Triathlete. Check.

And that's David Dungan from ... uh ... Bailieborough, finishing his swim!

I'm not sure if the hesitation was over an uncertainty on the pronunciation or they were just shocked at how slow I got round the swim course, but that wasn't the point. The point was with those nine words over the loudspeaker, I realized I had beaten my biggest fear of this whole thing and was now onto the bike. This was a spot I could get the hammer down and feel somewhat comfortable. I was on dry land. This was natural.

The swim, though, that was brutal. Pool swimming is fine, but it just does not prepare you for a lake swim. Surrounded by other people. And getting kicked in the face. And taking a lungful of lake water. Simultaneously. My stroke disintegrated in that moment, some 450 meters from the finish and even now, 4 days on, I can still feel a tightness in my muscles from where I did everything wrong in the water. By the time I hit land again, my legs were like jelly and my shoulders already ached. Of the three disciplines, it's the one I want back to do over most. But no matter, I got through it. I clipped on my helmet, opened up an energy gel pack and rolled the bike out of transition. I was on my way.

And there, about 500m in, was a photographer. And so, the one official action shot of me from this race is me grimacing while desperately trying to suck the contents of a small plastic package dry. Balls.



After about 5km of the bike, I settled in and started to enjoy it. I started to take in the scenery, and acknowledge the support of some locals who were lining the route. I found a few gears that I liked. I found a rhythm. There was that glorious moment when I passed someone for the first time. I had a small mechanical problem after about 13km, but it was easily fixed and I was back on my way. Almost before I realized it, I was passing the 15km mark and on to the home stretch. I did 5 of my 20km in under 2:15, which I was thrilled with.

The run was made enjoyable by the simple fact that I fell into sync with another athlete and we just talked and joked our way through the 5km, setting targets for ourselves – we'll run to that corner, walk to the next tree, run to that laneway, walk up the hill. I was only marginally slower than my goal time for this section, and, truth be told, I had already decided on doing another Triathlon long before I crossed the finish line and they hung the finisher's medal around my neck.

Last Saturday, I faced what was probably my toughest challenge in a long, long time. When I panicked in the water, I had a literal Sink-or-Swim moment. I had the mental wherewithal to get myself together enough to get through it, if not to actually get through it all that well. In retrospect, I probably did everything wrong in terms of preparation – too much gym work, not enough road biking or running. Stationary bikes and treadmills are fine, but they're no substitute for the real thing. I didn't read a single book on Triathlons or training for them, and aside from some YouTube videos for pointers and a lesson from a dear friend, my swim preparation was wholly inadequate in a pool that is probably too short to get any real benefit from.

And yet, as I sit here and type this, I can see that finisher's medal hanging on the bookshelf. I am a Triathlete.

So that's my 2017 Triathlon Adventure over with. I'm already planning my 2018 ones. And serious planning too. I've ordered books, I've marked potential races into a calendar, recruited Gretna as a swim coach and I've contacted some clubs in the Toronto area about joining and training with them.

The Sprint distance might not have been what I said I'd do way back in January, and the injury that forced me to retire from the Toronto Triathlon weekend was devastating, but it drove me onwards with a determination that I'm not sure I had before. In terms of scale, this will pale in comparison to other people's accomplishments, and hopefully to some of my future ones.


But I also know how much blood sweat and tears went in to the medal hanging over there, and for that reason, I'll always be proud of it.

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