Hellfire Hill

The sound of church clock in the early hours of the morning always brings back memories of my first day at school – or rather the anticipation of. Having woken up well before it was time to don my uniform for the very first time, many thoughts raced through my mind.

Fast forward some thirty years and the feeling is still the same. The butterflies are still same – the adrenaline released due to nervousness. My bag is packed. My racing uniform ready to be worn.

Sunday 29th August. Hellfire Extreme Triathlon would take place in the rugged terrain of Majjistral Park in Golden Bay. The Challenge consisting of a 1 kilometre swim, 20 kilometre cycle and an 11 kilometre run sounds relatively mild......on paper. In reality it is Malta’s toughest triathlon event, testing even the most hardened of athletes’ limits.

Having gone through the route prior to the event I was fully aware that this was not going to be a walk in the park. I knew that I would probably be the last one in. Not finishing was not something I wanted to consider and I tried to brush away such thoughts when they tried to edge into my mind. Having said that I really did not wish to finish the race only to find a bored Euchar from B’Kara St. Joseph waiting to clock me in. Realistically I estimated my finish time to be around 5 hours.

The start of the race, scheduled for 830am, could not arrive to soon. I tried to put in some fuel in my stomach but quite frankly energy bars are not exactly tasty and conjure up images of the food I feed my horse (am assuming here, just in case one thinks I might have actually tasted it) and the energy drinks all taste disgusting. But I need fuel to get the engine going so I make the effort and fuel up.

It is time to go. Walking down to the beach, the waves caused by the Force 6 winds seem much bigger than they looked from the transition area. Countdown starts.

Hitting the start button on my GPS we battle the waves just to get into the water and head a couple of metres away from the beach towards the marker buoy. I try to follow Danica Bonello Spiteri’s advice and not to push to much keeping in mind that I had to cycle and run as well. Battling the waves, I moved foward slowly.

The motion of the waves caused my stomach to churn and started feeling sick. Wishing I had taken some motion sickness pills, I try to think pleasant thoughts. I reach the marker buoy and start the second part of the first leg. I am sort of relieved to see that there are other swimmers next to me. I keep on, trying to keep a steady pace. Keeping my head in the water is difficult as I start feeling sick. As I am close to the waterline a huge wave hits me from the back. I feel pinned down for just enough time to think to myself "ok this is not good' when suddenly I am out of the water gasping for air and trying to keep my goggles over my eyes. Thankfully I have only a few paces to get myself out of the water and proceed up the steps towards the transition area to get ready for the bike leg.

From the transition area I can hear fellow athletes, taking part in the relay, cheering me on. I push myself up the stairs, still battling the motion sickness. The sun is now beating upon us. I pour water over my head before donning my helmet. I run out of the transition area, shouting out my number, and proceeding on the bike. I know I am in for a tough one having covered the route previously. I am not an offroad cyclist and I want to make sure I don’t injure myself as this could potentially disrupt my participation in the Sprint Triathlon and London Duathlon races in the coming weeks.


I head towards to soil banks that lead to Majjistral Park which lead me to the first offroad bit – a steep ramp. I get off my bike, there is no point attempting this one and risking the race in the first few minutes of the bike leg. Knowing that there would be a possibility of coming across the faster athletes heading towards the transition area I make sure I stay to the left as per our instructions.


Heading towards the cliff edge I meet Etienne Bonello heading down, first lap nearly completed. In his fast pace he finds the time to encourage me. I keep cycling as much as I can, getting off the bike when the offroad becomes too much. Reaching the tarmac road that leads to Popeye Village, I stand on the pedals and head down at a fast speed, hoping that no dog comes rushing to greet or attack me from the nearby fields.




Shouting my number to the marshal I start making my way up Hellfire Hill. “You may need to dismount and either carry or push the bike up the hill (feel free to disregard our suggestion)” said the race briefing document – I took up the suggestion and pushed my bike up the hill.

Back on the saddle and cycling up the hill towards the road that leads to Manikata my thoughts go back to last year’s Lifecycle Challlenge where cycling up hills, albeit not offroad ones, were the order of the day. A bout of nostalgia hit me but this was Hellfire Challenge and there was no time for nostalgia. Heading back towards the transition area I am faced with another tough downhill offroad, I attempt to tackle it but a slight twist saw the pedal embedded in my shin so I decided to play it safe and run down the hill. Next obstacle was a rubble wall which I had to first get my bike over then myself to continue the race. Following the well placed signs I soon reach the road that lead to the transition area. I was on tarmac so I was happy. I took the opportunity to increase the speed and cycled towards the gantry at around 30kms per hour.

Motivated by the loud claps and cheers I proceed towards the second lap of the route, which proves to be more difficult as fatigue and the intense heat set in. Coming across faster cyclists battling their way towards the end of the loop makes me realise that I have a long way to go. I am dreading the run knowing that will be my weakest point. Muttering to myself “focus, focus”, I cycle on determined to finish what I had started earlier on in the day. I did not relish having to go up Hellfire hill another time nor carrying my bike over the rubble wall but this is what made the Challenge what it was.

Two hours have passed since I started the bike leg when I make it to the transition area and prepare for what is my living nightmare – an 11 kilometre run, two laps around the clay slopes in the Riviera Martinique area. Pouring water over my head I run out of the transition area and attempt to pick up a slow and steady pace. The heat is unbearable. I keep trying to pour water over my head but it dries up immediately.

If there is one thing that gets to me psychologically is having to do a circuit or loop more than once. I’d rather go a further distance to make up the mileage rather than having to go round a circuit twice – naturally this is part of what makes a route tough I guess.

Nearing the Riviera carpark a marshall, who has obviously never taken part in any kind of sport except perhaps fast food guzzling, looks at me and asks me if I am the last one. My positive response generates a loud groan and an “oh no, I have to wait longer here?” from this marshal. Having been brought up to be polite as much as possible coupled with the fact that I needed every ounce of energy I choose to ignore him although deep down I think to myself that perhaps I was biting more than I could chew.

Neverthless, I plodded on. I reached the dreaded hill that leads towards the clay slopes. I start walking at a fast pace, knowing very well that any extra effort would not get me anywhere. Looking at my GPS I know that I still have a long way to go. Trying to banish negative thoughts from my mind I take one pace at a time. Following the signs I slowly make it to Lippija Tower. Having come across Danica Bonello Spiteri, she encourages me on, encouraging me and motivating me by remindimg me that from this point on the rest is flat or downhill. I pick up a pace, slowing down at times to drink from the small bottles attached to my belt. The drink is disgustingly hot but keeping hydrated is imperative.

Slowly but surely I find myself near the car park and head towards the transition area. Cheered on by my friends my motivation increases but lasts only a few minutes when I find myself running alone. Going up the hill, for the second time, I am very much aware that I will be the last one in and if I am lucky there will be some people left to welcome me at the finish line. Perhaps it might sound pathetic but I really did not want to finish this on my own.

Having been swimming, cycling and running for the past three hours my back starts to hurt and so do my heels. I drag my feet in a semi-walk/run, trying to estimate what time I would arrive at the finish. Looking at my watch I can't even figure out how much it is going to take me but at this point in time finishing is my main concern. The marshals have gone from their previous station. I feel so alone in the world. I mutter to myself that failing, giving up is not an option. I feel like crying but that would be wasted energy. I start humming to myself, whatever the song was I have no recollection.

Suddenly I hear the sound of someone running. I don’t really take notice immediately thinking that the heat must be playing tricks on me. But the sound is close to me so I look back and to my astonishment I see my friend Chris running behind me, bottle of water in hand and a big smile on his face. Having completed his cycle part of the relay he decides to come and join me. Egging me on, we pick up a pace. We are met by a marshall who is obliged to wait for me so that he can take my number to ensure that I did actually cover the route. Having someone running next to me I feel motivated and pick up a steadier pace. The end is getting closer and closer.

Reaching the clay slopes I am even more surprised to find my training buddy Cyprian waiting for me, ready to run with me. He has just completed the full route, and on the previous day completed the 10k Trail run but he joins Chris to push me to the finish. Shortly after I find Donatelle Callus and her dog BenG. Donatelle urges me to keep on fighting, whilst BenG just looks at me with his gorgeous eyes. This show of support from my friends brings tears to my eyes and a lump in my throat. I owe it to them to push myself. In the car park I find Rachel Galea on a bicycle cycling at a pace next to me. “Pace yourself, keep this rate, come on, and you will complete the challenge in less than 4 hours” Cyp tells me. I slow down to try and conserve energy. BenG runs next to me, looking at me and keeping my pace, he knows he must not run fast and keeps close to me. It is incredible how intelligent dogs are!

With every step I take I am closer to the finish. Keeping an eye on my GPS I realise that achieving an-under 4 hour timing is actually possible. I try to save my energy as I get on to the main road and head towards the finish line. One last burst of energy is all I have and I use it to sprint into the finish line where surprisingly I find a crowd of people cheering me on.

I look at my watch – 3 hours 54 minutes and 53 seconds. I did it. I completed the Hellfire Extreme Triathlon.

What happens next, I must admit, is a bit of a blur. A bottle of cold water is thrust into my hand. My heart rate is over 170 beats per minute and much as I try to slow it down I am not successful. I am aware of someone leading me to a chair and giving me water and electrolytes to restore the depleted salts. Removing my muddied shoes, I give me feet a well deserved breather. My heart is now beating at an acceptable rate and I am already feeling much better. As I walk over to where the pasta is being served, fellow athletes come over to congratulate me, some surprised at my determination. I am further surprised when I am presented with an award for my determination in a form of hamper full of isotonic drinks, which will definitely come in handy.

Being presented with an award for determination


Posing happily with my dirtied bike after successfully completing the Challenge

Much as I was looking forward to the pasta lunch my stomach can only take liquids and I have to force myself to eat a few mouthfuls of penne. The adrenaline is still pumping in my veins. All I want is cold water and an ice cream!

My friends - Thank you, I wouldn't have done it in such a time without you!

Left to Right - Cyp Dalli, Donatelle Callus, BenG Callus, Chris Shultz, Rachel Galea

As the organising team, who have done a wonderful job, start dismantling the place, the Hellfire Extreme Triathlon is well and truly over. The satisfaction of completing the race was immense, the pride at being given a prize for showing determination was great but the best part of it all was the show of support by my friends and fellow athletes.

A huge thank you goes to the organistation team – Nathan & Deirdre Farrugia and Antonello Gauci as well as all the volunteers that contributed towards the success of the event!