Ras al Khaimah Triathlon – a surprise of Olympic proportions.

Well, after all the negativity I have felt over the past few months of training, the RAK Olympic distance race actually went much better than expected. I had only managed to swim two or three times in the lead up so I had absolutely no idea how the 1500m would go. My bike is, as we all know, pretty weak and my running is only just starting to take shape. However, despite all my negative mental-prep, somehow I had a good race.

                  I drove from Dubai to RAK on the morning of the race with a friend, who was taking on his first triathlon. This meant that instead of spending the entire drive panicking about transition, nutrition and jellyfish, I distracted myself by trying to calm him down. Turns out this may actually be my new race tactic.

                  It was, by UAE standards, absolutely Baltic when we arrived at the race start. I had a North Face down jacket on and I could still feel the bite of winter. However, race nerves quickly kicked in and after a quick visit to the unusually gross toilets, it was time to rack the bikes and set up transition. Having not raced for over 18 months I’d been a bit worried about forgetting things, but I quickly got back in to my routine of socks rolled in to trainers, gels stuffed in underneath them and dangle my race belt from my tri-bars to show my number when I’m blindly racing/stumbling towards my bike.

                  In true style, despite being, by my standards, organised, I was still late enough to have to leg it down to the swim start in time for the briefing and a quick pre-race jellyfish check. Reassured that there were no evil, slimy demons in the water, I set my self in the second line of women to enter the water, confident that I could get out ahead and get myself a bit of space. Thank goodness I did. The start was absolute chaos with first-timers pushing eagerly to the front only to be mown down by faster, heavier and more brutal competitors. Thankfully, my wetsuit and my personal winter padding did the job of keeping me buoyant and speedy, and I managed to get out and to the first buoy before the melee. As I looped past the finish on to the second lap I realised I had now caught most of the wave ahead of me and that I was actually enjoying the swim! I half-heartedly tried kicking a few times but that seemed like an unnecessary waste of energy so I focused instead on long, streamlined strokes and conserving energy for the dreaded bike. The swim was measured wrong so we all ended up swimming 1750m, but with a Garmin time of 32 minutes, I staggered drunkenly out of the swim in positive spirits.

These lasted until around 30km in to the 40km bike split. I was pretty convinced I had held my own in the swim and was reassured by how many bikes were still left in transition when I stumbled through. So, twat-hat on on, shoes tightened, food stuffed in to pockets, inhaler cleared of salt water… go. The first 20kms felt like a breeze. I span at an easy 30km per hour, knowing that I would lose ground on the bike split. A few women came tanking past me but instead of being overtaken by negativity I was pretty chuffed to have beaten all these machine ladies out of the water! Sadly, the wind picked up in the last lap, and with it went my positivity and my energy. My legs suddenly weighed two tonnes, and gears that I had been spinning in earlier suddenly felt like they were coated in treacle. I ground my way to transition, forgetting my golden rule – always spin for the last few minutes of a bike split to prepare your legs for the onslaught of movement on the run.

                  This turned out to be a real mistake. I started off on the run with heavy legs and a generally unsure and wobbly mindset. I kept thinking that I should be able to run faster and deal with the pain, but every time I sped up I ended up backing off and settling back to a very conservative pace. You know that well heeled phrase ‘get comfortable with uncomfortable’? I was the antithesis of this phrase. I was basically on the sofa watching Netflix. I finished the run at Netflix pace feeling that I could have run the same distance at the same pace again. Positive in terms of endurance, but I definitely could and perhaps should have pushed harder.

                  All in all, RAK was a great race. The swim was an absolute dream and the run taught me a few lessons with regard to pushing myself. For a first race since racing for GB in Ibiza in 2018, I was happy with how I felt. I can still do all three disciplines, I still know how to execute a good transition and I still fit in to my wetsuit (just). I just need to realise that pain is part of the process, and I need to re-acquaint myself with this if I’m going to get anywhere with this IronMan training!