies, preparing to leave Calella or travel into central Barcelona, only to discover that the world outside had changed. The news was filled with alarms, clashes, and crowds gathering outside polling stations. Flags flew across the streets of Barcelona as noise and confusion followed close behind.
In the years that followed, Catalonia would occasionally return to the headlines: parliament declared independence, the central government imposed direct rule, leaders went into exile, and crowds marched through the streets. Eventually, the storm subsided. Catalonia remained part of Spain and did not achieve the independence its most fervent supporters had hoped for.
For those who completed the Ironman on September 30, 2017, however, the experience left an indelible mark.
We often imagine athletic competition and the sweep of history as two parallel lines. In Barcelona that autumn, they briefly intersected—and did so with extraordinary intimacy. You did more than measure 226 kilometers of land and sea with your own body. At the final moment before history’s door swung shut, your feet carried you across a coastline about to be struck by towering waves.
Whenever I think of that medal, I remember more than 3.8 kilometers of open water, 180 kilometers against the wind, and the determination required for 42.195 kilometers on foot. I also remember that morning brought forward by a day—and the deep, tranquil blue of the Mediterranean on the eve of a historic storm.
Barcelona is a childhood dream pieced together by Gaudí in a kaleidoscope of colorful mosaics. The Mediterranean breeze drifts through the stone forest of the Sagrada Família, distilling sunlight and art into a free-verse poem written in the sun.