There are several benefits to being a slow triathlete. For starters you don’t have to worry about storming in and out of transition and getting on your bike the wrong way round. Taking your time to sit down to dry your feet and put your socks on (possibly even having a wee while you’re sat on the grass) is unlikely to make any difference at all to your finish time.

You get to talk to the cheery marshals and stewards. This includes the one in a canoe who is your own personal chaperone as you’re the ‘last lady’. This is much like the position of First Lady only better because you earnt it entirely on your own merit and not because you happen to be married to the President. Also you get to wear a lovely gender stereotyped pink swim hat. Take that Michelle Obama.As I swam along the Thames, careful to heed my mum’s advice and ‘stay out of the shallows’ my chaperone said: “nearly at the turn and then the river will take you back.” I put my face down and decided ‘no more rests until the turn’, and then no more rests full stop. Before I knew it 1500m had gushed by and I’d managed not to get elbowed or kicked by any other swimmers.

I was hauled out of the water by two more marshals – no waiting in line for me like the speedsters the other end of the race. I sat on the bank for a moment and had another little chat “how was that?”, “oh, not too bad in the second half, took me a while to get going thought”, ” want me to unzip your wetsuit”, “yes please”. And off I went.

I got on my bike and started making my way through my picnic of six fig rolls, two Snickers bars and a bottle of some sugary concoction. I peddled along with nobody around to hear me swearing loudly at 1) the wind in my face 2) the potholey road 3) the hills. Another bonus.

I got to around 6 miles and saw Katie speeding in the other direction and calling out her encouragement. Another half hour of playing a game called ‘Where’s the turnaround, Where’s the turnaround, wherestheturnaround?’ followed and then I was half way through the triathlon.

It was soon time for the run, and I do like a nice run. Turns out though that running after 1500m of swimming and 24 miles of cycling doesn’t fall into the category of ‘nice’. But this was the only part of the event that I could legitimately call a ‘race’.

No matter how slow you’re going, seeing the hobbling figure of a man from the wave ahead just a couple of hundred meters in front of you is something that will always get the legs pumping a bit faster. I overtook a man, then I overtook another man. I pondered for a while: is the reason I haven’t overtaken any women due to the small size of the field in relation to the men or because women generally haven’t embraced triathlon as something to ‘just have a go at’ in the same way that men have?

That train of thought was interrupted by the sight of a woman ahead of me. The only woman I’d seen all race that wasn’t going the opposite direction to me. I overtook her with 400m to go, offering my encouragement as I went past. Somebody has to come last. But today at least, it wouldn’t be me.

Total time 3 hours 32 minutes.

Thanks to the cheery marshals and officials at Marlow triathlon. And thanks for waiting around for me to finish.