Thursday, 21 November 2013


I don't know why I entered this year. I'm sure it had something to do with pre-season excitement and a certain Pommie fella. But who really knows...

Team Bondi Fit. As loud as ever

I had decided that I wasn't going to race already. It was Saturday morning and it was looking like being a miserable day Sunday. Why would I drag my arse out of bed at 4am to drive for almost an hour for an hour race in the rain on a 'testing' course and then drive over an hour home in traffic... And plus, I didn't have my watch as it was getting replaced under warranty.... Nothing made sense.

But for some reason Saturday afternoon I decided that I was going to race? Perhaps it was the alternative of training for a few hours in the rain instead? Who knows? I still don't know why.

Sunday morning.

Up. Breakfast. In the car. I get a good run down to Kurnell (as you bloody should at that time of the morning!) and get through rego and transition quickly (setting up next to Tommy again for a laugh). As it turns out it hadn't really been raining down there and the roads were almost dry... promising... Although then I noticed the wind. Yay. It was howling. The bike leg was going to be great fun... haha

Regardless, I wandered over to the team tent to see the rest of the poor soles that had ventured down to try their hand (some in their first race!), mind you I was still skeptical that I would even start... Chatting to the team it was great to see so much energy from the rookies and those in their first hitout in this sport that I love and the energy somewhat transferred to me. So much more motivated I wandered down to the swim start for a warm up.

We struck it a little lucky in the swim with the wind giving us some assistance, although as usual my wave swam the most ridiculous curve from can to can... I again decided that I would swim my own line and left the feet of the front pack to do my own thing. Again, hitting the can I ended up back on the same feet as I had left. Joy. Feels good to bust a gut swimming solo only to end up back where you started... oh well at least I didn't lose any ground, that's a positive!

Out of the water on the toes of the front pack

Heading into T1 I saw Tommy grabbing his gear and heading out. I had a reasonable swim crossing the mat in 12:15 which includes the little jog up the beach and into T1 (not that I knew that at the time....).
T1 was an abortion. Pretty sure I dropped everything I tried to pick up 4 times. Considering all I had to pick up was my helmet I would consider that a pretty epic fail. Muppet.
Out of T1 and straight up that magnificent hill with the most beautiful road surface. I hate that hill. I hate that road surface more.

The bike leg was as wind as I had imagined. Heading out along the flats (the part that I actually quite love!) was like playing with fire. Hammering along and then all of a sudden you cop a side wind that blows you sideways 5 feet and sends your heart rate through the roof. I think I counted it happening 10 times before I stopped counting.
Aside from that I quite enjoyed the bike leg. Only getting passed by one bloke was a good feeling and made me confident that (sans watch) I had put in a reasonable split. Turns out I rode quite well (34:27) considering my epic T1 time (that gets added to the official bike time).

Heading back into T2

The run at Kurnell is a shocker. 3 lap 5km. On grass, sand, wooden stairs (yep) and the coast path.
Although the words 'you are a runner' and 'you love running' were going round and round my head. Thanks Sid.
I pushed through and tried to just go as hard as I could. The long ride in my legs from Saturday was a great feeling (who am I kidding?), although I felt myself coming around in the 2nd and 3rd lap. The plan was just to go untill I blow on the run, so without a watch it was all by feel. Turns out I got a little faster each lap and finished strong enough in 20:28. Would have been nice to notch a sub 20min run (even if it was Kurnell) but even so I was pretty happy with that effort.

So with another Kurnell out of the way it was back in the car and time to head home. To be honest I loved it. The thrill of racing is why I do what I do. So no matter what the race and no mater what the pain involved in getting to the start line. When that buzzer goes off it's another race and those same feelings every time!

Love this shit!

On the way home my mind started to wander... What will the next week of training have in store for me? What goals do I need to reassess? What's the next race going to be...?

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