#runcyclerun

03/04/2016 | Windsor Duathlon | Or how I did my very first duathlon and hated it

I love cycling more than eating or going to the movies. Running is my addiction. Where others say they need a drink, I need a run. In theory, combining the two sounds almost too good to be true.

What is a duathlon exactly? 10km run, 40km ride, 5km run —in that order— forms a standard distance duathlon. The inaugural Windsor Duathlon was to take place in the Great Park (basically, Her Majesty’s back garden). What’s not to like?

“If you take one more step, you’re disqualified!” There I was, pushing my bike towards the transition area. I was wearing, for the first time ever, a tri suit. I had cycling shoes under my arm, timing chip around my ankle, bib displayed exactly as instructed. What on earth was I doing wrong?! The next few minutes were a crash course in “transitionese:” how to behave in the transition area so you get yelled at and possibly disqualified.

1. Have your helmet hanging off your handlebars. Instant grounds for disqualification. 2. Wear a commuter helmet that arouses suspicion and forces the marshal to make several phone calls (“You should see that thing! There is no way this meets the standards! Let’s check the ISO again.”) 3. Have earphones dangling around your neck, and an iPod in your pocket. Express loud dismay when told that music is strictly forbidden. 4. Openly display a mobile phone on you. 5. Ask “why?” a lot. The marshals will love that! 6. As for your choice of steed, rock up on a steel road bike circa 1984, triggering an immediate debate over its roadworthiness.

By the skin of my teeth, I was finally declared fit to enter the transition area. But the incident had deflated me. And so, sans music, my phone hidden in my bra, I began the first leg: the 10km run. If you only ever run or cycle with music, going without can be quite a discombobulating experience. I just couldn’t find my pace! Not equipped with any gadgets, I jogged behind others, only to learn later that I had probably ran my slowest run ever. All because of the lack of rhythm!

Cycling was somewhat more bearable, even though —again!— the killjoys yelled at me for various reasons, in transition as well as the course. By the time I left T2 ( the second transition), I had had enough of this whole tedium. Yes, I may yet return to duathlons but as far as I’m concerned, getting sweaty should always involve as much fun as possible.