“Guys, this is an open water triathlon swim, we’re not sending you out to war…”
I wasn’t the only one who stopped hyperventilating for a giggle when the race marshall said that. It was 12:59pm and the Novice distance Diamond Tri competitors were in the water. Some holding onto the pontoon (me), some swearing at the reeds/’terrifying swamp demons’ that snaked around their water-treading legs (me), some calmly bobbing around laughing with friends (not me, I was too busy holding on for dear life).
Race day came round all too quickly for me this time. Having only started training for this nine weeks ago, not followed a set training plan and *still* not being able to swim the full 400m required distance in one go, my nerves were on another level on the drive up to Eton Dorney from Brighton.
Plan of attack
Those who follow me on Twitter and Instagram will have seen me at various panic-stations throughout last week, flailing about whether Vaseline or baby oil will do for under my wet suit (baby oil worked fine), whether I’d be able to see in the water (sort of), whether there’d be buoys and ‘lanes’ clearly marked out in the lake (yes). Whether I’d actually …