Swimrun Costa Azahar 2025 – Race Report

Swimrun Costa Azahar 2025 – Race Report

Jan Rigby

“Never try anything new on race day… unless you have to, right?”

Thursday – Travel Shenanigans

The trip began in true race-weekend style: bonkers early flight from Manchester to Valencia. Big thanks to Mum for the pre-dawn airport drop-off – too early for the trains! Navigating Valencia’s public transport wasn’t without its hiccups. The metro to Valencia North was smooth enough, but the train? Cancelled. So, naturally, we made the best of it with snacks and a beer while figuring out how to get to the correct platform – one that turned out to be behind a separate set of barriers (cue minor chaos and staff negotiations).

Eventually on board and scanning the scenery to track our progress, we rolled into Benicàssim. With no taxis in sight, we walked to the campsite – spotting shops and restaurants en route (a good move, in hindsight). After checking in to our charming little bungalow/caravan hybrid, we beelined to Aldi for the essentials (cheers to Matt and Dani for the “do this ASAP” tip): pasta, breakfast bits, and water. Dinner was at a local spot, where we learned the restaurants operate on a rota system – only a few open at a time. Early night. Game face on.

Friday – Swim, Snacks & Some Tapas Trouble

A chilled-out day. A wander into town led to the discovery that while I remembered the travel adapters, I’d somehow forgotten the USB plugs. Classic. After a successful hunt at an electronics shop, we hit the beach for a swim to get a feel for the sea – salinity, current, wave action, and wind.

Post-sea swim pizza (when in Spain…) was followed by a bit of pool play and technique tweaking. Then a little evening mission to find the registration spot – a slight problem, as the English race book said one thing (town hall in Orpesa, 1.5h away) and the Spanish version and email another (finish line area, 40 mins away). Decided to gamble on the latter, planning to be early just in case.

Saturday – Recce, Registration & Rehydration

A mellow morning swim, then a hike along the stunning coastal trail to the (correct!) registration spot. Collected race bag and chip, and let the organisers know the English version still had the wrong info. I confirmed I didn’t need a tri suit (or “triathlon monkey,” as it’s affectionately known) – bikini was just fine, and no wetsuit required (phew, mine didn’t even make the trip).

At 42 pages, the race book had enough detail to skip the briefing. We continued along the coast, trying to find the tower, which was supposedly 6km away – or maybe 3km each way? Still unclear. Either way, saw lots of helpful course markers. Some wouldn’t make full sense until race day, but it helped form a mental map.

Back to base. A very busy pool, then pre-race pasta and a flat lay check. Getting the belt to fit was the last-minute wildcard (yes, I know: never try anything new on race day… unless you have to). Then lights out early.

Sunday – Race Day (AKA The Big Adventure)

Alarm at 5:45. Quick breakfast, double-check gear, and load up extra fluids for the walk to the coach pickup. Didn’t spot any of the other Brits I’d hoped to find, despite having names from the start list (thanks, Mike!).

At the harbour, pre-race nerves kicked in, settled slightly with free coffee and a well-timed gel. Then, finally, onto the boat – and I spotted Richard and Sarah, both absolute rockets (ex-world aquathlon champ and all-round legends). We shared notes on course recon: I’d scoped the middle and end, they’d scoped the start. Verdict? It was going to be technical for everyone.

The Race

We started with a leap off the boat into open water. In-water mass start – always a chaotic ballet of trainers, paddles, elbows and bubbles. I found a decent rhythm, even managed a bit of drafting, and aimed for the flag on the rocks. Exiting the water was a typical tangle of bodies and swell – try not to get shoved, crushed, or caught on rocks while keeping forward momentum!

From there it was into the rhythm of swim > scramble > run > repeat.

• Technical ascents and descents.
• Massive staircases.
• Beaches full of unsuspecting tourists.
• Cliff jumps.
• Oh, and tunnels. One was maybe 2.5 feet in diameter – tight squeeze!

The final swim was deceptively short but wild – around a groyne, which created unpredictable water movement. My years playing in the surf around the Wirral paid off. “Big shout out to Hil here for those days at the beach.” By swimming 10m wide of the groyne instead of 5m, I overtook the woman who had been 200m ahead and pulled away from someone else who, it turns out, was in my category. Result.

One final run: past our swim entry point, up stairs, through town, onto trail, then finally hitting smooth tarmac as I got cheered on by ladies from the super sprint – “I encouraged them to run as well while it was flat.” A final steep bit (okay, I walked around the bend), then pushed on to the blue carpet finish.

Post-Race & Podium Surprise

Reunited with Ian and Andreas (who runs the Backwaterman series in Austria), swapped stories, had a quick rinse, and changed into dry clothes. The post-race zone was stocked: electrolytes, orange slices, mini donuts – yes please.

Results took their time, so I was halfway through a snack when I suddenly heard my name – 3rd place, Female Solo 40+. Surprise podium! Cue frantic chewing and joyful disbelief.

Chatted with the super speedy mixed team, promised to see Andreas in Germany, then shuffled back to the campsite for the holy trinity: nap, food, pool.

Monday & Tuesday – Recovery Mode

Beach, pizza, more bobbing in the pool. Tuesday was the journey home and the start of recovery. Legs: wrecked. Heart: full.

Closing Thoughts

Swimrun Costa Azahar was everything I wanted and more: challenging terrain, gorgeous views, quirky logistics, and a course that rewarded both courage and sea smarts. Would I go back? Definitely. Would I still forget something essential like USB plugs? Probably.

But hey – that’s part of the fun, right?