THE X FACTOR
The athletes in my wave are flying past me, buoyed by cheering spectators. I’m losing valuable time in my bid not to come last in my new-found M40-44 age group. My strength is diminished but I keep pushing. Finally, with veins throbbing, blue lips and teeth gritted, I enter some kind of multisport vortex and achieve my goal. After five minutes of intense concentration, I’ve managed to push my numb fingers through the holes in my bike mitts. Time then to return to the land of the living, exit T1 and start chasing Tim Don into the Nottinghamshire countryside.
It’s been 308 days since I last raced an actual triathlon as, like many of you, 2020 has become a year of striking events off the calendar – ta rah Outlaw Half Bowood, Xterra Greece and Nick Cave in Cardiff; hello my settee giving me the posture of Quasimodo and Yoda’s love child. But the day of reckoning has finally arrived and, after months of jumping through
