48 hours: Multisport debs true sporting heroes

They came in all shapes and sizes at the women's fun triathlon along the Auckland waterfront yesterday.

Some were in their prime. Others had seen better days, much better days. There was young and old, short and tall, chunky and sleek. Some had their best paint job on, and others displayed years of wear.

And that was just the bikes.

On a sparkling Auckland day, the Okahu Bay Reserve was the place to be if you wanted to find some sporting heroes - rank and file citizens pushing their minds and bodies to the limit, and all in a spirit of camaraderie.

My interest centred on a friend who, with a bunch of mates, was competing in her first triathlon. Not that I got to see her in action. The chances are limited when there are 5000 in the field.

Here's her sporting profile.

Name: Barbara of Birkenhead.

Age: "Just Reaching My Prime."

Previous clubs: A few around High St, but it was a while ago.

Previous personal best: Walking to the local shops in under four minutes.

Recent form: Bringing up kids.

Favourite food: Chocolate cake.

Favourite sport: Going out when my husband's watching the Super 12.

Well that was her profile until four or five months ago, when Babs became gripped by "triathlon fever" and turned into Sportswoman.

She is not alone. There are reports all around town of dinner party conversations being hijacked by talk of training schedules and injury rehab.

It seems there is hardly anyone left in this metropolis who didn't know someone, or someone who knew someone, who was in training for the Special K triathlon.

A confession - Barbara is an assumed name, the reason being ...

I rang "Babs" on Saturday to ask, tongue in cheek, if she was carbo loading. She was, and with gusto.

After months of enduring a sports diet, she had cut loose in the name of instant energy.

"I've spent two days eating Wendy's and chocolate cake," she said. "But you can't put that in your column. My personal trainer would kill me." It's not just Sir Alex Ferguson who strikes fear into his charges. Personal trainers are genuinely scary people. So we cut a deal. She'd tell her story under a new identity so the bit about hamburgers and chocolate cake could be revealed.

Her story is undoubtedly typical of the many who gritted their teeth and did something they never thought they were capable of. The numbers 300 (metres swum), 10 (kilometres ridden) and three (kilometres run) will forever be triumphant reminders of this day.

These athletic ordinary folk may compete again, or they may not. Their new-found fitness may stay, or in the hurly burly of life it may go. But the fact that so many stuck to their training schedules, overcame fears and completed this race is what counted. It will build confidence, and open up new horizons.

As Barbara's husband revealed: "She couldn't run at all before this. The breakthrough day was when she came home and said she'd completed a run without walking at all."

The race itself held some disappointments. Under big-match pressure, planning fell away.

A gear lever on Barbara's bike had inadvertently been knocked, so while her feet were flailing away her prized piece of sporting equipment was not responding. She discovered the problem way too late, after her aunty and friendly rival had ridden into the distance.

"Someone yelled out at me, 'You're too fit for that bike'. I was just thinking, 'The bike's broken'," she said. "But I've got no excuses, I can't blame that," she added, talking like Tana Umaga. Bikes are a big issue. At last year's corresponding race in Wellington, a women was heartbroken to find she hadn't secured hers properly and had dragged it along the motorway on the way to the race venue. She was crushed, like the bike, although her team-mates rallied round and found a replacement.

There are also reports of women returning their bikes to shops after last year's Auckland race and explaining, in frustration, that they hadn't gone fast enough. While the organisers recommended sturdy machines, fearing a pack of novices on sleek tyres might be a touch dangerous, these newborn athletes had discovered the joy of speed and the agony of not going fast enough.

I can also report that one woman completed yesterday's race on a bike fitted with ape-hanger handlebars. Very retro.

As for race controversy, most of it centred on the transition area between the swim and bike legs.

"There are reports of lines of bicycles falling over domino style, bikes being trapped, and even worse ... cigarettes.

"I couldn't believe the number of people who lit up there," Babs said.

There were also accounts of excessive grooming, including a partner exasperated by the time his athlete spent drying between her toes as precious seconds ticked by.

The spirit of the race was everywhere to be seen, helped by the competitors having name tags.

"People would yell out support to each other by their names, even though they didn't know them," said Babs.

"Actually, I missed out. My name is a bit unusual. But all the Janes and Sues got lots of support."

Barbara's greatest pre-match fear was that she would end the race in a delirious state.

She was haunted by those Commonwealth Games images of roadwalker Craig Barrett, even though - like Barrett at the time - she didn't know who he was.

She needn't have worried, and appeared in prime health while nonchalantly hosting a post-race barbecue.

"It was hell during the race but all that training means you recover quickly," she said, eyeing up up a carbo replacement drink that appeared to have a vintage, hints of cut grass, and influences of American oak.

As the athletes and support crew mingled and swapped yarns, Barbara's husband - who was still struggling with the bike gear failure - was talking tough. He'd just learned to swim. Seems there are now two triathletes in the family.