This race report has been a long time coming.
I have actually been too shy to share it.
Grab a coffee, you could be here for a while
Pre Race
What the hell am I doing, it was 3:00 am in the morning, three days after my 40th birthday and I was up branding my arms with slimy Ironman tattoos in the kitchen. I was so tired I was suprised I didn't try to put the peanut butter on my arms and injest the tattoo pack instead, but I was awake, probably in shock. I grabbed my pre packed and highly organised bag and headed to the car. It was a long journey out to Penrith from where I was staying and I marvelled at all of the taxi cabs on the road. Being naive, I thought they were heading to the trialthon too. No, the only 'athlon' these people have been involved in is a danceathon or a drinkathon. Lucky ducks.
I arrived at the Regatta centre and it was still dark, yet it was a hive of activity already. Cars were adorned with empty bike racks that had just chauffered people with skinny legs and buldging calves. I looked am my little tree stumps and felt a bit out of sorts, maybe I was seeing things, as it was still dark after all.
After a long walk around the park, I ended up in the transition area where I had left my trusty Cervelo s3. Not only is she tiny (48 inch frame), but she was crowded by millions of dollars of perfect triathlon machinery. Some of these bikes so sharp, you could cut yourself. I wandered over to my spot which was a few racks closer to the back fence, but not far from the bike exit which was great. I set up my triathlon picnic blanket, trying to look like I knew what I was doing, I neatly ordered my bike and run gear on my newly aquired towel, I was excited to wear my new KASK helmet too. Red and black... my favourite colours. I pumped up my tyres and left transition. I lathered myself in sunscreen, even though I could still see the moon and ate a banana. Pffffffttttt went my guts. I have to go to the toilet. After nervously attending to my rumbling guts, I went and sat on the hill, looking around at the competitors, while I grabbed my spare tyre around my waist with dejection. I promised myself I would be in better shape. What could I do now? The weather cool but not overtly so, but I was shivering. I waited for my cattle call. I put on my cap, pressed my goggles to my face and thought, the only bloody way I am going to get out of this thing is to finish the damn thing. I was looking forward to the post race ice-cream that the Athlete's guide promised me would be in the recovery tent at the end. I was now in a new age group too - apparently the most competitive - 40-44 year olds. I act like I am 15, so maybe I should be in the kids group. Time to get into the water for a deep water start. Anything is deep for me, but I was glad... The slimy rocks wigged me out.
The Swim
Oh the water was warm, and green. Not like sea green, more like pond scum green, you could not see that far in front of you. I fart arsed around with my watch and before I knew it, BANG, I had started. Oh for the love of Zod, what am I doing? My newly made tri shirt was a little too big for me and it was gaping around my neck and riding up my waist. It was a non wetsuit swim which was great, because I didn't currently own one. Rookie. What the fuck is a speed suit. Why don't seagulls have eyebrows, what the dickens am I doing. It was like that time I thought I would be rock star, except I couldn't play my guitar that well and I'm scared shitless of everyone.
I was expecting more push and shove from these ladies but it was quite a tame start, I found my spot along side of the rowing ropes that dotted the lake all the way to the end and back. Swimming is my strongest leg. For someone who is 5ft tall, I spent most of my childhood and early teens in a swimming pool, chasing the black line. While it payed off until I was 10, everyone outgrew me and I was left in their wake. It did give me some positives such as I'm not scared of water at all and I still have retained a bit of technique...until the exhaustion rolled around. My tactic was to not overstretch myself in the swim. However, as I started to get a bit of fatigue, my right shoulder gives me grief and reduces the effect of my catch. Basically, I am like Nemo, my right 'Flipper' if you will turns into a useless, rubber extremity that doesn't do anything but waste potential energy. Top that off with the fact that every couple of metres, I would smack myself into the lane markers, thinking it was a person, I gave them an upper cut at any chance I could get. More wasted energy. I was on the home straight and I still had the final hook of the swim which led me to the gooey and slimy shore line. I was happy with my swim at this stage as the volunteers heaved me out of the water, while I pulled down my top that had made its way right up to my chest level. I mustered up a smile while I tried to pull my cap off and dizzly made it towards T1. I was 11th overall in my age group at this stage.
T1
As I made it to T1, the extremely short run from the shore to the transition was tougher than the swim. This made me reflect upon my swim already. Should I have gone harder? I progressively get worse as the day goes on so I was happy to conserve a bit. I put my shoes on grabbed my glasses and helmet and scoffed a couple of Clif Bloks. As I grabbed my bike, I choked on the Clif Bloks and I found the jelly like substance stuck in my nasal passage. I had food up my nose!
Bike
This is the first time I have done a triathlon on my Cervelo. I didn't worry about Tri bars, I just wanted to gauge how I felt to do such a long distance event. Meanwhile, I still had that Clif Blok stuck between my nasal passages and throat, so I endeavored to 'snot rocket' or cough it up. The snot rocket worked, however it landed on my bike and on my shoe. Well, it is going to stay put for now. I was just glad I got it out! The course was pretty flat and the first lap out there was pretty good. I was going a little faster than I usually would ride and the sun wasn't pelting down on my lily white skin. It was a very open course, not many trees or buildings to shelter you, however you could see the Blue Mountains in the horizon. Most of the people I was in front of in the swim went flying past me. I was struggling to get any real speed. The course got into the suburbs of Richmond (not Victoria, I didn't ride that far) and the roads were pretty hacked up. Over a bump I went and my whole spare kit and nutrition pack obviously wasn't secured properly so that went flying and I lost it. Being the rookie that I am, I put my bike on the side of the road like I was riding a BMX and went back and got it all, because I was worried I had no other nutrition and it was starting to get hot. Owwww my legs, I felt like I had no knees. I was pretty chuffed that on the way back to the Regatta Centre there is a little hill and I was able to coast down it. I also managed to grab a water bottle from the aid station on the way back too. There was a head wind and I had slowed considerably. I was starting to feel it a bit. Just weary. Not sick in the guts or anything. I also started to get those negative thoughts going a fair bit... oh wait smile for the camera like I've just stepped of my jet from Cannes! Once I rolled around into T2 I found it hard to get my feet out from my pedals but I was so happy that I managed to finish the ride with no dramas or flat tyres.
T2
I waddled my bike to the rack and got into my sneakers slowly, grabbed my hat and then mumbled like an old man waiting for a train at how I couldn't even put my race belt on. It was like I had spatula hands all of a sudden. My feet felt like Professor Klump's when he morphed back from Buddy Love in the car. I had a sip of my pre made electrolyte drink and pffffft spat it out because it tasted like hot tea and reminded me that I need to wee but I'm gonna have to wait, because I'm not stopping for anyone.
Run
I am short. I have short legs, I have a short stance, I have legs like a shot putter. I am built for power lifting, but yet here I am doing triathlon because I love it for some reason. I really do. Running isn't my thing but I have got a lot better at it. I never really went for runs or jogs, except after the ice cream home delivery truck and perhaps when I played team sports as a kid. So here I am thinking of all of these things, like ice cream, my short legs and stride and what is that damn noise. It's my bib crackling every step I take. I pull my bib up a little bit, so un-triathlon like, everyone has so low, I have it covering my stomach. The run took us out the back into the national park and around the streets for a bit which was good as it gave me something to look at. There were some spectators. I like spectators because I don't often have many people cheering for me and the people that do, are normally racing as well. There were a few little undulations and they were hard as I was really going quite slow. My left knee bears the brunt of my running because of my surgery where my ankle is held together with screws. It certainly lacks flexibility. I could feel that but kept going. Ooooo an aid station. Cola and watermelon were my best friends at this race. I scraped my sugary gels for these sweet and cold treats. I never drink cola, but nobody was watching so, down it went. As I headed back into the Regatta centre after watching a lot of cars leaving, it started to get hot in there and I still had to do 1 and a half laps of the place. I was behind another person struggling with the run but I couldn't get past him because I couldn't muster the energy to do so I just hung out with him. I hope he didn't mind. I could hear people finishing and the cruelest thing at this race is that you get so close to the finish line and you have to turn an do another lap. I had to go back and around so I could get my little green band. The way back around was tough. I was starting to get the 'Why don't you just stop and walk' voices in my head. Kind of like the why don't just buy two blocks of chocolate so you can save one for later type thing. I promised myself I wouldn't stop running except for aid stations. I knew this race wasn't going to be fast but I just wanted to finish. As I came around the last bend, I grabbed my last cola drink and watermelon slice and picked up my pace. I had a couple of people call out my name and say I was almost there, I was just excited they knew my name. How? I am not sureeee... wait... my bib, derrrr. Seeing the finish chute and distinctive red ironman carpet sent shivers up my spine. Maybe I was in delirious but I never thought I would ever in my life finish a race like this. Unfortunately, there was no crowd at the finishing chute to cheer me on, there were no cow bells or high fives, but I was so emotional to finish and get my ice cream... I mean my medal. That medal means the world to me. The sensation from running for hours to slowing down to nothing was a weird experience and I shuffled to finishers tent where there was no bloody ice cream left, but meh, I didn't need it after that.
I finished the race in 26th spot in my age group in 6 hours 50. Slow, but I felt proud of what I had achieved. 20 year old me would never had done this. She just would have had the ice cream.
I have actually been too shy to share it.
Grab a coffee, you could be here for a while
Pre Race
What the hell am I doing, it was 3:00 am in the morning, three days after my 40th birthday and I was up branding my arms with slimy Ironman tattoos in the kitchen. I was so tired I was suprised I didn't try to put the peanut butter on my arms and injest the tattoo pack instead, but I was awake, probably in shock. I grabbed my pre packed and highly organised bag and headed to the car. It was a long journey out to Penrith from where I was staying and I marvelled at all of the taxi cabs on the road. Being naive, I thought they were heading to the trialthon too. No, the only 'athlon' these people have been involved in is a danceathon or a drinkathon. Lucky ducks.
I arrived at the Regatta centre and it was still dark, yet it was a hive of activity already. Cars were adorned with empty bike racks that had just chauffered people with skinny legs and buldging calves. I looked am my little tree stumps and felt a bit out of sorts, maybe I was seeing things, as it was still dark after all.
After a long walk around the park, I ended up in the transition area where I had left my trusty Cervelo s3. Not only is she tiny (48 inch frame), but she was crowded by millions of dollars of perfect triathlon machinery. Some of these bikes so sharp, you could cut yourself. I wandered over to my spot which was a few racks closer to the back fence, but not far from the bike exit which was great. I set up my triathlon picnic blanket, trying to look like I knew what I was doing, I neatly ordered my bike and run gear on my newly aquired towel, I was excited to wear my new KASK helmet too. Red and black... my favourite colours. I pumped up my tyres and left transition. I lathered myself in sunscreen, even though I could still see the moon and ate a banana. Pffffffttttt went my guts. I have to go to the toilet. After nervously attending to my rumbling guts, I went and sat on the hill, looking around at the competitors, while I grabbed my spare tyre around my waist with dejection. I promised myself I would be in better shape. What could I do now? The weather cool but not overtly so, but I was shivering. I waited for my cattle call. I put on my cap, pressed my goggles to my face and thought, the only bloody way I am going to get out of this thing is to finish the damn thing. I was looking forward to the post race ice-cream that the Athlete's guide promised me would be in the recovery tent at the end. I was now in a new age group too - apparently the most competitive - 40-44 year olds. I act like I am 15, so maybe I should be in the kids group. Time to get into the water for a deep water start. Anything is deep for me, but I was glad... The slimy rocks wigged me out.
The Swim
Oh the water was warm, and green. Not like sea green, more like pond scum green, you could not see that far in front of you. I fart arsed around with my watch and before I knew it, BANG, I had started. Oh for the love of Zod, what am I doing? My newly made tri shirt was a little too big for me and it was gaping around my neck and riding up my waist. It was a non wetsuit swim which was great, because I didn't currently own one. Rookie. What the fuck is a speed suit. Why don't seagulls have eyebrows, what the dickens am I doing. It was like that time I thought I would be rock star, except I couldn't play my guitar that well and I'm scared shitless of everyone.
I was expecting more push and shove from these ladies but it was quite a tame start, I found my spot along side of the rowing ropes that dotted the lake all the way to the end and back. Swimming is my strongest leg. For someone who is 5ft tall, I spent most of my childhood and early teens in a swimming pool, chasing the black line. While it payed off until I was 10, everyone outgrew me and I was left in their wake. It did give me some positives such as I'm not scared of water at all and I still have retained a bit of technique...until the exhaustion rolled around. My tactic was to not overstretch myself in the swim. However, as I started to get a bit of fatigue, my right shoulder gives me grief and reduces the effect of my catch. Basically, I am like Nemo, my right 'Flipper' if you will turns into a useless, rubber extremity that doesn't do anything but waste potential energy. Top that off with the fact that every couple of metres, I would smack myself into the lane markers, thinking it was a person, I gave them an upper cut at any chance I could get. More wasted energy. I was on the home straight and I still had the final hook of the swim which led me to the gooey and slimy shore line. I was happy with my swim at this stage as the volunteers heaved me out of the water, while I pulled down my top that had made its way right up to my chest level. I mustered up a smile while I tried to pull my cap off and dizzly made it towards T1. I was 11th overall in my age group at this stage.
T1
As I made it to T1, the extremely short run from the shore to the transition was tougher than the swim. This made me reflect upon my swim already. Should I have gone harder? I progressively get worse as the day goes on so I was happy to conserve a bit. I put my shoes on grabbed my glasses and helmet and scoffed a couple of Clif Bloks. As I grabbed my bike, I choked on the Clif Bloks and I found the jelly like substance stuck in my nasal passage. I had food up my nose!
Bike
This is the first time I have done a triathlon on my Cervelo. I didn't worry about Tri bars, I just wanted to gauge how I felt to do such a long distance event. Meanwhile, I still had that Clif Blok stuck between my nasal passages and throat, so I endeavored to 'snot rocket' or cough it up. The snot rocket worked, however it landed on my bike and on my shoe. Well, it is going to stay put for now. I was just glad I got it out! The course was pretty flat and the first lap out there was pretty good. I was going a little faster than I usually would ride and the sun wasn't pelting down on my lily white skin. It was a very open course, not many trees or buildings to shelter you, however you could see the Blue Mountains in the horizon. Most of the people I was in front of in the swim went flying past me. I was struggling to get any real speed. The course got into the suburbs of Richmond (not Victoria, I didn't ride that far) and the roads were pretty hacked up. Over a bump I went and my whole spare kit and nutrition pack obviously wasn't secured properly so that went flying and I lost it. Being the rookie that I am, I put my bike on the side of the road like I was riding a BMX and went back and got it all, because I was worried I had no other nutrition and it was starting to get hot. Owwww my legs, I felt like I had no knees. I was pretty chuffed that on the way back to the Regatta Centre there is a little hill and I was able to coast down it. I also managed to grab a water bottle from the aid station on the way back too. There was a head wind and I had slowed considerably. I was starting to feel it a bit. Just weary. Not sick in the guts or anything. I also started to get those negative thoughts going a fair bit... oh wait smile for the camera like I've just stepped of my jet from Cannes! Once I rolled around into T2 I found it hard to get my feet out from my pedals but I was so happy that I managed to finish the ride with no dramas or flat tyres.
T2
I waddled my bike to the rack and got into my sneakers slowly, grabbed my hat and then mumbled like an old man waiting for a train at how I couldn't even put my race belt on. It was like I had spatula hands all of a sudden. My feet felt like Professor Klump's when he morphed back from Buddy Love in the car. I had a sip of my pre made electrolyte drink and pffffft spat it out because it tasted like hot tea and reminded me that I need to wee but I'm gonna have to wait, because I'm not stopping for anyone.
Run
I am short. I have short legs, I have a short stance, I have legs like a shot putter. I am built for power lifting, but yet here I am doing triathlon because I love it for some reason. I really do. Running isn't my thing but I have got a lot better at it. I never really went for runs or jogs, except after the ice cream home delivery truck and perhaps when I played team sports as a kid. So here I am thinking of all of these things, like ice cream, my short legs and stride and what is that damn noise. It's my bib crackling every step I take. I pull my bib up a little bit, so un-triathlon like, everyone has so low, I have it covering my stomach. The run took us out the back into the national park and around the streets for a bit which was good as it gave me something to look at. There were some spectators. I like spectators because I don't often have many people cheering for me and the people that do, are normally racing as well. There were a few little undulations and they were hard as I was really going quite slow. My left knee bears the brunt of my running because of my surgery where my ankle is held together with screws. It certainly lacks flexibility. I could feel that but kept going. Ooooo an aid station. Cola and watermelon were my best friends at this race. I scraped my sugary gels for these sweet and cold treats. I never drink cola, but nobody was watching so, down it went. As I headed back into the Regatta centre after watching a lot of cars leaving, it started to get hot in there and I still had to do 1 and a half laps of the place. I was behind another person struggling with the run but I couldn't get past him because I couldn't muster the energy to do so I just hung out with him. I hope he didn't mind. I could hear people finishing and the cruelest thing at this race is that you get so close to the finish line and you have to turn an do another lap. I had to go back and around so I could get my little green band. The way back around was tough. I was starting to get the 'Why don't you just stop and walk' voices in my head. Kind of like the why don't just buy two blocks of chocolate so you can save one for later type thing. I promised myself I wouldn't stop running except for aid stations. I knew this race wasn't going to be fast but I just wanted to finish. As I came around the last bend, I grabbed my last cola drink and watermelon slice and picked up my pace. I had a couple of people call out my name and say I was almost there, I was just excited they knew my name. How? I am not sureeee... wait... my bib, derrrr. Seeing the finish chute and distinctive red ironman carpet sent shivers up my spine. Maybe I was in delirious but I never thought I would ever in my life finish a race like this. Unfortunately, there was no crowd at the finishing chute to cheer me on, there were no cow bells or high fives, but I was so emotional to finish and get my ice cream... I mean my medal. That medal means the world to me. The sensation from running for hours to slowing down to nothing was a weird experience and I shuffled to finishers tent where there was no bloody ice cream left, but meh, I didn't need it after that.
I finished the race in 26th spot in my age group in 6 hours 50. Slow, but I felt proud of what I had achieved. 20 year old me would never had done this. She just would have had the ice cream.
Not the best photo, but my finishers photo none the less. I think the camera guy is a sleep.
