Yesterday was an interesting race. It was my first race in Aussie (and I didn't see any jellies by the way), my first race of the season (yes, I'm a late starter this year) and my first sprint distance race. My time wasn't great, but who gives a toss, I finished. Am I proud of myself? Hell yes!
It all began with the 750m swim from hell - a 2-3ft swell didn't help me but I wasn't scared of the deep water. It was the swell that literally and figuratively knocked me about. I have never swum in a swell like that before, and I was reduced to swimming 30 strokes then having a rest. I swallowed plenty of sea water, got it up my nose, and breathed some in. Not so good! My asthma went beserk, I was wheezing like mad and really tired. I can now see how people drown - I was in no danger of doing so, but without the fitness and training, the wetsuit, and the lifesaver on her rescue board following me the whole way, it could have been very different.
So, finally exiting the water at around 34 minutes after the race start (shocking, I know, but you try swimming in that!), it was off to the bike. Most people were over the 15 minute mark on the swim, with the majority closer to 20 minutes - and these are people who are used to swimming in the bay and have done this distance in a race in that water on a regular basis!
I made a snap decision not to use my bike shoes and ride in my runners instead. I was so freaking tired after the swim that I was in no frame of mind to spend the better part of 20km worrying about falling off the bike. At about the 16km mark I had to stop for about 30 seconds of rest - I was still wheezy and felt like my chest was on fire. I had left my puffers behind because I haven't had to use ventolin in months and have never needed it in a race before. Next time, I'm leaving my bento on my bike and making sure I've got a ventolin in my bike bag.
The bike itself was okay. I was over 29km/h in places and down to 16km/h in others. There was a nasty headwind and crosswind for most of the race, so I sped up where I could. Apparently I took over an hour for the bike, which I'm not convinced about. This does include transition, so it is entirely possible. I had a gel before the race started, another on the bike and a pack of gel blasts at the start of the run. I think this is why my legs were still going (and going strong) on the run.
The run - ah yes, the run. Well, "run" might be more accurate. It was a slow jog for some of it, with the rest a fast walk. I finished the 5km in 46:04, which is more than two minutes faster than my 5km time from November (when I had fresh legs, no seawater in my lungs and hadn't just done 2/3 of a sprint tri). I was bloody pleased with this - and I felt like I could happily keep going. I did a sprint tri and managed a PB on the run? WTF? Who me? Oh hell yes!
Once the gel kicked in just before the 1km run turn, I was off. By 3km I was nearly flying, which for me is good. My legs were moving faster than my torso, which was quite funny. I was mentally fresher after the gel and the gel blasts kicked in, before this I think my carbs were running out - unsurprising considering I'd already been going two hours and I didn't get a lot of brekkie down at 5am. I just can't stomach food that early anymore. I had a coffee and an up and go, and even that was a struggle. Stupid gallstone - it will not control me anymore!
Triathlon is indeed a solo sport, as I spent most of the bike by myself and the whole run on my own too. By the time I crossed the already packed up finish line around 2:32:00, everyone had packed up and shipped out. I got back to the clubrooms and found out that I had been awarded what I'd like to call the "little Aussie battler" prize - a voucher for one of my favourite tri stores in Melbourne, because I didn't quit. I finished the whole shebang, and didn't give up. I happily accepted my prize, consumed my post-race treats (banana, choccie milk, cheese & crackers) had a massage, bought a giant coffee and went home to have elevenses (two Lindt milk balls and the giant latte).
So, I'm a little tired, a little sore, a little weary, and HUGELY proud of myself for finishing. Slow? Definitely. Fat? Dropping by the week. FAST? Getting there!
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