In the final week of her training programme, EMMA SOMER’s adrenalin kicks in as she compiles her checklist and surveys the course before tomorrow’s long-awaited Howth triathlon
THE SEA HAS a face like thunder and, try as I might, I can’t recall how I ended up in this slate-gray wilderness: did I belly flop in? Was I lowered in by winch? Either way, I’ve made it to shore, but there’s just the briefest chance to experience elation before confusion sets in. The transition looms and my bike, complete with basket and handbag and all manner of other nonsensical accessories, suddenly appears, long after the other racers have hit the road. Which way? Who cares: there’s the finishing line and I’m not in Howth any more, Toto. I’m in Central Park, stumbling across the finishing line with a searing pain through my knee.
By now a small part of my subconscious knows it’s all a dream; another part is desperately trying to remember how I made it through the swim.
It’s a rude awakening to the reality that I haven’t done near enough training, and time is making itself scarce.
The health and mood are much improved since last week’s dose of Echinachea/ Goldenseal/Cat Claw (it’s far from Cat Claw you were raised etc, etc), and my confidence has been rebuilt somewhat by a few long swims in the sea. I’m just about up to 750 metres, if the fella on the pier at Seapoint is to be believed. “Out to that bridge there would be around 350 metres,” he tells us, with imperial confidence. Google Maps later confirms he’s not far off.
Google Maps is my new best friend. With it, I am stalking Howth Head.
THE ENEMY
The planned reconnaissance was delayed due to illness and injury but we’ll be making a lap of the cycle and run route before race day, especially after the guy in Cycleways asked: “The Howth triathlon? Are you ready for the madness?” The course, apparently, couldn’t be hillier. No problems, then, for someone used to cycling and running around lovely flat Dublin.
Adrenalin is kicking in, though, so it’s possibly better to have left it this long to check out the competition. And the course is the competition. Despite the stern chats I’m having with myself about not training enough, I’m not losing sight of my original goal: get fitter, get to know Dublin better, get to the finish line.
Check, check and . . . well, we’ll see about that last one.
Speed doesn’t factor into it. Which is a good thing, considering I put my wetsuit on inside-out the other day. Clearly the transitions are not going to be kind to me or my finishing time. From the cycle to the run shouldn’t be too taxing, as I’ll be wearing runners anyway (see previously mentioned fears of cleats). It’s the swim to cycle that’s making me toss and turn.
There won’t be much in the line of crowds getting in my way: I fully expect to be the last person out of the water, hopefully on foot, not winch. From Claremont beach, it’s 300 metres to the transition area, and my biggest concern is sand in my socks for the duration thereafter. This, assuming I can get out of my wetsuit (it’s been a considerable chore thus far).
Swimming socks could be the solution. They’d surely slow down any respectable triathlete, but as I struggle to co-ordinate kick/stroke/breathing, that’s not much of a concern for me. And so I find myself in the comfort zone: socks, sunglasses, scratch vests, Vaseline, neoprene, silicone hats . . . memories of the New York City marathon are still raw, even if my various chaffs, blisters and rashes aren’t.
And all this list-making (triathlon.racechecklist.com) is at least keeping me awake at night.
The devil is in the detail between here and the deep blue sea.
THE CAUSE: 3Ts (TURN THE TIDE OF SUICIDE)
Like much of the spandex that will be on display at tomorrow’s race, money is too tight to mention. But if you have a few yoyos to spare, I’m doing the race for the 3Ts charity, which raises awareness about suicide in Ireland and fundraises to help lower suicide rates through dedicated research, educational support and intervention. All donations, no matter how small, would be gratefully received at mycharity.ie/event/auldtriathlete.
See also twitter.com/auldtriathlete