Ingerreke MTB Enduro 2012 - Day 1

Well I'd like to say day 1 of 2012 passed without incident, but if that were the case then I'd hardly earn the title of "Messy".

However, unlike the previous year, I arrived at the start line with no major mechanical issues and a full hydration pack. My traveling partner Juliet even appeared to have a seat post that remained at one height.

With swapping of stages from the previous year I was grateful that this morning I could ease my way into the race with a 39km stage, then the b#stards go and add another 1.5km single track at the end, just what I needed.

Nevertheless I was comforted by the words of the race director that the police escort through town had been asked not to break all the speed limits this year in his lead out. I'm not sure he took much notice. He may have decided to on occasions, as it was a stop start affair through the centre of Alice until the turn off onto fire trail and the race was on.

As the fast guys headed off I settled into a steady rhythm, the words of Juliet from 2011 ringing in my ears "pace yourself". This I did with Juliet disappearing into the distance, and myself continuing on at a brisk (for me) but comfortable pace.

All was going well until about the 20km mark at which point I realised a full Camelbak bladder and jersey full of gels is only good if you can manage to take your hands off to drink and eat. That tight feeling in my quads was to progress to full blown cramp in another 10km or so.

As I progressed through the water station I had a feeling I have never had before in a race, I passed some of the fast guys. Billy Sewell (4th in last years event) eat my dust, oh and good luck fixing your 4th flat; it would only be a matter of time before he passed me again.

I also managed to pass Juliet, later I was to learn that her bulging quads were to prove too much for a meager gear cable, as it snapped under her sheer power (which she would later prove on the Anzac Hill sprint) and was forced to single speed a majority of the morning.

With about 5km to go the familiar feeling of bones on ground was to greet me. I believe in an attempt to navigate my 25th switchback in a row, the lack of forward momentum sent me sprawling. No major damage done, just cramp now setting in with 5km to go. In fact there isn't even any blood and I'm not sure anyone witnessed that, maybe I'll get away with it.

Well quite possibly I could have, but gumby fall number two, when a hole appeared from nowhere 500m from the finish line, wasn't quite so forgiving. A few cuts, scratches and bruises had me feeling more at home.

Thankfully across the line in about 2:11, a significant improvement on last year and no broken bones. Juliet followed a matter of seconds later, now aware of the dangers of single speeding, but still in second place in her category.

After a dip in the ice bath (also known as the pool) it was back into riding kit and up Anzac Hill. Again I demonstrated wisdom beyond my mtb'ing years, and as opposed to 2011 decided that maybe the big ring wasn't the way to go. Whilst a few seconds slower, it was pleasant being able to breathe at the end. As I reached the top I spotted a comfy couch, unfortunately this was the hot seat, reserved for fastest male and female, and there was Juliet snuggly seated. Whilst she didn't hold that position for the whole evening she did claim back to back titles in the veteran's category, and in doing so putting her traveling partner to shame, guess that single speeding has got something going for it.

Now rest and recovery, before we take it all on again, and trust me, my memories of this stage from last year, are not good.

Wildside - January 2012

It's a grimace not a smile

Well I have already completed one endurance MTB event (Alice Springs) so surely the second will be much easier. Besides the event program reads "Anybody with a reasonable fitness base and level of MTB skills should be able to complete Wildside". In future I will be checking the definitions section of the event program for explanations of terms such as "reasonable". Clearly the event managers and I differ from this perspective.

Day 0 - Travel and a sense of optimism.

9am and off we head. Bound for Cradle Mountain. Feeling much better than my departure for Alice Springs, as I have developed "some" mountain bike skills, have a few more miles in the legs and feel a bit more prepared. Juliet has done the shopping, booked accommodation and offered to drive, so I guess that means I'm better prepared.

As we leave Sheffield with Cradle Mountain in sight there is one thing that stands out, this terrain is very hilly. But it is a pleasant 23 degrees and a buzz of excitement exists as we arrive register and get settled in. A quick spin around Cradle Mountain village and the bike is working and so are the legs.

So we will head down to the briefing, back for dinner a good nights sleep and away we'll go. Good plan.

Head down to the briefing to realise I am surround by 500 fit freaks. As the briefing begins I take up a patch of solitude on the grass, lay back and my head and stomach commence doing a dance of their own. I can't quite recall a word of the briefing, however I do remember the 500 metre walk back to my cabin - it involved 3 side trips to the bushes to feed the wildlife.

A few glasses of water and the stomach settles enough for dinner. A magnficent feed of Lasagne compliments of Nick and Jenny and some colour starts to return. Now a good nights sleep and will be right to go.

If 3 hours sleep constitutes a good night's sleep then I guess I did have a good night's sleep. Those butterflies will go eventually.

Day 1 - Seeding Day

Ok so it wasn't a great night - but a decent breakfast and things will look up surely.

Hmmm - problem with plan A - if you rely on someone else to provide food it is not helpful if they are on one side of the village and you are on the other, particularly if they have all the food. Change of breakfast plans down to the local kiosk for a coffee, fruit bun and banana and that will get me through to lunch.

Arrive at the start for stage 1. The groupings are out and I'm in group L. Suspect this pits me in about riders number 390 - 420 of the 480 odd starters. I think I have been overseeded. The weather is heating up and people are clambering for shade, and it is 10 am.

The ride gets underway with a downhill run on the grass, the words don't go too hard too early are ringing in my ears. Having settled in nicely about 10th in the group I am much wiser from my past experiences. Follow the bike in front, get around safely and enjoy the week. Good plan until I drop the chain, here we go again. A minute of panic and back underway. Obvioulsy if you lose a minute you need to make it back up in the next 15, rather than over the course of the next 10 hours, hence may be I need to push a little harder; after all I should be able to maintain a heart rate of 190 for the next 50 minutes anyway.

Leg 1 done and dusted in a time around 1 hour and 2 minutes. Average heart rate at 98% of max, lucky I didn't take it out too hard but thankfully now just a cruise through to lunch and the start of the next leg.

For christs sake why do we have to cruise on bloody mountains. Fourteen kilometrew of up and down hills;  just get me to lunch for some shade and food.

The less said about the afternoon the better. It all went down hill when I observed the revised start lists. Have moved up from group L to I, am now seriously overseeded but thankfully I have all week to get me back to my end of the field.

Stage 2 is 20 km; I knew I had about 17 km of riding in me. All was going well and actually sitting in the top 1/3rd of the group until the dreaded hiss of leaking air and spewing stan's fluid greets me going around the tailings dam. A few minutes to stop and wait for stan's to do it's work provides a bit of relief for my legs, but not a lot for the heart or head. Start to add a bit more air but can't be bothered using a cannister (as it tuns out 8psi is not a great level to run your rear tyre at). Back on the bike and away. Pass the 15km mark and surely that 5km to go mark must be hear somewehere, it will be soon, soon, please soon. If only these cramps would dissappear soon. The last 5km wasn't a pretty place, a few cramps an occassional walk, a bit of heat but limp across the line in 1hour 30 odd, not great but surely day 1 will be the hardest. Oh and it appears leg 2 was 22km not 20km.

Cruise into Tullah (thankfully all down hill) back to clean up and look forward to day 2.

With day one out of the way and my stomach a little more settled how can I refuse the hpsopitaly of Nick and Jenny's steak and red wine (dietary mistake number 2 - alcohol won't neccessarily assist to fight off fatigue and address cramping issues).

Day 2 - The day I discovered hell on earth.

Well I managed get in the mandatory 3 hours sleep again, and had the fruit bun and banana for breakfast. Officially have no energy and the thought of another gel leads to further emptying of the stomach.

The relaisation that we had 38km of cometitive riding as compared to 52km today has me in absolute dread. That and the knowledge of 35 degree temperatures. Greeted at the start line with the news that I had won a spot prize last night but not stayed around to collect, probably sums up my week.

First leg "Sterling Valley" is only 14 km - excellent. The first 7km is however uphill and the last 7km is downhill with highest technical difficulty - not so excellent.

Having headed out at the front of the group yesterday I settle at the rear today, and soon realise I can't keep ahead of to many anyway. We hit some steep patches where the riders ahead dismount and push their bikes, I follow suit. We hit some no so steep patches where the riders ahead push on, I dismount and push my bike. We hit some technical bits where riders dismount (some voluntary, some not so voluntarily) and push their bikes, I do likewise; we hit some not so technical downhill where riders press on in the saddle; I dismount and push my bike.....are you getting the drift.

It is fair to say that this could be a fun stage....it is also fair to say that with absolutely no energy levels this was hell on earth.

I did however enjoy pushing my bike through one rather technical and muddy downhill to hear the call from behind from someone pushing their bike that this is very ridable. At this juncture I gladly waved the other gentlemen through, however he 'politely' declined. I insisted however that if he thought it rideable he was welcome to go ahead, in poker parlance I do believe I called his bluff. The only joy I got for the whole day was watching Mr BMC face plant 10 metres ahead of me after 4 pedal strokes. Ego brusied and with words to the effect "not enough chance to get any momentum" he pushed his bike off into the distance.....wanker!

Lunch at the roseberry football ground offered the chance to refuel, recharge the batteries and get my head back in the right space for the longest stage of the event - Montezuma falls - 42km off pure bliss according to the assembled masses.

Alternatively it offered me the chance to stomach what I possibly could (half a roll and half a banana) find some shade and shelter with the flies. Having spent the morning telling myself I was pulling out of the afternoon session it was not a happy competitor 332 who fronted up to the start of stage 4.

With the temperature now hitting around 36 degrees and tar melted around the cleat of my cycling shoe preventing me from clipping in, I headed towards the start of the 6km tarmac hill climb.

Whilst not a mounatin bikers bum, I do think I can climb ok on the black stuff. Hence my spirit was not great as I watched a 55 year old lady put about 150m on me in the first 2km of the climb, it's going to be a long afternoon.

I can honestly say that Montezuma falls is some of the best riding to be had, it has to be or otherwise I would never have made it to the bridge.

Energy levels were thankful for a 15 minute wait to allow traffic across the swinging bridge (whilst I may have commenced in Group I, there is no doubt I was crossing in about group L). It would have been lovely to admire the views of the falls but it took every ounce of energy to just to hold my balance and push my bike across the swinging bridge.

Once across a short ride and the legs started to feel better, so good in fact that I could ride through the big puddle others were carrying their bikes through. Well ride two thirds of the way through anyway; then spend a few minutes cleaning the sludge out of the rear derailler.

The next 1/2 hour was actually very enjoyable ( I guess it all relative) with shelter from the trees providing relief form the 35 degree heat and a couple of nice pace gentlemen to follow up the climb and then down the descent. Having settled behind these riders I thought stick with them through to the end and all will be OK. Unfortunately I lost one and hence my spirits began to sag.

However sighting the same rider repairing a flat shortly after lifted my spirits again. So much so that I felt I was positively flying on the fast flowing descent. In fact it wasn't long till I was literally flying on the descent. Slightly dazed but more so amazed that I'd lasted until day 2 for my first fall I began to analyse the damage. Bang to the eye a bit of bum bruising and a chain which had found its way to places it shouldn't be. A few more minutes fixing my chain did provide some entertainment as I watched another 2 riders follow s similar flight path to myself. I also watched my flat tyre mate pass me again, offering the same level of assistance that I had offered him; MTB karma.

A slightly more cautious downhill and I was looking forward to the 10km drinks stop as I had exhausted my water supplies. As it turned out I was looking forward to the 10km drinks stop for the next 5kms, with the last 2km of these spent wishing I was a camel. Never before has one man been so glad too see a water truck.

My riding partner assures me she did not stop at the drinks stop; which means that on average between us we spent six minutes at the drinks station (you do the maths). It turned out not so much to be a drinks station as a chance to restock with water, have a hose down, a little nap under the trees and some more refreshing gels (sure to come back up later).

The next 10kms, whilst without incident left me asking what is wrong with a Sunday afteroon at home on the couch. It is fair to say I arrived in Zeehan a shattered man.

To add to the days woes we arrived in Strahan, got settled into our rooms and headed for the local pub for some well earned replenishments. Just to add to what had been a great day we found we could not get served but was welcome to have a few drinks and wait half an hour, on other days this may be a delight, today the thought of a beer was simply repulsive.

Back home for pasta and bed proved to be a better option.

Day 3 - A grown man cries

Well after day 2 surely day 3 could only get better, afterall we were not going to have scorching heat. The rain and gale force wimds I listened to all through the night was proof of that.

The strain of the last couple of days had taken its toll when an early morning phone call left me in tears. I think it was the thought the rest of my family were about to head out to breakfast, I was about to embark on another days torture. Not since high school days outside the principal's office have I wanted so much to be somewhere else.

However, the shift to Strahan had found me a saviour, the "cafe" (in the true west coast sense of cafe) was a gift from heaven - scrambled eggs and bacon. Sustagen at last, even if the locals advice about the coffee was true (harsh but fair assessment). What's more I even managed to keep some of breakfast down.

The change of weather (ie rain), breakfast and thought of a 6km time trial lifted my spirits. Thanks to Alex I even got my front derailler working. With starting in reverse order to current placing I was off early. Thankfully it was all over in about 28 minutes, no crashes but just a little spooked by the spray tunnel. The rain got heavier as I waited for the rest of our party to finish (they were off considerably later than I) but any respite from the previous days heat was appreciated.

Next a cruise through to Trial Harbour for the Granville - Trial Harbour stage. The cruising stages supposedly provide a chance to get your breath back, relax, and talk to fellow competitors prior to the next racing stage. However if you happen to relax to much, and take in a little to much of the view whilst cornering on a gravel road at 35kph they can aso provide the opportunity to hose down the blood, dust of your bike and limp to the next stage with your fellow riders trying to stop their sides from splitting with laughter (such is the lot of the messy multisporter).

We arrive at trial harbour destined for 3 hours sheltering from the rain whilst having lunch, dressing in dry clothes and trying to keep warm (some of us were also dressing wounds from cruising incidents). I suspect that it was at this point that Nick and Jen (our trusty support crew) were thinking the beige interior of the new V8 lexus was not the ideal sheltering point for four muddy mountainbikers.

As the rain cleared and the temperature approached the mid 20's the aternoon proved beautiful for mounatin biking. A few tricky downhills and uphills (mainly negotiated on foot) interspersed some fast flowing sandy 4wd tracks. I even summoned the strenbgth to pass a few stragglers on the uphill finish.

After a somewhat circumspect start to day 3 it turned out to be a rather pleasant day (well except for the crash on a flat bit of road with absolutely no obstacles that is).

Travelling companion Alex didn't have such a great day and the windy road back to Strahan proved his undoing. Fortunately Pete the freelance cameraman we gave a lift back to Starhan wasn't filming as Alex managed to part with his coke and gels alongside the highway.

Best of all on arriving back at Strahan we were comforted by the knowledge that we had a reservation for dinner and my stomach whilst not 100 per cent was capable of holding down a glass of red.

Day 4 - Home Straight

Well after a better showing on day 3 I approached day 4 with a degree of optimism, except for the fact that we would be riding into a raging headwind.

With the local scrambled eggs having worked on day 3 I was not prepared to change a winning formula, however I did heed the locals advise and swap the coffee for a milkshake. Even bettter I actually managed to hold down everything (almost).

Alex meanwhile was not travelling quite so well, but it is strange how someone else's misery can actually lift your own spirits (sorry Alex).

At muster I received two great pieces of news, I had been reseeded back with riders more of my own ability, and the course had been reversed to allow us to travel along the beach with a tailwind, life was good again.

Best of all day 4 was not technical and it was flat, a road cylists dream. Again the words from Alice Springs were running through my mind, get yourself in a group share the workload and enjoy the final stage. This again looked like a good plan as our group of 30 headed to the start line cruising at what I thought was an unsustainable speed. This gave me comfort however that I was among some stronger cyclists and all I had to do was sit on their wheel and let them drag me through.

The start was a few kilometres along a gravel road. The train headed out and I sat in the pack. With the pace quite moderate I did my turn at the front only to realise our train was now a train of three, myself and the two go pro men. Sitting in second wheel I thought "this is OK three of us will work together and it will be a  memorable final stage". A few minutes later I was met with the words "my mate has dropped off, I better wait for him" hence 4km into a 36km ride I was destined to ride it alone.

With a few very average experiences at non-drafting triathlons it seems fate had dealt it's hand. I was left to time trial the last 32km. My experiences in the sand at Alice enabled me to safely almost all of the lose stuff, however again I did demonstrate my ability to fall safely on a quick little downhill. Thankfully only in front of one person (jade) who was probably use to my crash demonstrations from Alice.

The fact that I had started near the tail of the field left me with an unusual experienec, counting people I passed rather than those who passed me. As it turned out 1 hour and 12 minutes and 25 people later I arrived at the end of Wildside.

My spirits were buoyed by a sense of accomplishment, if not pride in my performance. Day two was now a distant memory and a hot shower and hot chocolate actually had me feeling human again.

Wildside proved to be what you should expect from the west coast of Tasmania; harsh on body and bike, unpredictable weather and stunningly beautiful but different scenery (well those bits I was capable of observing anyway).

As for the dead whales on the beach I can only say one thing, "what dead whales" I didn't see or smell them, I do belive all my senses had shut down by this point.

A special thanks to support crew, Nick, Jenny and Craig and my fellow riders Juliet, Julia and Alex. It was a great experience, will I do it again? - lets wait and see.

Freycinet - October 2011

The Freycinet Challeneg - the official multisport championships of Australia - exactly the event for a novice paddler to undertake his first paddling competition.

Not being a runner I had managed to convince my wife to do the run and road bike legs. She was delighted about the thought of running 40 odd kilometres on a mostly flat surface. Well maybe the runs over the saddle and back probably aren't quite flat. I advised her that it was the best way to run out the tightness in her back and hamstrings, and really what would her physio know.

That left me with the paddle and mountain bike. Well I should have read the warning signs. A spin class to get the bike legs working and the Challenge was the talk of the town. My lack of paddling experience was a point of discussion, however some kind suggestions were forthcoming such as just make sure you have a stable craft and you should be OK. In response I mentioned that I thought my ski (Think EVO) was suppose to be relatively stable, the response to this was "a ski what are you thinking". How prothetic these words turned out to be.

The MTB legs whilst challenging provided me with a new experience - one of staying on the bike. Each leg completed about 10 minutes quicker than the previous year with no real misadventure. Huh, if I can do that then this paddling will be a sinch.

It may not have turned out quite that way.

The day one paddle was in the shletred waters of the lagoon. Well relatively sheltered, and quite tidal it would appear, waters of the lagoon.

I set out full steam, thinking a bit of wind but all in all not to bad. As the wind picked up so too did my lack of direction. A quick beaching as I headed up lead to the removal of weed from the rudder and I continued on my way. Up around the bouy and back down had the first lap completed, one to go.

My problem then lay in that some people headed up the right hand side of the course (divided by an island) whilst others headed to the left. I on the other hand have never been the most decisive person in the world. Hence I chose the left path, then I chose the right path and finally I chose the middle path. Hence in full view of all spectators I lay a wash on the middle of the island. Turn the ski around, back in and off we go, well that was the plan anyway, unfortunately my rudder was loose (my excuse) and the wind had a tendancy to push me back to the island (just call me Gilligan). After 10 minutes of fluffing about and watching all other competitors go past, I did manage to get away and actually make it up the course and back without a fall.

Day one of competiton paddling reads: time -very slow, beachings - 3, falls - 0; so it could be worse.

On to day two and we arrive at Richardsons beach. Water dead flat and no sign of the dreaded easterlies I have been warned about. Just need to offload boat paddle across to the start and get this over with.

Well boat offloaded, rudder fixed and EASTERLIES arrive. Well only moderate at this stage and I do manage to make it to the start line. As the briefing continues one thing is evident, the wind is picking up. For christs sake get this thing underway.

When we finally do get underway the wind is a gale (well in my terms it is) and the sea must be all of 6 foot (well maybe 1/2 a foot but it is all the same to me). The first 500 metres left me feeling a little unsteady but dry. The next 10 km left me feeling, well very wet. On arriving back to shore someone observed it appears I had a fall. I quickly responded that "no I hadn't had a fall, I had 8 of the buggers". Perhaps the EVO may have been best replaced with an inflatable life raft.

I would especually like to thank a fellow padller, Tania Chau, for not dying hestrically with laughter as everytime I passed her I managed to fall in again. I should charge for my remounting lessons but I am just not that sort of guy. I would also like to thank the surf rescue guys whom I go to know on a first name basis.

It was an experience which suggests I may have a few technique issues to brush up on. Regardless it was a great event and we left Freycinet happy, well apart from caroline pulling her hamstring again.

Alice Springs - May 2011 - My Introduction to MTB'ing

Some people go to the beach for their holidays, some maybe travel the world, a spot of camping with the family or maybe just relaxing at home. Then there are those who think it much more enjoyable to spend 5 days mountain biking through central Australia.

Of course if one was to take the latter option they would of course ensure plenty of preparation prior to the event. Miles in the legs, skills brushed upon, familiarise yourself with the pitfalls of night riding and you'll have a jolly old time.

Then there are those who think a few rides beforehand, a bit of new kit and we'll wing it from there.

Guess which category I fit into.

The answer to that question probably lies in the fact that it is 1am in the morning, prior to the final 40km, and I'm lying in bed typing this email rather than resting up to power through to the finish line.

Why am I still awake, is it all the caffeine from the torq gels, maybe just the excitement of completing my first night race. No - the answer is much simpler, I can not sleep on my back.

Then sleep on your side I hear you say, problem solved - well here in lies the problem of the novice mountain biker. To understand the crux of the problem I probably need to recap the past 4 days.

Day 1 - 49km

Under clear skies we head off. Wise words from my learned colleague Juliet are pace yourself - they'll go out to hard and blow themselves up for the rest of the week - don't fall into that trap. Well I'm to clever for that of course. However the first 5km is on bitumen. With a road cycling background we're traveling along at a nice pace, hey how good is that. Oh bugger my water bladder is leaking - never mind I've got 500ml of torq energizer, nearly the recommended amount for an 80kg guy to get through the next 2 hours.

Off the bitumen and onto the 4wd track - heh what happened to Juliet, she's dropped off behind me. Never mind 8k down the legs are feeling good and I'm moving through the pack. Up to the barb wire fence, hop over that, up the next hill this is feeling great - down the next hill - don't mind me riders as you go past, I just thought this was an ideal spot for a little lie down; bruise and cut number 1 now accounted for.

Dust yourself off, quick drink of water (oh that's right it's all leaked
out) and away we go again. Still smiling.

Another 5-6k down, few more riders going past and a couple of testy little loose bits, not like back home in Hobart. Wow these laser helmets are good.
That was an almighty thud but didn't hurt my head at all. Can't say the same for my shoulder though.

Oh there goes Juliet - see you at the finish line - look I'm still smiling.

20k down and oops I've lost a screw in my cleat. My right foot now won't clip out. Where the he'll is that water station again.

Make it to the water station, you beauty another 500ml of torq to get me through the next 25k back on the recommended dosage again. Thanks to the volunteers for filling my water bottle, I couldn't quite manage to clip out.


Another 5k, heh I can clip out now - on that last crash I've managed to rip my shoe off and leave the cleat in the pedal. Never mind that right knee is recovering from surgery and probably shouldn't be pulling on the pedals for the next 20k (or about 20k as I seem to have lost my polar out here somewhere).

Well after some ungodly time I limp across the line, home to wash the grazes and treat the bruises, 49k down - 200k to go, maybe a little more preparation would have been handy, but heh I'm not working - so I'm still smiling.

Day 2 - 40 km

A walk in the park after yesterday surely. All my bad luck is out of the way, today I won't go out to hard, sit back relax and enjoy - if only I could keep up with this crazy speed through town.

But it's alright - a little sore- but I'm still smiling.

Across the railway track and things are looking great. New cleat, new water bladder this will be fun.

Bugger those rocks really can slice your sidewalls can't they. And doesn't look like stan's is going to seal this baby. Patch on, now know how to use
co2 canisters, only took 2 goes and away we go. Another 5k down, and maybe this baby hasn't sealed.

Last canister, bugger that has blown my valve out. That's ok tube in, wonder if I can blow this little sucker up with my mouth. Heh I'm in luck here comes a guy pushing his bike, thanks for the canister, sorry I couldn't help you out with a tube.

From here it is cruise through the next 20 km, maybe I'll still beat someone back?

Heh and no crashes - that I can remember. Got to be still smiling.

Oh that's right up Anzac hill tonight - 300m on the road I've got to be smiling about that.

Wow those bike shoes really don't want to go back on, but heh this will be a hoot. Just discovered it is very hard to keep smiling whilst coughing up a lung. But heh stage win for Juliet, got to keep smiling.



Day 3 - 77km

I haven't slept all night for fear. This is twice as long as ive ever ridden a mtb before- and I've got to ride 5k just to get to the start line.

They tell me the first 25k is challenging, thankfully only another 52k once you get to that point.

Is that a smile or more a nervous grimace, as the starters siren goes off.

25k down and only 1 more bruise added. That's worth a smile.

Now on to the bike track. Cruise along, conserve the legs and admire the view, hook onto a bunch and get a tow. But then again triathlons are non drafting - let's hit the time trial position and go like merry hell.

By god how long does this highway go for, obviously a lot longer than my water bottle.

Thankfully a water station in site - your out of water - hmm that's alright just keep smiling.

Red dirt and sand, it's not quite bitumen, thankfully a tow from Georgia and co gets my head out of a dark place and over the ridge. 5k of smooth pedalling to go and the volunteers at the check point have water now I'm smiling.

Along the road and hook a left into the bmx track, that wasn't too bad, oh bugger left hamstring has just cramped, this could be embarrassing if I can't get up the ramp.

Over the line in 4hr40; fears conquered, legs trashed and I'm still smiling.

Day 4 - 23k time trial and 23k night ride

Well how many people will I hold up on the time trial? Luckily off very early.

Heh - sweet single track that was fun - only 1 minor off, and the graze blends in with the others.

Over the line in 1h 24 and definitely smiling.

Ok this night riding can't be too bad. I've done the course before, I'm kitted up with ay-up lights and I'm right to go.

First 8k and this great fun - oops wrong line there and over the handlebars, that shoulder from day 1 doesn't seem to have healed that well.

Well back on the horse, smile, and away we go - let's put that all down to the inexperience of night riding.

I probably should put falls 2,3,4 and 5 down to the inexperience of night riding also. I think fall 2 broke my confidence, fall 3 broke my lights (there's a battery out there somewhere - but not the ayups), fall 4 broke my spirit and fall 5 may have broke my shoulder.

Thanks Jo for letting me sit behind over the hill - across the line - 20 minutes slower than this morning, now less a light as well as a polar - but guess what there's food and warmth inside - so I'm still smiling.

Well it's now 2.30 and yes the reason I can't sleep is that I have never been able to sleep on my back, and that there is not one other piece of my body that doesn't scream out with pain when I lie on it. It's very hard to smile when in a constant state of pain.

But on the bright side 210k down and only 50k to go.

Am I having fun - hell yes. Would I rather be at the beach - hell no.

Would I do it all again - sure would, but maybe with a little more preparation.

Hopefully in another 12 hours I'll be STILL SMILING.

Welcome to the Messy Multisporter

After a carrer of indifferent sporting achievements about four uyears ago I was convinced to do a triathlon. This proved to be the beginning of a journey down a path of extremely dissappointing and occasionally humorous (people always laugh at others pain) sporting pursuits. This site is dedicated to those who like to "have a go" with no expectation of ever getting anywhere near the pointy end of the field.