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My Triathlon.Posted on Thursday 21 February 2008 at 08:36 - Post Comment
Hello there everyone, I rarely come on here as I usually contribute to the posts that Andy writes. I thought I would tell you about the experiences I have been through during the lead up to my triathlon and the race itself. After Andy did his race I felt compelled to achieve greatness such and his, so I too could revel in the compliments of others, so when my friend C told me about this woman’s triathlon, I was very interested. We initially thought we take a leg each, C, her friend S and me, however as training progressed I felt sure I could do the whole thing myself. I fear I was getting rather to big for my blister forming running shoes. After getting an adequately jelly gel seat for my spangly new bike, Andy and I began riding around town and out to Even though the training was going well, I still feared that doing all three together would result in the end of me. So the weekend before, C and I wisely chose to do a practise run! I kid you not. As if doing it once would not be bad enough, we were doing this for fun. However, in the end I managed it quite well, even though we had really long transitions gaps, I completed the 3 sections in about 1h 30mins, and unfortunately came over the finish limping as my flat, stupidly twisted feet were sorer than when you get chilli in your eye. Not a good sign! Adding on 10mins for transition, I figured if I could do the whole thing in 1h 30 then I would be pretty chuffed. So the day finally came, and after a week of my work colleagues asking me ‘why’, I was suitably nervous. The night before we were just chilling at the house, but a few glasses of wine later, I realised I needed to get up at 5am and the wine would definitely not help the matter. After a good night sleep Andy and I were rudely awakened by the Hello Kitty alarm buzzing in our ear, and I was bolt upright in a second. We needed to get to C’s house for 6am as she lived just across from the centre we where the race was. I changed and packed all my very vital equipment: t-shirt, ankle supports, togs, lip balm, pink flower power helmet, hello kitty towel etc, and Andy put my bike on the car’s bike carrier. Andy had said to have bit of brekkie, but I felt so uneasy in the stomach, I just couldn’t. We got to C’s house and went straight across to register. Luckily we did as after queuing found out something had gone wrong with our online entries and our names weren’t on the list, and we most definitely weren’t coming in (as the bouncer famously said!). POO! is all I thought. All the lady kept saying was ‘you need a chip, you need a chip!’ (a timing chip for my ankle) And I kept asking was ‘where can I get a chip, where can I get a chip?’ Which, in my mind rapidly went to ‘where the F**k can I get a chip’ because she told us we had to search through all the bags of chips of all the 800 competitors. 800 chips later and still no silly little chip! So I went back to the registration tent and, I my very British way, went straight back to the front to see the lovely chip lady. Whilst waiting, another lady kindly asked to help us, and after a short explanation simply gave us a chip explaining we would be the last wave of competitors. Never mind that, I thought, my stress is over. Ha Ha, not at all as it turned out. After changing, I realised I had left my most important piece of equipment at home, my inhaler, but it was too late to go back. We were in wave 34. That meant 34 minutes after the first wave. When our numbers were called I became all giggly like a little girl, and thought the whole thing was so funny. People in Anyway, Andy was jumping up and down shouting to me to be quick, and I was putting my sock onto my wet and now muddy feet. Joy! I felt like I was taking forever, but I whipped my togs (Kiwi for swimming costume) off and had on my bra and pants underneath and put on my shorts and special ‘Triathlon’ t-shirt. I clambered onto my bike and with Andy’s shout of support about how great I was filling my ears, I left oozing with confidence. Part 2 I thought, 1 down 2 to go. Almost straight away I realised I was on my own and most of the competitors were all ahead of me. I was very disheartened, but I ploughed on. When I was almost at the turn around, 2 people passed me and I heard the organiser guy shout, ‘Pack up, she the last one’. “Great!” I thought, “I’m last!” I felt so sad and a bit humiliated at coming physically last across the line, but the pathetic girly whimpering only made my breathing worse and I nearly had to stop. “Wimpy girls don’t do triathlons”, I thought, and gave my self a mental slap and carried on through the hurt. When I finally did come back, I saw the relief in Andy’s eyes - he must have thought I had fallen off. (When on a bike I tend to do that a lot - that or ride into stationary objects) In a very triumphant way I rode into the transition area, which was almost empty, and parked my bike. When I saw Andy I felt even more sad, as I did feel I was letting him and myself down a bit. But there were all my friends cheering me on for the 3km run. The best part was, because I was on my own and the last competitor, Andy did the run/walk with me. It was great! My calves were really sore at this point and he really helped me push through the pain and run. I still had a very bad tummy ache, and put it down the exercise, but couldn’t shake the need to go the toilet (number 2 – eugh!). When the finish line came into sight, I broke into a run and, in a typical chariots of fire run, sprinted across the finish line. There, I received a medal with ‘FINISHER’ on it. “Yes!” I thought “I am a finisher - I finished it!” All the pain faded away, and elation flooded through my veins. I am so happy and proud of myself for completing it, even though it hurt for a while. My final time was 1 hour and 21 minutes, and I was no way near last! In fact, I was number 625 across the line out of 815 that started. Hardcore? You betcha! PS: I then endured Monday and Tuesday off work sick as I had a tummy bug. See what I mean about hardcore?!
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