London Duathlon 2010 - A Beginner's Perspective

I must admit I was regretting my decision to sign up for the London Duathlon – The thought of participating in the worlds’ largest Duathlon seemed a good idea at the time of registration, now it was very daunting. The race is held in the spectacular Richmond Park, which is the largest open space in London covering almost 1,000 hectares (2,500 acres), and is home to a huge array of wildlife, including hundreds of deer.

Negative thoughts were racing through my head as I attempted to assemble my bike in a small corner of my London hotel’s lobby. “The room is too small for the bike” the receptionist told me when checking in. Great! With every single guest and hotel employee, that happened to be in the lobby at that point in time, starting at me like I was some kind of alien, hands covered in grease, I kept staring at my bike as if it were the first time I was looking at it. Bolts, springs and pieces of bike looked totally unfamiliar. Getting all hot and bothered and almost in tears I phoned my training buddy Cyp in an attempt to share my frustration rather than anything else. What could he do miles away back home in Malta. Having vented my frustration on a totally amused Cyp, I went back to assembling the bike. Half an hour later I gave it to the hotel staff who promised they would look after it for me until I was assigned my room.

Knowing that there are travel restrictions for bikes, I decide to trace my travel route for race day that afternoon and would also give me the opportunity to collect my Race number and pack. It takes me about an hour to get to Richmond Park. The roads are littered with signs advising drivers that roads in the Park would be closed the following day. I start to get pre-race nerves as I find myself approaching the ‘Race Village’ as it is called.

The area is a hive of activity, the transition area is being setup, banners raised, fellow athletes are forming a line to register and volunteers and busy giving directions and offering assistance to lost athletes like me! Race day planning is essential, so that racking of bike, warm up, hydration and focus can be achieved so that one can put in their best performance.

Collecting my race pack, I eagerly open the envelope to find the race number, security wristband to be worn from Registration until equipment is collected after the race, bike and helmet stickers to be fixed to the equipment before going into transition and the electronic timing chip to be worn on the ankle throughout the event. My number is 2421. I can’t believe I am taking part in my first international race!

The butterflies have gone up from my stomach to my mouth. My major concern is the bike. What if I have not assembled it properly and it breaks down half way? What if my tyres burst and I can’t repair them, thus ruining the whole event for me. These are things that could happen in every race so I try to banish these negative thoughts from my head.

Although the allocated time for my start is 11:25 I know I will wake up early anyway and would also need to allow for travel time, so I head back to the hotel with every intention of an early night. I still needed to unpack and prepare my kit for the following day. Checking into my room, to my horror I find I have a slow puncture. I try to repair it but seems to get worse. In tears I go down to the lobby and ask the receptionist, who looks amusedly at me, whether there was an open bike shop in the vicinity. I am in luck, he advises, after phoning the shop he found on his database, as they are open. I rush up to my room to get the bike, catch a taxi and go to the bike shop who fixes my puncture in no time. Wheel sorted I feel a bit more confident as I find my way back to the hotel. Neverthless the excitment, tension and nerves are on the increase.

Having eaten a plate of pasta giving me enough carbs in preparation for the race, I settle down to watch some television, to keep my mind off things. Surprisingly sleep soon takes over and I sleep a restful slumber all night, waking up when the first, of six alarms go off the same morning. Having ensured that all my kit is prepared, my race numbers are in my bag and I have a forced breakfast I set off to Waterloo station to catch my train. I see a few cyclists, which all look like pros, making me feel like an amateur which in all honesty I am.

The train journey seems never ending. More cyclists join along the way. Most of them are travelling in groups and are chatting animatedly. I never cease to be amazed at the good spirits some athletes have before a race – something that I always which I can achieve – but most of the times the butterflies take over and I clam up. I feel much better at having gone to check the venue the previous afternoon. All I need to do now is get to the transition area, rack my bike, warm up and get ready to roll!!

To my relief, I find a bike mechanic who is offering a mini-service for £15 – I quickly put myself in the queue. I am definitely not going to hold back from paying £15, if anything for my peace of mind. Twenty minutes later my bike has been seen to and fine tuned for the race.

Having fixed all the stickers, labels, race numbers etc to my paraphernalia I queue up to rack my bike. Prior to entering the transition area I am vetted thoroughly – my helmet checked to ensure it conforms to European Safety Standards – once this has been verified, I am waved in, by a very cheerful steward.

Finding my way through the transition/racking area I find my rack and start setting up my bike and belongings – helmet on handle bars, bottle of energy drink in bottle cage, rest of belonging neatly put aside so as not to be in the way.

A variety of emotions re gong thorough me – pride and excitement at being part of such a major event, loneliness as I am alone with no one to encourage, reassure me or share my excitement, no support from my friends who are there when I race in Malta and worry that I have bitten more than I could or should have chewed. Since I still have enough time before I start warming up I keep my mind off things by taking photos of the surroundings and go through the race route map provided knowing full well that I would forget the mental picture I tried to place in my mind. I just hoped that I would not be too far back from any competitors so that I could follow them.

The amount of carb drinks I drank throughout the morning had their effect and I find myself in the queue to the little girls’ room …..well outdoor mobile toilets to be exact. I strike a conversation with a fellow female athlete only to realize that we had ‘spoken’ to each other on Facebook the previous week. How strange is that – to find each other amidst the 2,500 or so participants. What was uncanny was the fact that we shared the same birth date! Three visits to the bathroom and a good warm up session later it is time to start queuing up. Participants are batched in groups of fifty and started off every ten minutes. Everything is working like clockwork. The organisation is amazing. Controlling so many athletes is no joke!

Finger on the Garmin start button, my legs are ready to run. Prior to starting us off, the steward gives us some words of encouragement and gives us a boisterous send off.

Finally the race is on!

Most of the athletes in my group shoot off but I pace myself knowing that I had to cope with a 10k run, a 20k cycle and a 5k run. It will be a long morning but I just pick up a steady pace and try to focus on my breathing. I want to enjoy the scenery as it is not every day that I can run in Richmond Park in glorious sunny weather. The sunny and warm weather has drawn a large number of crowds, some supporting friends and family others just absorbing the atmosphere.

I am quite surprised that my tension has gone away and I find myself enjoying every minute of it. Perhaps the fact that I don’t need to work on an improved time, that I am the only Maltese doing this race helps. No pressure. Each step that I make will take me closer to the finish line. The temperature is quite hot and water stations are very welcoming. Manned by people of every shape, size and age they all have one thing in common – enthusiasm and support towards all athletes. A simple “way to go”, or “come on love” can really motivate me. With a smile on my face (I realize this after seeing the photos) I keep running along.

Reaching the transition area, I start hoping that I find my bike, after all there are thousands of them, in one piece without any flat tyres. I must admit that the cycling leg is always my favourite in multi sport events. I just love shooting out of the transition area, even though my legs would still be unaccustomed to the change. The course is not at easy as I thought it would be. The wind is blowing form the opposite direction causing further resistance whilst negotiating some steep inclines.

There is some stiff competition between other cyclists as they zoom past me, granting expletives that would not give them any prizes for camaraderie. I find myself ‘competing’ against a young slightly overweight but nevertheless strong cyclist, who to my dismay breezes past me in the hills. I manage to fly past him in the flat surfaces and it becomes a sort of duel between us. I push hard as I want to beat him. I focus on my pace and the ‘duel’ ends in my favour having reached the transition area well ahead of him.

Changing quickly into my running shoes, my legs feel like jelly. The adrenaline is pumping. I admit that I can’t wait to get to the finish line to savour those few seconds of glory of having finished a race that I never even knew of until a few weeks before. As I run my last few kilometers I am delighted to see deer, totally unfazed with all the activity surrounding them. The race instructions had warned us to be careful of any deer that might shoot out onto the road but this one just happily munching away on the lush green grass.

With each step I was getting closer to the finish line. I found myself overtaking exhausted runners. I kept visualizing the finish line, but as soon as I could actually see it I felt a surge of energy running through my body.

As I sprinted into the finish line, amidst the cheers of strangers, I made sure I savoured every second of that moment.

I had successfully completed the world’s largest Duathlon in 2 hours 37 mins.

Proudly wearing my finisher’s medal I walked to my bike with the biggest smile ever. Wanting to share this moment with my friends, I shyly asked a fellow athlete to take my photos with my Blackberry. Uploading it on Facebook within seconds I was happy that technology allowed me to share this moment in real time!