I could tell you about my broken seat post clamp, the Olympic medalist I raced, or how I had good legs on the run. I could tell you about how my power meter didn’t work, how fantastic the course was, or about the police officer who cheered me on by name every time I passed him on the run course. I could tell you about the 80km/hr winds on the night before the race, how friendly the locals were, or how great the organization was. It was all part of Cascais 70.3 but I walked away with a different perspective.
Cascais 70.3 started four months ago for me. Between May and August it’s was a constant assault of small issues. From illness, small nagging injuries, my bike set up, cancelling races and DNF-ing, to having no internet, no washing machine, and a shower with a maximum of 5 minutes of hot water, it all built up and made it a rough few months. Being an athlete means I have a deep well of optimism but even I had my moments.
When I crossed the finish line, I knew my problems hadn’t magically disappeared but it was like I got to peek over the wall. I got a glimpse of my old self and my possible self and it was just what I needed to top up my well of optimism. It may be the end of the year for most people but I feel like my season is just beginning.