HOW WAS I T FOR YOU?
Winter sunshine and the chance to race around one of America’s premier race tracks? Challenge Daytona didn’t materialise quite as Jack Sexty had imagined, but the debut event in Florida was certainly a unique multisport experience
I’ve found my rhythm and feel like I could keep running forever, when a bike suddenly whizzes past me at the opening of a tunnel that I definitely shouldn’t be anywhere near. “You’re off the course, sir! You’re off the course, SIR!” As the rain lashes down, a day that was going remarkably well by my standards is beginning to slip into familiar territory...
With my 2018 tri season ending in anti-climax at the age-group World Championships in Australia’s Gold Coast, failing to improve on a 12thplace finish in 2017, I decided that an off-season challenge was needed to get me motivated again. The challenge I craved was literally a Challenge – the inaugural Challenge Daytona middle-distance triathlon in sunny Florida.
Taking place within Daytona’s International Speedway – home of the famous Daytona 500 NASCAR race – the bike course takes in Florida’s unspoilt coastline with the picturesque town of Flagler Beach as the turn point, finishing with a half marathon inside the stadium. When soil was first excavated to build the Speedway back in the 1950s, the massive hole in its place was filled with water to form what’s now known as Lake Lloyd. It’s often used for speedboat racing, but it’s also become the Challenge Daytona swim course as the Challenge Family brand of races (famed for their flagship event in Roth, Germany) return to the USA for the first time since 2015.
When the opportunity presented itself, along with the chance of some actual nice weather in December, I couldn’t resist. So with 2018’s excuses of an ITU world champscomedown and a niggling shoulder injury, I packed for the Sunshine State wanting little more than just to finish comfortably. This was quite refreshing, because the pressure I usually put on myself was well and truly off!
LIGHTNING STRIKES
After a smooth journey from Gatwick to Orlando, I arrive at the car hire centre amid O2’s data outage ‘crisis’; not something that would usually bother me, but I have to navigate the 90min drive to Daytona Beach with no knowledge of US roads and no map. The largely unhelpful gentleman behind the desk simply tells me to “turn right and keep going,” and over three hours later I arrive at my hotel. Little did I know that getting lost would be a running theme throughout this trip.
Located a few miles from downtown Daytona, it’s a peculiar part of the world that seems to have been purpose-built around the Speedway. Few people walk the streets, everything’s so spread out that driving everywhere is the only option and my hotel breakfast of waffles, eggs and unlimited refills of steaming-hot Joe is served up on plastic trays and cups. San Francisco or New York it is not. But what Daytona lacks in cosmopolitan pizzazz it makes up for in friendly locals, none more so than the owner of the nearest bike shop, who I relieve of numerous bike bolts and bits I’d forgotten to pack.
Race morning arrives and I’m swigging Gatorade at 4:45am ready for a 5hr slog. I pick up my pal Claire en route and we ride to the Speedway in the dark. Transition is set up with no stress and my mind turns to getting through a 1.9km swim with my gammy shoulder, when the Tannoy volume suddenly seems to increase tenfold.
“This is an important announcement about course modifications!” bellows the MC. Word gets around that 50mph winds and lightning are set to wreak havoc exactly when most of us will be out riding on a completely exposed part of the Floridian coastline, and the decision has been made to cut the course down to an 800m swim, a 32km bike instead of 90km, but still with the originally planned halfmarathon run.
LOCAL BRAIN FREEZE
I feel gutted for those who wanted to race the middle-distance triathlon, but for a sprint specialist who usually calls it a day after an hour of racing, this isn’t something I can bring myself to feel too distraught about. I head back to transition to
strip my bike of extra bottles and no-longer-needed energy products, and line up for the swim. I chuckle as numerous Florida natives complain of brain freeze as they take to the 16°C water. For anyone who’s daft enough to have done a UK open-water triathlon on a May weekend, you’ll know that’s like a hot tub in comparison!
The gun goes and I find myself in a big old scrap at the head of the course. I eventually find space and pick my way through more swimmers, exiting in sixth after 11:54mins. Still able to see the first triathlete out of the water, my competitive streak kicks in as I mount my bike, and for now, at least, it’s no longer just about finishing. Age-group qualification for the 2019 Challenge Championships in Slovakia is now on!
SPECTATOR ILLUSION
I pass someone a couple of minutes into the ride on the incredibly fast and smooth Daytona Speedway tarmac, yet to be saturated by driving rain, before being brought down to earth as three superbikes steamroll past.
As the 130,000 seat stadium is rarely full, the seats are multicoloured to give the illusion that there are people in them, meaning it doesn’t feel quite so lonely. The steepness of the banking on the side is insane and, while the bike course stays on the flat, I’m tempted to do a quick detour and pretend I’m a NASCAR driver.
I revert to my original game plan and bike conservatively, despite the much shorter distance, and lose a few more places. I complete the modified course in and around the Speedway in just over 46mins.
WRONG TURN
When I begin the run it’s raining steadily to provide some welcome cooling, and I’m elated at being able to start a tri half marathon where my legs don’t already feel like mush. My opening kilometre splits are wildly ambitious at 3:40 and 3:46 respectively, so I rein it in over the next 10mins.
At some point during my pacing concerns, I lose sight of those in front of me and – knowing my dreadful sense of direction at the best of times – sense something might not be quite right. Relief sets in as I spot a fellow competitor in front of me, but just as I’m feeling on top of the world while overtaking, he asks: “Are you sure we’re going the right way?”
“Absolutely not!” I shout back. We run together momentarily, discussing how we managed to have gone wrong. With my adrenaline rushing and confusion setting in, I somehow lose him and end up
“The steepness of the banking on the side of the speedway is insane and I’m tempted to do a detour and pretend I’m a NASCAR driver”
going completely off grid, down a tunnel that’s supposed to be part of the bike course. A marshal tells me so, but has no idea where I’ve come from or how I’ve got there.
THE WHEELS COME OFF
Wondering if my day is done, I spot a bunch of runners and just join on, not knowing if I’ve cut the course or gone too far. It turns out to be the latter, and as I hit lap two of three I spot a couple of volunteers hastily rearranging cones as the wind picks up and the rain starts really bucketing it down.
By the third loop, my mental arithmetic indicates the original course is going to end up a good 2km short for everyone else – everyone except me and the other lost lamb I encountered earlier. Knowing I’ve run further than a distance I wasn’t thrilled about doing in the first place is mentally tortuous, but I manage to keep my head until 5km to go… when the wheels start to come off.
Heaving my dead legs over the line in 2:31hrs and just inside the top 50 finishers, I grab whatever sustenance I can find and begin the slow hobble towards transition, which is now flooding in places, to collect my belongings.
SHRIMPS AND SUNSHINE
It brightens up once the age-group event is done and dusted, so the elite races (won by Pieter Heemeryck and Sarah Haskins) end in sunshine. But it’s unfortunate they’re not afforded the big crowds they deserve, as most of us agegroupers have been forced to seek shelter. Regrettably I’m one of them, a shivering mess by the middle of the afternoon, and retreat to my hotel for an excessively-large pile of deep-fried fast food.
After missing out on the luscious Florida coastline on the original bike course, I regret not seeing it for myself, so I drive there the next day and stop off for some sumptuous Florida shrimp in Flagler Beach. While it’s a shame we didn’t get to experience the coastline on the bike leg, if anything it’s made me want to come back even more in December 2019, thoughts echoed by many other age-group triathletes I speak to post race.
Overall I think the debut Challenge Daytona was a success given the circumstances, and truly has the potential to be one of the most popular triathlons in the world. Daytona Speedway provides a unique racing opportunity and credit to Challenge Family for securing it for their first race back in North America since 2015.
Like any family this one ain’t perfect, and you may think it’s odd that I’m fully recommending a race that almost didn’t happen and likely sent me the wrong way during a thunderstorm. But, for me, it’s part and parcel of experiencing an inaugural event, and the weather is beyond anyone’s control.
As it turns out, I just managed to scrape sixth in my age-group, which is good enough to qualify for the Challenge Championships in June... so that’s my next overseas tri adventure all planned!