Race Report – Athy Triathlon, 30th May 2009 by Grainne O'Neill
I had made the decision to try a couple of Olympic distance events this year on the basis that, being more of a tortoise than a hare, my times weren’t getting a whole lot faster and the longer distance events might suit me better. I had been thinking about target times but in view of the fact that Athy was to be my first such event, I convinced myself last week that I should forget about times and simply concentrate on finishing (and hopefully enjoying) the race. I had put in a fair bit of work over the last few months and perhaps that was what resulted in my feeling a surprising lack of nerves in the lead up to kick-off on Saturday. The fact that there was such good weather meant that on the early morning drive from Athlone, I was really looking forward to the race.
From the time I arrived it was great to see so many members from A.T.C and having registered I made my way to the Transition Area (poles apart from the mess they call Transition for TriAthlone) The new club Tri suits were a visible presence and there was plenty of friendly banter and the exchange of what proved to be useful information e.g. Conor told me to maximise the current by swimming in the middle of the river until the turnaround point and then hugging the Bank on the way back to Transition. That certainly proved to be advice worth following. There was such a pleasant atmosphere before the race that I still didn’t feel any trace of nerves, which I figured might not necessarily be a good thing and so was strangely relieved by the onset of butterflies when they announced it was time to leave Transition and make our way to the start of the swim.
There was only one female wave for the Olympic distance and we were scheduled to head off at 10.45 – just after the fast wave/Elites. In fact they started us off a little before 10.45 and because the start of the swim can be messy, I made the decision to hang back until things levelled out a little. Because of the current it took longer than it ordinarily would for people to find their natural level, so there was plenty of pushing and shoving but I did my best to follow Conors advice and stay in the middle of the River. The current was certainly strong and there wasn’t a whole lot of effort required to progress. We continued past the 750 metre mark to the next Bridge and only at that point turned to face back into the current. Truth be told, a corpse in a wet suit could have comfortably made it to that point. In fact, there is a good chance a corpse could have done it in a faster time than me, given that he or she would have been a lot less likely to be perturbed by kicks to the head and elbows to the kidneys. However, when we turned into the current, it was apparent that a number of swimmers were struggling and fell back at that stage. I headed towards the Bank and got a nice confidence-booster from the fact that several of the swimmers around me fell back while, if anything, I was feeling more comfortable. I had no trouble completing the 1,500 metres and hardly used my legs at all. That I enjoyed the swim so much and that it took so little out of me, is thanks in no small part to Dave McCourt. We were in the same lane for a morning swim in around October of last year, when I discovered that Dave was training for an Iron Man and I figured it could do me no harm to follow whatever training programme he was on. Thus his pool stalker was born and poor Dave has let me tag along behind him three or four mornings a week ever since - for that I am indebted to him. I don’t have an official time for my race (more about that later) but think I finished the swim in about 27/28 minutes and headed for Transition where I was to make two incredibly stupid mistakes.
The first was to put my club T-shirt (black and therefore an absorber of the sun) on over my tri suit. I figured that the good people of Athy had done nothing to deserve being subjected to the vision of me running through their streets in a tri suit. Making that decision on a sunny day was idiotic. Next time, bugger the locals, I’ll be concentrating on making myself as comfortable as possible. The second and even more idiotic mistake was when, in an effort to minimise transition time, I put on my runners and didn’t bother with socks – a decision to do something like that for the first time on race day brings stupidity to a whole new level. It will never be repeated but I suppose it’s all a learning curve and so long as mistakes are learned from, improvements will be made.
I headed off on the bike conscious of the fact that I should try and take in as much water as possible. I wasn’t far out the road when I saw Gavin Noble walking back in the opposite direction with obvious bike trouble. I momentarily toyed with the idea of offering him mine but 1. I’m not that magnanimous and 2. I doubt he’d have been that delighted with my set of wheels, given that what he motors along on looks like the makings of a nice Pension Fund for Conor if he could sell a few of them.
There was a slight wind on the outward leg of the cycle but nothing that was going to cause serious difficulty and I have to say I enjoyed the 40K’s from start to finish. It was great at points along the way to see and exchange encouraging words with other A.T.C members and when I was turning to head out from Athy for the second time, Padraig flew past me looking very comfortable and obviously enjoying himself.
My cycle leg was helped by the distraction of a cat and mouse game with a girl from the Wicklow Triathlon Club. She passed me a couple of k’s in and I decided to try and stay with her. For the duration of the cycle this continued with each of us taking turns to pass each other out and the odd effort at a chat. I thoroughly enjoyed myself and could have done a faster time but was conscious of keeping something in reserve for the run, which is by far my weakest of the three events. The miles put on the legs over the last few months definitely helped and I think I finished the cycle in about 1.25. I was happy with that but back again to the notion of learning from each race, I think could probably go harder on the bike next time out, on the basis that it looks as though the run is destined to be a hideous experience for me in any event, so there isn’t really a whole lot of point in holding back on the bike in an effort to make the run easier.
Into Tranistion I racked the bike, took off the helmet and swallowed another few mouthfuls of water before heading off. I was no more than a km into the run when I knew I was in big trouble. My runners were cutting into me, my feet were burning and the hour plus that followed was pretty far from fun. My “run” was slightly above walking pace and I had to concentrate on just putting one foot in front of the other to resist the constant urge to stop. I tried to distract myself with thoughts of a weekend in London but added to the lack of socks debacle, the plastic chip in the timing belt started to cut into the back of my foot and later in the race, one of the many, many, many, many runners who passed me out commented on the fact that it was bleeding and looked painful. I stopped at that stage to try and adjust the chip and realised it was causing quite a gash and my right runner was nicely blood soaked. My poor tired legs thought the stopping was for real and were most reluctant to get going again once the timing chip had been adjusted. Thankfully, that was at exactly the time Marcus was passing me out and but for his shouts of “come on Gráinne, keep going” I don’t know if I would ever have re-started. Unfortunately, after only a short distance, the timing chip started cutting again. I genuinely thought if I stopped at that stage there wasn’t a chance I’d get going again and so instead I just flicked it off and kept waddling. It’s now in the grass somewhere along the Canal Bank but to be honest, having an official finish time for the race was the least of my concerns at that stage. In the course of the run I had met Marc (who was finishing as I was starting and looking very comfortable) Andrew, Padraig and of course Marcus and can’t overstate how welcome it was to see friendly faces, when all I wanted to do was stop and sit down, so thanks for the dig-out guys. Thanks also to the two Micks for their help at the Wednesday night running sessions. I can’t say I feel like I’ve made a whole lot of progress on the run but that’s certainly not through any fault of theirs, given how helpful they’ve been in voluntarily giving up their time to help those of us in need of it. I am not sure of where to go from here in terms of improving my run (although wearing socks would certainly be a good start!) but something will have to be done – Saturday’s run took me well over an hour and was not a venture I’d care to repeat, so presumably the bottom line is I will just have to work a lot harder between now and July 18th.
That said it was a great day for the Club. While I was looking forward to my weekend away, I was sorry not to be there to cheer on the huge number of club members competing in the Sprint Event in the afternoon and I hope everyone – particularly the first timers, enjoyed themselves. Once I had showered, changed and headed for the Airport, a sense of self satisfaction started to settle in. Anybody looking at me in the Airport Bar would have been forgiven for thinking I was on day release from some nearby Asylum, as I limped up to order a cold beer and then sat drinking it on my own, grinning broadly. I reckon I finished in about 3.05/3.10 and that time has certainly given me something to aim for in terms of future events. I relished my pre-flight drink in that knowledge but can’t say the same sense of wellbeing was as evident when I woke up in a London Hotel the next morning after a 7.00am finish in the Resident’s Bar. It seems Mojitos are not in fact an effective form of post exercise re-hydration!