Quick post mortem before I drink too much beer and develop a wonderful pair of rose-tinted spectacles.

The Swim – still being on a vertical learning curve of swimming 1500 metre was always going to be challenge. Sure I’d get there eventually but lose so much time that my overall race performance would suffer. Sure enough, goggles kicked off within 10 metres and not being able to swim in a straight line for about the same distance meant that a 1500 metre swim was a case of sheer endurance that couldn’t be over fast enough. I made it and did a few 100 metres extra, just for larks, but didn’t drown, didn’t swallow too much of the bay and didn’t have to resort to breast stroke. Ironically I should have ‘cos even 4 strokes had me turning left meaning I swam some strange path that appears to have been drawn by someone with the tremors. I can only apologise to all those other competitors that swam over me – I honestly did know where I was going but my internal swim compass is wired weirdly… Being effectively a non-swimmer at Christmas my 400m, 750m and now 1500m events have pushed my swim tuition to the max and it’s still a long way from where I want to be.

The Ride – interestingly the first obstacle had been racking my bike. The rear-mounted water bottle hit the rack and then even with it removed the seat clipped the rack. The only way I could rack it was to tilt it slightly and squeeze it in. Only when I was swimming did I think how I was going to un-rack if if there was another bike next to it, or how I was going to rack it after the ride? Now I haven’t got the highest saddle in the world so we must have been given a dodgy rack. The ride is the best bit. Head down, arse up and giving it enough to hurt but not enough to destroy the run. It’s tempting to chase down other competitors but I’d made a plan and I was sticking to it. The swim plan had been not to drown. The bike plan, 32 km/h average. The roads were greasy and the windy sections took my aero wheels places I hadn’t expected but with rule #5 ever lurking over my shoulder I thought it best just to keep quiet and press on. I totally under-fueled on the bike. I found time for one muesli bar and a heavy gulp of salted orange juice and it later caught up with me.

The Run – now a quite familiar barrage there and back. The tri-suit, wet from the swim that became wetter on the ride was now just like a big nappy that you could feel clinging to the legs. Very windy on the exposed barrage section but the turnaround point gave us a fair wind in the mainsail and a welcome encouragement. Of course it was two laps so it was a head-wind again shortly… The lack of fuel on the bike caught me out at the end. The 4 Cliff shots I’d popped at the run start never kicked in by the end and my HR dropped into Zone 2 for the last 3K and I couldn’t step up the pace. The heart and lungs were willing but the tank was empty. I think it’s about time I switched to a bike-friendly fueling regime. Something that isn’t chewy, crunchy and stops you breathing might be a plan… Triathlon riding is nothing like sportive riding.

Still, I had 3 goals. Not drowning, 32 km/h on the bike and a 50 minute 10k. All achieved and ready for new benchmarks next time.And finally, this sport is so much fun when you’ve friends around you for competition but more importantly for support and encouragement and mutual motivation. Also without my sherpa Jane it would be whole lot less fun. xxx