Scarlett
My partner.
Alex
A friend of mine, who was training for a 70.3 Ironman at the time.
I took part in my first triathlon, the Ballinskelligs Sprint Triathlon. Here's how it went, and how the lead-up was.
Ireland has a culture of "going for a dip" in the ocean, rather than full-on swimming, because it's cold. Having been in the ocean here before with a surf wetsuit and knowing the discomfort of trying to actually swim in one, I'd never really considered open water swimming here.
My partner.
A friend of mine, who was training for a 70.3 Ironman at the time.
Around that time, I started the world's least structured training plan for an aquabike (i.e. go for a really long cycle, spend a long time in the pool swimming 1km breaststroke). While looking for aquabike events, I struggled to find anything while there was - naturally - quite a few triathlon events.
Eventually, I signed up for a triathlon (Celtic Warrior) in the end of December, to make it feel real and take training on for real.
I started a proper training plan (from Joe Friel's Your First Triathlon) on the 20th January. Had a pretty good time of it, but only having one rest day a week is pretty draining. This was a 12 week plan with the last two weeks mostly being a taper, since the intent is to start the plan in the run up to an event.
Since I was about to go on holiday for a few weeks, I let it end on week 10, then started into halfway through the plan for the Olympic distance. I did about 5 weeks of that plan, then a 1.5 week taper from the sprint plan. That taper included a brick/simulation that ended up being more intense than any other workouts I'd done thus far exactly a week before the race!
We have a Smart ForTwo and no bike rack, since the one my family had from years ago turned out not to be compatible with our car. Thankfully, they're so supportive that my mum came to Dublin to rent a car and pick up my bicycle (1h each way, plus traffic) before the drive to Ballinskelligs (~5h each way), then back to Dublin again to drop the car and my bicycle off.
The day before the event, I baked a focaccia with rosemary and garlic confit that I'd prepped a few days earlier, so that I'd have lots of carbs I'd be happily eating on and before the day.
We'd both taken the afternoon off for the drive to Kerry, which took about 6 hours including a rest stop (at the world famous Barack Obama Plaza in Moneygal) and traffic.
My family arrived 2 hours later, having left later since they had to work in the afternoon, and I put the front wheel back on my bike and adjusted my very shitty brakes. After a few laps of the driveway and a few youtube videos, I went to bed at midnight - well before my usual bedtime!
We ate breakfast around 11, collected my race pack from the GAA club nearby (swim cap, race numbers, no t-shirt because I didn't want one - in retrospect I wish I had), then went back to pack my transition bag before getting coffee with my family.
While at the cafe I started getting anxious about my timing, so I headed back to the airbnb to change into my trisuit and cycled down to transition, thinking I was cutting it tight, leaving only about 15 minutes before the time transition would close.
Anti-chafing cream for use in a wetsuit, or wetsuit lube, serves two main purpose. First, it prevents chafing. Second, it helps you get the wetsuit off quicker/more easily.
Shout out to the guy who'd racked his bike beside me and made some brief small talk and wished me luck on my first race!
10-15 minutes after the stated time, transition closed and all the people who weren't meant to be in there (supporters, mostly) started to vacate.
While we waited I admired people's kit. Loads of cool fancy bikes around, at least one disc wheel, and then there was my commuter bike, mudguards and all. I did have one of the fancier wetsuits though, plenty of surf wetsuits and less slick looking decathlon-branded ones around.
The announcements were a pretty good source of entertainment too: "bag drop" is that trailer by the side of the road, literally go drop your bag in it; does anyone have a spare men's wetsuit?; does anyone have a spare race belt?. Turns out the answer to both of those was yes. Lucky for the person who forgot their wetsuit!
Finally, we were asked to clear out of transition for the start/further announcements. The race director gave a pretty entertaining and very local-feeling speech, shouted out some people, gave us some tips on sighting for the swim and a brief reminder of the cycle/run course, then got us all to head down to the beach to get ready for the Olympic to start with a 30 minute lead.
Off they went, as my nerves continued spiralling. Thankfully, the setup for the race was very relaxed, and I had all my supporters on the beach with me.
This made for a very nice contrast to the running events I'm used to supporting Scarlett at, where everyone's behind pens the whole time.
With 30 minutes passed and most of the Olympic field finishing up their swim, the Sprint folks were given their mark to set off. Here we go!
In multi-lap swimming events, laps performed by exiting the water and running back to the entry point are called aussie exits/Australian exits.
Having internalised a lot of first triathlon advice, I kept myself to the back of the swim pack to avoid the limb washing machine, and to let the fast people get out ahead.
As it turns out, I'm not the slowest swimmer in the entire group! As I got in, I saw people in front of me starting out with breaststroke and realised I'd misjudged things a bit.
I worked my way around people, and by the first buoy, I had gotten clear of most of the pack I started in, working my way to the next one. I was confident in my sighting, having done a few open water swims longer than this one, but it turned out to be harder than I expected to see the massive buoys - mostly because the event swim caps were the same colour as them.
I noticed a few people going diagonally across my path even while I was certain I was going the right way, so at least I wasn't the only one having trouble! This also got harder the further I got from the denser groups, since I didn't have other people to judge by.
By the third buoy I was pretty tired, and had to entirely stop for a couple of seconds a few times to figure out which way I was going - the buoy we had to swim around before the exit was further out from the beach than I thought it was, and at first I mistook the exit buoy for the fourth buoy. Thankfully, I realised that faster than some folks ahead of me who went quite a bit off course before noticing.
My swim time placed me 31st of 78 (25th of 44 men). Note: all placements listed are per-leg, overall appears later.
Transition 1: The clothes/equipment change between the swim and bike parts of a triathlon.
I took my time with transition to make sure I was going to be comfortable on the cycle - I'm not setting times where this matters all that much even in a sprint triathlon, where these matter most.
I got some comfort that I wasn't getting entirely dropped by my group, since the two men who'd racked their bikes beside me were just finishing their transition as I arrived.
I rinsed my feet with fresh water, towelled them off, got my socks and running shoes on, helmet, sunglasses (arms under the helmet straps, mortifying, but I didn't want to waste time fixing that), race belt, scarfed a gummy, quick drink of water, and out of transition for a quick jog up the road to the mount line.
On the subject of putting my glasses on wrong, cycling rules broken: 8, 25 (it was in the car, and cheap), 29, 30, 31, 33, 37, 40, 41, 42 (a particularly good one to break), probably 44-46, 48, 49, 56 (I enjoyed that americano), 60, 65 (you should hear my brakes), 70, 80, 90, 91.
My T1 time placed me 57th of 78 (38th of 44), though I was expecting to make that back in T2 since I was cycling in my running shoes.
The course was rolling hills, with two main ascents, each around 110-130m. Each of those was a longer (but not steeper) climb than anything I'd done in training, and I hadn't done any targeted hill training either, so I was pretty anxious about this.
Roads weren't closed, which added a bit to the worry, but there turned out not to be many vehicles out and they were significantly more patient and reasonable while passing than your average (or, honestly, even some of the best) city drivers.
I jogged up to the mount line and immediately failed to perform the same flying mount I do basically every day on my commute, right in front of the race director! A solid start.
I got going on the (very) gentle ascent at the start, just getting warmed up, and did a mix of overtaking and being overtaken. Not too long after the start, we had spread out and people were executing more deliberate overtakes, with the initial sorting of people with wildly different paces resolved.
After the first three or so kilometres, I settled into my pace and started pushing a bit. It was a pretty pleasant ride for the most part, though on some climbs I started to regret my life choices as my bike computer ticked its way down to 11km/h and my heart rate raced its way to 180+ beats per minute.
The course was well marshalled and signposted, and locals and tourists alike were spectating from their gardens over lunch. There was one intersection at the end of a downhill where I got slightly delayed directions from a marshall, and that's the biggest complaint I could muster!
Loads of supportive and excited kids along the course, and one marshal in particular told me a very kind lie about how much climb was left as I whined to her that I hated hills as I crawled past at probably around 12km/h.
The views from the top were phenomenal when I could pay attention to them, and the descents were great fun. Didn't manage to break any speed limits, though not for lack of trying - I blame my mudguards.
As I came back into transition, I almost wished I had another lap to have a better look at the views, though I think a second pass at those climbs might've done me in.
My bike time placed me 33rd of 78 (28th of 44).
Transition 2: The clothes/equipment change between the bike and run parts of a triathlon.
Race numbers are worn on the back when cycling, and front when running. A race belt holds the number so its position can be easily changed, rather than the alternative of pinning it to your clothes.
My T2 time left me at 7th of 78 (3rd of 44), so it all worked out in the end. Just don't look at the overall transition times, which leaves me 49th of 78 (36th of 44).
Here comes my worst discipline. Thankfully, as my dad cheered from the sideline, it's saved for last when I'm at my freshest!
The course started and ended on the beach, with the first and last 700m or so run along the beach. Scarlett joined me for this bit, running in her barefoot shoes while also taking pictures and managing to make me look like I wasn't dying.
Thankfully, the beach has a fairly extended section of reasonably firm sand to run on, with only a couple of spots where I needed to hop over some water.
It then continued over a little metal bridge and up a lane, before merging back onto the same road the cycle started on (and up past the airbnb we stayed at - at this point I was desperate to go pee and was highly tempted to drop in to either the GAA club or the airbnb, but decided to hold it).
At this point, I was pretty haggard. The run was all uphill after the flat section on the beach, with people overtaking me quite regularly as I had to often drop to a walk. I definitely recognised some of them from having overtaken them earlier on the cycle, and there was no doubt in my mind they'd be finished a good while before me.
The course was an out and back, with the out being mostly uphill, except that the turn around point was on a dip on the other side, so it basically felt like I was running uphill for the first 3km, with a bit of a downhill before getting back onto the flat on the beach.
Scarlett was waiting there for me for the run back, and noted she'd been waiting quite a while and her hands were starting to hurt from clapping for all the people going past.
A lady from the Cork Triathlon Club caught up to us and we ran together for a bit before I set off at the end for a sprint finish not entirely, but at least partially, motivated by a need to get to the bathroom. As you can see in this picture, I wasn't struggling at all.
My run time placed me 66th of 78 (38th of 44).
Apologies to the man who gave me my medal. I was pretty non-verbal at that point, and I don't think my eyes even focused on him. Photo below was taken after I just sat and thought about where it all went wrong for about 5 minutes.
My time placed me 41st of 78 (34th of 44).
When setting goals for races, it's advised that you set three goals, with your most ambitious being the A goal. You're not guaranteed to hit that even in ideal conditions, and the next two account for things not going exactly to plan or bad conditions.
My B goal was sub 2 hours, two down!
My A goal was around 1:45:00, which I didn't hit - I did 1:51:42.
However!
I set my A goal based on paces and distances as follows:
| Swim | Bike | Run | |
|---|---|---|---|
| Expected Distance | 750 m | 20 km | 5 km |
| Target Time | 18:00 | 48:00 | 30:00 |
| Target Pace | 2:24 / 100 m | 25 km / h | 6 min / km |
I decided the swim/bike paces a few weeks before the event, with both roughly based on training sessions (the bike being faster than training, the swim a bit slower to account for potential currents/waves/whatever else), while the run was based on a ~32 minute parkrun where I felt like I could've gone a decent bit faster. Lack of running experience on display!
The bike times were based on my usual training routes in Dublin, which is famous for its steep hills in my area peaking at a towering 9m, vs the 286m of elevation gain I recorded on this course.
The device used to record each competitor's time in conjunction with mats on the floor that detect it passing. It's the chunky thing you can see on my right ankle in the photos above.
| Swim | Bike | Run | |
|---|---|---|---|
| Actual Distance | 900 m | 21 km | 5.19 km |
| Actual Time | 19:11 | 52:41 | 36:05 |
| Actual Pace | 2:08 / 100 m | 23.9 km / h | 6:57 min / km |
Factoring in the elevation on the bike, I consider my target pace for the bike hit, and I'm pretty happy with the paces other than the run (which, despite it all, was still my second fastest 5k at the time).
My goals next time will probably be more aggressive across the board (once I get my run training in), which is a good result!
My original plan, assuming I didn't decide I hated the experience, was to drop out of the Celtic Warrior event to free myself up to do the Olympic distance at the Dublin City Triathlon on the 23rd of August (3 weeks later).
With how hard the run was, I'm holding off on that plan and have instead started on a 10k running plan, using the cross training for swim/bike efforts. I've scaled up the cross training a bit in intensity so it's actually effective at keeping me fit for those disciplines. Note that this goes against Hal Higdon's advice for his training plan, in which he says to ensure the cross training is easy, but I'm essentially treating it as a running-heavy triathlon plan rather than a running plan.
I'll stay on for the Celtic Warrior, and depending on how much I recover over the two weeks after this triathlon to see if I could also do the Dublin City Triathlon after - whether at sprint or olympic distance.
Essentially elbow rests that go on top of the handlebars, narrowing your cross-section and making you more aerodynamic and, apparently, significantly increasing effective power.
When I first started thinking about doing a triathlon (and, in fact, even after I'd already signed up for one), I had a bunch of questions. Some personal with no external answers (can I even do this?), some more practical/logistical (how do the transitions even work?). Some were less obvious/conclusive than others, so here's the stuff I can remember and the answers I got to them.
In short: Yes.
This time last year, I hadn't cycled over 15 km in over a decade. I cycle to the office almost every day, but 2 km there and back isn't going to do much for me.
This time last year, running 2 km would give me intense knee pain for a week.
This time last year, I didn't know how to swim front crawl. In my first few attempts at it, swimming 50 m left me gasping for breath.
Looking at my Strava activities in December, I had a 4:16 / 100 m swim pace (breaststroke), ~22km / h cycling pace (on a very flat course), and a 7:41 min / km pace on my longest run at 2.2 km. Regular training improved all of those significantly in both pace and distance.
Everyone's numbers will be different, and everyone will need different levels of support (I needed a lot of physio for the knee pain in particular), but everyone can improve with time and I'd be willing to bet that yes, you can do this too.
Even if you struggle to reach the sorts of pace you need to complete certain events before their cut-off, try reaching out to them. When I asked Celtic Warrior about cut-offs ahead of signing up, they offered to let me start before other people if I was concerned I would take too long - a really considerate and flexible option.
It varies! I get the impression the layout of this one (see the picture in the T1 section) was pretty standard: racks for bikes to go on, some space beside your bike for your equipment.
In terms of what you actually do in transition, you take off your wetsuit (in my case, with my trisuit under it - but I've since learned of tri shorts which seem a solid option too) and put on your cycling/running shoes. If you're really competitive, you also skip socks at this point to save time.
It's obvious when stated, but sometimes it's worth spelling things out: you don't get naked in transition. Have a plan for T1 to not do that (trisuit, changing robe, I've even heard of changing tents in the context of longer events like ironman).
Honestly, just get there a bit early and copy what other people are doing. There's a lot of advice online on this: make your station easy to see with a brightly coloured towel, lay things out in the other you need them (e.g. bike shoes in front of running shoes, if those are different for you, helmet on the stem of your handlebars, glasses on your bike saddle, etc).
A piece of advice I've gotten since that would've been great beforehand is to also walk through transition as if you were doing T1. Run in from the entrance (or from the inside of the entrance, if leaving and reentering is difficult/disallowed) to your station, run through your equipment in the order you'll put it on, and so on. That _might_ have saved me running off with my helmet on.
The event should be providing a brightly coloured swim cap so they can clearly see people participating, for reasons of water safety.
If the water's cold, you might want to wear a thermal swim cap under the provided swim cap, as you can see in the picture for the swim section. I didn't notice anyone else doing this, but I certainly appreciated it. Conveniently, it also wrapped around my goggles and silicon cap as I took it off, which made getting my stuff off for T1 even easier.
Yes. Pool swimming and open water swimming are very different beasts, even if the underlying actions are similar.
While I'm comfortable figuring out if conditions are safe for me, I'm absolutely not qualified to suggest to you what you should be doing to prepare for this. You should be comfortable and experienced in determining if conditions are safe for you and, when practicing, don't go alone and make sure whoever you're with knows what to do if something goes wrong. Do not underestimate open water, as you can endanger both yourself and potential rescuers.
Other than safety, while practicing, make sure you're getting sighting practice in. Even with prior practice, that's surprisingly hard.
I honestly couldn't find conclusive and reliable data in either direction on the impact of these on your power. Results often seemed to be in favour of what the tester was otherwise used to using.
It's hard to argue with "all the pros use them", but it's also worth considering why you'd need them. In my case, I've never used them. I don't have issues with getting a consistent foot position, and value not being attached to my pedals (in case I need to suddenly stop or lose balance for some reason such as wind or clipping something with my handlebars - after all, this is also my commuting bike) over the potential benefits of a more specifically dialled in foot position and being sure my shoes won't slide on the pedals.
Ultimately, if you're unsure, it's probably worth trying and getting them if you want to, rather than because you feel like you should.
It certainly makes transition straightforward! A small other benefit is it feels pretty fancy. As mentioned above, tri shorts might also be a solid option.
You could probably get by without one if you have another plan on how to do T1 (e.g. a changing robe), though you'll be spending longer in transition as a result.
Probably not! I certainly didn't need a bike computer, smart watch, fancy swimming wetsuit, etc., though those did help my comfort. Can't also deny that buying lots of kit is fun, and I had to reel in my desires to buy lots of fancy stuff for my cheap bike to slowly turn it into an expensive one.
Overall: balance your budget against how much fun you're having buying things!
Wear your timing chip under your wetsuit's trouser leg, if it fits. My wetsuit got caught on my timing chip and not only slowed me down, but I also nearly fell over. Imagine!
Also, walking slowly out of the water once it's at about chest height is probably about the same speed as your swim while being less tiring and getting your legs going for the run to transition.
Let me know what you think, what I forgot, any more questions I didn't remember to add, etc. If you're here you probably know me personally but, if not, you can reach me on mastodon.