So, here I am on my 39th birthday and what did I decide to do, a 40km bike ride through the Welsh hills. The simple fact that my bike just had to be in the car and ready to go as soon as we made our way up here tells a story about how things have changed over the last 8 months or so. Back then the main thing I would have been making sure was in the car was a case of wine.
The triathlon buffoonery began in August 2012 when I did my first ever novice event, but maybe I will go through that another time. I have named myself 'Triathlon Muppet' due to the fact that I have had some absolute howlers so far in this wonderful new world. A moderately decent hockey player who had never done or understood any sort of endurance sport my early attempts have been somewhat comical.
Take last Sunday for example:
400m pool swim. All going well, I overtook a lady doing some half decent breast stroke and was in turn overtaken by a bloke who had better front crawl than me (not hard). One side of my goggles was leaking but that was fine apart from the fact that it felt like someone was holding my eye open and pouring neat chlorine into it. Then the bloke got out and I suddenly thought "I've counted my lengths wrong, I should be getting out!" So I stop half way down the length, look around dumbly and decide that I had better carry on. Then I stop again at the end of that length, should I get out now and run around the pool? No, the lady is still going I had better get going. Family on the balcony are also going ballistic. Turns out I had counted right in the first place.
Transition 1. Swim to bike.
I run to transition and efficiently put on jacket, socks (it was cold), bike shoes, sunglasses and helmet. I grab the bike and wave at the family banging madly on the windows on the balcony of the sports hall. It's only when I run out that I realise why they were shouting. The belt with my number on it is still on the floor of transition. Sheepishly returning to get it I wonder if I will be disqualified for going through the chip timing mechanism 4 times rather than two.
21km bike ride.
Transition 2. Bike to run.
The bike ride had gone really well, no calamities at all. Things are looking up. I run into transition and try to get my jacket off, zip well and truly stuck! Ok, I will run with it on. "Just take it off as you run and we will pick it up for you!" Shouts a despairing wife. Good idea I think and set off to run. "Shoes!" She yells. "Shoes!" Shouts my 7 year old daughter. Ah yes, I still have bike shoes on.
The run. 5km.
I am eventually running in the right shoes and have managed to get my jacket off. Nothing can go wrong from here. I find myself running alone having overtaken a couple of people struggling along. I follow some tape around a corner and then go around it at the end. After going around a building I see people running back towards me. My arms go up and the fit looking guy approaching laughs at me. "Round the lake mate," he calls. At least I have cheered him up. I retrace my steps and realise I should have kept going left rather than go around the end of tape. Only I can go the wrong way on a simple 2.5km loop of a field and lake. Odd looks appear on the faces of the triathletes I overtake for the second time. As I complete the first lap and call to Flissy that I had gone the wrong way the roll of the eyes was monumental.
I did finish.
My mate Andy beat me by a couple of minutes but I still managed to beat the middle brother (I am eldest of 3). One day bro!
Next tri muppet outing is on 6th May in Tonbridge. Oh, and Welsh hills are steep!
Triathlon Muppet
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