Last weekend I had the incredible privilege of competing as an U23 elite at the South African Olympic distance triathlon championships held in Durban. The race would comprise of a 1.1km sea swim (shortened from 1.5km because of rough conditions), a 40km cycle finished off with a 10km run. This was my first race at such a high level and I was terrified. Firstly, the race was draft legal (i.e. you are allowed to cycle in a group, saving up to 40% of your energy) which meant I would need to channel my inner fish in order to have a good swim and get into a decent group on the bike. Secondly, there were only 25 people entered in the entire race – 8 of whom were from abroad, one has an Olympic Games and two Commonwealth Games medals, and the rest were the cream of the crop in South Africa Olympic distance racing. I felt very much like an outsider, and as a result the only goal I set myself was this: “try not to come last.”
Race day rolled around and the nervousness gave way to excitement. I had the chance of lining up against some of the best athletes in the country, in my home city, with lots of friends and family watching. I was ready to give it my best and see how I compared – that was essentially all I was hoping to get out of the race.
After a quick athlete introduction we headed down to the beach for the start. The gun fired and we all charged into the water, only to be battered back by the incoming waves. The rest of the swim would prove to be equally difficult – constantly getting lifted up and dropped back down by the waves, not being able to see any of the buoys and as is always the case, many mouthfuls of swallowed sea water regurgitated through fits of coughing. After what felt like an eternity I dragged myself ashore (not last!) and came within an inch of complete cramp in both calves and quads. I nevertheless had a decent transition and managed to start of the bike leg with two other athletes (Mike Ferriera and Asher Biggs). We worked well together (credit to Mike for doing some serious pulls on the front and organizing the group) and started to slowly reel in the small groups in front of us. Fifteen kilometers into the ride we had formed the chase pack, a big group of 12 with only a group of six ahead. I was starting to feel quietly confident – I was comfortable in the pack, sure I wouldn’t get dropped on the flat course and knowing my strongest discipline, the run, was still to come. The race was going so much better than I had ever thought possible.
Then disaster struck. I hit a small stone, which being in the pack I didn’t even see, and immediately knew something was wrong. Fifty meters later my suspicious were confirmed – I had a flat back tyre. I rolled to a stop right in front of my stunned family. My race was done. In such a short race, by the time you have changed your inner tube, everyone is already long gone, never to be seen again. I was gutted. This was the last year for me to race as an U23 and I was having the race of my life. I had travelled to Durban from Cape Town, and had spent months suffering in training, mostly alone, getting ready for this one specific race. I had sacrificed time with friends, neglected varsity work and missed time at home. And one small stone made that all seem worthless. I could have been forgiven for throwing my bike into the bushes and storming off.
But people were watching and strangely enough that isn’t what I wanted. I had come to the race to see how I compared, and I had managed to do just that. And while getting a decent result would be immensely beneficial, this certainly isn’t the last race I’ll do, nor is this the limit of my dreams. So I drowned my sorrows with 3 chocolate milks and then spent the rest of the afternoon cheering those still left in the race.
Triathlon races are an unpredictable beast. Any number of things can go wrong even if you have done all the training, and are in your best possible shape. Your legs might not feel great on the day, you could get sick, crash or suffer from cramps, all of which prevent you from having the race you were supposed to have. It’s this unpredictable nature which keeps us intrigued and leaves us hungry for more, always in search of the perfect race.
The next day I was given a stark reminder, which very quickly put the race into context. I was scrolling through Instagram, procrastinating getting stuck back into my varsity work, when I came across a post about a young cyclist who had tragically passed away over the weekend. I was bitterly disappointed about how the race played out, but in the end, it was only a race and really not that important in the scheme of things. I have so much more to be grateful for and it is considerably more productive to be thankful for those things than to complain about what could have been.
Train hard, race hard, but always remember the unpredictable nature of the game – it is what we signed up for. And when things go wrong, as they will, pick yourself up, dust yourself off and put that single moment into perspective. Then find another goal to chase.
Happy training,
Mike
Mike Ross 