It’s almost exactly 4 years since my first triathlon. What was meant to be a one-off has now become a way of life. In the last 3 years I’ve completed 9 more – mostly sprints with a couple of Olympic distance. Plus some open water swims and an aquathlon.
One thing hasn’t changed – I’m still slow. Slightly faster than that first time but I won’t be troubling the podium any time soon.
Luckily you don’t have to be fast to enjoy triathlon. But life at the back of the pack has it’s own quirks……
It starts with race entry
The first challenge is choosing the right race. I want to push myself and have a great experience.
There are lots of events which advertise themselves as beginner friendly and are great for a first Tri. But I’m not a novice – just slow.
So I look for races in great locations with interesting courses. Once I find one that looks promising the first thing I’ll check is the elevation on the bike course. I’m a weak cyclist and I’m still not ready for punishing hills (or any kind of hill really!)
Then I check for cut off times. I’ve yet to go under 4 hours for an Olympic distance so I need to know I’ll have time to get round.
Ironman and most other long distance events will have strict cut off times and they will be clearly stated. Shorter races often don’t – or they hide them around page 21 of the T&Cs.
In reality all races have a cut-off or course closure time. The time the event team want to be getting home! I just wish more of them published it somewhere visible.
If there are no cut-off times, then checking last year’s results gives a good indication.
Before the start
I love race day. Soaking up the buzz. Meeting old friends, making new ones.
Try not to be intimidated by all the expensive kit rolling into the car park. At my first Olympic distance Tri, my (perfectly adequate) road bike looked like a toy tricycle compared to some. But I had the last laugh as I passed a fair few grappling with mechanical problems by the roadside.
At the swim start I discard my tri club swim coach’s advice to “sprint hard to get a good position” in favour of “start at the back and stay out of trouble”. It’s served me well.
On the course
Once I’m racing the main thought going through my head is “please don’t let me be last”. I’m working on switching this to “enjoy the experience” but it can be tough – especially when you’ve bonked on the bike and desperately need a wee during the run.
It’s important to celebrate minor triumphs. For me that’s overtaking someone (anyone!) on the bike leg.
Arriving at transition after the bike, ignore the people who have already finished who are hanging around and chatting. Think of the extra value for money you are getting from your race fee.
Critically, remember to smile when you go past a photographer.
The finish
Finally the finish line is in sight – hopefully the banner and the PA will still be there. It’s time for a final stagger, put on the best smile you can and cross fingers that they won’t have run out of drinks/the right size t-shirt/finisher medals.
Hug your support crew (if they’ll let you – mine is most accommodating even when I smell of sweat and duck poo), collect your bike from a deserted transition and congratulate yourself.