Faith, trust and pixie dust ... (ITU Lantau Asian Cup)

There’s something special about a Disney movie. It makes you feel happy, safe, and strangely carefree; essentially, just like a child again. On some level, every single Disney movie reduces us all to a simple life motto of “hakuna matata.”  That’s what I love about Disney even now and why, when I was younger, I would absolutely lose myself in Disney movies and books. Disneyland really is, possibly, the “happiest place on Earth”…..and why I was not going to miss the opportunity to race at Hong Kong’s Disneyland in the ITU Lantau Asian Cup.

So maybe it was all the “Disney” in the air, but something led me to be completely void of any nerves at all prior to the race. More realistically, it was because there were no expectations on me at all. You see, I’m an athlete that likes to go quietly, to simply do my thing, and with no bravado (no matter what place I finish). The fantastic by-product of this is that no one has any real expectations for you. In Hong Kong, I felt free, liberated, and like I had absolutely nothing to lose. It was great.  

The strength of the field at the top end was a step up on the two prior Conti Cups I’d raced. This field had a 2-time Olympian headlining it, followed by a breakaway swimmer in two World Cups this year, three other girls in the top 125 on the ITU points list and another who’d just raced U23 in London. Then there was the rest of the field, pretty much all of which were far stronger swimmers than I (but what’s new?!). It was an intimidating line up for me, but still, I simply felt like I just had nothing to lose. With a 4.3km bike loop, I was half expecting to be lapped out before even having the chance to put my running shoes on. I guess that assisted in my kamikaze game plan of swimming like there was no bike leg, and riding like there was no run leg. After all, that wasn’t far from being a very real possibility.  

Thus the journey began. A pontoon start next to the Disneyland ferry terminal and strangely enough, I found I had some friends for the first 800m. Predictably though, I was then on my own; Just me and the voice of Dory from Finding Nemo, begging me to “just keep swimming.” To be honest, every kayaker I swam past, I watched for an extra second, just waiting to see if they were following me in. Of course, that would mean I was the last swimmer. I hadn’t seen them coming in so I had a glimmer of hope. I was relieved then, when upon running toward T1, I got confirmation that indeed I wasn’t actually last out of the water or even close to.

The strangest thing then happened. I grabbed my bike, and could see girls that I most certainly did NOT expect to see, just leaving transition. To be in a pack on the bike where there were a few of us working hard, was exciting. You see, not only does being a weak swimmer mean you miss the front packs, but you also tend to miss the strong riders, thus you find yourself towing everyone else in your pack along. Here though, I had my first taste of riding with decent riders. Whilst our chase pack had two lazy (or smart, depending on which way you look at it) riders, there were three of us committed to holding off those behind and driving the pack closer to the leaders. Each lap however, we watched hopelessly as the two front pairs of two merged into a hard-working, organized group of four. The distinction going into T2 was clear: A front pack of four, our chase pack of five and others well behind. Conclusion: our pack was racing for the one remaining position that would earn a pay cheque (no matter how small) - fifth.

I usually find that within one or two footsteps on the run, I know if I’ll run well or not. It’s that quick, that instantaneous. I just know. Either I feel light and bouncy and find a rhythm instantly, or it’s a slog from the very first step. And so it is the greatest relief when you feel that “tap tap tap” of your feet straight out of T2. On Saturday, I found that “tap tap tap”.…. But at the same time, niggling away at my mind was the fact that I’d been on antibiotics all week for a brilliantly timed sore throat/sinus infection/head cold combo. Would it creep up on me later in the run? Paralyze me? Stop me dead in my tracks? The answer was; it might. But luckily, it didn’t….at all. I did have a fun encounter with my close friends, the ever recurring blister brigade across my feet (but I’m sadly getting used to that now). I managed to get fifth, my second top five in as many races, but arguably, given the field, my best result to date.

And what I am most thankful for is that very oddly, very strangely - on waking with a nasty chest infection the following morning - I realized that in the last couple of weeks, the closest I have been to 100% healthy was actually in just those two hours on Saturday. It was this mystic window, almost magical, almost “Disney-like”. When I look back, had the race been on any day earlier in the week or even the next day, I’d have quite literally not been well enough to race. But I make NO excuse because on Saturday, (blisters aside), there was no sense of being unwell AT ALL.
Of course, in line with the notion of cause and effect, I am now very sadly, out of the Noosa Triathlon. I clearly used all my lucky chips of dodging illness for those two hours last weekend. To look back though at this recent little race season, my first in Conti Cups, and to see how I ended it… well, it’s good enough for me.