Yes, I’ve done something else a bit mad. Now that I’ve had my second shoulder replaced I can swim in a straight line, and I can cycle without pain in my shoulders, I thought it was time for my regular triathlon. When I say regular I do not mean frequent - about once every 20 years! 

Let’s be clear - I am not built for fast sports. I look more the shot putter type - a bit overweight and a broad build.

I entered our club triathlon (sprint distance) as I know the place well, having marshalled there for at least 15 years. So I feel very comfortable at the location and I know most of the marshals. 

Entering an event six months away seems quite reasonable - when the actual day comes around I realise what I have actually let myself in for. 

It’s fair to say that my race had its ups and downs.

My swim was fine for the first length, then my breathing completely went to pot as I frantically helicoptered through the other eleven lengths, but when I check my watch on exit I found that I had done a personal best.

My cycle leg was strong. Down on the aero bars I motored round the three laps, with the marshals cheering me on. I even overtook some people. Then I dismounted and ran with my bike towards transition, tripped on the timing mat and splatted down on both knees with a good skid. The mat was like sandpaper and I had big grazes down both shins. It’s a shame that nobody was taking photos at that point, to commemorate my wipe out.

Friends were concerned, but adrenaline is a remarkable thing. I embarked on the run with blood running down both shins, thus getting lots of sympathy, and I actually did a reasonable time by my standards. I could pretend that the run/walk strategy was because of the injury, when it was what I had intended all along. 

Through the finish line I was presented with my medal. A nice medic cleaned up my knees and I had some well-earned cake. I way exceeded my expectations and finished in 1:32 - I expected to take at least 1:45 and had mentally given myself plenty of leeway on that. 

Now here’s an odd thing: I was very last in my age group (fifth out of five), but I beat all the 30-34 year old women. My theory on this is that in your thirties you’ll have a go at stuff, as you will in your forties. When you’re fifty you might set yourself the challenge of doing a triathlon. But once you’re in your sixties, you tend not to ‘have a go’. The other women in my age group were all experienced triathletes who continue racing because they are good at it, so it was a tougher age category than the much younger ones. The same applies in the higher age categories. 

Why do people stop trying new things as they age? Why do people stop looking for new experiences?

Susannah

A Moodscope member