Only 4 days to go. The moment of truth approaches. This Saturday (9th July 2011) at 13:35 I enter the water with my fellow male sprint competitors to start the Upton Triathlon. First task to survive the 750m downstream swim in the river Severn. Next task, try to avoid being overtaken by too many of the sprint women who start 5 minutes later; fat chance there I feel as the swimming is by far my slowest event. Despite 6 months of training and well meaning coaching, I anticipate a energy sapping and inelegant 20-25 minute thrash in the water.
Swim over the fiendish challenge of getting out of the water and out of the wetsuit then arrives. This takes place in the full view of the majority of spectators at this event which is hardly surprising since it provides them with the most interesting and amusing sight of the event. Overweight and undertrained blokes trying to extracate themselves from rubber suits which they were assured should be on the small size to work properly. This is of course a conspiracy by triathlon organisers to ensure they get a good crowd but it can be a bit unpleasant viewing when too much compressed beer belly is released all of a sudden!
Wetsuit off and hopefully I will manage to get through the transition to the 21km bike ride without forgetting cycle helmet (compulsory), race number on back (compulsory) gloves, bum-bag with tools and spare inner tube and pump, sunglasses and, of course, cycle shoes. If I can do all that in less than 5 minutes it will be a miricle!. Less than 10 will be good going.
Once on the bike and attached to pedals I then have to contend with traffic (now closed roads on this event) and obscure no-drafting rules on the cycle leg of the race. No-drafting means no "tour de France" style peleton formation or slip-streaming from cyclists in front. In the rare event that I actually catch-up with another cyclist I then have a strict time limit in which to come within 8 metres, pass and then pull away. Not even time to say "hello, how its going?". Seems so complicated that it is probably best to avoid overtaking altogether.
After around 50-55 minutes (for that is my estimate of how long it will take me depending on how much the swim takes out of me) I will return to the cycle dismount zone. A strictly defined small patch of road a long way from the tranistion area where I will have to contort my feet to un-clip the shoes from the pedals without falling off. I then have to try running with the bike and cycle shoes (not easy) to the transition for the second time.
This time the tasks are: find where I left my kit; hope there is still a spot to re-rack my bike; remove helmet; remove cycle shoes; remove bum-bag; drink; put on running shoes; race number to front (compulsory), and then head off for the 5km run. This should be quicker than the first transition.
As I have already remarked in an earlier blog, running after cycling is a very wierd sensation. The legs are still trying to spin at 60-80 rpm and the butt muscles are locked into cycle based up and down mode rather than running front to rear. The next 5km will be akin to running on stilts (something I confess to have never done so technically I am not sure I am qualified to make this analogy) and if I am not completely wiped out I may get round in better than 9 minute miles so 25 minutes would be good.
So if the plan works, I will finish in under 2 hours including lengthy and no doubt hilarious transitions. I'll let you know if it goes to plan.
