Has been a little while since an update here hasn't it. Well - this summer I've been using my holidays for festivals, as usual, and unlike last year I've not tried to cram some walking into every free weekend, what with there being DIY stuff that I really needed to catch up on. I suppose I could write about the festivals... maybe for the next one. Still, the triathlon certainly seems worth a mention. Not the first one I've done, that was London back in 2011, then in '12 and '13 I did London again, then Birmingham, in a team with my friends Sam and Alex. The team thing was good as I just did the cycling, the bit I'm actually good at... but this year I thought I should push myself a bit.
Sunday morning then - early Sunday morning. One of my biggest worries was that my alarm would go off at 5am and I simply wouldn't be able to face getting up to do the thing, in the event though the battery in my carbon monoxide alarm picks this very moment to expire, so I am forced to get up and hunt out the source of the high pitched beeping. Might as well go and do the tri then. A quick cycle to Greenwich, through the foot tunnel and then along the river, and I'm at the Excel Center in good time for my 7.30 start. Rack up my bike, attach the timing chip to my ankle, wetsuit on, and off to the start... there seems to be some sort of delay, and then my group is big enough that they have to split it in two, I'm happy to be in the second sub-group. But by 7.35 or so I'm in the water, the hooter sounds, and we're off.
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| Pedalling along. |
Swimming is not really my strong suit. Bottom line is I am slow, and last time the mile swim, that the stars of the sport do in twenty minutes or so, took me an hour, including a minute or two clinging to a canoe while I got my breath back. I have been training, but not in open water... in the event the wetsuit isn't a problem, but just as last time, swimming in a straight line is. The route starts off straight towards the sun, not a good thing to use as a reference given it moves, and making out anything else in the glare is hard. Several times I find myself swimming the wrong way, more than once bumping into the boundary rope, and heaven knows how much this adds to the distance. Still, I reach the turnaround, and without the sun in my eyes things are better. I find that my legs, which I don't use much for swimming as I get out of breath when I do, are getting kind of cold... feeding in a bit more power there I seem to go faster and am still breathing OK. I can do this! It is disappointing then when the next wave of swimmers, the 8am starters, begin to overtake me - well, I did start a bit late. I pull a little to the left to let them pass, the swim continues, and eventually I reach the second turnaround. Can't be long now, but I'm facing the sun again, not totally sure where I'm going, and the water churns with swimmers overtaking. It is hard to get any proper stroke going and frankly this is no fun at all... I swim into a boundary rope again, reorient and then spot the exit, and put one last effort into reaching it. Back on dry land I feel shattered, light-headed and can barely stand, let alone get my wetsuit off and run along with it - but that's what I have to do.
At least my bike is easy to find - being one of only a few left at transition. It is so tempting just to sit down for a bit, but after pulling on my clothes, shoes and (mandatory) helmet, I grab the bike and wheel it out of the building. Once outside I'm allowed to get on the thing, and am soon pedalling west. This bit I can at least do - a bit. The other competitors are still overtaking me, but probably not going twice as fast, and I seem to be making a fair pace through the wilds of East London, past Billingsgate Fish Market and on to Tower Bridge, following the route taken by the Tour de France a few weeks back. My legs are feeling it a little though, and with a bit of a headwind this is hard work. Still, at this pace it doesn't take long to reach Parliament Square, where I turn and now have the wind behind me. I grab one of the fruit pastilles secreted on the bike and power along the Embankment, this is actually fun, and on reaching the Limehouse Link tunnel I manage a sustained period in top gear. That is the first lap pretty much done, the second is shorter and barring a small disaster (the last fruit pastille on the bike has escaped somehow!), I get back to the Excel with no problems.
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| Running out of the Excel Centre. |
It all goes a bit wrong in transition though, as I just can't find my space among the hundreds of bikes now racked up. I could just leave my bike in any space I suppose, but I don't like to - and damn it, I want the rest of those fruit pastilles. After wandering around for probably several minutes, I find where somebody has put their bike right on top of my stuff, grr. At least it was a bit of a rest, and so despite the trials of the last two and a half hours I'm able to jog out of the building. Just six miles to go... I've been running a bit, and it is just putting one foot in front of the other really, and here is where most of the spectators are which is nice, having people cheering you along does help. It is hard though, my legs are hurting and there is a voice in the back of my mind saying, 'just walk it'. The thought of the embarrassment of doing that in front of all these people is probably all that stops me, so I keep running, grabbing some water when I can, and eating my way through my packet of pastilles. It is, after all, only six miles, three laps alongside the docks. The distance actually goes by in something of a blur, and before I know it I'm turning at the halfway point of my third lap, just a mile to go. No way I'm going to stop running now, and in fact as I pass a tent pumping out music, adrenaline kicks in and I speed up. Coming into the building with the finish in sight, there is an odd feeling of euphoria - I guess this is why runners talk about the addiction of the thing, to be honest I am not convinced it is worth it. Still, I manage to sprint to the line, and this year I've finished in under three and a half hours. Rubbish it may be, but it's a personal best - keep improving at this rate and I'll be under three hours by the time I'm, er, fifty. This assuming I ever do this crazy thing again...
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| With my medal, and wetsuit out to dry. |
Photos to go with this post can be found here.
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