Australian Duathlon Championships Race Report 2025
A Day That Changed Everything
I chose to race the Australian Duathlon Championships in Canberra as a tune-up before the World Championships in Wollongong. It was meant to be a stepping stone—some solid race experience, nothing more. We drove down the day before and caught up with friends over dinner. I was relaxed heading into race morning, despite the crisp chill in the air.
Pre-Race & Transition Thoughts
There’s something about the duathlon that always catches me off guard—especially in transition. You think there’s more to prepare, but once your bike is racked and your helmet’s set, there’s not much else to do except warm up and wait for the gun.
Run Leg 1
Finding the Right Pace
Before I knew it, we were off.
I told myself not to get carried away in the first 5K. The course was made up of 2.5K loops around the Stromlo cross-country track, complete with a punchy hill you had to climb and descend each lap. The first kilometre clocked in at 3:20/km—too hot for me—so I backed off to the low 3:30s, which felt more sustainable on the grass.
And just like that, the first run was done. I hit transition and hopped on the bike for the 40K leg. Run 18:17 (11sec faster than last year).
Transition 1
Transition was uneventful and I after doning my helmet I quickly started the bike leg in a time of: 28sec.
Bike Leg
Grinding Through Fatigue
Getting into my shoes was a bit clumsy, and a competitor up the road took advantage of the gap. But once I found my rhythm, I started putting in the work—aiming for 280–300W uphill, and around 250W on the descents.
The course was undulating, and while I enjoyed the challenge, my legs just didn’t feel great. Some lingering fatigue and travel caught up with me. Still, the focus was on doing the best I could in that moment.
Conditions were a little more windy than I’d like. I didn’t feel like I was going to be blown off the bike, but the crosswinds just made things feel that much harder to make forward progress.
I managed to reel in a few athletes, including Dylan on a road bike (a clear advantage for me being on a TT). The course was mostly solo riding—quiet and focused. On the recon ride the day before, a magpie had swooped me, but race day was drama-free. I rolled back into transition, optimistic that my legs might show up for the run. I finished the bike leg in 1:06:41 (2mins faster than last year).
Transition 2
Racked my bike, shoes on, helmet off and almost went the wrong way.. T2 time was 40sec.
Run Leg
Holding On
Only four laps stood between me and the finish line – 10K left. My legs had no real pop, I was just trying to do my best in the moment and keep on top of my run form. The challenge I often face is trying to force the speed and overstriding – it results in an increase in speed but is highly fatiguing. Whereas if I focus more on strong running ith good technique – though not as fast its more sustainable and ultimately a higher average pace.
Lap by lap, I started to find my rhythm. By lap three, I was closing in on competitors ahead. I felt like I was running strong. Then came the final lap.
As I crested the hill one last time, I began lapping athletes on the inside line. That pushed me wider on the descent—onto wet grass. My foot slipped.
I fell—hard—on my shoulder. I heard a click and rolled onto my back, stunned. A few kind athletes checked on me. After a few moments, I got up slowly. My shoulder ached, but I thought it was just bruising. Only 1.5K to go, I’ve got this.
My pace slowed, allowing my legs to begin to recover; meanwhile, my shoulder pain worsened. I had this horrible, familiar feeling—like my shoulder might be dislocated, something I hadn’t felt since snowboarding nearly 20 years ago.
Still, I made it across the finish line. Sixth overall. Second in my age group. But all I could think about was my shoulder… and the looming World Championships just weeks away. Final Run: 38:30 (was on track for a high 36/37 low, faster than last year – after fall I finished ~45sec slower). Total: 2:04:38.
Aftermath – A Dream Shattered
I saw the on-site medical team briefly, then headed to Canberra Hospital’s ED. The doctor suspected a dislocation and ordered an X-ray. After a few hours of waiting, the result came in: a broken collarbone.
I couldn’t believe it.
Not only was it broken, but it would likely need surgery—shattering my hopes of racing at a home World Championships. I was devastated. The emotion bubbled up, and while I knew tears wouldn’t fix it, letting them fall helped me process what had just happened.
An orthopaedic specialist reviewed my case but was unsure whether to remove the existing plate and screws or replace them entirely. Another opinion was needed, and more hours passed. Then it hit me—I’m not from Canberra. I wasn’t going to have surgery here anyway. I asked to be discharged and finally left the hospital almost 7hrs after my arrival.
Learnings
Life Can Change in an Instant
That fall reminded me of a deeper truth.
I’d run up and down that hill five times—feeling strong, confident, focused. But it was on the sixth and final time that everything changed.
You never know what the next moment will bring.
That’s why I’ve always tried to live intentionally—never leaving without saying goodbye, never taking a day for granted. Life is unpredictable. And that’s why I believe it’s so important to be right with God.
As John 3:16 says:
“For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.”
In a world where plans can shatter in a second, that promise remains unshakable.
Copyright © Luke Jones
One Comment
Adam
Hi Luke,
I always enjoy your race reviews. I’m amazed that you have the focus of mind to take in these details while giving it your all. Speedy recovery my friend and I hope to see you out there in the up coming season.