Surviving the JurassicMan Triathlon: A Tale of Misadventure

Results

Time:17h24mn45s
10th

The Pre-Race Shenanigans

Picture this: It’s a beautiful Saturday, and I’m driving to the race site, still recovering from food poisoning earlier in the week. Because nothing screams “ready for a triathlon” like a stomach that’s been doing the cha-cha. I arrive at the campsite, which is modestly populated with fewer than 30 athletes. The signs about the event exude a mix of welcoming vibes and ominous warnings.

After setting up my tent, I indulge in carb-loading with a vegetarian pasta dish at a small, family-owned Italian restaurant. With my energy reserves topped up, I took a lovely walk down the sea before heading to bed early.

Race Day Dawn: The Swim from Hell

Early Sunday morning, the sun rises beautifully over the horizon. I wish I could say the same for my spirits. The sea swim is four agonizing loops totalling 3.8 km, with some areas feeling suspicious and dodgy. My mind whispered, “E. coli,” honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised.
Emerging from the water after 1 hour and 48 minutes, likely dead last, I was hopeful. Usually, I make up time on the bike. Today, though, was different. Dressed in a high visibility jacket and sporting a GPS tracker, I was prepared for anything—except what happened.

The Bike: Hills, Hills, and More Hills

The bike course’s elevation is what nightmares are made of. The total elevation gain is approximately 2,500 meters. I missed several turns, my bike computer might as well have displayed hieroglyphics, and the hills were relentless. Multiple emergency stops were needed, including one awkwardly at a cricket club. Sorry, cricket enthusiasts.
The climbs were brutal, and my legs felt like they were being tenderised for a gourmet meal. By the time I reached T2, I was spent. Refuelling and changing into trail shoes felt like an eternity, marking the most extended T2 transition I had ever recorded. 14 minutes!s

better The Run: A Comedy of Errors

The final leg was the Jurassic Coastal Path marathon, with an elevation gain of around 1,500 meters. And I was armed with a letter box map. Felt like one of those orientation races. Running well but facing constant ups and downs, I had more emergency stops, including one at a community centre and another behind some bushes. The coastal path needed to be marked, leading me astray multiple times. After overtaking the same person three times, I decided to stick with him for the rest of the race—strength in numbers.
As darkness fell, the cliffs loomed ominously close. The emergency blanket and torch suddenly made sense. Together, we stumbled through the night, slower than I’d have liked, but at least not alone.
Two lights appeared on the horizon near the finish line. Could we catch them? Not a chance. My companion had nothing left. We crossed the finish line at 2 AM, completing a 46 km run. Does this count as an ultra-triathlon? I’ll let you decide.

The Aftermath

Post-race, I refuelled with Tesco Plant-Based Tomato Soup—a taste I’ll never forget and a product I now buy regularly, a strange memento of this extreme event. This was the last JurassicMan Triathlon, a casualty of too much effort for too few participants. It’s a shame; the course is gorgeous but brutal.
A fellow volunteer offered me a lift back to the campsite. He attempted a deca (10 Ironman distances in 10 days) but stopped after eight. Mental.
Finally, I collapsed into my little tent, experiencing one of the best sleeps of my life. It’s incredible how well you can rest when utterly exhausted.

Conclusion

The Jurassic Man Triathlon may have been the most challenging race I’ve ever done, but it’s also one of the most memorable. It pushes you to your limits and then some, surrounded by stunning landscapes and supported by a community of equally crazy athletes. Here’s to the last Jurassic Man—may it rest in extreme peace.

For more information, visit the Brutal Events official site.

TIME CHIP