2009 European Duathlon Championships

Eyes bulging out of their sockets, an accusatory index finger pointed at the camera, shouting “it’s a xxxxxxx disgrace!” – It’s an image that many of us will have imprinted on the memory, the night that Didier Drogba 'lost it' after Chelsea were knocked out of the Champions League Cup. As a Manchester United fan, I wasn’t very sympathetic to Didier’s plight on the night in question, but a few weeks later, I felt like his brother-in-arms against the world of bungling sports officials, when a silver medal that I had earned fair and square was handed to another competitor who finished behind me at the European Duathlon Championships in Budapest on 24 May 2009, writes Tarik Djeddour.

For the uninitiated amongst you, a Duathlon is a run (10km) – bike (40km) – run (5km) event which started out as a race triathletes did when it was too cold to swim but which has, since the early nineties, established itself as a discipline in its own right under the governance of the International Triathlon Union. And as some of you may know, I am on a sabbatical from work since 16 March, in order to fulfil a long-term goal of winning the gold medal at the World Duathlon Championships in September.

The 10 weeks between the start of my leave and the European Championships were filled with hard training and racing (around 3500 km of cycling and 500 km of running) but also with a lot of frustration as niggling injuries to calves and ligaments plagued me for at least eight of those weeks. At the most extreme, was a calf strain which I endured after barely two kilometres of the first run leg at the Cambridge Duathlon on 19 April, but which I had to continue running on as this was the qualifying race for the European and World Champs. In the event, I miraculously finished the race in a good time (2 hrs 6 mins) to finish fifth in my age group earning me a spot on the GB team. Overall, despite the injuries, I have been amazed (and relieved!) at how quickly my condition has improved: weight from 69.5 kg to 64.0 kg, resting heart rate from 60 bpm to 36 bpm, max recorded heart rate from 172 bpm to 195 bpm – all of this obviously contributing to an ability to race faster and faster.

So back to Budapest... the troubles started in the morning of the race, when placing my bike into the transition area, and the electronic timing chip handed to me had “Age group Men 50-54” written on it. Upon being questioned, the official replied, “Are you sure this is not your age group?” to which I replied in total amazement “Do I look fifty?!” Realising his obvious error, the official made some frantic phone calls and, after ten minutes or so, explained to me that there had been an accidental switch between my race number and a Spanish competitor in the 50-54 age group but that this would be taken care of in the database. Slightly concerned, I continued with my pre-race preparation until my start wave (Men 18-40) was asked to make its way to the start line for the 09:00 start. Upon entry into the starting pen, another official was scanning our timing chips to ensure they worked correctly, and to my horror as I beeped past, the laptop read “Felix Castillo – ESP – M50 – 54”. A further remonstration with the hapless official ensued, followed by a further assurance that my name would be matched with my race number. At this point there was nothing further that I could do except to focus on my race and ensure a good position in the stampede of 160 athletes down the narrow track of the first 1km of the run leg. A few last minute stretches, shakes of the hand with fellow competitors wishing them a good race, and then the start hooter blasted...

My race went as perfectly as I could have wished – a fast first run (32 mins 58 secs) in the lead group, followed by a smooth transition to the bike leg, a solid bike leg still with the leader (1 hr 4 mins), and a gutsy last run (17 mins) to finish in a total time of 1hr 56mins 23secs, only 30 secs or so behind the gold medal winner in my age group, who happened to be another Brit.

Delighted with my race, I unfortunately did not have the opportunity to stick around and share in the post-race excitement with my fellow competitors as Melissa (my girlfriend) and I were on a military timetable to get back to the hotel and pack up to catch a flight bound to take us on leg 1 of our onward journey to the south of France, where my sister was getting married the next day... this phase of the trip had to go even more smoothly than my race if I did not want to be disowned by my sister!

It wasn’t until later that evening, whilst waiting for our connecting flight, that I was able to check the results online and realised that not only had the officials failed to amend their error, but they had compounded it by listing me as a DNF (Did Not Finish)! Some frantic emails and phone calls later to the GB team manager confirmed that they had given my medal to a Swiss athlete. At this point, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry and I have to say a big thank you to Melissa who kept me sane by listening to me vent for the rest of the evening.

I am now back in London, having spent a great few days with my family (my sister’s wedding went splendidly in comparison to the race fiasco). The race situation has been rectified, with the official results listing me in silver medal position, but I am still awaiting the precious silver medal in the post.

I am calmer now and have a wry smile on my face as I picture a silver-haired Felix Castillo regaling his friends and family over a few cervezas with the story of how he had the race of his life that warm May day in Budapest. Salud Felix!

You can follow my progress on Facebook (Tarik Djeddour) and Twitter (@tazza76).