Triathletes in three parts

Part One: The Awakening

I am making myself write this post because if I don’t have a written proof, I will forget that we really really did a Triathlon.

Well, Chuck has already a couple of Marathons and a few Tri’s under his belt. But I am a total débutante. Before committing to this, I looked at these events as something done only by those with close-to-superhuman abilities.

Then, one day Chuck calls to say that Matt and Anna, our friends from Seattle, were coming to London and ‘why don’t we meet doing the Windsor Triathlon?’ I had to ask him twice to repeat himself, I was sure he had mixed up two conversations or was giving me the name of a new café in London where we could ‘meet’ Matt and Anna. Oh, no … not at all, he clearly repeated the Windsor Tri, the four of us, wetsuits, etc etc. I began to get a cold sweat. “Are you in? It will be fun” He asks. “Uhu, I guess”. I say. And then our lives changed …


Part Two: The Real deal

This was January and we signed up for the June 11 Windsor tri. Chuck did a quick assessment of our training status:

1) Biking: we are both ok. No tri bikes but decent road bikes. I had been doing spinning classes which turn out to be a good tri training. Chuck’s cycling weekends in Seattle seemed to have given him the confidence of going long ways (and enjoying it).

2) Running: there we hit a bump. So, like I said, Chuck had already done a couple Marathons. Me .. ? I hated running. After every run I got red ears, a headache, could not keep my rhythm, but overall, I just could not enjoy it!

3) Swimming: swimming. How were we going to pull that one off?

And so the training plan was scheduled. Mon & Wed we would build muscle and strengthen our body (against my will, why athletes cannot be slim and lean..?)

We found a running route and for the first two months - in mid winter - we went for morning runs. Key to this was Chuck’s influence and gifts: IPod shuffle, trainers Asics GT 2100 (sadly only in white), gloves, winter hat and long pants. Who would have guessed! After a few weeks puffing and panting, the headaches were gone and the ears were no longer red and I was starting to enjoy the runs.

Then followed the swimming at D’Coque (Luxembourg’s sports arena) and which makes English speakers giggle every time. The training at this place was perfect. Not only because it is a massive pool but because there is so many people that is almost like being in a Tri. I learned how to swim over people, avoid the kicking and the breast stroke and swim looking up, just in case someone was coming right towards my head.


Part Three: The importance of languages

June was close, and I was getting the nervous laugh. It is difficult to believe that you are ready when you have so much information about people’s timings. My goal: to finish (and secretly, not to be the last one in the race).

Then we got a call. Matt and Anna had to cancel their trip at last minute and we were lost. What do we do? Unfortunately, or luckily, depends on how you see it, Matt and Anna were key in the logistics since neither Chuck nor I would drive in England mad roads.

We came home a little disappointed (and a little relieved) but still willing to make it, so we signed up for the Munich Triathlon at the end of July.

Ahhhggg. Well, guys, all the training could not have prepared me for a Tri in GERMAN. All the signs, everything was written in this language that does not connect with me.

We started of with the swim. Wearing our full body wetsuits in a temperature close to 30° C (+90° F), we started the race in a - thankfully - cold man-made lake. Chuck started in a group 10 minutes after mine. And when I finished the swim, I was a little glad that he had not passed me already!

Get on your bikes! After the swim and a running stretch to get to the transition area, whilst trying to get our wetsuits off - I finally find my bike, seat and begin pulling everything off me. 5 minutes later the wetsuit is off. Shoes, helmet, water, sun glasses, race number, puff! Run again and start the hopefully easiest part.

That’s when it happened. I felt I was flying, going at a good speed, although still being passed by all these pro’s in awfully expensive bikes. I check my speedometer, almost 20 km; I am finishing the 1st round, then a series of photo flashes – smile – what’s going on? I can see the finish line right in front of me. “Hold on, I have only done 20 kms, I need to do the other 20” – I shout in English, whilst all the Germans look at me like I am speaking … English. Panic! A guy approaches me and tells me to get off the bike and start the run. but … I need to do the other 20! He’s like: well, your time is already counted, so it’s not valid. Just start the run. “Hell no” (how do you say this in German!?). Finally I spot the transition area that I crossed earlier, get off the bike, run in my super uncomfortable biking shoes and get on the bike again to do my second round.

(“some” minutes later) …. It was probably 10 but it felt like a whole hour. Ok so everyone had passed me. My nightmare would come true. I was going to finish LAST!

I finish the 2nd RUNDEN. This time I see the sign in German, very clear indeed - in German. Got off the bike, and began the run. Or so I thought. My legs would not move. Everyone I had passed on the bike (again) was passing me now. Oh! this has to be a joke… a hill?? A hill??? Now?? Yes, up, 5kms later, a lot of water, more water for my feet which felt like they were sizzling in the gravel – and my legs were feeling better.

Then I spot Chuck, he’s already going for the last 3kms. He’s looking good, hot but happy, and looks very surprised to see me. - Later he told me that he really thought I had dropped out – me??

The last 5kms were the best and the worst. I kept trying to make conversation, in English … until someone finally agreed and chatted with me for the rest of the race. Then I saw Chuck who had finished and was waiting for me on the side just before the end. I finished!!!! (a medal and a few tears in my eyes)