From Brick Layer to the Collins Cup - Kyle Smith's rise

Posted by Mark Hayward, Sway Communications on 28th Aug 2021

From Brick Layer to the Collins Cup - Kyle Smith's rise

Kyle Smith is thrilled and honoured with his selection for the Collins Cup alongside 35 of the best athletes in the world

Just eight months ago, Kyle Smith was funding his love of sport as a bricklayer. Having won multiple 70.3 distance triathlon races and XTERRA races whilst breaking course records, Kyle has now been selected to represent “the rest of the world” at the Collins Cup to do battle with Europe and America’s best athletes.

Born and raised in Taupo, Kyle has been developing as a pro triathlete since 2019, growing in confidence and turning heads around the world with his results and his selection to compete is validation that the 24-year-old has stepped on to be viewed as one of the world’s best athletes, alongside fellow kiwi athlete Braden Currie.

His dedication and drive have paid off as he is selected to join 35 of the world’s elite to battle it out at the x-bionic® sphere in Šamorín, near Bratislava, Slovakia, for the Colins Cup on August 28th, 2022.

The event is a new triathlon race format. Modelled on The Ryder Cup in golf and other similar events in other sports, the event will see teams of the best European, International and US Professional Triathletes in the world pitted against one another.

The build up to the Collin’s Cup, in Kyle’s words:

The time came, like a humpback whale I left the security of the pacific and heading north into warmer climes.

I packed up my life at home and boarded the big metal (bird) to head off to Europe. When I say life, what I mean is 2 bikes in cardboard boxes and a backpack full of Lycra.

There’s a strange sensation of leaving all the comforts and security of home and heading into a corona-stricken Europe, especially as an athlete it’s a real mental challenge. But I was determined to prove my worth to show people that I’m not only capable of performing in NZ.

50 hours of travel later, 3 covid tests and a lord of the rings Marathon completed, I touched down in the land of the beautiful patisseries that is France. I collected my 2 banged up cardboard boxes and hopped on the train south.

Another 5 hours of ass numbing stillness later and I was in Montpellier and my 15m2 apartment with charming green and blue walls, leaky pipes and a beautiful kerb side view with pedestrians having a cheeky look into the window on every pass they make. All I wanted to do was crawl into a ball and put up a white flag. I crawled into bed and didn’t arise until 13 hours later.

The perks of proper black out shutters cannot be overlooked. Lunch time rolled around before I mustered up the beans to get out of bed, talking of beans no coffee can be seen. First things first … supermarket.

My first time venturing into a covid land. Proper bricking it, I sanitized my hands so much would have registered on the breathalyzer. I get home and pour myself a cup of poison, sorry I mean instant coffee - desperate times called for desperate measures.

I build my bike and head out for a spin. Pffttttt this is hard. Do I have covid? I better google symptoms. *shortness of breath* hmmm yeah breathing feels, rather short right now. Oh no. But no need to worry, I’m just jet lagged.

The next few weeks were a test especially with a hip socket injury that made running extremely uncomfortable. You just have to keep plugging away and keep gritting your teeth whilst doing all the strength work and stretching under the sun and praying it would come around.

It was going great for a whole two days before my handlebar gave way travelling a modest 60kph. Slow motion I straddled the top tube of my bike trying to hold it rubber side down. This was not to be I slammed into the ground straight onto my hip eventually settling into the rock filled ditch. Great.

Shoulders? not broken. Wrist? not sure. Skin? Some missing. Bike? Totaled. Oh well, skin heals, and scars look bad ass. I was so grateful to have my girlfriend Rylee with me as she patched me up and listened to my worries over the next few days.

I still went out for a run the next morning mind!

Rylee, being the amazing cyclist she is, had to race and departed back to Germany – so it was just me my apartment and leaky pipes. I raced a French Grand Prix that weekend – not great. In the swim I spent the whole race in a Lycra clad boxing match. I rode way too hard to bridge to the front group and cooked my already under trained running legs. 24th and a big wake up call.

After this I was spent - mentally, physically and emotionally. I had no energy, no motivation and not wanting to toe the line at the European champs in Elsinore. The cost of travel was the same as catching a flight home to the other side of the world. But no, I will give my soul to race and try to be the best, it’s what drives me and makes the hard work tangible.

I raced European champs with a bike bodged together from various online websites to source parts. Found some new bars, bought some aero bars from decathlon and Jerry’ed them up. Stole the crank and the aerobar pads from my road bike and had to make do with a broken Di2 shifter. It all made me more motivated to show what my legs can really do.

I swam and rode on the front coming off the bike with a 2-minute lead, I knew I hadn’t done the run work to perform to my best but I know I’m fit and have done a lot of riding. I hoped that this is enough.

It wasn’t. Coming up just short, leading the day from the gun until 3km to go where I lost the lead, I dug somewhere deep inside myself to go with them, but it was to no avail. I lost 3 more places in the last km falling just short of an unbeaten 70.3 win streak.

The thing that kept me awake that night was difference was a minute. That minute was the parts that lay broken in the garage in France. The cost of that minute. $15,000 New Zealand dollars.

But, I’m not sure if I would be sitting here now with the same fire in my belly. The absolute burning desire to come back and come back to where I know I can be.

The reality of an athlete’s life is that it becomes a massive catch 22. You need to perform to attract sponsors who believe in you, to do this you need good conditions to train in, good equipment, and travel to good races. In my case I settle at a happy medium, good friends who I borrow wheels and equipment from, booking midnight trains that take 12 hours to reach a destination, racing French Grand Prix to subsidize my accommodation and training facilities but having to train like an absolute savage to swing the balance back in the other direction toward good performance.

It’s a battle but I wouldn’t trade for the world. Onto the next race, another French Grand Prix grudge match. That grudge match went a lot better. 13th, unlucky for some but fortunately for me is my lucky number.

A short turn around into what is the Tour de France for triathlon. A 7 day, 8 stage race which comprises of races from super sprint to half Ironman and the cumulative time over all wins the race.

Going in I wanted redemption from 2019 where I was 3rd place a way down from any of the classifications. This time I wanted all the jerseys, swim bike, run and overall. I missed out on this swim but managed to get the overall and the cycling jersey after stage 1 and fought a hard grudge match until the last final stage where I edged into the lead of the runner’s classification.

Where now?

I’ve cleared my schedule and going to focus on Collins Cup.