|At the end. Done, dusted, tired.|
I’m tempted to begin at the end of this story and tell you that I don’t enjoy triathlons. That’d be a lie, but I figure context may help you understand why I’m tempted to say such a thing. Last night my bed broke. It’s pretty old and the bottom just sort of separated from the rest, for no apparent reason. Last night my sink broke. The washer did something weird and it started leaking dirty water everywhere – including on food that was in the cupboard below it. I slept on my mattress on the floor last night, in a flat that smelt like dirty dish water.
With that in mind, a bunch of us set out for Pink Triathlon today. Before I left the house, I made coffee wrong – twice. First I forgot the filter. Second I forgot the beans. Third time worked, though. With coffee in my system, we got to Sydney Olympic Park, set up our transition point, and got under way.
Swim leg was great. I was a bit slow, but that was expected. I can swim, but not fast. That was fine with me. The crowd in the pool was tough, though. A lot of people. A lot of flailing legs and arms to watch out for. It was a good start, though. I like the water. It makes me feel at home.
Bike leg was next. I got to the transition point, scrambled to get shoes on, ate a Bounce protein bar (amazing stuff, by the way), wheeled my bike out to the road, and got on. Something wasn’t right, though. Every movement was hard, and it wasn’t my muscles that were wrong – it was the bike. I figured that once I hit the downhill, I’d be fine. Nope. It got harder to move. I got off and checked the tyres. One of the was flat. I got back on – pushed on. My chain fell off. I paused, breathed, and decided that to keep going was probably dangerous for me and anyone else on the course. I walked back to the transition point.
An official and I talked for a moment, and they told me to shrug off the bike leg, and just take on the run. I drank some water, and then set off to finish well, even if the middle had been rocky. The run was smooth and easy. No hills. I walked part of it, even so. Finally, finally, I found the finish line and a drink at the end.
But, I wont lie, my favourite moment was when myself and Nikki jumped back onto the course at the end to run to the finish with Stacey. It was a great feeling. The double shot latte I had afterwards was also pretty great.
In conclusion, triathlons aren’t my favourite. I doubt they ever will be. But today I learnt that sometimes things go wrong, and you just have to keep going and finish the race in spite of that. It didn’t make it any less of an achievement, it just meant it was a different sort of achievement.
But I’ll stick with mud runs from now on, yeah?
Oh! Tough Mudder photos were put up this week. Here they are: