Racing for the family

For the 10 years I’ve raced triathlons so far, I have only twice had the chance to have my dad with me to support and for him to geek-out on bikes in transition.

But although I know my mum was scared like anything to know I was racing long distance, she had never seen me at a race, even a small one.

Mostly, this was because I was racing abroad, chasing a race everyone dreams of racing one day…

This year, I finally took an entry in the local triathlon in Cherbourg, which happened to also be the Normandy Olympic distance championship. The goal was to have fun: survive the swim, blitz the bike leg, and see what my injured ankle would do over 10K.

Never mind the crazy cramps after the swim, the 4th overall bike time, or the 40' 10K that I had not dreamt of being close to in the last year; this was all about the family!

And they didn’t disappoint! Under the expert cheerleading guidance of one of my best friends, Annie, everyone (especially the kids) was so loud, that it really made me feel like triathlon royalty! Other spectators sure seemed to wonder who I was, and even the commentator at the finish line acknowledged them.

And after an emotionally very tough end to my race in Kona, this trumped everything. Forget about that silly long race on a remote island in the middle of the pacific. It was an amazing achievement, but in the grand scheme of things, it can’t even begin to compare with racing in front of a cheering family who pushes you in your silly hobby.