10 May 2010


Below is one of my triathlon student’s (CP’s) race report on his 2010 Honolulu Triathlon (unabridged by me Prince):

My poodle coach Prince was not in Honolulu. He remained in Tokyo, as he put it: “ to work with his publisher on his advanced triathlon theory book: “THE PRINCE: PUPPY to DEMIGOD.” I thought this was a good thing as am totally sick of this poodle, especially his moping around the house all day, pontificating about finishing his book, a book I have seen only 270 scrappy words of in a year (this fragment was the one the poodle posted on his webpage titled “Lazy Bastards”). Ironically it is he the idle Poodle who sleeps all day, every day, while I go to office for 9 hours and when I return the poodle has not once even emptied the dishwasher. He has never, not even once gone to the supermarket. His so called caveman diet has increasingly centered on Mignon based steak tartar, the finest cuts of fatty tuna sashimi, and he eats truffles whole as if cherry tomatoes. The diet is a financial burden indeed. He is so selfish.

Anyhow, unfortunately and ironically, without this troublesome celebrity poodle who acts as my personal Director of Triathlon, my pre-race day preparation became a poodle's breakfast of stresses in exotic Honolulu. My CO2 air capsules for race punctures were grabbed by Hawaiian natives at the airport who said they were subversive but who later used for themselves as necklace beads. While vexed by a missing titanium bike nut (which also probably became a bead), I was induced into a chocolate covered Macedonia nut binge. All this culminated in a bloody and nasty bicycle collision with a 7 year old skateboarding punk who’s sister threatened to put a screwdriver through my neck. Portrait above left is masterpiece titled “Death of Captain Cook on Honolulu Waikiki Beach”. Incidentally he was attacked while trading beads.

I started the race in a state of Macedonian nut bloatation, and a little pain, for my bandaged skateboarder wounds rubbed against a tighter than usual wetsuit. My instructions from Prince were swim sprint 300M from beach-start and draft off a pack of faster swimmers. “Use all means necessary to get to that pack including angle biting, ducking, kicking and spitting” the poodle ordered. My girlfriend, Nene’s instructions were to the contrary: “enjoy the swim, count how many types of colored fish you can spot and I will pass you a cup of tea and a biscuit in the bike transition area.” My race anticipation was confused to say the least, and visibility was poor, I panicked in the dark water. There were no fish, but around 700 giant sting ray-esque flapping bodies, kicking and punching me in pitch dark brown water. I recalled the national funeral of the hero akin to the great Captain Cook, Steve Irwin who was slain by a stingray. I started hyperventilating. Should I leave the race? I treaded water and yoga breathed for some minutes. It was then the Poodle spoke his mantra to me: “USE THE BITE…USE THE BITE”….

I bite the water, I bite feet, I felt I was swallowing some of those giant Stingrays after biting them as well. I started swimming very well. From there on, there is little I can remember, but I did bite-up some insects on the bike as well, which one does when averaging 39km an hour. Overall was 2 hours and 24 mins.

1.5k Swim: 30 mins

40 k Bike: 1 hour and 5 mins

10 K Run: 44 mins.
A Nice PB and thanks super Coach Prince for the matra! More on race mind games and use of Prince Mantras tailored to any sporting difficulty to be released in Prince's new book.

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