Sport · Ironman Zurich
Man of Iron
How one of our own turned a broken bike into the best story of the summer.
Sunday, Ale Motta lined up for the Ironman in Zurich. You might not know him — he's Yassine's flatmate, the quiet one who just trains while the rest of us argue in the group chat. For anyone who's never looked it up: an Ironman is a 3.8km swim, then a 180km bike, then — almost as an afterthought — a full 42km marathon. People spend YEARS just trying to finish one. Ale didn't come to finish. He came for the podium, and he was in it.
Then, with three kilometres left on the bike — three — his tyre blew. No spare, no rescue car, nothing but a lot of road left and a decision to make. This is the part where normal people stop.
He got off and ran. Barefoot. Alone. Dragging the bike down the tarmac while the race of his life quietly fell apart.
And then — because apparently that wasn't enough — he went out and ran the ENTIRE marathon anyway. Forty-two kilometres, on legs that had already been wronged once. He crossed the line around 35th.
Sit with that for a second. The kind of mechanical failure that ends most people's whole day, and the man simply refused to let it. No drama, no rescue, and afterwards he barely told anyone. That's the guy. Buy him a pair of shoes when you see him — he's earned a few. ■