Today is Canada Day, and I’m doing my first swim race—a 1km open water swim at Sasamat Lake, right here at White Pine Beach. This spot’s a local favorite, and on a holiday like this, it’s bound to get packed. I used to come here all the time when I was younger—not to swim, just to hang out. But since getting into open water swimming, I try to make it out here a few times a year.
It’s a beautiful day. My mom came along too, and I think she enjoyed cheering me on. She’s the one who paid for my swim lessons as a kid and took me to the pool on weekends. Back then, I wasn’t much of a swimmer. I’ve come a long way since.
I wasn’t aiming for anything impressive with this race—it’s mostly a practice swim to get ready for my triathlon in September. I wanted to hold a steady pace and try out the “swim straight” feature on my Form goggles. Really, I just wanted to enjoy the day, spend some time at the lake, and do something active. Training has pushed me to get out more and make the most of days like this.
That said, I have been training, and I had a rough idea of what I could do. In a test swim, I did 1000 meters in 24 minutes, so that was my target.
And then we were off.
I still remember my first time swimming in a race—the opening leg of a sprint triathlon two years ago. The water was rough, and I honestly thought I was going to quit. Nothing since has been as hard. But today? The water was calm. The crowd wasn’t too intense, though there were a few bumps—someone even cut in front of me at one point and forced me to stop mid-stroke. But it was all good.
I wore my Form goggles, which really helped—not just with swimming straight, but with keeping my mind occupied. The compass and live stats gave me something to focus on, which helped me stay calm. Open water can mess with your head if you let it.
Still, on the way back, I lost my sense of direction a bit. The sun was in my eyes, and I ended up following the swimmers ahead of me. I lost sight of the final yellow buoy and had to use the finish arch on the beach as a guide. By the time I got close, I realized I’d taken a different line—probably a longer one.
I came out of the water a little confused. Somehow, I’d finished in 21 minutes. My watch said I swam about 70 meters extra, which means even with the detour, I beat my goal pace—averaging 2:21 per 100 meters.
I walked away from this race feeling a lot more confident in my swimming. It wasn’t a super fast time, and I still need to work on sighting and swimming straight, but I’m not just surviving the swim anymore. There was a time when something like this felt impossible. When I first started, I could barely make it across the pool without resting five minutes to catch my breath.
That’s what I try to come back to—those early moments. It’s so easy to get caught up in small improvements or things that didn’t go perfectly. But if you pause and look back, you can see how far you’ve actually come. That’s what this race reminded me of.
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Today, I’m off to get inspired! The T100 Vancouver race is happening at the Spanish Banks-Locarno Beach area, so I’m riding over this morning to check it out and hopefully catch some of the pros at the start.
I’ve been toying with the idea of doing a longer triathlon distance, and the T100 feels like a solid goal for a year or two from now. Honestly, if I had the time to train properly, I could probably attempt it this year—but the bike and run would be brutal.
Still, it’s good to have goals. Good to have something that fuels you. Seeing this event come to Vancouver gives me a jolt of energy—and hey, this city is awesome, so why not soak it in?
So, I decided to go watch and kick off my next training block with some inspiration.
After finishing my first triathlon of the season—a sprint race in the rain—I had a five-week gap before my 12-week Olympic triathlon plan begins. The big question was: what do I do with those five weeks?
The first week was for rest, obviously. But after that, I realized there wouldn’t be much room in my training plan to build run speed. I want to be faster on the run this time around, so I put together a four-week run-focused block to raise my pace. The idea was to build speed now, so when I start triathlon training, I already have a strong run base to work from.
I committed to it—two high-intensity sessions each week, plus a few easy runs. Week one: 22.46 km. Week two: 19.72 km. Week three: 18.49 km. Week four: I backed off for recovery. Those numbers might not seem huge, but it was nearly triple what I ran during my sprint tri prep.
The goal was simple: get my legs run-fit and raise my base fitness. And according to my watch, I went from 49 to 63 points. Solid progress.
I know I’ve got plenty of running ahead, but it feels like I’ve already chipped away at some of the hardest work. Now, when my 12-week triathlon plan kicks off, I can shift focus to the swim and bike—without stressing as much about run training.
Because let’s be honest: running is awful.
Last year, I struggled to find the freshness to push for speed. This year, I want to run longer and harder on tired legs. That means more brick workouts off the bike. I’m also planning to ride longer and harder—to really get the endurance in my legs so I can finish strong on the run.
I still remember how painful the run was during last year’s Olympic tri. I don’t want a repeat of that. That’s the goal this time: finish strong. So here I am—three solid weeks of hard running behind me, and a good foundation to build on.
Next up: a 1000m lake swim on Canada Day. I haven’t done much to build swim fitness yet, and I was nervous, but after a test swim, I clocked 24:21 for 1000m. Not fast, but it gave me confidence.
My goal is simple: finish, stay calm, and hold pace. Last time I raced a swim, I veered off course and swam 200m more than I needed to. This time, I just want to stay on track and finish around the 24-minute mark. But really—just finishing will feel like a win.
There’s a lot to look forward to, especially today: T100 day. Enjoy the ride from Science World down the seawall, and stick around ‘til the end to check out the sights and sounds of the race.
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The day finally arrived: my first triathlon of 2025. In fitting conclusion to a chaotic training block, race day kicked off with a perfectly miserable, rainy morning.
There were plenty of challenges leading up to this moment—months of work, unexpected obstacles, and less-than-ideal conditions. But we don’t sign up for this because it’s easy.
In addition to swim, bike, and run logistics, there was one more wildcard: our dog, Petey. We’ve been training him to handle crowds and noise, and he’s made a lot of progress. Still, we knew race day would test him. That morning, we left him with my wife at the car while I made my way to the start line. I had about an hour to set up before go time.
This was my fifth triathlon, so by now, the usual gear-check panic had faded. No more obsessing over whether I packed everything or anxiety about setting up in transition. Still, right before the start, I always feel it—that churn in the stomach. Pushing yourself to the edge while trying to pace it right? That’s always nerve-wracking.
Speaking of my stomach, I wasn’t feeling 100% physically. Digestively. But maybe it’s all in my mind. I chalked it up to the general discomfort of standing around in the rain. Yes, it was a very messy morning. The trek to the pool was a mudfest.
The swim was supposed to be 444m like last year, but a week out, we got an email that it’d be shortened to 300m. Not ideal for an apples-to-apples comparison, but with the rain, nothing was going to be a perfect match. Still, it was a chance to improve.
Last year, I finished 126th out of 276. This year, my goal was to break into the top 100. Not always the healthiest mindset—comparing yourself to others—but this race uses a staggered start, so standings are kind of a mystery anyway. I decided to treat it like a solo time trial.
To position myself in the most ideal spot, I tested a 300m swim in training and estimated I’d come in around 6:40. Last year, I guessed I could swim 444m in 10 minutes—it ended up taking me about 11, and I had to let a few people pass at the wall. This time, based on my test, I landed pretty close: 6:31 on my watch, and 7 minutes officially after running across the pool to hit the timing checkpoint.
As for the bike—there was no predicting that. I’d done a good chunk of zone two work leading up to the race, but not much hard outdoor riding lately. Still, my legs felt solid. The course was four laps on a rolling route with a 50m climb over 2km. Not brutal, but enough to require steady effort.
I went out a bit aggressively on lap one, eased off by lap two, and by lap three the rain was relentless. I started shivering on a descent and suddenly, my vision blurred. I literally had to shake my head to snap out of it.
I hadn’t trained much in rainy conditions, so from that point on, it was all about survival—just making it to the run.
Needless to say, I was relieved to finally get off the bike at 47 min and 18 seconds, which included both transition times. On my watch, I had 42 min and 42 seconds. A solid time, but I was completely out of it. I started the run with a group pacing around 4:30–4:45/km, which might’ve been fine on a good day—but not after that ride, and not in the state I was in. Once the hills kicked in, I knew I had to ease up.
The run course was no joke—lots of short, punchy climbs, with 128m of elevation packed into just under 5K. I didn’t have huge expectations. Sure, it would’ve been nice to match my 24-minute 5K from last month, but there was no pressure. I just wanted to give it everything I had.
And I think I did.
And just like that, it was over. Another race in the books. And to my surprise, I hit that arbitrary goal I set at the start. I cracked the top 100. Barely. 99th place.
The conditions were rough. The training block was fragmented and inconsistent. But I got through it, and now it’s a race I’ll remember fondly.
As for Petey? He didn’t quite share in my success. While I braved the rain, he opted for safety and comfort. My wife tried a few times to coax him out to spectate, but he preferred to wait it out in the warm car. After a bit of howling, he curled up in the backseat and took a nap.
Still, we all did our best. And I’m proud of the three of us for figuring it out—together.
There will be more attempts. There will be more challenges. Plenty more adventures ahead.
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Finally back on the bike, and it feels so good. Starting a new training block, having a race to aim for—everything feels right. Even when the world seems like it’s spinning out of control, it’s such a relief to focus on my training. For a brief moment in this crazy life, I feel like I can take control back.
I remember why I started triathlon. Two years ago, during one of the darkest times in my life, I made the decision. It was the beginning of 2023, as we were finally coming out of the shadows of Covid and the world began to reopen. I had been locked up, living in a five-block radius, working in a windowless room. I was focusing all my energy on my creative projects and work, but it felt like the hours spent in front of a computer screen were slowly suffocating me.
I literally noticed that I was holding my breath for long periods while writing a stressful email or attending a Zoom call.
I lost 20 pounds. Looking back at pictures from that time, I was so thin and sickly that there’s no other way to describe it but to say I felt bad—physically and mentally bad.
Change is nothing new to me. I’ve gone through phases in my life. If you had asked me in 2019 if I’d ever do any of the three sports in a triathlon, I would’ve laughed it off, made a joke, and everyone would’ve been laughing along. But no, triathlon wasn’t even on my radar.
So how did it come to this? Before Covid, travel was my source of excitement. It was a huge part of who I was. I took two or three trips a year—flying on planes, exploring new places, tasting different foods, paying in different currencies. That was my thing.
When Covid hit, that travel bug was crushed. And unlike the cockroaches that can survive an apocalypse, the travel bug didn’t really come back. Sure, it would be fun to travel again, but I no longer had that intense desire. But I still needed something to look forward to, something I could work toward. I needed an activity that would regularly take me outside the house.
My wife became a big source of inspiration. She’s been a marathon runner for years, and she’d always tell me about the places she ran to. It blew my mind that, as a hobby, she could end up in totally different parts of the city. I wanted that for myself.
Triathlon turned out to be the perfect sport for me because it’s three sports in one. Training for a marathon means repeating the same activity every day, but triathlon is varied. Every day is different, and I love that.
Little by little, I started learning the three sports, having never done any of them before. The progress is steady, but it’s happening. What I love about riding, running, or swimming is that at the end of each session, I return home. Work, whether creative or professional, often feels like an endless grind. But sports have a sense of closure—a run, a ride, a swim, and then it’s done. And I feel good.
That good feeling has been a lifesaver these past couple of years. Life isn’t always easy, of course. But on a sunny day, when I’m out on a ride like this one, preparing for something ahead, it gives me a sense of hope. It’s a personal journey, but it fills me with a simple desire to keep living.
The world can be a scary place. There are people out there who aren’t kind. And when you’re on a bike, you sometimes feel that—like you don’t belong, or you’re in someone’s way, or even that you’re breaking the rules — when you’re not! But that’s just life. Even when the world wants me to feel bad, I don’t. I feel good.
Today’s a good day. This week’s a good week. And it’s the start of something great. We’ll get there. For now, I’m riding Ontario Street in Vancouver, one of the main north-south corridors that takes you from the seawall downtown to the Fraser River on Marine Drive. From there, you’re just a stone’s throw from the airport. This is my first time riding all the way south—a 65-block journey. Enjoy!
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Twenty months ago, I didn’t swim, bike, or run. I was just a sedentary writer and marketer, feeling frail and pretty down—basically, an all-around sad boy.
Since then, I’ve gradually built up my skills in each discipline and improved my fitness along the way. And honestly, it’s done wonders for my mental well-being. They say if exercise were an antidepressant, it’d be the most effective one out there—and I totally believe it. I might even be a bit addicted now, but I think I’ve got it under control!
Looking back at how far I’ve come is a bit surreal. If you’re interested, check out this video of my first sprint triathlon from last year after you finish watching this one. The improvement is huge!
Now, I’m gearing up for my first Olympic-distance triathlon: a 1,500-meter swim, a 40-kilometer bike ride, and a 10-kilometer run. What once felt impossible now seems totally doable.
While a lot of things went right, I definitely learned some lessons tackling this longer distance. Today, I’ll share what worked for me and where I stumbled in each of the three disciplines. Let’s go!
Swim : What Went Right
Started at the Right Pace
Last year, during my first sprint triathlon, I charged into the swim as fast as I could, thinking I could power through the 750 meters and keep up with the pack. Spoiler alert: that didn’t go as planned. I got completely knocked around after just 200 meters!
This year, though, I played it safe. Knowing the distance was double, I wanted to make sure I had enough energy to get through it.
So, I let the front runners take off ahead of me and eased my way in at the back. I even took a moment to wave goodbye to my wife before diving in.
What I loved about this was that I found myself swimming the first 50 meters next to a guy doing breaststroke! That was a game changer for me because I definitely felt a few jolts of panic throughout the course. But all I had to do was slow down my stroke rate and focus on my breathing. In about 10 to 20 seconds, I was able to chill out, enjoy the splash of the salt water, and just steadily make my way through it.
Swim: What Went Wrong
The Sun Got In My Eyes
Here’s the bad news about the swim, which definitely made me glad I was taking it slow. During the first lap, as I was swimming back to the beach, I was headed east just as the sun was rising above the park. That meant I was basically swimming into the sun for the whole 300 meters back in. You can probably guess how that turned out.
I completely lost sight of the buoy, the beach, and everyone ahead of me. I was pretty much swimming blind! My tinted goggles didn’t help much either. In the end, I ended up taking a super wide line, just guessing where to go, hoping I’d get close enough to hear the commotion on the beach or spot some splashing feet in front of me.
I finished my swim about 4-5 minutes slower than I expected, and when I looked at my data after the race, it all made sense—I swam an extra 200 meters! While it was nice to go at my own pace, that also left me swimming solo, which created a whole new problem in terms of navigation.
This is definitely something I need to work on for future open water swims, especially on sunny mornings!
Bike: What Went Right
Staying Focus
A 40 km bike ride is something I usually chill out and do over 2-3 hours around the city with music blasting in my ear. I’m not really used to doing four laps around a course, but man, the Stanley Park route is absolutely stunning. I had to take a moment a few times just to soak it all in, but a part of me just wanted to power through as quickly as possible.
There were definitely a lot of thoughts running through my head during the ride. How fast should I go? What gear should I be in? Should I try to keep pace with the person in front of me? Should I pass them? Should I save my energy for the climb, or push harder? How reckless should I be on the descent?
I was having this constant dialogue with myself for the hour and twenty minutes I was on the bike, always checking in on how I was feeling. That constant check helped me stay focused. The worst thing that could happen was getting bored and either gunning it or blowing up. Or just crashing. I realized how important it was to keep a gauge on my energy levels and pull back if I was pushing too hard because my goal for the bike was to stay steady and feel good for the run. That’s where I could make up for any lost time!
Bike: What Went Wrong
A Bad T2… Again!
While I didn’t have a stellar bike ride by any means, I made it through in one piece with no mechanical issues. It was just a steady, consistent effort, and overall, I’m proud of that. But what I wasn’t proud of was everything that happened once I got off the bike and hit T2.
Transition 2 was a total mess. I got super disoriented, caught in some congested traffic on the way in, and I ended up fiddling with my watch for way too long while trying to keep moving. Oh man, it was definitely amateur hour!
To make matters worse, once I got into transition, I completely lost track of where I was supposed to rack my bike. I stood in another aisle for like 10-15 seconds just searching for my towel. It turned out to be in another row down, and it was pretty embarrassing. Thank goodness my wife was still walking over, so there’s no footage of me looking like John Travolta in Pulp Fiction.
The thing is, I got so used to seeing the racks from the opposite side—the side I exited to the bike course—that I never familiarized myself with the other side, the side I came in from after the bike. That was honestly just a huge oversight, and it really rattled me. Instead of feeling good about heading into my run, I was all discombobulated and had to take a moment to refocus.
T2 has always been tough for me. I don’t know what it is…
Run: What Went Wrong
Nutrition and Cramping
My goal was to run a 5-minute kilometer for the 10K. I started out strong, but within the first 100 meters, I realized I wouldn’t be able to keep it up. Almost immediately, I felt like my quads were about to cramp up. Usually, when I run off the bike, the first kilometer is the painful part, but it passes.
This time, though, it didn’t pass. I was on the verge of cramping the whole time, which meant that if I even tried to speed up, I’d really feel it, so I rode that fine line for the entire run. Instead of feeling like I’m conquering the run, I had to stick to a much slower pace—about 30 seconds slower than I wanted. It was super frustrating and honestly the most disappointing part of the whole race. My strategy was to feel good during the run, and I definitely didn’t.
My marathoner wife, who’s been through every running experience you can think of, suggested that my crampy legs were likely due to not having enough nutrition and not enough calories to fuel my run. I had one Gu at the start of the swim, another at the start of the bike, a full bottle of Gatorade on the ride, and two more Gu’s during the run, but that didn’t seem like enough. It’s definitely something I need to experiment with in the future.
Run: What Went Right
Enough to Finish Strong
Nevertheless, what went right was that I finished strong. I remember having enough energy to pass two more runners on my way to the finish line, which was exactly what I needed. There was an uphill stretch right before the end that felt like the most torturous part of the whole course. I really picked up the pace there because I didn’t want to hold back. In the last kilometer, I hit the pace I had been aiming for, and it absolutely finished me off. I left it all out there and crossed the line with a time of:
Official Time: 3:08:18 Overall: 162/243 Gender: 126/237 Division: 24/46
Taking everything into account, I think that’s a pretty respectable time for me. It reflects where I am in terms of fitness, skill, and experience. I can’t do another triathlon without feeling accomplished for having completed this one, especially since I didn’t think I could do it 20 months ago.
While I finished this race strong, it’s definitely not the end. Reflecting on this experience, I’ve come up with a ton of ideas for tweaks I can make to improve, and it goes beyond just training and getting fitter.
Conclusion:
This Olympic-distance triathlon was harder than all three sprint triathlons I did combined. But having the base fitness in each discipline gave me the confidence to know that anything is possible now. I have proof that I can do this—and maybe even more.
This wraps up a fun season of sports, and I’m already looking ahead to my next race. I’ve got a couple in mind for 2025. Right now, my goal is to use triathlons as a way to get outside, stay in shape, and explore new towns and cities—starting in my province and then going further. Which race will I sign up for next? We’ll have to wait a bit, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out soon! Hit subscribe so you can follow along.
This is the final part of my Project: Be Consistent — if you are interested in seeing the first two parts, which chronicles my 8 week training plan and carb-loading week in Italy, you can click on the link in the description or the playlist here.
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Elliot Chan 