This is an article by invitation. Corina Van Dam, or Cocky as she is popularly known in Mumbai, is a football coach, a long distance runner and a triathlete. She has participated in a number of races and triathlons across India. She has also taken part in endurance swimming events. She was recently at the Vinfast Ironman 70.3 World Championship 2023 at Lahti in Finland. Here, she writes about her experience at the event.

As age category winner in Ironman 70.3 Goa in 2022, I was eligible to register for the Vinfast Ironman 70.3 World Championship 2023 in Lahti, Finland. I dreamt of participating in a world championship when I was a young girl but never thought that this dream would come true at the age of 58…!

My development from athlete to triathlete has been an organic one. I have always loved sports and through the years (and the accumulation of age) I had increasingly started loving the volume of work-outs rather than the intensity. The longer a practice or race, the more interesting I found it to be. However, in order to not finish last in the world championship (which was my goal!), I had to increase the intensity of my workouts and speed / pace in the different elements. To cut a long story short…, though I had an excellent cycling coach in Abishek Avhad, I had not been able to cut a substantial chunk of my race time when it mattered. But the success that I celebrate is that I finished as nr. 141 out of 161 in my age category (mission accomplished!).  And although I feel a bit ashamed that `my fans’ celebrate me as if I am the world champion, I am proud that I have been able to finish in a world championship surrounded by excellent athletes while enjoying the event to the fullest.

The challenges that I had to overcome prior to the race, were ‘swimming in a wetsuit’ and the thought of swimming in ‘cold water.’ With my Ironman (IM) travel mate Ritesh Thakkar, I took advantage of the public open water swimming spaces in Helsinki, where residents of the city dip in the water for their morning swim. I was so relieved when the water appeared to be ‘only’ 19.5 degrees Celsius cold. The Ironman practice swim in Lahti gave me the confidence that I would manage this leg. It seemed easy: no loops, no mass start, buoys with numbers and a finish line that could be seen from a distance. However, I was seriously intimidated by all those athletic bodies in shiny black wetsuits. The three women from Singapore said to me what I thought of every other athlete present: “ We hope you’re not in our age category…!’’  I received another shock during the bike check-in, the day before the race. While I checked the simplest Scott road-bike in, the poor thing was surrounded in Transition 1 (T1) by equipment from a different family: TT bicycles, carbon frames with disk wheels, aerodynamic helmets….

As we were commuting from Helsinki to Lahti by train, we tried to do as many of the activities on the day of our registration, such as the welcome dinner and the Parade of Nations, so that we could meet other participants. I represented the Netherlands and I joined the group of Dutch people lining up behind the red-white-blue flag. As during an Olympic Games opening, we walked through Lahti Stadium which is situated at the bottom of three spectacular ski jumping hills (with a swimming pool at the landing) and waved at everyone who wanted to wave at us. The commute also gave us a chance to talk to ordinary Finnish travellers, IM participants and their families from different countries. During one of the trips – a special morning train from Helsinki on event day (like the Tata Mumbai Marathon train but only with triathletes) – we sat with the family of Steven McKenna, one of the professional triathletes. We could not get enough of listening to stories about his preparations and attitude towards the sport.

The world championship was held over two days. The first day was for us, women. From my first step in Helsinki Central Station to the last in the evening, I was surrounded by vibrant female concentration, power and energy. Countless were the moments that I felt emotional.

Not the least, when the professionals were being introduced to the audience and lined up for the race. After the Finnish national anthem, we could hear a pin drop in anticipation of the race start. And there they went… the pros, our role models, kicking off the long-anticipated event.

I was thrilled to participate with 2000 other participants in a women’s only race. As female triathletes in India, we are always surrounded by male participants. Often, there are only a few women present and I have been in races where I was the only one registered in my age category. I cannot describe how exciting it was to stand at the starting line with 160 women of my own age: wrinkles, grey hair peeking out from under our green swimming caps and singing and dancing to the music in our tight wetsuits that showed our trained and toned bodies in all their glory. Of course, I panicked when the swim started, as I always do. This time my contact lens moved when I jumped into the water. I immediately realised that if I lost it, I would not have any replacement or glasses for the rest of the race since the start / finish (the ‘Finnish finish line’) / Transition 1 and Transition 2 were all in different places. Shubham Vanmali, one of India’s great ultra swimmers and a recipient of the Tenzing Norgay National Adventure (sport) Award once told me that cold water amplifies fear. I did not allow this to happen. I managed to control myself and started enjoying the swim though my timing was not as it could have been.

The cycling route was one loop through a rolling landscape. We crossed forests, meadows, and a few villages. The roads were closed and we just had to pedal without fear for upcoming traffic or potholes. Of course, there are always too many hills and there is too much head wind. After 30 kilometres of cruising, the road made a sharp bend and an awful hill showed its ugly face. At the sudden start of the climb, I approached another athlete and joked: “ I did not see this coming.” It happened to be Maitreyi Bokil and we both laughed. I managed to overtake a few triathletes but have especially learnt to recognize the sound of TT bikes closing in on me from behind. After the race, I kidded that I had overtaken 10 cyclists and had been overtaken by 100. Since there were many (younger) age categories that started behind us (the 55–59-year-olds), it did not matter. But of course, it always hurts.

With the run, in sight, I was relieved that I had completed the riskier activities (being caught by fear / cold during swimming – one female triathlete died during the swim – or a mechanical issue while cycling) which can end one’s race prematurely. The half marathon was fun. As on the cycling route, the residents of Lahti were sitting in front of their houses with their families, cheering us on. They sat in their foldable chairs, ringing cowbells or banging pots and pans with spoons. The run was two laps and it was painful to see athletes keeping right and head towards the finish while we had to start our second loop. When I used a hill to consume one of my LEAP gels, I heard my name and Ketaki Sathe flew past me. Wow! My running time was the same as during my last triathlon event and my overall timing was a carbon copy of Ironman 70.3 Goa in 2022.

It is a good practice during Ironman races that every athlete is as welcomed as the winner among the professionals is. With 15,000 volunteers, all 6000 participants received the support that we needed. After the race, no idlis or upma but pizza, hotdogs, ice cream, muffins, chips and Coke….! Race day was party time.

The next day, I had a chance to watch the 4000 men racing. I thought I would have a quiet day but as it happened, I had to run up and down Lahti to see the professionals start their swim, run to T1 to see them finish and start cycling, run back to see Ritesh start his swim 2.15 hours after the professionals started (take pictures for his family at home), run to the road to see the professionals heading to T2, run back to watch Ritesh finish his swim and transition in T1 (another picture), and in a hurry run to the finish to watch the pros completing their case…  I walked 23 kilometres as recovery, the day after my race. But it was great to watch without pre-race day tension, cheer the Indian participants on and experience the race as spectator from the first to the last finisher.

I had an unforgettable time as amateur / tourist, but it became clear that I am in no position to compete with the best in my age category at a world championship. Participating has been a humbling experience. It has shown me how privileged I am that I had learnt swimming, cycling and running from a young age so that I could participate in a race like this. I could also afford to pay for the registration, flight and accommodation which is not the case for many of the age group winners in India and others in the Global South. For now, the Ironman World Championship remains an event for the privileged ones. And this privileged one needs to step up if she wants to be more than just a tourist at another Ironman 70.3 World Championship.

(The author, Corina [Cocky] Van Dam works with an NGO. She lives in Mumbai.)