Trying Hard!

5:30 and I was contemplating why I loved triathlon, both the training and racing. The first bit is easy. Some people have over active thyroids! I have an over active brain. Training is my escape into a world of calm. I love racing as it allows me to enter the domain.....a place where sheer will takes over from the rational compulsionary feeling to stop.

Watching the Olympics or whatever, the commentators always talk of the sacrifices athletes make to be successful. Whilst invariably true, far more people with less preferable genetics make similar sacrifices to simply to do their best. The reward? A much lighter bank balance and a hormonal imbalance. I'm in the latter group, slightly better than average but it takes about 2 hours of training a day to get there. I love it!

It was the day of my big race and I was lying in a tent in the grounds of Newby Hall near Ripon. Rosemary had recommended the race as it was flat and non-technical, perfect for me. I was secretly pleased (not a secret anymore) that Rosemary was volunteering, enabling me to do my own thing. I don't get stressed when I have myself for company. Rather, I just got on with prep, listening to some deep techno on the iPod. Not only does it get me in the mood, it stops other competitors asking me daft questions.

I was glad to catch R before I went off to the start though....a good luck kiss is important. It had started raining as the whole field, of around 200, processed down to the river. I was in the slowly flowing and murky river 2nd. It would be over 10 minutes before everyone else was in. I did 10 wee sprint efforts and then found a place towards the front of the field. I was relaxed, joking with a few fellow competitors, but was ready to go.

My positioning was perfect as I avoided getting punched or kicked too much, yet was in the fastest part of the river. Some said that 'sighting' isn't an issue in a river, but I found the opposite. It was quite a challenge not to meander off the shortest line. Just past half way I picked out Rosemary's pink top on the bank. I nearly flipped onto my back to shout 'coooeee' but it was my target race so thought better of it.

The buoy signifying the water exit was a welcome sight as the swimming muscles were fatiguing. A small jetty had been erected and two guys standing on it heaved me out. Target 1 hit! Swim exit 24:58 for 1500m. The run to the bike transition was a long one, but it was carpeted or was on the stunningly manicured lawns of Newby Hall. Bliss!

I was soon in transition and my early birthday present, a nice wetsuit, popped of as it should. I was soon into the 40km bike. The only slight mishap of the day.....my glasses steamed up in the un-forecast damp conditions and visibility was poor. No pocket to put them in either! Once on the fast roads, I was down in my time trial position, passing small groups of riders quickly. 'Woahhhh.....' I felt another shoulder hit mine as a guy passed me on a roundabout! Idiot! But no harm done.

It was starting to get challenging as un disciplined or inexperienced riders were passing and but not maintaining their speed, meaning drafting (against the rules/cheating) was difficult to avoid. Kirkland got into the Brownlee mode and started yelling at those who were getting it wrong. Then to my astoundment, number 156 (yes you!) passed me on the inside, on the inside of the white line too! Profanity roared from my potty mouth at the dangerous fool! It's the most idiotic move I've ever seen in a triathlon.

"Chimp in the cage Kirkland......chimp in the cage" I said to myself. The rest of the ride wasn't too bad, albeit with me continually reminding people to stop drafting. My fav one was a comment to one chap "you've got the aero-helmet, you've got the bike and you've got the calf-guards.....all you need now is a rule book....". I knew I was relaxed as the 1st thing to go when I'm not is my sense of humour. Then I saw number 156! I pulled alongside him. "Never in all my years riding have I come across such a dangerous idiot" I said. "We'll chat a after the race" he said, in a rather menacing fashion.
Only 5km to go and a quick mental check.....drink....food.....gearing, and I eased off a little to take on a gel, have a drink and think about T2. 156 was now ahead again. I can't remember where I saw Rosemary for the 1st time but she looked startled and said later that she hadn't expected me so soon.....hah! That's faith for ya! Transition could have been a tad quicker but I took the time to put my smartwool socks on for comfort. It's a fine line between choosing between bleeding feet or losing a few seconds!

I was soon into my running and enjoying it! More trigger words "relax.....run tall....fast". I saw 156 ahead! He looked hard! I gave him a tap, smiled and shook his hand as I went past...."you're still a twat" I thought to myself but racing is about fun, not getting into fights. I saw Rosemary again....I joked a little with her and had a bit light banter with the guy next to me too! This was fun! Only 3km to go and a guy dressed in red tried to go past! "No you don't sunshine" and I upped the pace. The going was really tough but I still managed a little kick in the last few hundred metres! "Got him" as I crossed the line in 2hrs 22mins exactly.

As I lay on the ground I smiled! My plan had been executed perfectly and I had put in a respectable time. Although, now recognised as a wee bit of an expert on the sport (just written a piece for 220 magazine) it's not easy to get it right yourself. I had a nagging doubt that I could have gone a wee bit faster; if that doubt is not there it's time to give up. However, if I was doing the race again to tomorrow I wouldn't have changed anything.....well apart from finding a way to avoid the 18km ride to the train station. Thankfully, Rosemary dug her heels in and insisted on carrying all my heavy stuff.