Race report: People's Tri, Mission Bay

I think with the exception of Mascara Massacre's game against Dead Wreckoning when we went up against the most feared team in the league with nine players on the bench I've never been so nervous before a sporting event as I was this morning. For all my bravura on this very blog I was nervous. When I'd picked up my race pack the day before, it was blowing a gale and the waves in the bay looked big. Very big. I tried not to think too much about it, but I was well aware that the swim was going to be my weakest event (I'm very confident in water and have excellent endurance in the pool, but my front crawl technique is abysmal and unless I'm wearing SCUBA gear I've not done any sea swimming this year) and the idea of doing it in a freezing washing machine really didn't inspire confidence.

Looking terrified before the race

I woke up at 5am (on a Sunday. Never seen Sunday 5am from this side before I don't think) and got on the road pretty quickly. It was weird, driving through town and getting caught in a traffic jam made up entirely of cabs taking the wrecked and reckless home. If you'd told me a few years ago that I'd be one of those weirdos in sports gear that I would occasionally see on my way home from a night out, I wouldn't have believed you. As I drove to the Bay I went over my three goals:

1. Finish
2. Finish in under two hours
3. Run the whole 5k apart from the water stop

I was reasonably convinced I could do the first, but 2 & 3? Total unknowns. Just so long as I finished. (there was Secret Goal #4: Don't come last, but I wasn't going to hold my breath)

The Bruja staging area

I will forever be grateful to Jayne Williams, author of The Slow Fat Triathlete, for including a comprehensive little checklist and gear list for new triathletes. In addition to having pretty much everything I needed, it also meant that I had more than no idea on how to set up my staging area and how I should be spending my time pre-race. I was lucky enough to pitch up next to another woman who was on a clunky mountain bike, and she made me feel a lot better about my inability to freestyle properly, having a bike that looked like it belonged in a museum, and even strapped my ankle for me (talk about being a helpless newb). The waves were still savage, but after a quick dip in the sea I felt better, as dealing with wild water is bad enough without it being freezing as well.

I followed my new friend's advice and took my time jumping in when the siren sounded. The first wave threw the whole pack around like we were nothing and I knew this was going to be interesting. I must have swallowed a good amount of water as I struggled to the first buoy, swapping freestyle for breaststroke as the waves demanded. I was about half way to the first marker when one of the Very Serious Triathletes passed me on the way back to the start line, saying "It's too much- good luck!" to me as she swam back to safety. Thankfully, as soon as I passed the first marker I started swimming with the tide and the rest of it was much easier than it had looked on shore. Not too easy though, at one point lifeguard-in-a-kayak came over to see that I was swimming and not drowning so I can't have looked too confident in there.

Staggering on shore and to my first transition. I washed the sand off my feet, jammed my trainers on, tried to get the taste of brine out my mouth and I was off. The cycling I'm pleased to say was easy. I passed a fair few people who'd smoked me on the swim, and my heavy bike was able to deal with the howling wind better then some of the incredibly light race bikes (there were a couple with the solid-looking wheels, which must have been a bitch to ride in those conditions). My tri suit dried out incredibly fast and certainly paid for itself on its first outing. Tamaki Drive for those of you who don't know Auckland is flat and perfect for riding so the 20km passed in what felt like seconds (actually just under an hour). I managed to smile and even make a joke or two with the stewards at the checkpoints, and got a big cheer from the crowd at the end of my first lap when I yelled out "HALF WAY, GET IN!".

I made my second transition pretty quickly, as I was cycling in my running shoes and just needed to lose the bike, helmet, sunglasses and gain an MP3 player. With my favourite running music (thumping techno like you're interested) I headed off on the final leg.

I'd been warned of the rubberising effects of the cycle section and my legs did indeed feel like they were incapable of independent movement for the first few hundred metres. However, it wasn't long before I hit my stride and started eating the metres. I told myself that if I could make the half-way mark by running the whole way, I could walk the final couple of k if I felt the need. Happily, at the station I stopped for a glass of water, and realised there was plenty left in the tank; I could do this. As I rounded a corner about a kilometer away from the finish the wind hit me like a wall, I was aware of still running but barely moving. I had the bit between my teeth now though, and pushed on through to the end, bounding up the finish ramp with a feeling of absolute exhiliration.

I managed to complete in 1 hour and 46 minutes, which is pretty damn respectable. I didn't come last, I ran the whole way, and I certainly finished. Mission well and truly accomplished.

It's hard to explain just how finishing, and finishing strongly, has left me feeling. I feel like I can finally start moving on from the accident. I feel like I'm fitter than I ever thought possible. I feel like I can do another one of these, another ten of these, and get better every time.

It's been just under four months since the accident, and I just finished a sprint distance triathlon in appalling conditions. I have to ask, if you're reading this: what's stopping you?