The Great Big Tinman, Oxman, and Pak'n'Save All in One Race Report

 Uh oh, I've done three races without writing a single race report! You deserve better, so here's a quick and dirty, three for the price of one update on the late 2023 racing. Prepare yourself for a train of thought, unproofread mess of a blog, hopefully, published before my next race.

Part 1: Tinman

First off was something a bit different, with the Tinman triathlon in Mt Maunganui, a race location where I have an appalling record. This one was a non-drafting Olympic distance, and more than that, it was nationals. Having won a sneaky age group national title over the Olympic distance, with no north islanders present a few years back, I was keen to see what I could do. Luckily for me, only one other elite was brave enough to show up.

Coming off a three-week heat camp (work trip) in Singapore, I was ready for some scorching Bay of Plenty weather. As it happened, my heat adaptations were not required, but having been caught in a few downpours in Singapore, I wasn't too disappointed by the forecast of a weekend of rain. It also made me feel better about having to work every minute that I wasn't busy with race-related activities. My accommodation was basically a small box with a bed, and just enough room to walk around it, but handily it had a tray for having breakfast in bed, which also turned out to be ideal for working from bed.

Race morning came around and the rain was lighter than expected. I managed to hop onto the back of the front pack in the swim and hung on until the final few hundred metres, when it became strung out.

Onto the bike, I gave it the beans, but the watts wouldn't come. Nonetheless, I made my way to the front of the group, and pushed on ahead, feeling smug, thinking I was leading the race. That is until near the first turn of the three lap out and back course, when the other (and perhaps more legitimate) elite athlete flew back the other way with a two minute lead. I later learned that he had distanced us so comprehensively in the water, that I didn't even know he was there.

It was well and truly chucking it down at this point, along with some hefty crosswinds, but I pushed on, and slowly but surely, the watts started to reveal themselves, and by the final lap, I was riding goal power, and getting along quite nicely.

T2 was a case of de ja vu (refer to Oxman 2022 race report) as I opted to go sockless as they had been soaked by the rain, and I didn't know how big a gap I had on third place. I figured I'd be ok for 10 km. I took off feeling good, and at the turn took a split on first and third. A four-minute gap in either direction, with 6 km to go. With another race lined up a week later, I eased off the gas and ran tempo to the finish. It was around this point that I started to feel a bit of a tickle on my Achilles. Just the very beginning of a blister, not a biggie. I cruised around the base track, picked it up for the last km, and crossed the line in second place. 

Happy enough with that, I said my congratulations to James Corbett in first place and found my partner. I took my shoes off, to find that the blister on my Achilles had skipped blister and gone straight to gaping wound. See below image. the back of my left shoe should not be that colour.

It was about 9:30 am by this point, with a 10 am checkout from our airbnb. The following is a real conversation (approximately):

"We'd better go and check out. Do you think you'll get drug tested today?"

"Nah, what are the chances of that? They probably aren't even testing today".

"Excuse me, are you Tom Somerville? You've been randomly selected for drug testing today"

Cool.

So off I went to provide a sample, while Laura went to finalise check out. I was feeling good about this, and had places to be, so shortly after finishing all the official paperwork, I said I was ready. A few minutes later, I returned with a dismally small sample. Note to self: If you aren't definitely ready, you aren't ready. Three bottles of water, and what felt like hours later, I had another go, with great success.

I found some lunch and went to a very damp prize giving to collect my shiny silver medal. At this point, I had nowhere to go to get out of the rain and had another 5 hours until my flight home. Luckily, the absolute living legend, Mel from Tri NZ saved the day, by giving us the key to her accommodation to shelter for the rest of the afternoon. A hot shower and change of clothes later, I packed my bike, did some more work, and jumped in an Uber to the airport. As if we hadn't had enough fun for one day, all flights had just been canceled due to weather related delays/cancelations around the north island. Some last-minute accommodation was found, and we came back to the airport in the morning when we were all bundled onto a bus for a scenic drive up to Auckland, a few hours in the super city, and finally, a flight home to Christchurch.

Part 2: Oxman

Say what you will about me, but you can't say I make it easy for myself. After a week of minimal training to try to heal my heel, I decided to move house the day before the race. Some people say it can't be done. I decided to put that to the test. After a full day of heavy lifting, I was still feeling good, so figured I was good to go for the following day. I also still had a crater on the back of my foot, but nothing half a roll of strapping tape couldn’t fix. What could go wrong?

In the chaos of the move, all of my gear had got mixed up and on race morning, I couldn’t find any of it. By the time I had rounded everything up and boosted (at or below the legal speed limit) to the race venue, I had 20 minutes until race start. Parked the car, racked the bike, donned the wetsuit, good to go.

I swam strong for the first lap, but maybe let off the gas in the second, with no company, and a long day ahead. I clambered out of Canterbury’s finest irrigation pond in second place, with daylight either side (speaking of daylight, for once it wasn’t raining). Transition was slowed by the decision to put socks on for the bike to look after my poor, delicate foot, but I got through quick enough. I even put a bottle down my suit for the #aerogains (actually just needed somewhere to put my spares after my built-in storage box broke).

Shortly after starting the bike, I was in the lead and riding satisfactorily. I made it through the pothole-riddled Ashley Gorge Rd, which was easier this year due to Canterbury Tri Club going to town with the day glow spray paint. I cruised through Oxford and turned back towards the lake when I realised my position felt different. I looked down and saw that my aero bars had been slipping forwards in their brackets, despite the copious amounts of friction paste used on installation.  This may or may not have been, but definitely was, entirely due to my gross misuse of parts, having mounted my elbow pads on the angled part of the extensions, rather than on the base bar. This enables me to get more reach, and better supports my arms parallel to the extensions, but also means there is a significant forward load on the bars from the forward component of the load exerted by my elbows. I have linked the two bars together (using aerospace materials, I might add) to stop rotation due to eccentric loading, but was relying on friction paste and clamping to resist the forward load.

I stopped before I lost my bars altogether, whipped out an allen key (I always have a set on me), and slid the bars back to the correct position. I cranked up the torque, put away my tools, and hit the road, still in first place. Five km down the road, I was slipping again. I stopped once more to fix them, and this time was passed. I took off once more and started slipping immediately. This time I kept the allen key accessible, so got to work on the bars while riding. This didn’t work either, so at that point, I gave up, and just avoided the aero bars. I rode hard (too hard) and caught the leader with the help of a climb. We rode together for a while until I made a move by using a position that the UCI would be furious with. This became uncomfortable so I went back to sitting up, and we came together before the transition, but I managed to sneak in first.

A quick transition due to already wearing socks, and I had a substantial lead out of T2, but a couple of km in, the blister started bugging me. Thinking fast (by my standards), I whipped off my shoe and calf sleeve, and stuffed the sleeve low into the heel of my shoe, to create clearance between my achilles and the back of the shoe. This was surprisingly effective, and I was running pain-free. Briefly. Not long later, the changed fit of the shoe started creating hotspots in different areas, and a combination of moving furniture and riding hard in an unfamiliar position started taking a toll on my back. My pace was fading fast until I was reduced to a jog. Not long later, in a moment of weakness, I made the call to pull the pin and handed in my timing chip. Not the best feeling in the world, but it wasn’t worth doing any more damage. I stayed around to congratulate now three-time winner, Jared Millar and limped home with my tail between my legs.

I had some work to do to fix the bars before the Tauranga half. This has now been completed. Full engineering design report to follow.

Part 3: Pak’n’Save Triathlon Festival

And now for something completely different.

A full 20 days rest and my tinman blister still not fully healed, and it was time to go again. This time, I was really changing things up and jumping in a draft legal supersprint, with a stacked field of junior and U23 elites. As this was the shortest race, I’ll make this the shortest recap.

I swam hard and didn’t lose too much time, but missed the lead pack, happy enough with that, I found myself in a chase pack of three on the bike, working well together, and keeping the gap steady to the front group. Unfortunately, my sick long course bike handling skillz were hurting me, losing time in the corners until finally, a gap opened that I couldn’t close, so I time trialed the last few km, without letting the gap open any more than about 30 m. Needless to say, I was delirious with exhaustion by the time I got to T2. So much so that I left transition without my race belt. Luckily a marshal pointed it out at the exit, so I went back to get it. That was pretty much game over for me, as these old legs don’t have the speed needed to catch those young bucks. I did manage to pick off one person from the front pack and crossed the line in 6^th. A good experience, but not a race format I think I have a bright future in.