On the 21st of June this year the 33rd M-net triathlon in Erlangen took place. I didn’t participate in it. Last year, however, I did. Coincidentally, the time between now and then was also the time I needed to process everything that happened. Now, I finally feel ready to talk about (okay, write about) how I perceived the experience.
How I got myself into this
In the summer of 2022, a friend convinced me and a mutual friend to participate in a triathlon. Well, I say convinced, but actually it went more like: “Let’s run a triathlon together.” Then our mutual friend agreed, peer pressuring me to agree as well. And thus, my course was set with no going back whatsoever (I could have changed my mind anytime) and full commitment to the task in terms of motivation (I hate 33.3…% of the sports required in a triathlon). At first all of us were quite relaxed – after all, we still had a year’s worth of time to prepare ourselves and get into shape. Still, we agreed that it was best to meet up once a week and run a distance that was roughly the one which would be required in the triathlon.
Preparation is key
I’m not going to lie, I had quite a lot of fun. Don’t get me wrong, the running was the worst. But meeting people regularly in a time when COVID was still very recent memory and regulations were still partially in effect was great. It gave us an excuse to meet up and stay in touch even though we all studied different subjects and only rarely ran into each other on campus. Additionally, in the brief breaks we took during our runs we had really fun conversations and I’d say we all grew a bit closer. Speaking (okay, writing) of closer: That’s what the triathlon was getting, and we only had a third of the sports covered by our training routine. The triathlon we signed up for was a “short” one, which entails a 1.5 km swim, a 40 km bicycle-circuit and a 10 km run to top it all off. Only training for one of those disciplines is, as one can imagine, problematic to say the least. So we started adding the other two sports (biking and swimming) into our schedules.
After a while other people we knew from our studies got wind of our training sessions, so they swiftly joined in. None of them was actually motivated to push themselves as we did (quite understandably so) but they were a welcome addition to our troupe nevertheless because the more the merrier.
A couple of months before the triathlon was to take place we had our training routine up and running (pun intended). Alas, routines are made to be broken, so something was bound to happen eventually. It was around that time when one of my friends opted out because she had too many things going on. (Which was quite understandable and undoubtably the right thing to do, as these things were university related.) Regardless, she still went jogging with us occasionally and was happy to be on the sidelines cheering the two of us on. We needed that.
The moment I prepared for
Months passed and then suddenly, without even the faintest of warnings, the dreaded day had arrived and the triathlon was to take place. This is a good point to mention that I was nowhere close to being ready for a triathlon. Oops. Also, I didn’t have the best of luck, as life, the universe and possibly tire manufacturers conspired against me. Let me explain: A day before the start signal sounded, I was preparing my bike. Checking the tires, filling them with air, making sure my drink-holder was in place and so on. Then I went to take care of some everyday things that needed doing, just to return to a pair of flattened tires. Both of them had leaks (not good) and soon I realized that both needed replacing. No problem on any other day, but on that particular one, shops had already closed so there was no chance of getting replacements. Naturally I panicked. In an attempt to resolve the situation I made a few calls, asking people I knew for help. My cousin offered me his bike: a real racing bike, low-weight with those funny-shaped handles and all the extras. I gladly accepted, tried out the bike and realized I couldn’t hold anything that even resembled balance for more than 3 seconds. My only other option now was my flatmate’s bicycle: a comfortable city bike. Not the kind anyone would recommend for long tours, but hey, better than nothing. This was now my ride for the big event.
Not only that, but it was also my ride to the big event. I got up at an hour not intended for humankind, got ready and rode to the site for check-in. (Yes, they have check-ins at sporting events). After a while of being there I began to suspect that perhaps something wasn’t quite right. I couldn’t tell what it was off the top of my head… until I noticed that in fact I could. I had forgotten my helmet. No problem, one might say, it’s just a personal risk one takes – but one is wrong. Helmet mandatory for participation. The rules on this were clear. So back and forth I went. I finally returned, quest completed, only to be in a hurry to change into swimwear and get into starting position. I jumped into the water and was immediately greeted by a not-so-alive-looking fish into which I very nearly bumped while getting into the water. The water was extremely cold. However, there was no time to think of that because the metaphorical light went green (metaphorical because there was no light, only the sound of a shrill horn telling us to get going). It was go time. So, I swam (big surprise, I know) until the end of the circuit. In-between the dips my head made into the water I could hear the cheers of the onlookers. They weren’t directed at anyone in particular, but rather at everyone who was in the waters. Around me (and then very quickly in front of me because I’m not the fastest swimmer) everyone was making splashes and waves of their own. To be honest, it was a bit claustrophobic, and people were bumping into me even though I was (in my opinion, at least) swimming at a constant pace in a predictable trajectory. Shutting the discomfort of not having any personal space out of my mind, I continued for what at least felt like a really long time until I was pulled out of the water. (They actually pull you out so you don’t have to get out all by yourself). Long story short, I unintentionally beat my best time for the distance because I put myself under constant pressure to not be the very last person in the water. (I don’t know why that was even an issue as I didn’t care which place I was in, but it was an issue nevertheless). The personal record came at a price though: After leaving the water and going into the changing area, my head started feeling dizzy. That isn’t the best feeling in the world when you still have a total of 50 kilometers to cycle and run.
After a really short break (and I mean really short, given the circumstances) I hopped onto my (flatmate’s) bike and was off into the next stretch of the triathlon. This was the part I hated the most – especially anytime I had to go uphill. But despite my conditionless hate for the sport, I soon realized that there was something that might make it worthwhile. This is where the crowd and the onlookers, and indeed the other athletes, (they count as athletes, because all of them looked extremely well trained, some of them I overheard talking about how this was their 501492nd triathlon that week) were way more supportive than I ever could have imagined. People I had never met in my entire life cheered at me. (Yes, I’m sure that they cheered for me because there were parts where I was more or less alone and everyone else was much farther ahead). Athletes who overtook me did so while saying things like: “You’ve got this!”, “Don’t give up!” and “Just a bit more, you can do this!” Some of them even addressed me by name, which was confusing until I remembered that I had a number and my name taped to the back of my shirt. Still, all of that encouragement gave me the energy I needed to move on.
Where things started to go wrong
Sadly, that energy only lasted right up to the moment where everything was far outweighed by me being tired and miserable and just not having anything left in me. I decided that a small break was long overdue. I stopped at the side of the country road and sat down, watching the athletes who had started at a later time ride past me one by one. It was here that an elderly gentleman happened to take a walk down the very road I was resting next to. He saw me, asked if I was alright. “Yeah,” I lied, “just taking a short break.” A bit of small talk followed, and he went his way. The conversation was what I needed to catch my breath and take my mind off of how awful everything was. After I felt I had regained a bit of strength I continued the perilous journey towards the finish line, trying not to think about the run that was to follow the biking. On and on I went until I finally was faced with this dilemma: Go on and fall over or stop and give up. I passed one of the medics stationed in semi-regular intervals and stopped next to him, told him I might need just a bit of attention because I felt like I was going to fall over and sat down. He gave me a sports drink, an energy bar and some sort of nutrition goo for athletes (tastes better than you’d expect). We talked for a bit and I thanked him for being on call as a volunteer. (They are the real heroes of any given event, you should just thank them whenever you see them at conventions or concerts or whatever it may be, just because). I rested for quite a while. Finally I got up, got back on my bike, finished the circuit, went to one of the triathlon officials, told him I’m quitting and went home. It was only at the end (a few minutes after quitting) when I found out that my flatmate’s bike had a light, which was powered by a dynamo that cannot be turned off, effectively making pedaling way more difficult and robbing every last bit of momentum I had gained by going downhill. I now hate that bike. I’m glad I’ll never use it again. Ever. Because it’s a stupid bike. I hope I’ve made that point by now. To make things worse and my hate for that insufferable stupid bike even greater (if that’s even possible at this point…): One year after the triathlon I learned that it is in fact possible to shut off the damned thing. Because it has a hidden switch. To which I only can ask: WHY would anyone add a hidden switch to a light? What possible gain could they have hoped to have? I suppose no one will ever know the answers to these questions.
So in addition to thinking the bike is the stupidest thing since stupidity was invented, [bike manufacturer who shall remain nameless for legal reasons] now holds a very special place on my list of things that I utterly despise.
Back to immediately after the triathlon: I later met up with my friend who had completed the triathlon. She was in way better shape than me, but I could see she was exhausted from the entire thing. We and a couple of friends who cheered us on went to eat dinner, which was especially tasty because sport is exhausting and we had done a lot of it. That didn’t stop my muscles from deciding to be sore for the next week or so. But all in all, if there is any regret to be had from running this triathlon, I still have to find it.
Here’s what I learned so you don’t have to
- You, in fact, don’t have to be a sports-maniac or an athlete to participate in and complete a triathlon. You do, however, need to prepare accordingly because it isn’t a walk in the park either – even though the last bit of the run is in a park, and you can technically walk that bit.
- When your body tells you that you’re done for the day, then you are done. Don’t fight it, it’s not healthy – or worth it, for that matter. Quitting isn’t something to be ashamed of and anyone who says differently is an idiot or a jerk or possibly both.
- The people who take part in a triathlon are, from my experience, not toxic at all, but actually very supportive. (However, it is probably good to keep in mind that some of them are trying to achieve the best possible times and will sometimes ignore common sense in terms of looking out for the safety of others). The crowd is great as well and cheers you on regardless of if they know you or not. Everyone kind of is on your side here.
- It’s more fun with friends. I wouldn’t have done it without them and surely wouldn’t have gotten as far as I have without training with them.
- Make sure your bike is in order. I can’t stress this enough. And don’t buy bikes from [bike manufacturer who shall remain nameless for legal reasons].
If anyone asks if I’d do it again, I’d have to quote Nicolas Cage and say: “Hell yes!” But next time, I’d be better prepared, having learned from the first time. Also, it will be a while until I’m ready to run another triathlon… I still feel like being a bit lazy in the near future.
Autor: Max Keim
