Race 6. Dinan Triathlon. May 24 2009

With some kind of sadistic irony, the clouds parted and the sun beat down in a mirror of the hell hot conditions from one year ago. Everyone stood encapsulated in their wetsuits listening to the briefing to the Dinan triathlon, centimeters from the tantalizing cool waters, yet compelled to stand in the heat through fear of the red card. The course was the same too. One big swim lap, two transition areas (one at the bottom and one at the top of the massive hill), 3 laps on the bike and then 2 staggering run laps up the hill, to finish inside the courtyard of the .. …well, I don’t know what it is, but its very pretty and very old. The swim went pretty much to plan. I swam with Max Toin, got out the water 30ish seconds behind the freak swimmer from Redon tri, and took off in chase on the bike. By 10km Max and I were in the lead and clear. I had been told the guy from Redon could run quick, so I wanted to clear out. I told Max the same thing and he agreed, so I rode strong on the front, then he did the same. And he stayed there! For the remainder of the 40km bike ride I felt my legs become more and more tired, and watched Max get smaller and smaller in the distance, until he looked a little like a small fluorescent canary on the horizon. Again, just like last year I was forced to pick up the pace and I managed to move my bike forward enough to enter transition as Max was leaving. I passed Raph (our team manager) at the bottom of the hill and he gave me the thrilling news the Nicholas Tardieu was catching me at a great speed. Great now I was tired and scared! Some of the oldies watching the race gave me some bravo cheers, and I questioned if it was because I looked as though I was about to stop and walk, they felt sorry for me, or they thought I was doing some sort of impressionist dance called ‘wounded Panda’. Either way it was around this time I had to assess the speed I was or was not running at. I would like to say I took off and was a great hero bla, bla, bla, but the real story was, as the run continued, Max slowed and I passed him at whatever speed I was creeping at. It was enough to win the race, and I rewarded myself by consuming far too many of the free yogurts, to maintain a normal posture, at the refreshment tent. Max had done enough on the bike to finish second and Nicholas Tardieu (who was not in fact closing in on the bike or run, but scared me none the less) claimed third.

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