London Triathlon

As ‘swimmers into cleanness leaping’, 400 nervous men in rubber gathered on the banks of London’s St Katherine's Dock. The sun twinkled off the water as the little yachts ran in front of a delicate breeze. The sun was hot on the back of our black wetsuits as we made our way down the pontoon and jumped into the water. “No diving gentlemen please” said the marshal as we passed. The flotilla of orange swimming caps moved slowly out into the rectangle of the start area becoming more densely packed as more competitors took the plunge. Ducking my face under the water I found that I could see no more than a foot through the murky green water

‘Get to the back or the sides of the group’ is the normal advice for the weaker swimmers in men’s triathlon. The middle and the front is no place for the faint-hearted. Sadly, in this packed start rectangle, there was no refuge. Even while treading water the competitors were touching shoulders. When the stragglers were finally rounded up and squeezed into the start area the starting claxon was sounded and the pool of smiling faces became a thrashing mass of black slippery bodies. Elbows, heads, feet and fists clashed as swimmers climbed over each other to get ahead. Faces loomed out of the deep green mists to either side then disappeared back into the sucking green murk.

After what Matt and I would know as a ‘Reading moment’ at 500m (I didn’t think I would make it) the group began to spread out and I was able to get into some kind of rhythm. I actually began to focus on speed for the last third of the swim but the fast swimmers had gone and I was damned glad to see the landing pontoon and the woman who gave me a hand out of the water. Our wetsuits were hurriedly packed into large blue bags as we ran into the ‘transition area’ where 1000s of bikes were racked. Fruit, a puncture repair kit, spare tubes etc. were crammed into the pockets of my race suit before I put on my cycling helmet and shoes and clip-clopped out of the Excel centre to begin the cycle leg.

I jumped onto the bike and sped off down the ramp, out of the shade and into the blazing August sun. The temperatures were now in the 90’s F. The linear course headed off across the flat floodplain of the Thames, the road rising and falling steeply to accommodate road bridges, roundabouts and the Docklands Light Railway. Away from the mêlée of the swim I felt free and in control. The breeze in my face was refreshing and ahead the buildings of the City punched upwards into the huge cobalt sky. “This is called Metropolis” shouted the Lemmy in my head. Twenty/thirty/thirty-five mph, then up in the saddle and dancing up the hills. Fast carbon bikes were flashing past on the straw-baled roundabouts and I was hauling in slower bikes on the descents and climbs. This was real racing - like being part of a video game. However, racing up the foot of a short rise after a fast downhill section it was almost GAME OVER. Just as I got out of the saddle to begin climbing I hit a cat’s-eye which slid the back wheel sideways by 18” (the cat wasn’t too happy either). My rear completely slipped off the saddle and I was hanging in fresh air. Thankfully I managed to haul myself back onto the saddle before I stopped, hit anyone or fell off.
As I came to the huge orange squeezer shaped building for the third time and headed for home I could see increasing numbers of people walking back to the Excel centre pushing their bikes. Some were victims of mechanical failure, at least one had crashed; others had fallen prey to the searing heat. I didn’t want to do the same and had been drinking fairly consistently since the start of the cycle leg – now I needed solid fuel. Sadly, the bananas I had placed in my pocket (more to impress the girls than anything else) had decided to seek their independent destiny somewhere on the previous 25 miles of road and I was left without further sustenance for the rest of the race. Turning left off the final 25mph straight we were faced with the now forgotten concrete ramp into the transition area. Slamming down 12 or 14 gears in one hit bikes flapped up the ramp and into the cool of the transition area. I was sure that I had improved my position from the swim but I was also sure that I didn’t have much oomph left in my legs.
I click-clacked back to the bike stand, put my training shoes on and headed off through the RUN OUT door. The pavement was baking and I took every possible opportunity to run in the shadows of the walls. Out by the docks there was no shade and the only upsides to the run were a youth throwing traffic cones full of water over you as you passed and a collection of lovely Purdeys girls by the side of the road (I know it’s sexist). I was totally cream-cracked but I reassured myself that there were plenty of people worse off than me. Lots of people were reduced to walking and, on my second lap, one chap was lying face down in the gutter on the concrete ramp of the Excel Centre – all very gruesome. On the flip-side several men, a good twenty years my senior, skipped past like spring chickens at the very height of spring.
On lap two Becky and Gareth told me that I was about two and a half hours into the race. Hoping to get in under three hours I reached for the accelerator but I was stuck in ‘slow’ mode. The final lap wasn’t actually painful but it was like running in treacle. I had to employ my 2nd favourite mental diversion tactic to stop my ‘hell-why-don’t-we-just-walk’ instinct getting the upper hand. I started to make mental lists of the things I most wanted. 1) Water, 2) Chocolate, 3) Beer, 4) A Shower 5) More Beer. Entering the finish straight and crossing the line was immensely satisfying despite a slightly disappointing time (2:54:17), but it came a distinct second to London Marathon for pleasure and trailed way behind Boston Rowing Marathon for pain. Would I do it again? You know I would – I’m stupid like that.
I would just like to record my extreme gratitude to Chris, Sarah, Becky and Gareth for coming down to support me and (perhaps most importantly) for getting me home, showered and in the pub by 8:30pm.