This Sunday I had to sit trackside at the 2009 Phuket Laguna Triathlon as spectator not a competitor, to an event that boasted roughly 1000 athletes would officially start the race and attempt to conquer the a triathlon of a 1.8km swim, 55km bike and a 12km run. All shapes and sizes, the entrants represented more than 40 countries and ranged in age from 18 to over 70 years old - now how many of the Silver Fox’s actually finished? I haven’t a clue, but they were there in full force.
Check out this video and you see how mammoth this event it:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D6GJhuxkMME
The other side to being on the sideline was I did have a fantastic view positioned right in front of the water station after the swim. One after the other (and the scene really could have been in slow motion), uber fit bodies were striding past me, all with such impressive physical fitness; I really needed to pick my jaw up off the floor, or close my mouth at least.
First out of the water was Olympic Gold Triathlon Medallist, Jan Frodeno, 6 ft 5” German Adonis of perfect athletic beauty. (What do you call a German god? Gottbert m. Old German name: "God" + "shining" doesn’t really work does it). Here he is, check this out
http://www.pbase.com/colind/image/120072054
Whoof!
Then came Matthew O’halloran followed by Kevin Clark; rippled bound bodies that were clearly hard as a cats head, snatching cups of water from the hands of the volunteers, splashing it randomly all over.
http://www.pbase.com/colind/image/120072043
Then, as if I was slapped across the face by a cold fish and you heard the needle scratch all the way across the LP; in came Number T55x, with jelly donuts that wobbled so much they looked like they were flying a flag for England, Scotland and Wales. No more slow mo, just a silly girl getting the giggles.
Regardless, on the other side of my face was a massive amount of respect for Dough Boy, at least he was giving it a red hot crack and there I was with nothing to be proud of, sitting under a tree, dry with my ice cold bottle and a good aim for my mouth. Run, phat-boy, run. (“ph” = cool)
Even before 9am it had already hit 35 degrees. With the swim done and half way through a gruelling bike ride and I’m tipping these athlete’s must be starting to feel the pain right now. Exhausted, the majority dehydrated, hundreds of burning cramping muscles, some having to walk their bikes up the hill, sun cream streaming in their eyes and the inevitable on set of Turrets Syndrome begins.
“Fuck, shit, this is tough, fuck me dead this sun his so bloody hot, why the fuck didn’t they tell you about this god damn hill, I’m sweating like a fucking pig”
One man’s pleasure is another man’s pain. Did I really have athlete’s remorse?
Dave very kindly offered to do the run for me. Legend, albeit slightly sadistic with 2 days to go and he hadn’t done any training for the run. Nevertheless, he is a fit lean rocket and mean-machine on his bike. The theory being he would push out a run with out breaking his …. err, manhood. If I was catholic I would have suffered a mountain of guilt asking him to stand in for me, but I’m not of the cloth and nor was he. We agreed I had gratitude and made a promise to be there every step of the way. There was no piking on the 5am starts Glover.
Checking Dave into his bike transition stand and seeing him off when Kim finished the swim, I was confident he had his game face on and our relay team, Hands V, were looking sweet.
Jan Frodeno, the new champion run the last 100 meters, 12 minutes in front of the next competitor Mathieu O’halloran, with a baby elephant! Ha, only in Thailand! I bet those Germans wouldn’t be offering him a national animal to run the final leg with. What do you think they’d do? Herald a big fat bratwurst sausage in the air as a victory wave? I don’t even think the Aussie’s would ship in a kangaroo, actually; surely we would have Kylie prancing in her gold hot pants along beside him, glossed up a treat! ? (No, it was too early to be drunk, but this sun was getting to me….Poll anyone? Agree or disagree?)
Somewhere around 10.30am I was hanging around the finish line watching every one come in (I tried to get into the Press tent, but they wouldn’t let me in, I didn’t think they’d know who The Big Sheila was!). And you couldn’t help but notice on the other side of all of these tired faces was sheer exhilaration. Greg Russell came in with high hammers across the line with “Welcome to the jungle” blaring in the back ground;
Que the music -
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E1WUMRgbPR0&feature=fvst
Mind you, still looking like he could have run another 20 kms and smiling like a freak. It was mad, people were chanting, clapping like buggery, kids were running down home stretch with their dads; I tell you, it was a magnificent energy and such a buzz of excitement. The MC just added to the electric vibe by calling out each and every competitors name as they crossed the line - he was a yank, so hammed it up like it was a WMF super fight.
I was having a chuckle thinking about the Doctor’s (the Hands team co-ordinator) description on how people approached the challenge of actually finishing the triathlon and how it was a real sense of achievement. I couldn’t help but think about the other side of what it feels like to actually finish? One mans triathlon, is another mans conquest maybe? (I had some time on my hands).
Here’s how she put it, with my interpretation of the other side added in:
Weeks of training leading up to the big event with immense focus on the prize (…she’s hot and stop looking you found me).
Then half way through you’re thinking “why am I doing this, this is bloody hard work”, but you don’t want to give up (…she is taking too much ground work, should I go to Orchid Towers, or do I stick with it?).
Then the next minute you’re in it up to your eyeballs; finally riding the bike and you’re flying (.....do I need to explain?).
Its hot, it’s sweaty, it pleasure and pain (….come on when are you going to finish?).
Then the feeling when you actually cross the line, you can’t beat it (…high five).
Medals awarded (....you were so good baby) ,
And then some ice cold sponges and lots of water to cool you off (....honey I’m taking a shower).
You’re spent, you’re exhausted, but you did it. You’re pretty pleased with yourself, then all you want to do now is sleep.
"Footloose" is playing now; it’s feel good time.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nwBbMXYDsXw
And here comes Dave, he’s knocked off 6kms, 6 to go and looking like he’s doing it tough. His knees had gone and his trainers are feeling like they were 10kg cement blocks. However, I’m standing there feeling like someone’s hit me in the stomach. It didn’t matter that a crowd pleaser like “Footloose” was playing, because behind those Mosley Tribe aviators were a pair of eyes that couldn’t fake it. It was really affecting me. Thank god for the sun cream stinging my eyes excuse.
On the other side of those sunglasses was my mind going back some 15 years ago watching the 1994 Commonwealth Games and seeing Melinda Gainsford-Taylor and a young Cathy Freedman cleaning up all the medals. Both with times and distances that were in a thread of what my times were at The Australia Institute of Sport, aged 17. Blessed with a gift of natural talent - just no discipline. If you were watching my face that day you would have seen the corners of my mouth go from hugging my ears to a pout gone all wrong. Or as my brother Guy would have eloquently called it, “a cats ass look”.
Enter stage left my mother, god love you Gaysie. I will never forget her voice saying to me
“It’s your choice to quit, to stop training, it’s your choice. Just don’t come crying to me one day with regret or let me tell you I told you so…..”
The phone rang; and blimey, blow me down with a feather, guess how it was… yep, Gaysie…
“Now Flozzie, I don’t want to say this…..but”
“Mum, don’t’, don’t say it”
“….darling, you didn’t want to do it any way. All of that training and athlete lifestyle wasn’t for you. You’re too much of a free spirit and not one for all that regulation. You’ve done the right thing Flozzie, you chose the right path……”
Big sigh. A long silence. But god love Mum for doing her best to placate me.
The Other side of that comment is some parents would have drugged me out by my pigtails to train at 6am day after day, no questions asked. Who knows, by now I could have been be married to Dazza the Shot putter with a double-barrelled surname, in bed by 9pm every night (so I wouldn’t need botox) AND been the face of Kellogg’s Nutra-Grain (shove over Lisa Curry-Kenny!). Or I could be the host of “It’s a Knock out”. One thing is for sure; all of our medals (mine and Dazza’s) would be safely tucked away in the poolroom.
You have to check this out, Lisa Curry Kenny having an arm wrestle – such a crack up, so Aussie, Go Lisa!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pgx7sbQJEzA
Mum was convinced I would get bored - and you know what, she might not always be right, but she’s never wrong. God love her, just the other day she said laughing over the phone -
“…well sweetheart, no one can every say you haven’t lived….”
Ok, so I didn’t have the commitment to go the distance; or just maybe I got distracted with all of life’s wonderful colours. After all, there is so much to touch and feel out there.
Another lesson learnt, I didn’t like being a passenger. There was no way I was going to be sitting on the side line again, unless I chose to. Which does actually mean smarter, not harder, and maybe no “insomnia” for a while either until I learn to be responsible. And in the words of my dear old buddy and boss Andy Balmain,
“…take a cup of cement and harden the fuck up Glover".
The tune that played as Dave came in was “I get knocked down, I get up again” – how apt and what timing.
I’ll leave you with this Gloverism …
“Never put a price on experience, and never ever say what if”
Enjoy the ride!
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Fleur
The Big Sheila
*** Hey Tem, the Tribobs are coming up next March, April May… so better hatch a plan hey Bru! I'm signed up for these.
http://www.singaporesprintseries.com/
***If you’re interested in doing this next year… here’s the site
http://www.lagunaphukettriathlon.com/
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