Gamagori

Evening friends, this edition of the blog is brought to you by the free wifi at Hong Kong airport, and also the neighboring coffee shop owner, whose kids I have just put through college by procuring vast quantities of espresso. I’m currently whiling away a few idle hours in transit to where I join some Aussie comrades is Aix Les Bains (See here for an Aix synopsis), and am currently dividing my time between a little blogging, sampling caffeinated beverages, and observing the middle aged gentleman to my left read a comic book that he seems far to old for, loudly snort mucus through his nose, seemingly oblivious to my acrimonious eyebrow-raises. 

I’ve just departed from Gamagori, Japan, or ‘Where Robbo did THAT race’. Anyone with more than a trifling interest in triathlons who does not know of Robbo’s exploits in 2005 should make it a priority to familiarise themselves on this piece of triathlon history post-haste. Fittingly, Robbo himself was present as part of the coaching staff this time round, as the race formed part of a junior tour for some of the talented youngsters making up the future of Australian triathlon. 

Excuse me whilst I make an exaggerated stare at Nose Snorter, and let out a distinctly audible sigh. No reaction, he turns another page on the comic book, which features a large elephant holding a trumpet of some description. 

Gamagori was my long awaited return to racing for 2012, and I managed to kick things off with a win. The race went pretty well, I managed to lead out of the water with fellow Aussie and all-round-good-guy Shane Barrie, and we were soon joined by 2 others, including fellow Aussie, training partner, and all-round-good-guy Mitch Kealey. Unfortunately my compatriots drifted back to the main pack, which left me with Irish youngster, and all-round-good-guy Ben Shaw, for most of the 40 kms. After pulling solid turns with Ben, a cheeky late attack had me heading in to T2 with 30 secs on Ben, and a ‘handy’ 4 mins on the rest of the field, allowing me to ease my very green running legs back into the less-than-benevolent eventuality of running 10 kms in 35 degree heat. 

Nose Snorter has just let rip another cracker. Unless he is dictating sound effects from his comic book ‘MucusMan’ to an unseen deaf friend, I’m going to have to get a little more blatant with this guy. This time I raise my eyebrows and frown. My social cannonade is again repelled by his wall of ignorance. 

It was a pleasure to be back racing, although it took a moments rumination to get the order of the disciplines correct, although some may argue that 2 minute transition runs was worthy of calling this race a swim/run/bike/run/run. From here, it’s a few more weeks of training in France, hopefully moving the running legs from ‘not running out of sight on a dark night’ to at least, ‘getting a little difficult to see on a dull evening’.

That’s it, I’ve clearly just mimicked Nose Snorter, letting rip a snort that rivals the 747’s warming up to my left. Once again, he feigns incomprehension. I’ve had a gutfull, time to relocate next to the screaming baby…

Take care friends,

Willy