The Not-So-Ironman Triathlon of Marsalforn

Chapter 1: Carmelo’s Ambitious Endeavor

In the bustling town of Marsalforn, locals are known for two things: their love for ħobż biż-żejt and their competitive nature when it comes to, well, practically anything. So when Carmelo announced he’d be organizing a triathlon with a Maltese twist, no one was surprised. They were, however, intrigued.

Chapter 2: Introducing the Competitors

Enter the protagonists: Żeppi, a hefty retiree whose daily workout consisted of lifting pastizzi to mouth; Leli, a fisherman whose idea of swimming was floating on a lilo while catching lampuki; and Dora, an expat from Sliema who thought triathlon was a new kind of Mediterranean diet.

Chapter 3: The Event Line-up

Thankfully, Carmelo laid out his version of the triathlon straightaway. First, a swim across the Qbajjar Bay—not too shabby. Then, a bike ride to the Azure Window ruins in Gozo—easy-peasy lemon squeezy. And finally, the clincher: a race to the top of the Citadella while balancing a dish of steaming fenkata (rabbit stew) on their heads.

Chapter 4: The Unexpected Turn

“No one was prepared for what happened next,” recounted Carmelo, still chuckling.

As the starting pistol went off, Żeppi took a surprise lead in the swim, powered by his natural buoyancy. However, things went awry when he started following a jellyfish he mistook for a floating pastizz.

Leli, determined to showcase his maritime prowess, accidentally biked into the sea, fishing rod in hand, claiming he’d found a shortcut. As for Dora, well, she googled ‘how to balance a rabbit without hurting it’ mid-race, much to everyone’s amusement.

Chapter 5: Social Media Mayhem

Maltese netizens went bonkers, live-tweeting the event:

“Żeppi chasing jellyfish #SwimmingGoals #MalteseNotSoIronman”

“Leli’s new cycling-fishing hybrid sport #Innovation #MarsalfornMadness”

“Dora’s search history is now a national treasure #RabbitBalancingAct #TriathlonTremors”

Chapter 6: Who Won, Mela?

Well, here’s the kicker: nobody actually finished the race. Locals were having so much fun watching the participants’ mishaps that they decided to call it a day and enjoy a community feast at the Mdina ditch, featuring all the foods from the triathlon and then some. It became a new annual event, known as the “Fest ta’ L-Idejn Vohti” (Festival of Empty Hands), symbolizing that you don’t need medals when you’ve got good food and better laughs.

Chapter 7: The Aftermath – An Interview with the Organizer

TIMES OF MELA: So Carmelo, did the triathlon turned out as you has ‘spected?
CARMELO: Uwejja, it was even better! We set out to create something sporty and ended up with a feast. If that isn’t a win, I don’t school what is.
TIMES OF MELA: And what about the contestants?
CARMELO: Oh, they’re already training for next year—Żeppi’s floating with pastries, Leli’s designed waterproof bikes, and Dora’s opened a gym for rabbits. Mela, in Malta, anything goes!

Conclusion: The True Maltese Spirit

In the end, the Not-So-Ironman Triathlon of Marsalforn wasn’t about setting records; it was a testament to the true Maltese spirit—finding joy in the ridiculous, community in chaos, and heartily laughing at ourselves. And remember, dear readers, if something doesn’t go as planned, just yell “Mela!” and grab some ħobż biż-żejt. It fixes everything.

Tune in next time for more whimsical tales from the Times of Mela, where the news is as unpredictable as a Maltese fisherman on a bicycle.