Sprint Duathlon World Championships, 29 Apr 2023

Flying out to Ibiza three weeks before my final exams was kind of an insane decision, and over the last few weeks of revision stress, one I was lamenting. Now, on the other side of the race, I am so glad that I chose to come!

Having felt nervous about this race for the last 2 months, I was surprisingly calm once I arrived in Ibiza. Perhaps it had something to do with the awesome Oxford Tri team that I had surrounding me: Tina Christmann, David Pearson, and Oli Arscott, who, with their triathlon experience and good vibes made the race feel like it was just a bigger version of Eton Dorney!

I managed to get quite a good night of sleep beforehand and had done more than enough tapering for the event (I got a niggle in my knee 3 weeks ago so took some time off training). So, I felt well-rested for the day and ready to work hard. We had racked our bikes the day before – a quick affair because I had to run back to our apartment to do a tutorial (ever trying to get that work-triathlon balance)! I just needed to make a few additions to the bike in the morning, but these took a long time because my hands were shaking so much, I couldn’t even attach the pump to my valve! During the warmup I wasn’t feeling so hot - I felt like I needed the toilet constantly and my HR was high despite doing only some light intensity jogging and a few drills and strikes. I was losing my cool. “Calm down” I told myself and, as the 18-39 F group gathered in the start pen, I focused on my breathing, touching my thumb to each of my fingers individually as a point of focus.

Then the horn sounded, and we were racing. I had started near to the back of the pack, and I wish I had been a bit more assertive because I spent quite a lot of energy overtaking other runners towards the start of the 5K. Tim and I had discussed racing a relatively conservative 5k, around 4min/km, and that’s what I did. The course was 200m short, but I completed it in 19:26. I felt decent on the run, I knew I hadn’t blown it out of the park, but I had raced hard enough and still felt energised and ready to attack the bike.

I found my bike quickly in transition (phew), got my helmet on, kicked off my shoes and was off. The mount line was on an uphill, but I had committed myself to doing a flying mount, which I had been practicing sporadically for the last few months, and thankfully I executed it just as I had in practice. Those of you who have been at my recent races will know that this was a feat – the last two times I’ve attempted a flying mount during a race have been unsuccessful to say the least! On a high from my perfectly executed transition, I got my feet in the shoes, inhaled a gel and started picking off other riders.

As I was catching the girl just ahead of me, about 500m into the course, I was passed by Alice Sullivan. “Work with me” she shouted back as she sped past me, and I jumped onto her wheel. A little group formed behind us: 4 strong girls (3 Brits and 1 Italian), all in different age groups to me, and all working well together. This was the ideal situation for me, and the miles just flew by! We would each take 1–2-minute turns on the front and then the next person would come past. Dividing the work between us like this meant that the pace stayed hot and any solo riders that tried to get on our chaingang were dropped immediately. As I think back to this, I remember how similar this situation was to my first race, except that I was one of the solo riders who couldn’t get onto the wheels of the strong group. Being able to have those bursts of acceleration, where the power meter would show over 300W, to put myself in tactical positions within the group, is something I could only have dreamed of last year.

The course was busy, with the 40-45 men that set off after us passing us, and then being passed by us and so on, but we stuck in formation and communicated well and thankfully nothing hairy happened despite the number of cyclists on the road. The turning point was at the bottom of a descent and I was so busy trying to get into a good position for the 180 degree turn that I didn’t think about my gear choice at all. They had really coned off the road on the other side, so that only one cyclist could pass through at a time, meaning that I had to brake quite sharply to avoid a crash, and then was immediately onto the ascent. It took me a couple of seconds to get myself into the correct gear and by that point one of the girls in the group had gotten away. Luckily for me it seemed that the girls behind me had a similar issue and we all had a slow start as we ground up the first bit of hill in a too-high gear. The girl that had gone first was looking back and it was clear that she wasn’t wasting energy on a breakaway, so we caught her up and then resumed our chaingang. I was feeling really strong at this point, taking advantage of the moments where I could draft to flush some of the lactic acid out of my legs and then pushing hard when I was on the front. We were making good progress until about 1k from T2, where we came across a crash and had to slow considerably. Thankfully the whole group made it around without mishap but then we passed another crash/mechanical and had to slow again. By this point we were quite strung out and I had pulled back a bit to give myself some space to take off my shoes and get ready for T2.

T2 was smooth, with shouts of “Go, Miller!” from the crowd, and then I was onto the 2nd run. I had no idea where I was in terms of placing at this point, but apparently I was 5th. As I started the run, I knew this was going to be the most painful part - the sun was now high in the sky and the temperature was up to around 20°C - pretty hot for us Brits. I made use of the water station, taking a cup and pouring it over my head. I wasn’t feeling great, but I reminded myself that there was only 2.5km to run, and that I had such a great race, I wasn’t going to ruin it now. So even though every part of me was screaming “stop!”, I just reminded myself of my cadence and repeated the mantra that has helped me on run 2 this whole season – “just keep rolling”. I overtook the girls that I had cycled with, and then another 25-29 F, putting myself into 4th place (though I didn’t know this at the time). It hurt like hell, but I completed the run, boosted by the energy of the amazing crowd and the feeling I had as I caught and passed other people. I ran most of the run with a man in his 50s representing Mexico – I hope I am that fast at 50-something - but youth prevailed and I managed to out-sprint him along the final straight. I crossed the line, overjoyed! And then immediately threw up. (#classic) Turns out that I had only missed a podium spot by 21 seconds, so I have things to strive for in the coming years.

To be honest, I was initially sceptical about age-group racing. I now see why people do it: the atmosphere, the crowds, the diversity of nations (Europeans, South Africans, Australians, Mexicans, Americans), racing draft legal in the sunshine and being treated like a pro – all of that made for such a special event.

After the race, I’m on such a high. I feel like all the blood, sweat and occasional tears have really paid off. Although sometimes I feel frustrated at the sport or at myself for not progressing as fast as I would like: this kind of race, where everything just fits together and you do what you have to do, is a great reason to keep working. I couldn’t have done it without Tim’s help, so massive thanks to Tim and Catenary Coaching for getting me to the place I am today! I have a lot to work on (hello sub 19 5km), but I’m ready for it and really looking forward to the next chapter and the rest of the season.

Emilia Miller