[my] Poo Bug

We have all had the nervous nellies before, you know that soft, loose poo that has been laced with pre-race adrenalin, having a mind of its own as it races to pass through that final finish shute of your colon. But I have never experienced the unscrupulously dirty tactics of diarrhoea coming through as the winner of the poo Olympics prior to a triathlon. It (the winning poo) certainly had explosive speed when I was woken at 4am with my first bout and then held a consistent pace passing through my intestines for the 5 hours prior to my start at the Wyong Tri Festival, until it had literally cleared the field leaving me completely depleted of not only faeces but all energy too!


Early morning study material

Dive bombing into a pool of pain

Sloshing through the sloppy mud into Budgewoi creek felt somewhat reminiscent of the Olympic champion poo I had experienced earlier and paired with a similar odour, I found myself heaving before I had even started. Despite this, I was happy to see plenty of friends, chat as we waited for a kind soul to replace a ladies’ pair of broken goggles and importantly I felt comfortable (mainly in the fact that there was absolutely no chance of any ‘sh-arts’ occurring as I was completely colon-cleansed and hadn’t eaten anything all morning). As the start horn blurted, both of my feet rebelled like a toddler craving attention and cramped into a shape resembling paralysed duck feet. I was seriously concerned, wondering if ducks with paralysed feet drowned, and was keeping a close eye on the water safety as I tried to fight my new found swimming style. Eventually I accepted my rudders dragging through the navigational mine/mind-field that had people swimming either side of various buoys and literally swallowed the murky water as I giggled to myself, consequently wondering whether this would prolong or purge my poo bug.

That’s me in the green cap…what? No, that brown sludge trail is not mine!

I took my duck pose very seriously, literally waddling into transition as I winced at the twinges in my calves. I begged this poo bug to give me some sort of streptococci super strength and at least let me get on the bike before my calves joined my tantrum-ing feet!


A little hiccup amongst the smooth sailing

Just like the inside of my bowel, the roads were smooth, undulating and fast. As I felt my anti-crap super powers take action, I knew I would enjoy the ride. My aim was to blow away as many of the other competitors, with my local knowledge, left over worlds’ strength and higher cadence than I was used to, to really flush out my legs. The (not my) wind gained strength on each of the 4 laps, which really bared-down on us at the backend but gave us a nice tail whip on the return. There was some fun ping pong action with club mates, making me really push hard when I was approaching others to make a fair and timely pass. I was systematically sipping Endura to replenish the electroytes that had earlier slipped out of me through the eye of a needle. Half way into my refuelling, my knee thought it would act independent to my body and knocked the drink bottle from my hand. I made note of the surrounds and promised myself to pick it up on the return lap. I was disappointed when I couldn’t find it, until the Technical Official passed, holding what looked like MY bottle. They had cleared it from the road to prevent accidents and happily passed it to me, who probably seemed like a massive haemorrhoid in their butt! I was so pleased and grateful for my simple luck.


I seriously enjoy when my body functions properly, oops I mean racing!

Pulled Pork burger legs

Getting off the bike was the first time I noticed the heat. It was a slow cooker sort of day, where it crept up on you as you progressed further into the run, leaving you with that meat-falling-off the bone sort of muscle tenderness and fatigue. I was adamant of clinging to the girl that I exited transition with, but as we approached the last turn-around point on the second lap I was feeling like I had been flushed and was slipping down the S-bend. I wasn’t giving up as I really didn’t know who would be sitting on the throne in my age group, so I smiled and used every last excrement of energy to leave my very own skid mark on this race coming 1st in 40-44yr AG and 7th Female overall across the line (Club Distance 1km,30km,8km time: 1:57.50hr). While having a pre-race poo bug may make life a little strained, I still always try my personal best.



40-44 yr AG 1st – Me, 2nd – The gorgeous Chantal


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