Having been cut down in the prime of my soccer career with a bad hamstring injury at the age of 62, I turned to cycling and on to triathlon.
COVID-19 saw my wife, Emily, and me taking to our old hybrid bikes and we began to enjoy spins together along the Clontarf to Howth seafront. I felt guilty at reclaiming my old bike from my brother to whom I had lent it, but when he bought himself a beautiful Bianchi (Celeste in colour, of course), he prompted us to try road bikes. Two purchases later and we were hooked!! They’re so light. The gears are so slick and easy. Bloody hell, a holiday that would normally comprise architectural and cultural sightseeing accompanied by copious glasses of vini rossi, turned into a cycle from Munich to Venice! What the hell was happening?
The next step on the slippery slope to addiction came sportivos and the joy and sociability of cycling with family and friends and the sun and the sea and all the wondrousness of the West of Ireland at Ride Dingle and the Cliffs of Moher sportivos (OK, there were some days of cold rain and nasty wind but still, you get the drift…).
Then I realised the challenge of climbing or ‘the thrill of the hill’, those gruelling, heart-straining, muscle groaning minutes ticking so slowly by that they were nearly stationary… just like my hill-climbing. But the sense of achievement and then… the whooshing, heart-grinning-with-joy, letting go, embracing of the risks accompanying the beauty of the mountainside scenery, always on the edge of control, feeling air parting for you as you embraced life fully….
Maybe 30 years ago, I was visiting my brother Ronan in Brighton and saw him doing a triathlon and was well impressed and found myself a little envious. It was always there in the back of my mind, how lovely that balance of swim, bike and run seemed and that it could be both a challenge and enjoyable to do.
But working full-time and travelling for work meant that psychologically I did not feel able to commit to the training required for a triathlon and so I procrastinated and put it off until so-called ‘retirement’. The only thing I could hold on to at the shock of retirement was the availability of time to exercise as much as I wanted and I got into a habit of daily workouts, either on the bike if the weather was nice or in the gym, mainly weights or indoor spin HIIT classes if it was bad. But in the back of my head was the insistent pull of the triathlon. So, I started swimming in the pool, running on the treadmill, then running outside and slowly doing a wee bit more, a wee bit more.
Wanting to get proper technique, I joined the Piranha Triathlon Club in Dublin, but realised after a while that the classes were set up (as they should be) for people who are working, and given that Emily was still working, those times did not suit our life together. I only managed one Wednesday evening spin up Howth Hill (most enjoyable) and a run near Irishtown Stadium which I really also enjoyed and found motivating. But the Piranha people were lovely, welcoming and full of tips and they motivated me, even if mostly online! Such is the modern world!
Like almost all beginner triathletes (“new to Tri”), I dreaded the swim primarily, and to a lesser extent, the run. But I talked to myself: “I’ve done 1,000m in the pool non-stop and I’ve run 18km in one go, and I’ve done the Wicklow 200 cycle (3,250m of climbing), so surely I can do a triathlon”, and I decided to take the plunge and sign up for a Sprint and an Olympic in the summer of 2025.
I decided on the Dunmore East “Hook or By Crook” sprint triathlon as my first for a couple of reasons. My Mum and Dad retired to Tramore and had really happy lives there for over 25 years. It was our last family homeplace. My sister lives in Waterford and goes to Dunmore every morning with a group of retired women for a dip. I never liked the idea of swimming in freshwater, remembering the joys of swimming in the sea as a child. So, Dunmore pulled me for sentimental reasons as well as for its sheltered harbour and Norman thatched-cottage charm.
The only real problem then was that I had not been in the sea in Ireland for a mere 27 years! Having returned from working in South East Asia for six years back in 1998, I went for a swim with my sister and nieces somewhere near Tramore (Kilfarrasy, I think it was) and ran out with the shock of the cold water! So, the idea of the swim in cold and open water was beginning to terrify me. The triathlon was due for June 7th so I had to force myself into the sea soon. I went to the Bull Wall in Dublin on May 9th and went in in my €50 Dunnes Stores wetsuit. The cold was not as bad as I had expected but I was shocked because I suddenly found that I could not swim in the open water. I did some breaststroke but could not do front crawl at all; my breathing went completely! I went home depressed and thought that there was no way I would make it to Dunmore. YouTube saved me (thanks Global Triathlon Network and others) and I came to realise that cold water shock did this to most people. I calmed down. I went back a week later, took my time, submerged my head three times before I started to swim and managed to do a hundred or two hundred metres of front crawl. It was a relief but I realised just how different it was from the pool. At this point, the Piranhas began to organise open water swims and I joined a group of five or six back at the Bull Wall and did a couple of motivating swims with them… and that was hugely helpful.
But my worry for Dunmore related to waves and choppy water and the frantic nature of a mass start with flailing limbs and people on top of each other and being completely out of control.
The other major fear for anyone with any pride is the fear of being last! But I actually had a good talk with myself and reasoned that I was better to be last than not to do it at all and I came to terms with that and it helped. So what? Admittedly, age was a convenient excuse in the background! I also decided not to buy or wear the Piranha gear for fear of bringing shame to the club!
The race briefing sent out by the Race Director, Martin Kirwan on behalf of Waterford Triathlon Club, was extremely helpful and reduced anxieties considerably. My wife, Emily, and I stayed in Tramore on Friday night and I could scoot over to Dunmore to register and to get a look at the bay, the Golf Club, the transition area and the cycling route back in towards Waterford. The lovely people at Registration were very encouraging, actually very humorous, and I began to get into the spirit of it.
On the day, the perfect instructions brought us to the parking spot above the Golf Club and Emily and I could get down to the Transition Area for me to be able set myself up. I had never done or practised transitions before but had studied the many YouTube videos with tips so I knew what to expect. I lined up my cycling gear in front of my running gear. The staff at the Transition Area were very helpful and friendly and explained things, entries and exits, the helmet-bike order and the like. The triathlete beside me at the bike rack showed me how to put the timing anklet on and explained to put it on the left ankle so that it would not hit the bike drive-chain area. People are so helpful!
So, into the wetsuit and down to the Strand Inn feeling decidedly nervous about the swim. As we sat there waiting, we saw a flotilla of about 18 kayakers coming across from the harbour and getting into position around the swim route and I found myself getting emotional at this voluntary support and how reassuring it was. How wonderful. I can’t thank the kayakers enough for this reassurance and help.
The time came (it sounds like an execution or maybe it just felt like that!) and down the slip I went to Lawlor’s Strand to join the group of upright seals in their black slippery wetsuits. I was not the only one hanging out the back feeling nervous and there grew a wee murmur of us sharing various anxieties. But the brilliant organising of letting people off in fours was hugely motivating and reassuring and then I realised that I should not start at the very back and I shuffled up about three lines.
And then we were waved off and in I went looking like some kind of giraffe high-stepping the gentle waves to get as far in as possible before plunging down. Did five strokes of breaststroke to adjust to the cold and then started the freestyle. I would say that I was about 50 or 60 strokes in to the front crawl when I realised that not only was I feeling comfortable but that I was (shock!) actually enjoying it! Sure, I was zig-zagging and all over the shop but I was moving along nicely and after rounding the first buoy and found myself passing someone, I was ecstatic! I was not going to be last out of the water, yahoo! That made me feel better. Zig-zagged along, the kayakers helping to keep me from washing up on the rocks, and eventually I made it to Councillor’s Strand, where again, two very helpful marshals guided us over the timing mat. I was a wee bit dizzy coming out of the water and stupidly tripped up on a step up to the winding path up to Transition, covering my wetsuit with sand. But no worries. Transition went smoothly for my first one ever (I thought… but noticed how slow my 5 minutes was compared to others) and off I went on my bike.
I love the bike and hills and challenges but I realised as we came up out from the strand area and on to the Waterford road, that I hadn’t a clue how fast to go!! I had no pacing strategy. I was behind a guy and was aware of the ‘no drafting rule’ and so hung back a little. Then I thought, no, this is meant to be a Sprint so surely I have to go for it in some way and so I got out of the saddle and sprinted around a few people and then went as hard as I could up the hill, recovering a bit after the top but then kept hitting the same dilemma as to pacing. On the downhill, I was just behind a guy as old as I and he was going fast but I decided to just go for it and sprinted past him but could feel him chasing me… or so I thought. In the end I kept pushing and passed around 20 people on the cycle, trying to get into the Pharoah position on the flats (I don’t have tri-bars) and doing some form of sprints past people and up short hills. I only realised later that this what you are NOT meant to do! I also realised only later, when I looked at my metrics, that I had not got out of Zone 2 Heart Rate, so I must have got my pacing all wrong! The marshals were great, not only directing us and keeping us on the right road, but also encouraging with words of motivation and claps.
And then finding that wonderful downhill rush to Dunmore, really going for it, feeling sorry for the woman I caught up with because a grey car at the roundabout was in her way and she had to brake and break her rhythm and I passed her heading down to the beach area, commiserating with her bad luck (while admiring her streamlined TT bike!). Well forewarned by the race instructions, I got myself into the small ring, dropped a few gears and really enjoyed that final short climb up to Transition.
And then there was the run.
Hmmmmm… who is the sadist who decided that starting up that steep hill was a good idea? I presume he or she is now in jail or Coventry!
Maybe it was just as well that I never practiced a BRICK session, because no BRICK session could have prepared one for that hill! I jogged up it, saw a couple of people walking it and was tempted, but my pride kept me going and then I was at the top. I had asked a marshal earlier if the run up at the Golf Course was flat and she, almost apologetically, said, ‘well, not really, it’s a bit up and down’ so I was a bit prepared for that. Anyway, the sight of plenty of water was reassuring also and the course was very clearly marked and it was a matter of just getting on with it (why is Roy Keane coming into my head… that bloody ad.!). Completely unused to running any hills (the downside of the lovely North Dublin seafront), I lengthened my stride downhill and just went metronomic uphill and it was fine. Again, the marshals were most encouraging and it was great to be able to take water after the first lap and get the bottle in the bin (successfully responsible!). My legs started feeling a wee bit tired coming up the hill the last time but then it was lovely to hear “only 300m to the finish” from one of the marshals, the pleasing sight and feel of grass and the lovely people-lined tunnel to the Finish Line, where I was cheered on by Emily and my sister Deirdre.
What a lovely sense of achievement! I realised at the end that I had really enjoyed it and I got a rush: some dopamine hit from the triathlon itself, Emily and Dee being there to share it with, the cliffs, the green sward stretching out over the blue sea, the camaraderie of the triathletes, the support, friendliness and motivation of all the marshals and organisers.
And then to top it all, as if it could not get any better, was the free ’99, that delicious ice-cream cone with the chocolate Flake! As if serious, competitive triathletes could eat such a thing! I wondered if it was not some trick like young people going for interview and being brought out to see if they will get drunk and how they will behave!
Huge thanks to the Waterford Triathlon Club and all the volunteers for the excellent organisation and attention to safety and detail to make it a most enjoyable event.
So there was I thinking that when the race finished, that would be the end of that one… but no, then you get sucked into analysing your performance, and depending how analytical you are, that is a likely rabbit-hole! My worry about being last was well demolished, coming 137th out of 215 and 8th out of 15 in my age group (and damn, their age groups were done by 10 years, not by five years). I could not believe that I was 88th on the run (3rd in my age group) but could well believe that I was 180th after the swim. The transitions were very costly also but given that I had never done one before, I was not surprised by that.
I can see where this is going… where can I pick up time? Where do I need to focus my training? Should I buy a proper swimming wetsuit and tri-bars for my bike? Ooh, is this the excuse to upgrade my lovely, comfortable but clunky and slightly heavy Trek Domane to something lighter, more rigid and racier? Can I now wear the Piranha club gear with some authenticity?
People warn you about the perils of alcohol and drugs and the slippery road to addiction… but, jesus, they never include triathlon to this list. They should. It begins to dominate your waking thoughts and threatens to drain your bank account (the Piranha Marketplace site is great, by the way). Of course, you hide it but you know you are on the slippery slope to becoming a social pariah or a tri-bore! Please send HELP now… or referral to some treatment course!
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