Training for a triathlon: Pain, pride and the pursuit of not passing out

I feel like once you hit 30, the world and all your friends in it conspire to murder you.
Good-naturedly, through wellness challenges, they will invite you to a 12-hour Mt Kenya summit, something that takes younger people three days to do.
They will ask you to do Mt Kilimanjaro in 24 hours, something that takes six days.
They will tell you of how Mt Kilimanjaro is kinder on the knees, more scenic. You will categorically decline the offer to torture yourself away from home grounds, no matter how scenic the route.
Then they will drag you to CrossFit. You will sign up for Hyrox.
They will cite numerous health benefits as the reason behind their extreme athleticism. You might be able to refute that.
But when they ask you to team up on a triathlon. You will agree. Practice, almost die, keep practising, then compete, and still almost die.
But you will be hooked. Looking for the next triathlon, and training not just to compete in one category but the entire hog.
Signing own death sentence
This is my confession. I signed up for my first triathlon with the enthusiasm of a toddler seeing cake. Swim, bike, run, how hard could it be?
Turns out, pretty hard when your cardio base is built on walking to the fridge and back. As race day crept closer, reality hit: I wasn’t ready.
So instead of racing, I watched. And somewhere between cheering for strangers and fighting FOMO, I made a promise, I’ll be on that starting line come December.
And this time, I’ll be ready.
Since then, training has gone from optional to obsessive.
Mornings start with a swim, slow, steady laps that build breath control and confidence.
Cycling has become my moving meditation and my greatest butt-hurt.
Running? It makes me want to cry, but I do it anyway.
And since misery loves company, I would like you to join me on this side of obsessive fitness, otherwise known as Trifit.
Here are tips to start you off.
Gear up
The right gear is the first major part of being a triathlete. Get proper running shoes, bike shoes, a good bike, a swimming cap, swim goggles, and a good swimming costume (a bikini just won’t do).
Wear them during practice so that all you have to concentrate on, come race day, is winning.
Train the transitions
Practice makes perfect. So practice. The race isn’t just swim, bike, run. It’s swim, freak out, find your bike, forget your shoes, run.
Practice your transitions like a pro.
Lay your gear out like it’s a military op, and rehearse getting in and out quickly.
But if you are running a relay, I suppose you do not need this, you lucky human.
Bring your cheer squad
Whether you are doing the triathlon alone or as part of a team, have your cheer squad ready.
They will help boost your morale when your body and mind are about to give in.
Lube is love
Anti-chafing balm, baby oil, sunscreen, whatever works, apply it everywhere.
Underarms, thighs, neck (wetsuit burn is real). Trust me, future-you doesn’t want to learn this lesson the painful way.
Get comfortable being uncomfortable
That moment when you’re tired, wet, and mildly hallucinating? Normal. Push through.
Triathlon is about managing discomfort while still performing. So embrace the grind, and you’ll find your groove.
Don’t try anything new on race day
No new shoes. No new gels. No “cool” new tri-suit from an Instagram ad.
Stick to what you’ve trained with; race day is not the time for gastrointestinal experiments.
Know the course
Preview the course map. Know where the hills are, the turns, the water stations.
Nothing throws you off more than thinking you’re on the final kilometre and realising you’re not.
Fuel early, fuel smart
If you’re hungry, it’s already too late.
Start fueling within the first 20 minutes on the bike, small bites, easy-to-digest carbs.
Sip, chew, keep going. If not, practice doing the triathlon on pre-workout to learn what your body needs.
This ensures you can finish the race without fainting midway.
Mental mantras matter
Mental mantras are not for the weak. They are for the strong. And on race day, you need everything you’ve got to win.
So pick a phrase. “Strong legs, calm mind.” “Breathe and believe.” “I paid for this.”
Repeat it when your body’s quitting but your will is not. It works.
Smile for the camera
Even if you’re dying inside, smile for the camera. Especially then. No one needs to know you cried at kilometre 8.
Smile as you cross that finish line. You will feel so proud once you see how great the photo looks versus the pain you were in at the moment.
Immortalise the glory, not the pain. And probably, you will be back for more of the glory and the triathlon pain. Over and over again.