You Don’t Have to be Fast
Triathlon for Everyday Women
If you've ever hesitated to start a new fitness goal because you thought you weren't "fast enough" or "fit enough," this post is for you. Starting isn't about speed or skill - it's about showing up for yourself.
Why Speed Doesn't Matter When You Start
The triathlon world can feel VERY intimidating, especially if you're a woman over forty who considers a brisk walk to the kettle a proper warm-up. It's a sport dominated by men in Lycra who look like they have spent their life in a gym.
When I first started looking into triathlon, I made the mistake of watching YouTube videos of professional races. Big error. These people swam effortlessly, cycled at lightning speed, and ran like gazelles.
But here's the thing everyone forgets to mention, everyone starts somewhere. Even those speedy types were once beginners who couldn't tell the difference between a wetsuit and a bin bag, who fell off their bikes in front of crowds, who thought a "brick session" was some kind of construction work.
You don't have to be the fastest swimmer or the strongest cyclist. You don't need to have been athletic your whole life or have legs like a racehorse. You just have to be brave enough to begin, stupid enough to sign up, and stubborn enough to see it through.
My Slow and Steady Approach
When I started training at 51, I could swim but I had my own unique style, my bike came out of the shed once a year. And my running? Well, it was something that I used to love but not anymore.
I often compared myself to others and thought, "I'll never keep up with these proper athletes. But what got me through was finally focusing on my own progress, not their pace. Revolutionary concept, I know! Instead of comparing myself to the guys in the fast lane, I started celebrating being able to swim without stopping. Instead of feeling inadequate next to cyclists who could fly passed me while talking to their mate, I was chuffed when I managed to cycle 10k without falling off. Wearing cleats was a major fear I had to overcome.
I was doing this for me, not to impress anyone else or win any speed competitions. My goal wasn't to break records - it was to prove I could do something that scared me senseless and, just maybe, find a version of myself I'd forgotten existed.
Embracing Being the Sunday Driver
Do you know what? Being slow has its advantages, and I mean proper advantages, not just consolation prizes. I got to enjoy the scenery during races while everyone else was too busy suffering to notice they were cycling through gorgeous countryside. I had proper conversations with volunteers at aid stations instead of just grabbing water and sprinting off like a woman possessed.
There's a beautiful camaraderie among us back-of-the-pack warriors. We cheer each other on, share energy gels when someone's bonking, and celebrate every small victory like we've just won an Olympic gold.
There's something wonderfully liberating about accepting you're not going to win anything except maybe "most enthusiastic participant". Once you let go of speed expectations, you can focus on the real achievement: finishing what you started, proving you're tougher than you thought, and having a bloody good time doing it.
The pressure disappears when you realize you're not competing against anyone but yesterday's version of yourself. Suddenly, every session becomes about personal bests rather than comparing yourself to people who've been doing this for decades.
Building Confidence Through Showing Up
Progress isn't measured by speed alone. It's measured by consistency, commitment, and the resilience to keep going when your body is screaming "what the actual hell are we doing?" and your brain is listing a hundred reasons why staying in bed would be more sensible.
It's about showing up on cold, dark mornings when every sensible person is still snuggled up in bed, when the pool looks about as inviting as a cold bath, when the bike ride ahead feels like climbing Everest on two wheels. It's about doing the thing even when you don't feel like it, especially when you don't feel like it.
Every training session where I didn't give up was a victory. Every time I got in that freezing pool was proof, I was tougher than I thought. Every bike ride where I didn't fall off was basically an Olympic achievement in my book. Every extra mile I ran was cause for celebration.
The confidence doesn't come from being fast - it comes from being true to yourself, to your goals, to your commitment to try something that scares you. That confidence spills over into every other area of your life because you've proved you can do hard things, even when they take you twice as long as everyone else.
How Slow Became My Superpower
Crossing the finish line with my daughter wasn't about getting a podium place - we had our own race to win. We weren't there to set course records or impress anyone with our athletic prowess. We were there to prove that ordinary women can do extraordinary things.
Being slow taught me patience, persistence, and the ability to find joy in small improvements. When you're not focused on beating others, you can celebrate every personal victory: swimming an extra fifty meters without stopping, cycling up that hill without getting off to push, running for five minutes without your lungs staging a revolt.
My slowness became my strength because it meant I never gave up. Fast people sometimes quit when they're having an off day because they're used to things coming easily. Slow people? We're used to everything being hard work, so we just keep plodding, one stroke, one pedal, one step at a time.
So don't wait for "fast enough" or "perfect" conditions. Start where you are, with what you've got, at whatever speed feels right for you.
You don't have to be fast. You just have to start. And trust me, slow and steady really can win the race, or at least finish it with a massive smile, a few new friends, and the best post race cake of your life.
Want some inspiration for your own slow and steady journey? Read Stronger Every Mile and take your first step today - even if it's more of a cautious shuffle!