First Person: Mind Over Matter in My First Triathlon

The 2024 World Triathlon Cup brought together the world’s top triathletes to battle changing tides, scorching temperatures, and a compact race course in Hong Kong. Natasha Tang recounts her first triathlon experience.

“I am way over my head,” I thought as yet another rogue wave crashed into me. After barely one minute of being pummeled by waves coming from opposing currents, my energy was draining away almost as quickly as my morale. My mind toggled between pushing forward and giving up—and that’s when it dawned on me—the real challenge wasn’t going to be physical; it was going to be mental.

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The World Triathlon Cup’s Age Group races followed those of the elite athletes representing their countries. While I had been happy competing in 25km (15 miles) trail races thus far, a hint of masochism—or perhaps just plain ambition—led me to sign up for my first Sprint Triathlon. Spanning three disciplines that I mastered well enough but certainly did not excel in, the triathlon consisted of a 750m swim in Victoria Harbour, followed by 20km of cycling and finishing with a 5km run.  

I naively believed that two and a half months would be enough time for me to train, as I was already cycling 18km (11 miles) every week, and running every other day. For my weekly triathlon training, I added three swimming sessions and two brick training sessions—swim-to-bike and bike-to-run—to get my muscles used to switching from one discipline to another.

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On D-day, I walked towards the start of the race, mentally running through the many triathlon rules in my head to avoid getting disqualified over a mere mistake. I felt good, albeit nervous, and aimed to finish in one and a half hours, assuming all went well.

All did not go well.

While beelining for the buoy, the nearby competitors’ arms quickly interrupted my strokes and concentration. Even worse, the changing sea conditions had created irregular waves, and I soon lost my rhythm. Panic rose as I struggled to breathe. Already exhausted, I stopped to catch my breath, trying to ignore the sinking feeling as others passed me. A mental game of tug of war ensued. Should I give up? But I’m an athlete; I can do this. Why aren’t others struggling? I can’t give up now—everyone is watching. 

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I convinced myself to take it slow and pretend that I was training at my favorite beach. Once I emerged from the water, my relief soon turned to dread as my legs felt like gelatin. How could I possibly go through two more sports? Yet, I pushed my way to the transition area. On my bike, the sound of my heart pounding slowly subsided, replaced by the rhythmic counting of my laps—leaving me in a meditative trance and in control again.

A quick shoe change and off I ran for my 5K. The end was imminent, yet that day happened to be the hottest March day since the 1800s. The concrete was sizzling and not a single gust of wind could be felt. Angst washed over me once again, as I tend to overheat easily. I was also confused, as I felt like I was running lopsided and my steps lacked power and stability. It was as if I had never run before.

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The idea of taking a little break loomed over me, but I knew well enough that stopping would mean I wouldn’t start again. I turned to diaphragmatic breathing—which brings oxygen into the brain and muscles and reduces the likelihood of stitches—and let my mind take control. I acknowledged its power and completely surrendered, allowing it to grow in resilience and confidence.

Soon enough, I passed the finish line and my sense of accomplishment trumped whatever physical exhaustion I felt. I had somehow managed to beat the time I had set for myself.

Looking back, I realize that I should have trained longer, especially in swimming. But more than just physical training, I wish I had put myself in more realistic or uncomfortable situations to challenge my will to carry on. It’s extremely humbling to see how powerful your mind can be even when your body is falling apart. My respect for triathletes has increased tenfold.