Soldier

A soldier does whatever his/her leader says….

Cango Caves marathon. A marathon and half marathon known as a PB race. It isn’t easy at all, especially when the Karoo offers a sunny day. The mercury was said to be around 30 degrees but it certainly did not feel like it. I’ll get into that a little later.

A few years ago Lameez mentioned she would like to do the Omtom Ultra and Comrades one day. She asked me a few questions and I would like to believe I gave her the answers she was looking for. Late last year we had another chat and her mind was made up, she had entered both events and it was time to plot the way forward. Those of you that know her, understand her to be this driven lady with a fair amount of understanding and a mountain of motivation. Three kids and Husband Faizel. Good people, really kind and caring people. These folks support every Kenfac club member and talk to everyone in the Cape Town running world. I have some lovely memories of a few chats over the last few weeks that will entertain you.

I consider the plan we put in place to be a puzzle, piece by piece we working towards the two big events on the running calendar. Running is a sacrifice, a big fucking sacrifice on your work life, family life and your body. I’ve gone through this change of lifestyle since 2015. It’s a change that every household goes through and with support and understanding it makes it easier. Enough of the soppy stuff. Race day, that’s what these stories are about. The good stuff, the funny stuff and how people can change between the 25km and 32km mark.

Oudtshoorn, not the most exciting town in the country, ostriches, croc farms, roadworks, high temperatures and lots of afrikaans conversations. The boys Merlin, Ezzo, JJ and I hit the road on Friday morning for the long ass drive to middle earth. The closer we got to Ostrich land the hotter it became. A few hours and farts later we get out of the car at race number collection. Who do we see first? Aneesa, #oorals. Quick and easy number pick up, off we go to Kleinplaas, lovely spot for our one night only boys trip. Spur for supper, Pick ‘n Pay for essentials and off we went. Just for clarity, there is nothing to do in Oudtshoorn. So race preparation was the plan. Four brasse unpacking and getting their club kit and running goodies together. Comparing race day nutrition and supplements and asking for nipple plasters. Time to sleep, but the heat was unbearable. Broken sleep. Alarm set for 02:55 I didn’t need it because I was awake. Nervous for my “second date” with Lameez. I say date because last week at Peninsula marathon things got weird and awkward at the 20km mark. Faizel asked me last week how was it to run with Lameez and I gave him the run down. His response was “that’s not the first time I hear that!” Lee-Anne, sister of Lameez mentioned she was worried about me. I told her I started to worry about my safety at one stage. That’s in the past and this time around we were positive and our target of qualifying for Comrades was set. 4hours 48 minutes.

Planning is vital especially if you running a race for a reason. Loads of Kenfac athletes were present at the start line. Faizel, Lameez and I in the A Seeding Batch, right in front no need to do any extra mileage today.

The short term goal was to get to 10kms in 1:09 and then more of the same for the next 2 10km blocks. A one km free fall and then a right turn and climb for 7kms. Lots of walks, lots of water, good spirits and some small talk. We made the turn remembered to smile for the official photographer and we continued to free fall down the mountain. 20+ kms of downhill running. Making up seconds gradually, snacking on our food and supplements. Making sure the energy levels were good. Then we got a fright, some guy decided to clean his guts on the road and blamed some nutrition he was using. At one stage I thought a Ford XR6 was about to race. Loud and gross and spitting everywhere. Vuil vark.

Lameez was in good spirits, no swearing. Not yet anyways. She just said I need to get through the 21-30km mark.

We were the 3 amigos for a long time. Faizel, Lameez and I trotting along trying to find some shade to run in. Often proving to be a pointless exercise. Sunburn was going to be the order of the day. A vest tan is not a sexy thing. 20km done, 25km done and then we were nearing new ground on this moving date, Lameez was busy going from Bruce Banner into the Hulk ever so slowly. Each km board brought about a different personality trait. Now I’ve seen people change, males and females. Rushda and Rasheeda get a special mention. Two soft spoken ladies also become very foul after a while. For clarity if you ask Ashraf Scholtz or Reyaad Soeker how I also had a blurred lines moment they’ll probably say, “don’t talk to that bra on Constantia nek”

So the decent was done, a few rolling hills and then the flat part of the route was upon us. The marathon had only just begun. Some gentleman from Whalers AC said the marathon starts at 27km, safe to say we didn’t listen to him. 32km is where the fun began for us. A few tables ran out of water but there were plenty kind souls along the way to give us a few cold bottles of water. The Mageds were tremendous, new additions to Kenfac, popping up at the right time with cold drinks. Faiza Christians as well. Topform from her as a support vehicle girlie. 30km reached around the 3H20 mark. Time banked.

Anyways, back to my date, Lameez was wonderful, tough, confident, she knew what she had to do, I knew what I had to do and then the sun decided to go up a few degrees this is where the fun started. Some self doubt crept in, a bit of a tongue lashing started but then I had to use my teacher voice. “Look lady, I don’t care about what you think now, we here to run this race so suck it up, let’s go” #silence. Km board to km board, light poles, trees, parked cars all of them became landmarks. Cameron popped up out of nowhere with a drink, that was much needed too. 7km to go, things got tough. She just stopped, I can’t!! She probably thought I was going to entertain her nonsense, grabbed her hand and off we went. Momentum gained, she let go and we were moving. She kept looking at her watch, it was then when I had to do the Cape Flats move “give that watch here” watch confiscated, took her running bag and Wendall came through with a Red Bull.

We were in a good space. Wendall is a legend, he has run every race 400 times. Top, top man. Together we kept pushing this lady, kept motivating her. As many athletes know, sometimes breaking new ground is tough, just beyond self doubt is a fucking hill at the 40km mark, probably a 30m hill but on tired legs it looks like Table Mountain. Up we go, get to the top and it’s go time, 17 mins for the last 2kms. Lameez had asked me “am I going to make it” 15 times. I assured her if we kept moving we’ll be safe. Oh yes, at about 20kms she said, you know you going to have to deal with me crying if I make it. So many water sachets were used in keeping this lady cool, the temperature had reached near the 30’s I’m sure of it.

Up the hill around the corner, she put the skates on, finish line in sight, lots of people there and that’s where fresh new legs emerged. Only to be reeled in, small climb at the army gate and then a long run on a dust patch of a sports field. I tell her, hey Lameez it’s a PB kind of day for you. Fuck the fucking PB, I want to get done!!!

I will not tell a single lie, Lameez, the soft spoken Vice-Chairperson of Kenfac SAC does swear. A lovely person, with a heart of gold but at 35kms she turns into a sailor, vocab goes out the window and profanity oozed. Was it worth it, I think so, would I do it again, I’m not so sure. She might stab me, Lameez Isaacs is now in the Durban box. She’s a tough soldier, mentally tough and we picked off our targets along the route. Mother of three, career lady, friend and enemy all in one. She’s a champ. Running with her from start to finish gave me great joy in the plan set out last year. March brings with it a whole new ball game. High mileage and another box to be ticked off. This moment is up there with some of my better running memories. No don’t take that photo, that’s not a kwaai doekie I’m wearing.

She didn’t cry, not one tear. I suppose she’ll save them for a rainy day. Thanks for the opportunity to write a good race day story Lameez and Faizel. She soldiered on, a bit of this and a bit of that but hey, job done. 4H48:20