Everyone is flowing and jostling, and you may find yourself in the perfect position – only a couple of rows to the front, and surrounded by women (who I thought may be less aggressive), only to realise five minutes later those in front of you are five deep and all male. Amidst the hushed anticipation drums rolled continuously played by two drummers in traditional Hawaiian dress. The sun hadn’t yet broken over the horizon, so it wasn’t that warm in the water – but I consciously enjoyed feeling cold since I knew the heat that was ahead. Surely this was the point of no return.īecause of the sheer number of competitors that had to get into the water ready for the deep-water start at 7am, you couldn’t really hang around on the pier until five minutes before the start as at other races.
#Nourish move love split strong 35 skin
I did a final check of my bike and added all my bike nutrition in a bento box on the top tube, and then got my swim skin on, had a gel and got in the sea. Research involved more weighing, checking my thermometer pill taken the previous night was still somewhere in me and transmitting happily (it was, and I was a very-normal 37⁰), questionnaires, urine sample and saliva and cheek swabs. I was glad that I was weighed in pounds rather than kilos since it meant nothing to me – it is not encouraging to know before you even start that you are dragging around more body weight than you thought. My upper arms are barely long enough for the large digits of 1998 to be branded down them. 3:49 is earlier than I have ever got up for a race, but I thought (for a change) I would avoid having to rush, and also leave enough time for weigh-in, body-marking and the bits and pieces for the research study. Restlessness allows for extra night-time snacking and although you feel you haven’t had a wink the fact you wake up groggy when alarm 1 (of 3, not that you need any at all) goes off at 3:49am – I figure I must have slept at some point. I never expect to sleep well before a race, and Friday night was no different. Needless to say I needed a few extra sheets of paper…(I amaze even myself with my ability to eat). The research I was participating in required me to record all consumption from the morning before through to two days after the race. Basket…” “Basket?!” Ha.) Post bike-check I hitched a lift home (having ridden my bike in) and let the eating commence. I would love to sprint through the funnel where this happens to panic all the counters… or alternatively check in an old bike with a wicker basket (would be handy for race nutrition) just to watch their faces and require them to have to make new columns for new categories (“Frame: steel, Raleigh. Before racking your bike and helmet are safety-checked, while people call out the make and model of parts of your bike and tallies are made – apparently a good indicator of the industry shares of the big bike brands.
I parked my bike in its numbered slot, hung up my transition bags and did a rehearsal walk-through. Racking on the Friday seemed like one of these ‘no-return’ moments. Never at any point have I wanted to duck out of the race, but I like to know I could if I wanted to, that going forward remains a choice. So many moments along the way on this adventure did I consciously think “This is the point of no return”.
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