This marathon started out really well. I can finally wear my vest again. It fits, the fat is falling off, praise the Lord.
Early wake up, blah blah blah. The usual things, toilet, shower, eat, toilet, toilet, toilet. Ezzo rocks up, the dogs try to vriet him a little bit, you know just doing their job. Tamsyn wakes up, morning guys, starts playing candy crush and boom… Eskom, the Man United of SOE’s in our wonderful country. Bags packed we had to wait a bit for Aunty Rushda to sort out her eye lashes or something. She arrives we go to Nazier where our Uber was to fetch us. 6 of those bastards cancelled the trip because they were scared of the state. I now know why, we waiting outside for the Uber and a car with two idiots make a bee line for us, stopping right in front of us. They then realized that it was Nazier, funny story about that, we will leave the details for a camp fire story.
We end up having to drive to town because the Uber drivers were pantsies. Quick drive, park and a walk up the road to the start from Truth Coffee shop. Soon enough we congregate on the pee stained steps of Rocamamas. Off goes the klappertjie gun and we’re moving. Green Point to Simonstown, the temperature must have been 20 degrees. It was oddly warm and humid for this race. Heading through Town was a nightmare, Rushda kicked two rats and there’s a story that Rasheeda tells but we’ll get to the business end of the season.
Today was another long run, everyone who needed to qualify for Ultra and Comrades had already done so. If they haven’t, they’ll be cutting it mighty close over the next few weeks. Good luck to those taking on the Hemel en Aarde, Cango and Weskus marathons within the next month. When a group of friends go out for a run it has good moments, bad moment and ridiculously funny moments. Any Kenfac bus is a laugh and we often gain so many special moments and stories. Every marathon is a battle, a personal battle because you could have a good day where everything is in the sweet spot or everything that can go wrong, will indeed go wrong. What would that be you ask? Having to take a dump and there are no toilets in sight and you’re getting the shivers or so Rasheeda’s diet of Roti’s and prawn last night told her. Sorry Rasheeda, I won’t tell anyone else.
We ran along Main road, the road is kak long, no winding turns. None. Zip. Fokol. Lined with people, Amanullah is a famous guy, he knows a moerse lot of women, Scholtz too. These manne with grey hair have experienced life and their charm is a wonderful attribute to have or so I think. If they get a meisie pak later then I’m sorry lads. Side note, Amanullah peed on someone’s feet, Adiel saw it happen, that’s the story and we are certainly sticking to it. We started with a group of 8 or 9. It thinned out quite quickly as the km boards were passed. Seeing clubmates is always fun, except when they not taking pics of us. I’ll blame Malikah for this one. Then Yumna and Janey had a massage table enroute, quite strange behaviour from them. Totally unexpected. By the time we got into Lakeside it was Rasheeda, Adiel and I left. Talking crap and trying to understand how someone’s tights shrunk during the race. It could be that the tights got that Coronavirus going around. From Lakeside to Simonstown is absolutely horrible. You know exactly where you’re going because you can see the damn naval base all the way across the bay.
We hit a wall of sorts, the Fish Hoek area, oh so kak. The worst stretch of road to run, just ask Goolam. We suck it up, got 20 bompies from the aunties langs die pad. Rasheeda had 19 of them, I’m amazed at how this small lady can verdala all the food so quickly. I decided to phone Tamsyn, just to make sure she wasn’t in labour yet. The call ended well, her stomach is still full of what the stork brought her. Magic. Through Fish Hoek and Glencairn then into Simonstown. Fast and flat hey, lies. That hill from the station to the finish is the devils anus. A long slog that can destroy your day. However, everything ended nicely, we finished, got loud cheers, got medals, coke and Aunty Shariffa’s TLC. That aunty is able to make a bad race day seem so good. If you ever having a bad day on the road make sure you end up in her care.
Everyone trickled in over the line but Debbie and Barbs. Drama queens, nowhere to be seen. The cut off time was close, Nazier and his bright ideas. “Angie come we go look for them” initially I thought, what if they’re in Fish Hoek, that’s kak far. Anyway, we trudged off, got them at the police station. Barbs holding hands with a strange man, Debbie behind them holding her shoes in her hand. Barbs complained about some nonsense about her shoes, “hey take your shoes off, give your bag here, let’s go” straight into a sokkie jol. Debbie and Barbs running for blue house on their socks. It was a sight. We climbed that small hill again, and someone said 3 mins to go, then we got the skates, I had their shoes, Nazier had their bags and the bra that was Barbs valentine now had nothing. He was the candle holder in the movie now. We get to the top of the hill, 90 seconds before cut off. Ooooh yirre, spat, crowd goes insane, Nazier was more excited than the ladies, Barbs was looking for the candle holder, Debbie wanted to bliksem him and in my hand I have four of the smallest running shoes I’ve ever seen. We hit the home straight, Barbs and Debbie forget they’re friends, each woman for herself, I’m sure one of them said “marathons are kak” Kenfac gazebo goes nuts, ladies running, doekies in the air, Harold on the mic giving us a countdown that was fitting of the moment. The ladies were in, seconds to spare, medals around their necks and they got to the gazebo to a massive applause and high fives. Certainly one of my top 10 running moments thus far.
Thanks everyone, great day out. Marathons are kak and Fish Hoek is a nwaata place.
Struggling Sportsman 