Triwoman... that's me!

I could've been devoured by a shark in the ocean. But I wasn't.
I could've been thrown off my bike by a car. But I wasn't.
I could've broken my toe on a pylon. But I didn't.

I survived the final triathlon of NZ’s annual triwoman series... with no injuries to boot!

In the days leading up to the event, I was a bit nervous about the forecast for race day as Auckland's atmospheric conditions have been somewhat unpredictable lately. Several days ago, Auckland experienced record heat with 100% humidity. Two days later, we were curled up with a blanket on the couch watching the torrential downpour through the window. Since then, the weather has been unforeseeable.

Turned out the weather was PERFECT. Not too hot. Not too cold. Very little rain. NO WIND.

And look at the view from the transition area... no complaints there!

(The view (not all visible in this photo) includes the Harbour Bridge, the Sky Tower, and Rangitoto).

Lowell, my official photographer, was so thorough with his ‘detail shots’ that he even documented the port-a-loos... the site of the compulsory PRP. A woman observing him commented, “Isn’t that kind of purvey?”

Well TECHNICALLY, yes… but not really.

I'M IN ONE OF THOSE!!!

So, let’s set up my transition area already!

(Note the lack of people thus far. We’re such keeners!)

Annnnd it’s 8am.
Time to see the first wave of swimmers off.

23 minutes later... my turn!

Atrocious hair? Check. Bug eyes? Check.

Then let’s SWIM!

It was probably the best swim I’ve ever participated in. The water was warmish, I wasn’t being constantly kneed/elbowed by hoards of medal-hungry triathletes, and it was a one-way, STRAIGHT swim parallel to the shore. All these things together dulled the memory that I hadn’t even swam once in preparation for this race. Sure, I’ve boogy boarded and frolicked in waves… but I hadn’t SWAM. At all. Too much other kiwi adventuring (and not to mention WORK) going on for this girl!

After a painfully slow transition from the swim (apparently I’m a little rusty), I started the bike.

A colleague of mine—bless her soul—lent me the bike. My buttock graced it’s seat for the first time early last week, and the PAIN. Oh the pain. Some ladies at work came to my rescue and provided me with two squares of foam (from the OT supply room!) and a gel-padded seat cover.

Bike seat before...

(Oooo, the nerves in my bum start dying just LOOKING at this picture!)

Bike seat after...

(Sure, it looks like it's been cursed with multiple tumors, but I cruised through the entire bike route without a single thought of my rear, so I consider the foam-stuffed gel pad a rousing SUCCESS!)

And finally for the last leg of the triathlon... the run.

My little tootsies flew over the finish line in under 50 minutes.

(Wow, I didn’t FEEL like I looked that intense. Apparently I was pretty focused on the finish line. Yikes- don't mess with ME!)

The whole experience was a LOT more low key than previous triathlons I’ve competed in. Like- you don’t have to wear a swim cap (neither were they PROVIDED, and I hadn't toted any of my 15 from Canada), nothing is CHECKED, nothing is strictly marshaled, and they don’t announce the winners. It’s all about promoting general good health for women. Which is great I suppose… but the competitive side of me wants RESULTS….NOW!!!

According to the website, I crossed the finish line at 47:10 and placed 32 out of 814. Not too shabby for not training... but it's a little disconcerting that had I been TEN SECONDS faster (darn those transitions), I would've come in 25th. Bah!

(PS- there is NO WAY I could have finished an Olympic distance triathlon in that time. It was a mini triathlon, and the distances were as follows: Swim: 300m; Bike: 10km; run: 3km).