Amateur mistakes: don't make them and you'll swim, bike and run through your first triathlon with ease.
Last weekend was my very first tri and I can say right now it won't be my last - it was great.
The second race of the five-part Active QT series was held at Jacks Point on Saturday and upon arrival I was intimidated by the hectares of Lycra I could see all around me.
That was probably my first amateur mistake - I and my friend, whom I had encouraged to enter, were just wearing Speedos.
The mountains surrounding Queenstown got a dumping of snow the night before, so tiny Lake Tewa at Jacks Point was a bit on the cold side and I was turning blue even before the race began.
Aside from my highlighter skin, I made it through the 750m swim and led from behind, just like any modest "triathlete" should.
If I had to pick my favourite part of doing a triathlon, it would be the excitement of the exchanges.
My friend and I left the water at the same time, so even throwing on some clothes and gym shoes turned into a race.
Don't worry about drying off - it was on with the shorts, T-shirt and helmet, a liquorice strap for the road and on to my bike. This turned out to be my second amateur mistake of the day.
Again, my friend and I were in the group of only three who brought along a mountain bike rather than a road bike for the 20km bike around a sealed Jacks Point road.
This, I'm sure, would have set us back and been the difference between closing in on some of the Lycra mentioned earlier.
At this moment it began to pour with rain and the wind began to blow in our faces - making me feel like a real, hearty cyclist.
The bike ride was definitely the hardest of the three legs and I didn't make it any easier by going past the halfway point because the sign that read "1/2 turnaround" wasn't quite clear enough for this "competitor".
Also, I wasn't clear on the fact we had to do two laps of the course and got an unwelcome message from one of the officials I had in fact only done 10km and not 20km.
After the bike, the 5km run was a breeze and because I couldn't feel my legs and my feet were numb, the hills made no difference whatsoever.
About 500m from the finish I was creeping up on one woman I named Miss Purple (the colour of her shoes and singlet). She peered over her shoulder and we both decided on a silent race finish - a bit like Carter and Docherty at the 2004 Athens Olympics.
Anyhow, Miss Purple left me in her dust and I finished up with my own personal best.
A good sport would reveal their time, but I'll wait until I am actually "good" at it.
