Tri-ing it out

To keep my competitive juices flowing through the off-season, I decided to cross the divide and have a go at the Brighton and Hove Triathlon. As much as knowledge, experience and preparation can help you in the lead-up to a race, spanners tend to get chucked into the works — such as poor conditions on the day. The top bugbear of cyclists is the wind, and in open-water swimming, Mother Nature can have an even more brutal impact.

With the sea crashing onto the shore, I and 200 other sprint distance competitors shuffled into the sea, making very slow progress against the choppy waters. Having switched into survival mode to get through the swim, I clambered back up the pebble beach to transition, which looked like a scene from Saving Private Ryan — bodies slumped everywhere.

Out on the bike, I was soon passing riders who had burnt matches in the English Channel and began to feel I had paced my effort to perfection. In and out of the second transition in super quick time, the dreaded pull of my right calf greeted me 100 metres into my run. Feeling pretty helpless, I plodded up and down Hove promenade, aiming only to finish without further injuring my evertightening calf.

Nothing really prepares you for the indignity of hobbling along knowing you physically can’t go any faster. As I stumbled under the finish banner in 92nd place, the relief of having finished completely overrode any thought of how much I’d enjoyed the varied training. Perhaps the cycling gods were, after all, looking down on me and cursing my betrayal of the two-wheeled faith. I’ll be sure to give them more warning next time. www.brightonandhovetriathlon.com