Catherine Faux, one of the nouriSH me now sponsored athletes took to Spain for the Long Distance Triathlon World Championships taking the win in her age group. Here's Catherine's account on how the day unfolded.
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My run up to this
race wasn’t ideal. It was highly inconsiderate of one of my best friends to
schedule her wedding immediately before the race, but at least it forced me to
be more organised than I usually would. I seem to be making a habit of rolling
up at weddings with race kit in tow but happily this time didn’t have to travel
with my bike (quite incompatible with dresses, but looks pretty cool I like to
think).
Arriving in Spain
it seemed pleasantly English (grey and drizzly – but perfect for racing) –
which always works in my favour (as in South Africa) but doesn’t help to
prepare me for the (almost) guaranteed furnace of Kona in October. Saturday was
a regimented plan of land-transfer-register-ride-T2-T1-stuff
my face in quick succession, which all went very smoothly (thankfully,
since there was no real room for error). I rode the bike course for about an
hour, a rolling route through small towns, past sunflower fields and over
rivers. Not only does a quick leg-spin serve to check both me and Kitty (the
bike) have travelled ok and not developed any new clicks or clunks, it stokes
up the excitement for the following day, especially discovering the bike route
was ideal for me – fast and flat-ish, non-technical, and scenic.
The pro males set
off at 8:30, the females at 8:33 and then all the male age groups before we
toed the start line as the first females age groupers off at 8:58. This was
good for the bike leg (plenty of guys to chick) but bad for the swim (too many
guys to get stuck behind). It was encouraging in the swim to spot different
coloured hats – my wave had white hats, but you could identify the waves
sequentially as you caught them – yellow, blue, red green.
I was told leaving
the water in about 1:03 for 4km (which given I always do a bit further is not
too bad…) that I was in 5th position in my wave (all women under 30,
though was 2nd in my age group). Four to overtake. That’s doable, I
thought.
It’s always a
relief to get on the bike, the start of a long stretch before you have to think
too hard about anything. I overtook one woman early on, and the order of the wave
start with all the men first meant there were literally hundreds to chase down
and gobble up. I find it difficult to identify whether I’m approaching a male
or female competitor from behind – tanned, toned triathletes are surprisingly
similar looking when legs are shaved and lycra is donned. Body marking on
calves helped, as did first names on race numbers, but the women were nowhere
to be seen. Respect to them, I thought – they must be pretty nifty on the bike
since I certainly wasn’t crawling, judging by the numbers I was passing and the
comparatively few who would pass me. It later occurred to me that I had spotted
a few women faffing in transition, and perhaps that would explain only finding
one on the road.
The miles ticked
by pleasantly quickly, 120km done in 3:16, 1st back to T2. The
course was a lap and a half, starting from the lake about 20 miles from the
city to T2 which was nestled in the heart of the historic and pretty city centre.
Considering how much more I love cycling than running, I always get weirdly
excited approaching the end of the bike leg, partly because of my bum wanting
to get off a seat and partly for the change of scene, as well as being that
much closer to the finish. I am continuing to notice the awesomeness and
expertise that has gone into my bike set up – comments from people who know a
lot about bikes, as well as the splits it allows me to do. I’m hugely
appreciative of the investment and work that has gone into this.
The run was
amazingly well supported, and again it is always good being female towards the
front of the field since you are a bit of a novelty and inevitably get more
cheers. It also helps to smile and acknowledge people. I learnt plenty of new
Spanish words; “¡Animo!” (Google translate: “Take heart!/Cheer up!/Keep
it up!”) and the support from
Brits was brilliant too. The run had four flat laps, each around 7km. I like
laps. I was suffering a little bit towards the end of the run, feeling a bit
woozy as the weather heated up and the tank gradually depleted. I wasn’t even
nearly making the lap splits I hoped for, but gauging my speed by those around
me I seemed to be doing ok and eventually ended up with 2nd quickest
run in my age group. Part of each lap was an out-and-back so you can stare down
your competition whilst smiling sweetly as if you’re not even slightly tired.
It was impossible to guess which lap others were on – no wristbands or markers,
and I thought for most of the run that I was plodding in 5th place
(with no idea whether this was overall, female age-groupers or within 25-29,
which lead to considerable brain scramble and didn’t particular help or hinder
my legs). At this point the greatest motivation is not winning (especially when
I don’t think I’m in with a shot) but looking forward to the delicious point of
allowing myself to stop, the inflatable finish gantry and the stadium tantalizingly
close as you passed it twice on each lap.
After 2 hours and
18 minutes of running it was finally time to peel down the finish chute. Normal
drill after the line: finishers’ medal on, timing chip off, copious amounts of
water and watermelon in (some of the most enjoyable eating and drinking you’ll
ever do), and basking in that lovely I’ve-just-finished feeling (which if I
could bottle and ration myself would make me a very happy lady every day). I
asked one of the race directors where I came but didn’t really believe him
since for the previous 2 hours I’d been convinced I was not even in with a shot
of a medal. I later discovered my time of 6:42:17 was quick enough to win my
age group (and all the others) and would have pitched me again in the middle of
the 18-strong female pro field, nestled between 8th and 9th
place. Happy with that.
Thank yous to all the
usual suspects – my family, friends, NouriSH me now, Huub, Bridgtown Cycles,
Judith, Paul. I hope the constant thanks isn’t dulled by its frequency – my
gratitude does not wane and I take nothing for granted.
Finally a quote
from one of my favourite films, Chariots
of Fire, which needs no explanation but that I strive (and fail, but then
try again) to live by: “You
can praise God by peeling a spud if you peel it to perfection. Don't
compromise. Compromise is a language of the devil. Run in God's name and let
the world stand back and in wonder.” I will need to remind
myself of this when triathlon is required to take a back seat when I finish my
current job and return to my degree (it’s definitely tougher to work hard at
things which are less fun), but right now I am having the time of my life and
will continue to peel my current spud as well as I can.
Cat.
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