After 45 miles of cycling up and down hills I was broken. I dropped down into my lowest gear to begin the slow grind up a beast of a hill I’d already climbed once more than two hours before, and I began to cry. It wasn’t just tears but big fat sobs coming out of me. I didn’t want to do it anymore.

The race had begun shortly after 8am as a cannon fired and 300 competitors swam out into a lake for the 1.9km swim leg of The Gauntlet half-iron distance triathlon. We’d follow this with a 56 mile cycle and a 13.1 mile run.

The lake was nice and wide and we had plenty of space to swim without bashing into each other. All the same I’d started at the back slightly after the cannon fired – because I knew my place and wasn’t in any rush to get started.

After 200 meters something unusual happened, I caught up some of the other swimmers and had to start overtaking – this was uncharted territory. After 750 meters we headed back on ourselves before swimming right down a channel. The channel went round an island where spectators were dotted about watching from the banks. I’m used to swimming in a wiggly line but usually when I should be going straight. Navigating the winding channel did make it interesting and different to your usual out and back swim. We swam under a bridge where spectators were looking down waving at us before turning one last corner that saw us heading back to the swim start/exit.

I set a new record for slowest transition ever taking more than 8 minutes to get my wetsuit off and climb onto my bike. It was a combination of cold hands that didn’t work properly and a reluctance to start cycling. We ambled through the first few miles over some rolling hills with a few cyclists passing me, but before long I was on my own again.

Luckily I’d come prepared with some mental games to play and lots of snacks to busy myself working through. Though timing my picnic to coincide with the downhills became a game in itself.

The highest point of the course was halfway on the bike course, and we’d do two loops. As I emerged from some trees to see the peak on the first loop I felt good that it hadn’t been as hard as I thought it might be. The feeling was short-lived as the second half of the loop had two killer hills that seemed to go on forever.

Not long after the second steep hill, the Olympic distance triathletes joined us as our courses merged. It was nice to be among other competitors, but after a while I got fed up of them all overtaking me with such ease. We headed back to the castle to start the second loop and before long our routes went off in different directions.

As I began the last major climb of the day I started crying. I was tired, I was sore and, although I knew I was going to finish the bike leg, I wasn’t relishing the thought of spending more than two hours running once I climbed off my bike. I cried for the last 10 miles of the bike course, but I didn’t stop.

Climbing off the bike and racking it in transition was a relief. I ran over to a friend supporting for a hug and sobbed ‘I don’t want to do it’. There was no doubt, though, that I could do it and that I would. Cap and running shoes on I headed out for the first of two laps of the run.

The run was largely trail and, like the bike, peppered with hills. I marched up the hills and ran the rest, and before long I started to enjoy myself. My legs had remembered how to run and my brain had remembered that it likes running. We ran through fields, past a pub where the aid station was fully stocked with everything you could hope to eat, past another castle and past lots of cheery marshals.

I began overtaking people and once we go onto the second leg I was happily sprinting down hills, running across the flat and marching up the hills. With 3km to go I saw two women about 400 meters ahead of me and made it my mission to pass them. I ran past them with 1.5km left to go and I could hear the finish line in the distance. I marched up one last, gravely hill and flung myself down the other side towards the finish line. I’d finished my half-iron triathlon with a smile on my face.

Thank you to the Castle Triathlon Series for giving me my entry to this race. Despite the tears. And thanks to all the lovely marshals.