EASTERN PROMISES
With a population of over a billion people, China has long been targeted by race organisers. But what’s it like to race in the nascent triathlon nation?
Step number 250, 251, 252… until now the Beijing International Triathlon’s run course has been a serene stretch along the manmade wetlands of the city’s Garden Expo Park. But a devious addition has arisen at the 4km stage, with 280 concrete steps to ascend to reach the top.
This cruel lactic ladder has reduced all but those at the pointy end of racing to a slow shuffle. A high-tech bullet train zips under a tunnel below the mount. The Yongding pagoda stands dominant over us and the vast urban sprawl of Beijing looms in the distance. I’m 8,000km from home and it feels every metre of it.
CHASING THE ASIAN MARKET
Establishing a presence in China has long been an ambition of the world’s biggest race organisers. While the full Ironman China bit the dust in 2011, the World Triathlon Corporation – under the Chinese ownership of the Wanda Group conglomerate – have established multiple 70.3 races here, and Challenge have an event in the specially-administered territory of Hong Kong. But it’s the IMG-owned Beijing International Triathlon that’s the major firm fixture, building from 350 athletes on debut in 2012 to a long sold-out field of over 2,000 in 2018. While that may seem small in a nation of 1.3-billion people, the five million Chinese marathon runners of 2017 highlights the nation’s endurance sports boom and its largely untapped triathlon potential.
The Beijing International is also a late-season draw for the world’s best pro racers, attracting multiple world champs Javier Gomez and Chris McCormack in previous years. The 2018 edition sees both Brownlee brothers, Commonwealth Games champ Henri Schoeman and ITU Grand Final winner Ashleigh Gentle on the start line, all vying for the meaty $100,000 pro prize purse.
“It takes me back to the 2008 Olympic Games being here in Beijing as that was a really special time for me,” Alistair Brownlee tells us the day before the race. “In 2008, triathlon wasn’t on the radar in China at all so to have 2,000 people racing here is testament to the growth of the sport.”
The build-up to the race provides a chance to explore the sights of the Chinese capital, a city with a 22-million strong population that almost matches the whole of Australia. It’s a relentlesslyfascinating place, where centuriesold temples sit uneasily next to Communist-era relics and mile upon mile of high rise residential blocks. While Tiananmen Square induces paranoia with its passport checks and security, a major highlight are the hutongs – ancient alleyways where you can safely experience Beijing as it was before the ruling Communist Party of China embraced the socialist market economy.
Yet, after time spent consuming the Great Wall, Temple of Heaven and more UNESCO World Heritage Sites (and steamed buns) than you can poke a chopstick at, there’s the worry that the race itself would be an anti-climax. After a decade of mediocre finishes, my own form is decidedly wayward, with my last races reading DNF, DSQ, PB, unexpected Iron finish and another DNS, with plenty of sprained ankles in between. So would the race be my own kingdom of tri heaven or a multisport temple of doom?
PRO ENCOUNTERS
Cut to 7am on race morning, where if I had to picture a Beijing transition area it would look like this. Huge concrete rods supporting the city’s sleek metro system rise from the floor around the bikes as high-tech trains swoosh overhead. I’m the only westerner on my row of bikes and everyone around me gives welcome nods of support and (swiftly aborted) attempts to communicate with me in a mix of Mandarin and English.
We all file down to the race start at the artificial Garden Expo Lake wearing white hotel slippers with our wetsuits, with cheers ringing out as the pro field hits the water at a frenetic pace. Yet the biggest interest becomes an athlete who’s
placed themselves in the sub-28min wave despite having seemingly avoided swmming since 1984, and we nervously watch as they zig zag in front of the oncoming waves.
We walk across the starting pontoon just as the pro leaders are exiting mere feet away, with Commonwealth Games champ Henri Schoeman being chased down by Jonny Brownlee. It’s a fantastic feeling to share the course with the best in the world, and I’ve witnessed their strict dedication to racing in the days before the event (while I’ve been filling napkins with remnants from the hotel buffet).
EXTREME HAPPINESS
The lake’s water is clear, warm but whipped by winds. A single 1.5km loop stands before us. The staggered waves of the 1,000 Olympicdistance age-groupers (the sprint races took place a day before) soon merge into each other. It’s busy and difficult to find a clear stretch of water. Sighting is made tricky by the rising sun on the return stretch, but I’m pulling away from my wave and finish in 36mins, decidedly average but in the top half of my age-group.
The 40km one-lap bike course begins on the vast highways of Beijing (which make the M25 look like a country lane) and, with the help of governmental support and the well-oiled IMG-racing machine, have somehow managed to be closed for the race. Having spent many hours stuck in traffic/fearing imminent death on these in the days before the race, it’s a blast to be riding on the smooth tarmac minus petrol engines and erratic drivers.
My pre-race fears that this would be a pure urban triathlon are soon erased as the road turns westwards and upwards towards Qianling Mountain. The blue, currently smog-free skies give a clear vantage point to the forested hills of Hebei in the distance before the road winds up to ‘Extreme Happiness Peak’, and I’m in utmost bliss to reach the turnaround point after 6km of climbing.
Try as I may, I can’t find a pothole anywhere and the roads are immaculate as the swift ascent takes us back to Beijing. The crowd support is fantastic throughout and as I settle into a rhythm I’m joined by Richard Hansard, an Irishman living in Beijing riding a flat-bar bike made from bamboo. It’s held together by rope and, touch wood, hasn’t fallen apart yet, and soon Richard is a spec on the horizon on his unconventional yet lightweight racing machine.
RACING REMINDER
I arrive at T2 after a too-leisurely 1:35:14 to find the rising winds have decimated my transition set-up,
“Any pre-race fears that this would be a purely urban triathlon are erased as the roads turn westwards to Qianling Mountain”
with my fancy changing mat probably near Mongolia by the time I roll in. The heat is also rising into the high 20s as I begin the lakeside stretch of the run. Having made the pre-race mistake of trying to explore the entirety of inner Beijing by foot in the late summer heat (and, after an ill-advised peanut and braised sea cucumber stir fry, most of its public toilets), I’m already feeling physically spent.
It soon becomes a case of racing survival as I approach the 280 steps, a theme of IMG’s Escape Series after Escape from Alcatraz’s iconic ‘Sand Ladder’ in San Francisco (which Beijing acts as a qualifier for). I make it to the top and admire the pagoda before meandering back down to flatter territory.
I then realise I’ve taken top Chinese wordsmith Confucius’ words of ‘It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop’ far too literally. I remember that I’m in an actual race and increase the tempo, vowing not to let anyone else pass me before the finish. It’s exhilarating and reminds me – after a few seasons largely focussing on the longer stuff – of the frenetic appeal of short-course events, of racing other athletes rather than just largely myself.
I sprint the final kilometres for a 3:25:36 finish that’s bang in the middle of my age-group (and almost twice Jonny Brownlee’s winning 1:51:37 finish time). Awaiting me is another vast buffet of fried meat, rice and noodles, a superior race medal and the perfect end to my most memorable race season yet.
FOREVER ENTHRALLING
I later celebrate with a few bottles of Tsingtao and another superlative Peking duck pancake on the banks of Houhai Lake, and reflect on the experience of racing in China. Much like Beijing itself, the race was hot, sticky, occasionally tough and sometimes tiring, but forever entertaining and enthralling.
With the professional athletes mixing with the age-groupers, smooth closed roads, bike-course shuttle tours, pre- and post-race buffets, and a decent expo area, the Beijing International Triathlon feels like a genuinely large-scale event; an Olympic-distance race on an Ironman scale.
Flying 8,000km for a three-hour race may seem excessive, but I’ve cherished how the event isn’t all-consuming like long-distance racing can be both before and after the race. Admittedly, with a £200 visa to secure (sort yours early), hotels, travel and knock-off Paw Patrol toys to buy, it hasn’t been a financially frugal visit. But from experiencing centuries of history to witnessing a nascent tri community and a fast-changing nation at a pivotal juncture in its history, it’s been a multisport trip unlike any I’ve experienced before.
So, if you’re thinking of an endof-season multisport destination event for 2019, few can compare to the sensory onslaught that is Beijing. Just avoid the peanut and sea cucumber stir fries on Qianmen Street if you go…