tcc 2026 | IAN CORLESS

Stage 3 of The Coastal Challenge Costa Rica is always circled in red. The Queen Stage. The day that defines the race. The stage that strips things back to effort, patience, and decision-making. On paper it is long and brutal. On the ground, it is something else entirely.

The morning stars with the coast, in the quiet half-light where the jungle still holds the night. Runners gathered with headlamps flickering, shoes already damp from the humidity. The air was heavy but mercifully cooler than previous days. Low cloud sat over the hills. It would prove to be a gift.

Almost immediately, the course dropped into a wide riverbed. This opening section is deceptive. It looks runnable, even friendly. Pale stones, shallow flowing water, open sky above. But riverbed running is never free speed. Every step shifts. Ankles work overtime. Shoes fill with water within minutes. The rhythm becomes uneven, a constant negotiation between pace and balance. Some runners hopped rock to rock, trying to keep their feet dry. Others accepted the soak and drove straight through, splashing forward with purpose.

The sound here was distinctive. Footsteps slapping water. Heavy breathing echoing off the valley walls. Occasional shouts as someone slipped or laughed at the futility of staying clean. This was Costa Rica announcing itself early.

As the river narrowed, the trail began to rise. Jungle closed in. Thick green walls pressed close, vines hanging low, the smell of wet earth and vegetation everywhere. Heat built quickly once the climbing started, but the cloud cover held. No direct sun. No baking. For this stage, that mattered more than almost anything.

Then came Nauyaca Waterfalls.

Few race courses pass somewhere this iconic. The roar of the falls could be heard long before they were seen, a deep, constant thunder. Mist hung in the air. The trail twisted along the edge, offering brief, almost cinematic glimpses of white water crashing down into turquoise pools far below. Volunteers stood grinning, clapping runners through, knowing exactly how cruel it is to pass somewhere so beautiful with no time to stop.

The climbs around the waterfalls were short but sharp. Legs were already feeling the cost of the riverbed. Breathing became laboured. Sweat mixed with spray from the falls. It felt primal. Raw. A reminder that this race is as much about environment as distance.

After Nauyaca, the stage changed character again. The trail rolled relentlessly. Up. Down. Some long climbs you can settle into. No extended descents to recover. Just constant undulation through jungle, farmland, and rough tracks. This is where the Queen Stage earns its reputation.

The terrain was hard and punishing. Exposed dirt roads baked under thinning cloud. Narrow singletrack where roots and rocks waited to catch tired feet. Every rise felt unnecessary. Every dip stole momentum. It was a section that demanded discipline. Go too hard, and the coast would destroy you later. Hold back too much, and you’d bleed time you’d never get back.

At the front, Erick Aguero was putting on another master class.

Aguero’s racing here is never flashy. No surges for the crowd. No dramatic moves. Just relentless forward motion. Smooth cadence. Perfect pack management. He ran like someone who knows this land, understands the humidity, respects the distance. While others visibly fought the course, Aguero flowed with it. By the time the terrain began to open and the air shifted, his advantage was already established.

Eventually, after hours inland, something changed. The breeze arrived first. Salty. Cool. Then the light brightened. And suddenly, unmistakably, the coast appeared.

This transition is one of the great moments of the race. Jungle gives way to open sky. The sound of waves replaces insects. The vastness of the Pacific stretches out ahead. Runners hit the sands near the start of the Adventure course, knowing the end is closer now, but also knowing that beaches come with their own price.

The sand was soft in places, compact in others. Feet sank, calves screamed. The trail wove along the coastline, ducking in and out of shaded sections, then back onto open beach. Offshore, the famous Whale Tail formation of Marino Ballena National Park stood out clearly, a natural landmark that feels almost surreal when you’re deep into a long race.

There was beauty here, but also vulnerability. The sun broke through the cloud intermittently. Reflections off the water were harsh. Runners could smell salt on their skin. Aid stations felt like lifelines. Ice, cola, encouragement in multiple languages.

The final kilometres into Ballena Village were a test of stubbornness. Legs heavy. Feet blistered. Packs lighter but shoulders sore. The finish line came slowly, deliberately, making runners earn every step.

Aguero crossed first in 6:26:41, calm, composed, as if he had expected nothing else. Behind him, Jon Shield fought hard to secure second in 6:54:50, holding off a strong late push from Joe Matheson, who finished just over a minute later in 6:56:02. All three looked spent. All three knew they had survived the hardest day.

In the women’s Expedition race, the story was familiar. A repeat of the previous stage with a dominant Denise Zelaya in control from the front. No drama. Just execution. On a day like this, consistency matters more than heroics. Janina Beck finished 2nd 8:57:19 with Vanessa Duran 3rd in 9:34:11.

Results at webscorer.com

In the Adventure category Laura Zuñiga crossed in 5:40:27 with Toni Clarke close behind 5:45:42, it’s a battle between the two, and Kristel polet 5:46:04 in 3rd. For the men, once again Sammy Francis lead Alberto Gil, 5:20:23 and 5:22:28 respectively. Roberto Solano was 3rd in 5:40:20.

Stage 3 didn’t just shuffle the leaderboard. It revealed it. It exposed weaknesses, rewarded patience, and reminded everyone why The Coastal Challenge is respected worldwide. Long after the finish line buzz faded and runners collapsed into shade with food and cold drinks, the Queen Stage lingered

It always does.