Triathlon; it’s just like Top Trumps

This week was a bad week for my triathlon participation, as I decided not to take up my slot to race in the Byron Bay Olympic distance triathlon, 10 days before race start.

It was not an easy decision to make, but my carefree spending has finally caught up with me. Recently I have been booking myself into every race I come across and spending way too much money on Wiggle (if you need any clarification, check out my previous post).

After looking at my bank balance this month, I realised that if I was to follow through with each and every race I have planned, with all the associated travel, accommodation and beer money, I would end up with a slab of debt equivalent to the subprime mortgage crisis, so something had to give. And that something was, unfortunately, Byron.

I am particularly disappointed given that I was set to be doing it with two of my mates, Tom ‘loves gear even more than I do’ Heyes and James ‘Turfey’ Turford, neither of which I have ever raced before.

And the reason I was so keen to race them, and why I like triathlon races in general, is that they are the sporting equivalent of top trumps; everyone has their relative strengths, and everyone has a weakness.

My weakness is definitely my swim, as is the case with most triathletes I know (particularly the English ones who, in spite of the fact that we live on an Island, typically sink like a stone). My run is the strongest of the three, but by the time I normally hit the road my legs are shot to pieces from the cycle.

Tom is almost the exact opposite. While we are fairly equal on the swim, he cycles like Bradley Wiggins but runs like Boris Johnson.

Turfey is a bit more of a dark horse as I haven’t done much training with him. But through my network of informers I have come to the conclusion that while he is a pretty useful runner, his bike handling leaves a lot to be desired, on account of writing off his bike (literally cracking his frame in two) by crashing into a parked trailer, while cycling UP a hill. So awesome.

So while we might each have a fair idea of who we think is likely to win the race, there is always an element of doubt that is largely missing from any race that only involves one discipline. Rock will always beat scissors. It’s when you add paper into the mix that it gets interesting.

But however exciting the prospect of the race might be, my own personal credit crunch means that this hypothetical conundrum of who will come out on top will have to go unanswered, at least until next year.

Highlights of the week: Did my first ride with a group of lads I met the weekend before on a micro adventure with the 6 o’clock club (if you live in Sydney and fancy a few weekend adventures check them out on facebook!). The ride involved a 100km jaunt through the Royal National Park, topped off with an afternoon in the Scarborough pub replenishing lost carbs the old fashioned way.

The lads do Stanwell Tops

And this morning I had my first swim coaching session with Lisa Marangon, who doubles up as a professional triathlete in her spare time. Apparently you’re not supposed to hold your breath under water. Who knew!?

Lowlight of the week: Making the difficult, but correct, decision to give Byron a miss this time around.

Ross