Race reports

Challenge Canberra Standard Triathlon Race Report

My family and I traveled to Canberra on Friday evening before the race and had some pasta at Solita. The standard (Olympic) distance race was scheduled to start at 2:30 PM on Saturday, which created a couple of challenges. The timing made fueling tricky, and the heat was intense—it was the hottest part of the day, with temperatures around 30°C.

Swim Leg

The swim was a deep-water mass start, which I actually enjoy because it feels like a true race. When you pass someone, you know it’s for position. I lined up on the far right, hoping for a cleaner start. I got a clean start alright—there was nothing in front of me. But to my horror, I realised the swimmer directly to my left was veering off course, pushing me away from the pack!

I briefly considered sprinting ahead to rejoin the main group, but I was worried about pushing too hard and triggering a panic attack. So, I slowed down for a moment and swam over their legs to get back on track. I’d already been dropped, but gradually, I started to close the gap, finding some draft before reaching the first turn buoy.

I could see a front group had broken away, but the gap was too wide for me to bridge—I just wasn’t a strong enough swimmer. Now I was swimming solo, but I kept things steady, focusing on doing the best I could. Every so often, I’d feel a tap on my feet, so I figured there were a few people drafting off me. I started to picture myself like Pac-Man, catching other athletes. This became my theme for the race.

After the third turn buoy, I started catching a lot of swimmers from an earlier wave. I navigated through the traffic as best I could, taking advantage of any draft I could find while avoiding any tussles. The swim itself was fairly uneventful, and I finished with a time of 23:07.

Transition 1

I was relieved to be back on dry land. One positive was the long run to T1, which gave me a bit of time to catch my breath and get my wetsuit off my arms before I forced myself to start running. When I got to my bike, I got tangled up trying to pull my feet out of the wetsuit, fumbling a bit and losing over 10 seconds (I was 12 seconds slower than the competitor I exited the swim with, but had passed before T1). After finally getting my helmet on, I ran with my bike to the exit. T1 time: 2:20.

Bike Leg

Knowing I was behind the leaders, and feeling good in my legs, I decided to use them to try and close the gap. I pushed hard toward the first turnaround, where I finally got a sense of how far behind I was. The problem was, I didn’t know who was at the front of the race, so I just picked someone ahead of me to use as my reference. The gap was about 2 minutes. I kept pushing, and by the next turnaround—around 12km into the race—it seemed like the gap had shrunk by about 10 seconds.

The gap was closing, but not as quickly as I’d hoped. I was focusing on my nutrition, but a burp caught me off guard, and some of my breakfast ended up on my Garmin as I looked down. Not a good sign. Fortunately, I had a couple of water bottles with me, but they were only half full—I hadn’t wanted to carry the extra weight.

I used some of the water to cool myself down while also drinking it to help settle my stomach. I felt fine, but my body was giving me signs, and I knew things could get tricky toward the end if I didn’t listen. Still, I kept pushing—I reminded myself this was a short race, and I wasn’t too worried about blowing up.

By the halfway point, the gap to the guys ahead hadn’t changed much. I told myself they’d fade in the back half, while I’d stay strong. Easier said than done. About 10 minutes later, I was feeling the full effects of my earlier efforts. It took a lot of focus to maintain the pace and ignore the complaints from my legs.

Sure enough, on the final lap, I started making some significant progress (Pac-Man was on the move!). It really spurred me on to keep pushing. By this point, there were plenty of athletes out on course, making it hard to gauge exactly where I stood—except for one person I’d been tracking each lap. It turned out to be Ben, who was racked next to me in transition.

As I headed back toward transition, I noticed a shadow following me. Realising someone was drafting off me, I put in a burst of effort. But with only 5km to go it was short-lived. I knew it was time to shift focus to the run. I eased off the power a bit, aiming to stay efficient while maintaining a good pace.

I rolled into transition feeling like the race win was off the table, but keen to see what I was capable of anyway. Bike split was 57:41.

Transition 2

I nailed the flying dismount and started to run, but then the chain fell off the bike. I had to carry it over some ramps since the pedals were spinning wildly. Once I got to the rack, I got the bike in place, helmet off, shoes on, and then it was time to head out on the run. T2 time: 1:03.

Run Leg

Surprisingly, my legs felt okay, but the heat was my biggest concern. I spotted my coach along the course, who offered some much-needed encouragement. I focused on Ben, who was just ahead. I quickly closed the gap and passed him, but he told me Travis was 2 minutes ahead. “Wow, that’s a big gap to close in just 10km,” I thought.

Still, anything can happen in triathlon, and often does. I knew I just had to do my best, and whatever the outcome, I’d be satisfied. Seeing my family offering high-fives on the side of the course was a welcome boost. I tried to pick up my pace, but a stitch hit, and I had to ease off and control my breathing.

IMG_5402

The run was 4 laps, which mentally was easier for me to handle since I could tick each lap off as I went. The hardest part, though, was that every time I tried to push the pace, it felt like a knife was stabbing into my stomach. My legs felt fine, but I couldn’t go harder without more pain from the stitch. It was frustrating, but the gap to Travis ahead was shrinking quickly.

After two laps, the gap was down to 1 minute, and I could actually see him up ahead. That was motivating, even though I was still managing my stitch. The gap kept closing. I tried to pick it up at the start of the third lap, but the stitch hit me hard, forcing me to slow dramatically for about 500 meters to regroup. Once I could breathe again, I picked up the pace. On the straight stretch back to the finish, the gap was now less than 100 meters. Pac-Man might actually win this!

I made the pass just before the start of the 4th lap. The support out on the course was amazing, and it gave me the boost I needed to try and raise my pace again. It hurt, but I knew it would all be over soon. With 1500m to go, I told myself it was less than 5 minutes left. I went all in.

About 2 minutes later, I regretted that decision big time.

My stitch was excruciating. Every breath hurt, and I considered walking, but instead, I pushed through, made the final turn, and headed for the finish. No sprints—at that point, all I could manage was to keep running. Run split: 34:52. Total time: 1:59:03. 1st in my age group, overall, and the fastest bike and run splits.

I’m incredibly grateful for all my friends, family, and even the randoms who cheered me on during the race. Your support gave me a huge mental boost. Thank you!

Learnings

Before the race, I truly believed I was capable of winning. But after the way things unfolded in the swim, I thought that outcome was out of reach. It’s a good reminder to never give up—sometimes you never know what will happen. Just focus on doing your best, and the results usually take care of themselves.

I know I still need to work on my positioning in the swim. I’ve been limiting my potential because I’m scared of panic attacks, which means I’m holding back. I need to be smarter with my positioning and sight more frequently in the start phase to make better decisions.

When it’s hot, my body just doesn’t absorb nutrition the same way it does when it’s cooler. With the added intensity of racing, it makes sense that I struggled with stitches and burping. The key is listening to your body and responding to the cues it gives you. I might have a plan, but if things aren’t going as expected, I’m willing to adjust. This is what makes endurance racing so interesting and such a great challenge.

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