A Super Series Insider Perspective on Llanelli

The first weekend of the 2025 Super Series ParaTri Race season was an absolute stunner in a very sunny Llanelli. Wheelchair triathlete and Super Series Insider James Bilham gives us his personal review of his first time competing in Llanelli.

The Preparation

Our race weekend starts on a Friday. As a wheelchair athlete we need a tonne of support at races, there is a lot of kit to lug around as we need a special racing wheelchair for the run, as well as a handbike for the cycle leg.

The car will get loaded – which is a giant game of Tetris mixed with Jenga – and then I’ll be double checking the kit list – wetsuit, goggles helmets, pumps, toolkit for the inevitable race day mechanical. Wetsuits, goggles, helmets, nutrition. Goggles, helmet, sunglasses, nutrition. Repeat until long after you’ve left.

On the Friday night, we check into the hotel and find somewhere to eat. If the hotel has a restaurant, we tend to keep it simple, but this time, we had to go out. There’s a Nandos nearby which is a safe bet. Chicken and rice, the perfect pre-race diet for an aspiring athlete.  We managed to get a reasonably early night and after a long drive, I sunk into the bed and with no kids to distract me I was out like a light!

Race Day

I was awake early on race day, the kids still have an impact on my body clock, even from 200 miles away, so I boiled the kettle and got stuck into a ‘just add boiling water’ porridge and an instant coffee.

I start the day with a quick shower, sat in the bath for safety as a fall on race day morning would be less than ideal. Put on some comfy clothes, check in with my coach Laura who has travelled down with me and head out to find some coffee that doesn’t come from a packet and get some more breakfast. Life is too short for rubbish coffee & rubbish bikes! I love race weekends as I get to eat like a king for 48 hours.

My race wasn’t until the early evening, so I started to absorb the atmosphere of the event while my coach Laura went for a run on the stunning coastal path, a half marathon in preparation for her own upcoming Ironman. I watched some of the earlier races go off in the sunshine and caught up with the ever lovely Emma, the British paratriathlon academy coach! I felt like I’d had a quality pre-season and was building very nicely for the first race. My confidence was high, and I was buzzing to get started.

Back at the hotel my kit was laid out ready and I needed some lunch. It was a hot day so lunch time felt like a good time to get out of the sun and raid the nutrition supplies. My wife had thought ahead and packed sushi, chicken and some rice pudding pots, my favourite pre-race carb treat! Getting close to race time I like to keep food light and this was perfect.

I checked the last few bits of kit and then it was back to the van and back down to the North Dock to start race prep. We still had a while until registration opened but the van needed unloading and the camping trolley loaded with the race kit I needed.  I made a quick change at the last minute into race gear in the back of the van, there is something about getting a tri suit on that gets my ‘game face’ on.

The warmup was perfect. Work through the power zones and a few snappy efforts to get the blood flowing, all whilst watching the earlier athletes smash through T1. The weather was glorious, and I felt sharp. My mood was high, and I was buzzing to get started.

I attend the race briefing and find out all the para athletes are going off together. This is new for me, as the Paratri Wheelchair field is usually small and we tend to end up pretty well separated quickly, it’s like a solo time trial. Now I’m starting with 15 other racers, plus the guides for the visually impaired athletes. In front of me, less than a foot away is Dave Ellis, Paralympic god and 2024 Paris gold medallist. Suddenly, it’s real and energy turns to nerves. I’m about to race a Paralympic gold medallist to the first buoy.

I love this though. Less than 3 years ago I was in a hospital bed wondering what my life would look like. Now I’m on the start line with the best in the world. Sport can give us hope, opportunities. We all have our own reasons for being on the start line, but as para athletes our injuries can open doors to things we would have never done before.

The ancient philosophers, The Stoics, have a phrase, “Amor Fati” which means ‘to love your fate’. It’s not just ‘what will be will be’ but ‘this is my journey, and I love it’. This is one of those moments that remind me that I love this journey and these challenges. It’s mine, those challenges are mine.

Race Time!

I get the wetsuit zipped up, and get into the water, it’s like a bath! The sun had been doing its business all day and if I wasn’t about to go racing, I could have just laid on the sandy beach and enjoyed the warm water and atmosphere.

Game face back on. Get my face in the water. Few swim efforts. Get comfy in the water. Get settled in the wetsuit.
Line up at the start line.
My first mass start.
I’m second row.
I don’t think I’ll be in the front pack, but I don’t think this is ideal.
The whistle goes.
We are off.
I had an idea what to expect but my body didn’t.
I’d ridden in bike races before my accident, so racing elbow to elbow wasn’t new to me, but with arms and legs everywhere this was a chaos I wasn’t ready for.
Stay with it.
It will split.
I’ll be able to see what I’m doing soon.
Find some space.
Not that way.
Heart rate is through the roof.
Get control!
That’s a visually impaired athlete you’re punching in the head.
That’s an ambulant athlete kicking you in the head.
This is not good.

We hadn’t got to the first buoy yet and I sat up, the toes I wanted to be swimming on got away but I needed space. It was exciting but exhausting. I needed to survive the swim! I’d already made a mental note that mass start practice is needed.

The rest of the swim was the individual time trial I’d expected, trying to get myself under control and keep moving. Find a rhythm.

Out of the swim and onto the bike

I get to the swim exit, and the assistants are there as planned. We are allowed some limited support during transitions. We need help getting in and out of the water, our wetsuits donning and doffing at double speed during T1, and help to safely transfer from one race machine to another in T2.

My coach, Laura at Trinity Triathlon and I now have this part ‘well oiled’, it’s a team effort for a whole weekend. It’s taken some communication and trial & error but we know what we are doing.

I get onto my back and they lift me out, onto my day chair and off to transition. We are allowed assistance with the day chair up any ramps on swim exits as pushing wheelchairs up hills with wet hands are not ideal and often the ramps are steep. Over the top I take control of the chair and head into T1.

Into transition and I get my wetsuit unzipped and onto the floor, Laura pulls my suit off, I put my helmet on and lift myself onto my handcycle. I have no idea of the swim time, I know it wasn’t quick, and it should be my strongest discipline, but it’s done, the bike leg is ready. I’m off. Out of transition and onto the road, and I think ‘this is it, we’ve trained for this.’

Out on the road and power feels ok, my heart rate is high but under control. The course looks flat but when you’re powered by arms and can’t stand on the pedals, even the slightest gradient feels like a mountain.  I’ve not ridden the course before but I’ve looked at the map and studied it on street view. Up the hill, left at the first roundabout should be fast, then slight right all the way up to the first dead turn.

Power. Check. Heart rate. Check. Speed. A little low but the surface is worse than I expected and we’ve just come out of transition and up a hill so this is fine. Coming to the first dead turn, I try to keep the pace up and carry some speed. I turn in, but I’m carrying too much speed. Crash! I’d managed to turn the handbike on its side. I’ve not hit anything or anyone but I’m on my side. I unclip my seatbelt and a marshall comes to the rescue and puts me back on three wheels. I’m upright again. Let’s go.

It’s really hard to make the corner so I need to shuffle round in a form of a three point turn – potentially slightly more than three – but I’m off again. I’m ok, I can feel a few grazes on my legs but I can race on.

Down to the roundabout again, first left. Up to the end, another dead turn. I’m cautious, slow down, get the turn in bang on and take the corner perfectly. We are flying now. These are the speed numbers I expected. I relax on the downhill to end the first lap. The crowd is gathered and I can hear support from the side of the road. A dead turn, slow but decent line. We start again.

Super Series races are all the same. Always a crowd, always encouragement.

Onto the second lap and I’ve got an eye on my Garmin, the time is slow but I’ve got time to make it up. Keep pressing. Up the hill, to the left, to the right and first dead turn again. Slower this time. I stay upright which is a relief, but I don’t make the turn. It’s back to the three point turn game again. Another mental note that next time we try another line. I’ve lost momentum. Let’s go again.

The remaining laps continue in the same vein. Each time I hit the dead turn I fail to make it, I need to work on this. I know my bike time is slow, it’s a long way short of expectations but if we can take on the recovery from spinal cord injury, a setback in a race is nothing.

Into and out of T2

Into the racing chair. It’s uncomfortable and I get a bit of a spasm as I get into the chair. It’s pretty normal for me and not unexpected. This is why we have support. Laura holds my front wheel to stop me tipping out whilst I sit up and relieve the spasm before getting stuck in.

It’s two laps of the bike course without the dog leg. I’m on my own, as the runners are on a different course, but not long now and we are done. I can do this. Out onto the course and focus on technique. Driving a racing wheelchair forward is like swimming. Catch the rim, a good pull, and push out the back. I’ve got the words of the guys at Kirkby Athletics ringing in my ear, ‘through the 6, through the 6’ – referring to the technique tip of keeping the push effort through the bottom of the push rim.

I actually feel good. I’m going up the hill but I’m building momentum. This is alright.

I make my way up to the first dead turn. It’s tight and I’m not going to make it. I have to do another 3, 4, 5 point turn. All my pace has gone and it feels like we’re in survival mode. I get round, down the hill, keep calm and build the pace. Another dead turn and it’s the same again. These chairs have the turning circle of a cruise ship! One last push up the hill and I’ve got a motorbike outside rider for company. A personal escort, that’s cool. I’ve seen this before for riders on a Tour de France TT. I feel special, slow, but spoilt by the Super Series team looking after us on course.

Up, over the roundabout, a shout to the marshalls to say thanks for supporting, and another dead turn, so I need to repeat the process. I’m resigned to it now but a final blast down the hill and across the finish line in front of the supportive crowd. We’re done. I’m done. Laura rescues me from my racing chair, and I slump into my day chair.

I’m cooked. I tell Laura I’m never doing a triathlon again. She doesn’t believe me!

Racing is hard. If it was easy everybody would do it. But I’m nothing if not stubborn. I’ll be back.

x

Make it Work, Make it Right, Make it Fast

In a previous life while building a tech business, we had a saying, ‘Make it Work, Make it Right, Make it Fast.’  In that order, always. I think this will be the story of para triathlon for me.

I spent last year figuring it out, surviving races and learning a lot. This year, I’ll be making it right. It’s the first race of the year and we’ve picked up some lessons. Focus on technique, technique, technique through to the next race whilst we make it right.

Then will come the speed.