Half ironman
The day before my first 70.3 Ironman, on Saturday the 29th June 2024, I travelled up to Bolton, met my friend Yingji, put all my gear in the transition areas, and then had a huuuuge dinner (must’ve been a few thousand calories). We went to bed early and soon enough it was time for the big day.
After an early wake up, we headed to Pennington Flash for the start, staring at the freezing water in anticipation. I’m not a great swimmer so I was starting to get very nervous, even more so when it started raining.
I lined up near the back of the swimmers, thinking that I would be one of the slowest and that being at the back would give me some more space to swim hopefully without getting whacked in the face.
The start was pretty special and brought a few tears to my eyes. Listening to the hall of fame (official song of ironman) and the national anthem was pretty cool but it was the words of the presenter that hit pretty hard, especially when he said that the goal is the start line not the finish. I really agree — it's the dedication in training and sacrifices made along the way that is the hard part, not the race or the finish itself. Same applies for building a startup — it's more about the journey than the final product (and there's no such thing as a final product because it can always be improved/there’s always more to do).
A huge roar and suddenly the first people were in the water, slowly forcing us closer and closer to the water. 25 minutes later or so and we heard applause as the first athletes emerged from the water. For a moment I wished I could just fast forward and skip the swim, which I thought was going to be the biggest challenge for me this race. Another 30 minutes and it was finally my turn to head into the water. Yingji and I hugged each other, wishing each other luck and saying, “cya on the other side”. A final nod from a volunteer and I was off, plunging into the cold murky water.
I had done a lot of visualisation about the race beforehand and knew that the swim would be a real challenge for me. But I didn’t quite anticipate how challenging it would be when you’re body is freezing (even in a wetsuit), people are bumping into you, and you’re inhaling gulps of lake water. A few minutes in I swam towards a kayak and genuinely wondered how I would ever be able to finish this swim. Grabbing onto the kayak, the volunteer asked for my name and told me to take deep breaths and take as long as I needed. I closed my eyes, took a few deep breaths, thanked the amazing volunteer and started swimming again, knowing that I had a cut off time to beat if I wanted to finish this race. A few minutes later, my nerves began to calm and I started to get into flow, softly taking one stroke after another. And soon enough, I found my rhythm and for the first time ever when swimming, I started to enjoy it, and wasn’t just wondering when it would end.
Even though I bumped into a few people and briefly lost my flow, I rapidly got back into it because I was just enjoying it, even more so when I passed the halfway marker and checked my watch to see that I was going slightly faster than I expected!
After 50 minutes I started to approach the end of the swim. I saw the volunteer on the kayak I had stopped at earlier and yelled a thank you — he smiled and said, “you got this!” Around 55 minutes after diving into the water, I reached the end of the swim and the volunteers pulled me out of the water. After almost falling over due to being slightly dizzy, I started running towards the transition area. While simultaneously running and removing my wetsuit, I was just laughing because of how happy I was that I had conquered the swim. I thought to myself that now everything else would be easy. Conquering your biggest mountains makes the smaller peaks seem much easier. But never underestimate the small peaks…
I devoured two gels, popped on my helmet and bike shoes, and ran my bike towards the bike start line. Then I was off, riding through the spectacular British countryside. The first two laps were nice and easy — then I continued onto the second section (which was also two laps). This section had a brutal climb at one point, which is where I realised I was actually decent at climbing. While most people were groaning in agony, I was kinda just grinning and trying to enjoy it as much as I could. When I reached the top I let out a sigh and started flying down the hill. When you’re going so fast you start to feel at one with the bike, especially as you stop pedalling and just shift your weight to steer as you soar down the hill.
After two hours on the bike my back started feeling painful so I tried sitting up instead of being low on the drop bars. Thankfully it never got too bad and I was expecting worse so it was fine to deal with. I stopped once for a bathroom break and to grab some gels and two new bottles of electrolyte water. I’d never really done a bike race before and hadn’t done it in training, so I learnt how to tear gels with my teeth and consume them while riding (turns out it’s pretty easy). To change your bottles, instead of having to stop, you toss your old bottles on the side of the road and grab new ones from the volunteers’ outstretched arms, which was also fun.
After enjoying and finishing the bike, it was time for my favourite part — the run… And it was just incredible. It was a spectacular course and I was just savouring every minute. I had planned to go at 6 minute km pace but I was feeling so good that I changed it to 5.30, conscious that I had to listen to my body carefully to make sure that I wasn’t going off too hard. When I did half marathons in the past, there were a few where I felt absolutely exhausted at the finish, but there were also some where I finished and just did not feel tired, mainly due to pacing. Pacing is so crucial, not just in sports but also in life — sometimes you have to sprint but ultimately you can’t sustainably run on fumes.
At some point there were some people I didn’t know who saw imperial on my tri suit and started cheering which was fun. The support throughout the course was absolutely incredible, with people holding signs like “smile”, “go dad” and “enjoy the pain”. I was enjoying the run to the point where, unlike the duathlon I did in October and much of my training, I wasn’t begging for it to be over.
Just under 6.5 hours after starting, I was running down the red carpet towards the finish line.
I briefly closed my eyes. I thought about the journey. The training. The early mornings. The days where I went to bed utterly exhausted. The times I pushed myself to my physical and mental limits. The moments I pushed myself to the point where I vowed I was done with triathlon. The battles I had with my fears.
Then I crossed the line. I was smiling like crazy. I was just so happy.
That whole day was one of the best experiences of my life. Maybe even the best of my life so far. But it’s just the beginning…
Triathlon is not about the finish line.
It’s not even about the training.
Triathlon is about the person you become.