Lost Sheep 2025

To paraphrase Forest Gump, we cycled “through every kind of rain there is. Little bitty stingin' rain... and big ol' fat rain. Rain that flew in sideways. And sometimes rain even seemed to come straight up from underneath.” After consecutive years of high temperatures and clear skies, there was a general expectation of more adverse weather conditions for the 2025 Lost Sheep Triathlon. Cycling up the final climb with water bursting from every crack and crevice in the rocks that shrouded the road, deafened by the noise of rain as it pounded my helmet, it was clear that this was beyond expectation, this was biblical. 

And it started so well. Still calm waters greeted us as we entered transition on race morning. Bad weather was expected, and the fact that the swim was going to go ahead was contentious. Entering the water and beginning my swim I felt optimistic. 1.9 Kilometres later, exiting the water, it was clear we were in for a wet day. I had to wrestle my bike out of transition as the wind attempted to drag it into the sea. When I finally mounted, I hunkered down and began cycling. I fought against the wind, fought against the uphill climbs, and fought the wet slippery surface on the descents. When I passed people or they passed me I would glimpse the wheels of their bike from the corner of my eye, not willing to raise my head . If they greeted me I couldn’t hear it, the wind howled and the rain pettled my helmet. At one point a marshall on a motorbike drove up beside me and warned me for drafting, there was no one around, I was going uphill, and facing a headwind, I just laughed. When I was finally back at transition, I was glad to get off the bike and unclench. Everything was sore and stiff, I needed to get running, to get warm. 

When I began running it felt as if I was running on stumps, my feet were so wet and cold that they were numb. I tried my best to maintain a strong pace, but the sensation made every movement difficult. It was still raining but I no longer noticed, I was consumed and confused by the numb feet. It took nine kilometres for the sensation to finally ease and I could start running correctly, meaning despite the steep hills in the second section of the half marathon I completed it in the same time as the first. 

But I completed it. On a day like this all that matters is that I completed it. Soaking wet, tired, and done.