A New Dictionary

Saturday morning dawned crisp and clear; not a wisp of cloud or fog in sight around Cambridge. A perfect day to be outdoors. What was not so perfect was the fact that my front derailleur decided to quit working. It was working fine on Friday night but for some unknown reason was now unable to shift chain rings. Dad stuck it in the big chain ring, where it will have to stay for the whole race. Oh well, the first cycle leg is predominantly flat, with a few undulations towards the end.

As I join over 100 cyclists assembled on the start line I am a little apprehensive. Never before have I ridden in the cold (5°C), on the flat, or in a bunch – let alone all three together. The start of the 32km cycle is signalled and bunches swiftly form. I settle near the back of a 15 strong bunch. Some of the feeling in my feet is missing due to the temperature. Gradually smaller bunches are hauled in and individuals are dropped off the back. After a while I struggle to retain my place in the bunch, but a couple of determined sprints see me sucked on the back again. Everything changes when we leave the flats. Partly due to training in the Waitakeres, and partly due to being stuck in my big chain ring, I sail past quite a few people. It feels great to overtake people! For a few minutes I take part in a well organised bunch, before it disintegrates when swallowing up another bunch. I thoroughly enjoy my first experience at riding in a cohesive bunch. At the top of the next hill a herd of cattle is being shifted down the road. Due caution is exercised to avoid the beasts and the worst of the bovine excrement.

At the cycle/kayak transition

Arriving at the run transition I was elated at having passed so many people. Heading up the road on foot was tough, but by the time the off-road section of the 15km run is reached my legs had accustomed themselves to running. Not much running is done though, as the track soon got too steep. However, hill climbing is my forte and I steadily hauled people in. The climb to the top of Maungatautari is higher than the highest point in the Waitakeres, so I knew it was going to be a long haul. In places it was necessary to haul yourself up on roots; someone commented that it was just as well we weren't coming down this way. Once on the top ridge we had to keep our eyes peeled for track markers as there were false trails going off in all directions. Two people managed to get completely lost on this section and ended up on the other side of the mountain! As I gained the summit, a couple of tramping parties informed me that I was the 6th woman to reach the top, including team runners, and 72nd overall. The downhill was mostly runable which was nice. Nowhere near as steep as what we had come up. I am fairly cautious downhill due to a propensity for rolling my ankles so, as was to be expected, on the descent the tables were turned and I was the one being overtaken. I was quite pleased that I managed to post the 3rd fastest run time for individual females. The last 3km down the tar-sealed road was the hardest part of the whole run course!

Starting the kayak leg

It was a relief to reach the cycle transition as my feet were protesting at the amount of pounding they had endured. Unfortunately this second cycle leg is hillier than the first - and my bike was still stuck in the big chain ring. My hammered legs struggled to reach the top of each rise. There were a couple of steep ones that I only just made it up, but walking was not an option for me. I was no longer trying to go as fast as possible; I was just trying to keep going. 2km from the end, an AWOL arrow meant I rode an extra 18 km - turning it into a 30 km cycle instead of a mere 12km! This extra hour of cycling severely depleted my energy reserves.

Halfway down the paddle

By the time the kayak is reached I have just about had enough. The 9 km paddle down Lake Karapiro is straightforward enough, but my body is tired from the extra cycling. From several places along the bank support crews shout encouragement, and I slowly gain on Rudy Baptist's team but don't quite manage to catch them. On reaching the landing there is one last sprint up the hill to the finish line and the cheering crowd.

Defeat is not the worst of failures.
Not to have tried is the true failure.

~ George Edward Woodberry

Be thankful that you don't already have everything you desire.
If you did, what would there be to look forward to?

Be thankful when you don't know something,
For it gives you the opportunity to learn.

Be thankful for the difficult times.
During those times you grow.

Be thankful for your limitations,
Because they give you opportunities for improvement.

Be thankful for each new challenge,
Because it will build your strength and character.

Be thankful for your mistakes.
They will teach you valuable lessons.

Be thankful when you're tired and weary,
Because it means you've made a difference.

It's easy to be thankful for the good things. A life of rich fulfillment comes to those who are also thankful for the setbacks.

Gratitude can turn a negative into a positive. Find a way to be thankful for your troubles, and they can become your blessings.

Despite popular misconception, a properly tied knot is generally distinguished by its simplicity and the ease with which it can be untied, not by its strength or complexity.

But which is really the BEST knot?
A true landlubber's question, but one that is inevitably raised. The correct answer should be the responsible - albeit boring - "It depends." Are you knotting together sheets for an open-air exit from a burning hotel? Or are you tying up your hair?

But let's say you've really only got room for two or three knots in your long-term memory files. If such were the case, I could be forced to recommend the bowline, the sheet bend, and the clove hitch. These three are the cream of the three primary knot categories - loop knots, rope-to-rope knots (bends), and rope-to-something else knots (hitches). Between them, they should get you into most binds.

Incidentally, the opposite question, "Which is really the worst knot?" is far simpler to answer. As disillusioning as this sounds, it's the reef (square) knot, the most over-hyped, under-strength knot in creation. Knot expert Clifford Ashley states that the reef knot ". . . Has probably been responsible for more deaths and injuries than all other knots combined."

The reason is that the reef knot 'capsizes', i.e. it unties itself. A couple of quick tugs on the rope, or an inadvertent bump, and the honest square knot turns into thin air, an unhappy result that demonstrates the difference between a 'strong' knot, one that weakens the rope the least, and a 'secure' knot, one that resists unraveling. In the normal course of things, it's security that'll carry the day, not 'strength.

Adapted from 'The Klutz Book of Knots' by John Cassidy.

The event is comprised of a tough 42 km cycle, 2 km run, 10 km kayak, and 10 km run. I finished in a time of 4:16:20 to take out the junior women's division.

Where can a man buy a cap for his knee?
Or the key to a lock of his hair?
Should your eyes be called an academy
Because there are pupils there?

Is the crown of your head where jewels are found?
Who travels the bridge of your nose?
If you wanted to shingle the roof of your mouth
Could you use the nails in your toes?

Can you sit in the shade of the palm of your hand?
Or beat on the drum in your ear?
Can the calf of your leg eat the corn off your toe?
Then why not grow corn on the ear?

Can the crook in your elbow be sent to jail?
If so, what did he do?
How can you sharpen your shoulder blades?
I‘ll be darned if I know, do you?

~ William Dunkle