Coles Bay Half 2017
I really should come to Coles Bay more often, even when there isn’t a triathlon being run. It is such an amazing place. But since there was a triathlon this weekend, I had to come up. I had a fantastic time when I came up for this event last year and once again Coles Bay turned it on for an amazing weekend in 2017.
I got up on the Friday and registered that evening before heading back to our accommodation. After a long drive my muscles were feeling as rigid and uncooperative as the Glenorchy City Council, so I went out for a quick ride and run around the neighbourhood to loosen up. I wasn’t out long and soon re-joined the rest of the house for an amazing dinner cooked by my wife and plenty of discussion of tomorrow’s race. As well as checking all my gear was ready to go, I also took the chance to go through tyre change drills, which are always a bit slow for me as I am very cautious of breaking something (A pity Scott Morrison doesn’t have the same concerns with our economy). Steve the Bike Whisperer was kind enough to watch me and give me a few useful reminders and tips about the easiest and quickest way to get things done. Happy to have it all fresh in my memory again, but not really expecting to have to use it tomorrow, I went to bed early and slept surprisingly well.
I got up early, had a big breakfast and we were on our way quicker than power outages are blamed on renewable energy. I got to the transition area early and gave my bike a final little test ride before racking it and laying out my gear. I have to admit I was far from efficient in this regard, flitting around the area and talking to people, but there were so many people I wanted to catch up with. The TriNuts were entering two teams, the Solemates were represented by a very strong team made up of Courto, Alex and Lewinski, while the Get Fit crew was there in large numbers as well. It was pretty exciting and particularly special to be racing (although I’m not sure racing is quite the right noun when you go at my speed) my first event with one of my oldest friends, The Cam Stud.
I got up on the Friday and registered that evening before heading back to our accommodation. After a long drive my muscles were feeling as rigid and uncooperative as the Glenorchy City Council, so I went out for a quick ride and run around the neighbourhood to loosen up. I wasn’t out long and soon re-joined the rest of the house for an amazing dinner cooked by my wife and plenty of discussion of tomorrow’s race. As well as checking all my gear was ready to go, I also took the chance to go through tyre change drills, which are always a bit slow for me as I am very cautious of breaking something (A pity Scott Morrison doesn’t have the same concerns with our economy). Steve the Bike Whisperer was kind enough to watch me and give me a few useful reminders and tips about the easiest and quickest way to get things done. Happy to have it all fresh in my memory again, but not really expecting to have to use it tomorrow, I went to bed early and slept surprisingly well.
I got up early, had a big breakfast and we were on our way quicker than power outages are blamed on renewable energy. I got to the transition area early and gave my bike a final little test ride before racking it and laying out my gear. I have to admit I was far from efficient in this regard, flitting around the area and talking to people, but there were so many people I wanted to catch up with. The TriNuts were entering two teams, the Solemates were represented by a very strong team made up of Courto, Alex and Lewinski, while the Get Fit crew was there in large numbers as well. It was pretty exciting and particularly special to be racing (although I’m not sure racing is quite the right noun when you go at my speed) my first event with one of my oldest friends, The Cam Stud.
I think I pretty much managed to get around and wish good luck to everyone I knew before we gathered for the pre-race briefing, which included the confusing revelation that the race would be both the same as last year and different. It was quite a long walk to the far end of Mures Beach so we set off straight after the briefing, getting to the other end in time for a quick swim to loosen out the shoulders and check the goggles were on properly. The water of the bay was a beautiful greeny-blue and flatter than Australia’s recent employment growth. It was going to be a great swim.
The start of the race was heralded by a blast on the air horn and a group of over 100 swimmers ran forward and splashed our way through the shallow water until we were deep enough to start swimming. The water around me was churning and splashing with so many swimmers this close to each other so I tried to find myself a patch of space and keep pace with everyone else. The congestion turning sharply around the first buoy was worse than Hobart CBD at peak hour, but once past here I was at least able to head back towards the second buoy with a bit more room to myself, so I could start concentrating on my swimming technique and building up a bit of speed. Well I could have concentrated on technique, but adrenaline had got the better of me (not for the last time in this event) and I swam on for another few hundred metres before I even thought to start working on correct technique.
The start of the race was heralded by a blast on the air horn and a group of over 100 swimmers ran forward and splashed our way through the shallow water until we were deep enough to start swimming. The water around me was churning and splashing with so many swimmers this close to each other so I tried to find myself a patch of space and keep pace with everyone else. The congestion turning sharply around the first buoy was worse than Hobart CBD at peak hour, but once past here I was at least able to head back towards the second buoy with a bit more room to myself, so I could start concentrating on my swimming technique and building up a bit of speed. Well I could have concentrated on technique, but adrenaline had got the better of me (not for the last time in this event) and I swam on for another few hundred metres before I even thought to start working on correct technique.
I turned around the second buoy and began the long section parallel to the beach. It’s a slightly surreal time in the race as even though you are part of a big group of swimmers, you have very little awareness of any of them until they appear next to you. I only got a glimpse of the swimmers ahead of me every few breaths when I look up to site and I had absolutely no idea what was approaching me from behind (which gave me a little more empathy for Malcolm Turnbull). With little change to what was around me for the next stretch,I just had to settle into the swim and relax a little. I channeled my inner Dory and just kept swimming. Of course the problem with being Dory is I once again forgot to focus on my technique. Every few breaths I would look up ahead and usually find I was drifting to the right. Anyone familiar with my social and political ramblings would understand I was extremely surprised to discover any kind of right-leaning bias, but there it was.
It was a great feeling coming out of the water to so many cheers, especially with so many friends there on the beach as I ran past and up into the transition area, right behind The Cam Stud. Apart from forgetting to put my shirt on before I put my helmet on and not putting my socks on properly (not in a Red Hot Chili Peppers way though), I was changed pretty quickly and on my way out to the mount line ready to get on my bike. I was seconds from doing just that when an observant passer-by pointed out I had a flat. Having checked it moments before the race, I initially assumed she was mistaken but a quick check showed she was 100% correct. My look of disappointment at this moment could have been used for an internet meme, but I shuffled off to the side of the road and got ready to change it.
In another aspect of my life I have often heard the phrase, “Slow is smooth, smooth is fast,” but that went out the window with race adrenaline pumping through me, so moving inefficiently and swearing like Kevin Rudd when he is given a bad speech, I took the wheel off and began to take off the tyre, only to snap one of my tyre levers in the process! I felt like crying with only one tyre lever left, but I kept battling away trying to improvise with the broken lever, but had little recognisable progress. I was lucky Jason Allie from Get Fit Tas was nearby, as he gave me a solution I wouldn’t have thought of and once I slowed down to listen to him and think about it I was able to follow his instructions and finally get the tyre off.
It was a great feeling coming out of the water to so many cheers, especially with so many friends there on the beach as I ran past and up into the transition area, right behind The Cam Stud. Apart from forgetting to put my shirt on before I put my helmet on and not putting my socks on properly (not in a Red Hot Chili Peppers way though), I was changed pretty quickly and on my way out to the mount line ready to get on my bike. I was seconds from doing just that when an observant passer-by pointed out I had a flat. Having checked it moments before the race, I initially assumed she was mistaken but a quick check showed she was 100% correct. My look of disappointment at this moment could have been used for an internet meme, but I shuffled off to the side of the road and got ready to change it.
In another aspect of my life I have often heard the phrase, “Slow is smooth, smooth is fast,” but that went out the window with race adrenaline pumping through me, so moving inefficiently and swearing like Kevin Rudd when he is given a bad speech, I took the wheel off and began to take off the tyre, only to snap one of my tyre levers in the process! I felt like crying with only one tyre lever left, but I kept battling away trying to improvise with the broken lever, but had little recognisable progress. I was lucky Jason Allie from Get Fit Tas was nearby, as he gave me a solution I wouldn’t have thought of and once I slowed down to listen to him and think about it I was able to follow his instructions and finally get the tyre off.
The rest of the process was easier, but I had lost so much time by now that I was really stressing about the delay. As a result, I was nearly hyperventilating and my hands were as fumbly as the first time I touched a bra. My wife (who will probably say little has changed in that regard) came over to join Jason trying to get me to calm down and do things in order. Not without a few more missteps and curses, I finally made my way to the mount line and took off. My OCD got the better of me within 500m and I had to stop and feel the tyre again before setting off once more. With basically the whole field kilometres ahead of me now seemed a pretty appropriate time to have a bit of a sulk about how a perfect day had gone pretty quickly south with a few moments of poor luck. I tried telling myself not to think about it but when does telling people not to think about something actually work (apart from climate change and the suffering of refugees in offshore detention obviously)? My bottom lip was out so far it was probably creating extra drag, but thankfully that kind of attitude isn’t easy for me to hold onto and as the scenery rushed past, I began to rationalise and put things into perspective.
I have actually been really fortunate with how most of my races have pretty much gone to plan or better, (the last race I wasn’t very happy with was the Hobart Budget 5k which was nearly a year ago) so I was probably due for a day when a race didn’t go to plan. I also reminded myself I would soon (well in a few hours’ time anyway) be running in a Just Like Jack shirt, representing a group that believes people with disabilities can overcome all kinds of obstacles with the right support. I couldn’t rightly represent that group if I was going to sook up the moment I faced a minor unexpected obstacle. So with the purpose of Just Like Jack firmly in my mind, I attacked the ride with renewed energy and enthusiasm. I am normally very nervous in the aero position because I can’t use my breaks and any movement threatens my balance, but I figured I didn’t have a lot to lose at this point. I tucked myself up and concentrated on staying on the bike as the undulating scenery flashed past.
In little time I had climbed the hill past Saffire and was into the flatter section of the ride near Swanwick. I noticed a number of disturbing signs along the side of the road that seemed to warning of roided-out mutant kangaroos that lifted up cars (were these signs made by Michael Bay), at night time. As it was daytime, I never saw these frightening creatures, but it wasn’t long before I began to see the lead riders coming back the other way. I had already seen a number of riders from the sprint event heading back to transition, including my friends Sammie and Katherine who were both doing a great job, so this gave me another reason to smile and my earlier negativity was now a distant memory.
I have actually been really fortunate with how most of my races have pretty much gone to plan or better, (the last race I wasn’t very happy with was the Hobart Budget 5k which was nearly a year ago) so I was probably due for a day when a race didn’t go to plan. I also reminded myself I would soon (well in a few hours’ time anyway) be running in a Just Like Jack shirt, representing a group that believes people with disabilities can overcome all kinds of obstacles with the right support. I couldn’t rightly represent that group if I was going to sook up the moment I faced a minor unexpected obstacle. So with the purpose of Just Like Jack firmly in my mind, I attacked the ride with renewed energy and enthusiasm. I am normally very nervous in the aero position because I can’t use my breaks and any movement threatens my balance, but I figured I didn’t have a lot to lose at this point. I tucked myself up and concentrated on staying on the bike as the undulating scenery flashed past.
In little time I had climbed the hill past Saffire and was into the flatter section of the ride near Swanwick. I noticed a number of disturbing signs along the side of the road that seemed to warning of roided-out mutant kangaroos that lifted up cars (were these signs made by Michael Bay), at night time. As it was daytime, I never saw these frightening creatures, but it wasn’t long before I began to see the lead riders coming back the other way. I had already seen a number of riders from the sprint event heading back to transition, including my friends Sammie and Katherine who were both doing a great job, so this gave me another reason to smile and my earlier negativity was now a distant memory.
I got some cheerful words of encouragement from The Cam Stud as we passed each other near the Friendly Beaches turnoff. By my calculations this put me about eight kilometres behind him. I had no intention of catching up, but it provided a useful metric for working out how much time I had lost (we had got out of the water together) and also for tracking whether I was keeping pace. The ride back felt a little easier, with an occasional tailwind and a few more competitors for me to chase down. The course itself played tricks on me because the bumpy bitumen road itself did not always match the pitch of the surrounding land. As a result, sometimes you thought you were going uphill and you were in fact going downhill, while at other times it made you feel that down was up (kind of like listening to Pauline Hanson if you don’t think critically about her preposterous claims).
I had seen so few riders going the same way I was in the first lap, but I must have made up some ground, because in the second half of the race I was chasing more arse than footy team on an end of season players’ trip. My reasserted positivity was tested soon into the lap, when a bee got into my shirt as I was riding downhill on the tri bars. I struggled for balance for a few excruciating seconds before I could sit upright and start thrashing myself like Donald Trump in a presidential debate (for all that his supporters cared). I think I got the little critter, but I also did a decent job of winding myself in the process.
Aside from some minor fatigue throughout my legs and some pain in my back, my main source of discomfort came from my toes which were rubbing uncomfortably from where I hadn’t put socks on properly in transition. When I was many years younger I was told, “If it’s not on, it’s not on,” so it was a shame I forgot this important lesson. At the end of the final lap, I rolled in towards the dismount line, jumped off my bike and ran through transition. Bam. My glutes were so tight it felt like one of them was actually bruised. But on the plus side my quads and calves felt good. I had a drink of water, a banana and an energy bar and threw on my Just Like Jack shirt that I always feel stronger running in. I took a few more minutes to throw on some sunscreen and then I was out onto the run leg, getting some much appreciated words of encouragement from my friend Alex as I set off.
I had seen so few riders going the same way I was in the first lap, but I must have made up some ground, because in the second half of the race I was chasing more arse than footy team on an end of season players’ trip. My reasserted positivity was tested soon into the lap, when a bee got into my shirt as I was riding downhill on the tri bars. I struggled for balance for a few excruciating seconds before I could sit upright and start thrashing myself like Donald Trump in a presidential debate (for all that his supporters cared). I think I got the little critter, but I also did a decent job of winding myself in the process.
Aside from some minor fatigue throughout my legs and some pain in my back, my main source of discomfort came from my toes which were rubbing uncomfortably from where I hadn’t put socks on properly in transition. When I was many years younger I was told, “If it’s not on, it’s not on,” so it was a shame I forgot this important lesson. At the end of the final lap, I rolled in towards the dismount line, jumped off my bike and ran through transition. Bam. My glutes were so tight it felt like one of them was actually bruised. But on the plus side my quads and calves felt good. I had a drink of water, a banana and an energy bar and threw on my Just Like Jack shirt that I always feel stronger running in. I took a few more minutes to throw on some sunscreen and then I was out onto the run leg, getting some much appreciated words of encouragement from my friend Alex as I set off.
The first part of the run felt great, heading out along the shaded road that follows the waterfront. After nearly a kilometre, I turned around a bollard and headed back towards transition area. I grabbed a water as I went past the aid station, but barely broke stride as I powered down (bad choice of words) to the beach and hit the sand moving at a pretty fair pace. There was no getting away from it. The beach was going to be a hard section. It was almost exactly high tide so runners were forced to run on the soft uneven sand and with no one wanting to go any further up the beach than necessary, we were regularly dodging each other near the water line. After about a kilometre of running through this I had lost a bit of speed, but was still jogging along at a reasonable pace. Near the end of the beach, I turned at a flag and headed back to finish the first lap.
I picked up speed again the moment I was running on concrete, bursting away into my second lap, but still hearing the chorus of cheers from the pub where a number of my friends were enjoying the day. I actually wasn’t that far into the lap before I caught up to The Cam Stud, who had unfortunately had some hydration/nutrition issues and was bravely battling on. Despite his discomfort, he was in remarkably good spirits (making me think with some chagrin of my earlier dummy spit over a tyre). Sarah and Nige were ready with a camera on the way back, so I tried to put on my best strut as I turned down the hill before grabbing some more water from a wonderful volunteer. My wonderful wife, who supports me as consistently as Pauline Hanson supports Coalition legislation, was waiting just beyond with some running lollies and more water, which I quickly grabbed as I headed out onto the beach.
I hit the sand for the second time and saw Lewinski coming home like a steam train to finish his final lap. The sand felt harder (well actually softer- but harder to run on) the second time around and I slowed further this time. I got a big smile from Mel as we passed one another and a less enthusiastic one from Aimee, but the rest of that section was a bit of a battle. There was now a huge number Get Fit Tas people and Solemates helping out around the aid station, so I was getting a huge amount of encouragement every time I went through. I had heard Courtney cheering for me a number of times, but it took about the third lap until I could pick her out in crowd, and incidentally look straight down the lens of her camera (it was hardly Zoolander at this point though).
I picked up speed again the moment I was running on concrete, bursting away into my second lap, but still hearing the chorus of cheers from the pub where a number of my friends were enjoying the day. I actually wasn’t that far into the lap before I caught up to The Cam Stud, who had unfortunately had some hydration/nutrition issues and was bravely battling on. Despite his discomfort, he was in remarkably good spirits (making me think with some chagrin of my earlier dummy spit over a tyre). Sarah and Nige were ready with a camera on the way back, so I tried to put on my best strut as I turned down the hill before grabbing some more water from a wonderful volunteer. My wonderful wife, who supports me as consistently as Pauline Hanson supports Coalition legislation, was waiting just beyond with some running lollies and more water, which I quickly grabbed as I headed out onto the beach.
I hit the sand for the second time and saw Lewinski coming home like a steam train to finish his final lap. The sand felt harder (well actually softer- but harder to run on) the second time around and I slowed further this time. I got a big smile from Mel as we passed one another and a less enthusiastic one from Aimee, but the rest of that section was a bit of a battle. There was now a huge number Get Fit Tas people and Solemates helping out around the aid station, so I was getting a huge amount of encouragement every time I went through. I had heard Courtney cheering for me a number of times, but it took about the third lap until I could pick her out in crowd, and incidentally look straight down the lens of her camera (it was hardly Zoolander at this point though).
There was also support and humour further along the road where a one woman cheerleading act- complete with music- was doing a fantastic job of making people smile as they passed her. All the support really helped in the third lap, which was the hardest one. I got a few words of encouragement from JC who was on his last lap and just focused on maintaining my pace, all the while sweating like George Brandis being questioned by a senate inquiry. My stomach was starting to cramp and I really felt like I needed some real food instead of gels, bars and lollies. Unfortunately Aimee had used her Mum voice the night before when she banned me from having a box of corn flakes in transition and I was paying for it now.
I pushed through and into the last lap, managing to find an extra bit of pace on the road but losing it again on the beach. The tent that marked the turnaround seemed to be getting further away than our renewable energy target, but I eventually reached it and looked back to the end of my race. Between the quick swim, pushing harder on the bike and the run to this point, I was back in with a chance of hitting the target I had set at the start of the day, even allowing for the lost time. That was pretty exciting, but I was going to have push hard for the last two kilometres to get there. I slowly increased my speed to something I thought I could hold and then half way along the beach increased it again, gritting my teeth as I felt the pain rising in my chest. I ran up from the beach for the last time and turned into the finishers’ chute, crossing the line to be met by my wife and friends, with more cheering on the hill nearby. It was an amazing moment and a really great way to complete the race (full results for the event here).
I learnt a few important lessons today. Obviously, I need to calm down and think about what I am doing more carefully next time I have a mechanical issue. Carrying a spare tyre lever also seems a strong take home point I won’t be ignoring. But the most important lesson of today was not letting a small disappointment ruin my experience. Once I shook off the negativity, I was surprisingly able to make up all time I had lost just by putting my efforts and energy into doing the best I could.
As always, I am thankful to many people as I look back on the day. Obviously the organisers, volunteers and the community of Coles bay for making the event such a welcoming one. On a more personal note I was particularly indebted to The Bike Whisperer, Jason and my lovely wife for their advice and assistance to get me through a momentary panic.
I pushed through and into the last lap, managing to find an extra bit of pace on the road but losing it again on the beach. The tent that marked the turnaround seemed to be getting further away than our renewable energy target, but I eventually reached it and looked back to the end of my race. Between the quick swim, pushing harder on the bike and the run to this point, I was back in with a chance of hitting the target I had set at the start of the day, even allowing for the lost time. That was pretty exciting, but I was going to have push hard for the last two kilometres to get there. I slowly increased my speed to something I thought I could hold and then half way along the beach increased it again, gritting my teeth as I felt the pain rising in my chest. I ran up from the beach for the last time and turned into the finishers’ chute, crossing the line to be met by my wife and friends, with more cheering on the hill nearby. It was an amazing moment and a really great way to complete the race (full results for the event here).
I learnt a few important lessons today. Obviously, I need to calm down and think about what I am doing more carefully next time I have a mechanical issue. Carrying a spare tyre lever also seems a strong take home point I won’t be ignoring. But the most important lesson of today was not letting a small disappointment ruin my experience. Once I shook off the negativity, I was surprisingly able to make up all time I had lost just by putting my efforts and energy into doing the best I could.
As always, I am thankful to many people as I look back on the day. Obviously the organisers, volunteers and the community of Coles bay for making the event such a welcoming one. On a more personal note I was particularly indebted to The Bike Whisperer, Jason and my lovely wife for their advice and assistance to get me through a momentary panic.