I, I wish I could swim
Like the dolphins, like dolphins can swim,
Though nothing will drive them away
We could beat them, just for one day
We could be heroes, just for one day
Maturin, Llewellyn, and I cycled round the bike route and the run route on the days before the event. This sort of scouting is essential I think. I can scarcely imagine how disheartening it would be to come across an unexpected uphill section - for example - right at the end of the event in the run.
I completed the Springfield triathlon this morning. It wasn't a spectacular performance but I ground it out fortified simultaneously by two convictions: first, that there was no chance in Hell that I wasn't going to complete it; second, that there was no chance in Hell that if I stopped to rest at all I would get going again.
Now that I know I've got the wind to propel myself round a sprint triathlon course, I'm also pretty sure that I could improve my times, without necessarily getting fitter, by getting better at cycling and swimming.
That said, I was killing my speed this morning with plenty of braking while swooping down Box Hill in the pouring rain on slick tyres. I could have gone faster, but I couldn't help but wonder if triathletes get their numbers written on both arms and both legs by officials to help with reassembling bodies after accidents.
Thanks are also due to the Maturin family for looking after me so shplendidly over the weekend.