Super sprint triathlon.
I did it.
Around 6 weeks ago, my good friend Andrew George sent me a link to the Chichester Westgate Triathlon Club’s GoTri event – a super sprint event aimed at beginners and first timers.
I mulled over it for a couple of weeks, then signed up. For £7.50, what was there to lose? I sent him an “OMG my finger slipped I think I’m in” email. He laughed and said he had only been joking, but I knew secretly he was quite pleased that he had indeed dangled a carrot, and this silly ass bit it.
Today was the day. I was supported by the ever present Hopkins. And the carrot dangler Mr George. And also by Junior George, the lovely Evie, who is now my team mascot.
So what did I learn?
Well I can honestly say that by the time I arrived just before 9am this morning, I was absolutely sick to the pit of my stomach.
As a first timer, I was ill preparerd kit wise, but everyone starts somewhere, and I was relieved to see others with ordinary bikes, swimming costumes. Just stuff. Few had “all the gear” I was pleased however that my leggy costume did look ok, even if my un-model-like shape took the edge off it. And when they wrote the number on my arm and leg in that indelible marker, I started to feel the part.
I am a crap swimmer. Actually, Hopkins has corrected me, I am an ineffectual swimmer. All of the effort for absolute no speed at all. I can’t coordinate my breathing for the crawl, so I opted for my snail like breast stroke. I frequently caught another lady’s bow wave and this unsettled me. I can float for hours, but I’m not a strong swimmer. I do need lessons and need to be taught to coordinate breathing, and arms and legs.
We had to leave shoes at the back door of the pool because we then had to run from the pool to the transition area nearby. As I intended wearing socks with my shoes, I pondered the need to have towel, talc, socks and shoes at the back door. I opted to leave my crocs, and sort my feet at transition. I am eternally grateful for Hopkins not videoing this section. Crocs squeak when wet.
Wet. Yes. My feet blister like peaches, so I do wear socks. Talc applied, socks on, shoes on, top on……. uh oh. Cycling shorts took a bit to get on. Got that arse for elbow. I spent a lot of time here, but not as much time as the lady who sent some texts, got some gear on and sent some more txts. My delays were due to the damp clothing and I now have permission to purchase a Tri suit.
Despite not being on my bike at all really in almost 3 years, I couldn’t complain about my ride. I have an urban bike, and it’s slow and heavy. I was envious of the ladies on their drop handlebar bikes.
I was annoyed that the others either side of me returned their bikes and left me less space than I had previously. It was a faff to get my bike back in. Wide urban handlebars. No good..
I had been warned that the legs would be rubbish after the ride. OMG the Quads????? Treacle. It was like running through treacle. And the damp!!! By now all the damp that had run off me was in my cycling shorts and they were so very heavy, so it took the best part of 500m to tie the waist tighter so I didn’t look a right dreepy drawers (anc. Scots – trousers hanging low). The run was a different kind of tired altogether than anything I have previously experienced, so I need to cycle more.
I’m even more driven to get a proper road bike again.
Sprint finish. No, no sprint finish, but i wasn’t the last to cross the line.
I finished in just under 40 minutes, which was my target.