Happy people. 5 mins before this people were not happy.
10 weeks ago this training block started, those who know me, know that I hate the Two Oceans race, but here I am training for the Ultra marathon yet again. Ultra number 5 loading. You’ll notice that this read will jump all over the place like a taxi gaartjie playing in traffic. “haaaallooooo ma, saam ry, nou ry.”
Now that the pandemic is somewhat a thing of the past and we’re shaking hands and hugging one another again it was a good time to get back into the swing of things for weight loss, fitness and all those things we were robbed of.
Last winter I applied to be a WP Pacesetter and that came together nicely. The opportunity gave me a sense of responsibility to actually do something about this lazy and unhealthy slump I was in. Just the other day I found that 2020 WPA license, I wonder what happened to that Grand West boeta that spent that money in 2020, it seems as if he got blown away by those Bay 2 Bay winds in 2020.
I needed to qualify for Comrades, I snuck in a late qualifier at that marathon along the coast in winter. That’s something that I’ll never do again, I start shivering just thinking about that day. Comrades didn’t go well, I shouldn’t have actually gone but that’s a story on its own, fun was had, I didn’t die and I came home to my wife and kids. Fast forward Cape Town Marathon, Kenfac fun bus, started out large and ended with myself, Wasfie and Ebi Gasnola having a laugh on what was a rather warm day. There were brasse sitting at the bus stop in Woodstock just looking at their shoes. There are things that you see on race day that only happens along the route. Winelands marathon next, another hot day, thankfully no gravel road but still damn hot as it always is in Stellenbosch every year on race day, after that race I just sat in my car to collect my thoughts and apply a moerse klomp after sun cream. Bay 2 Bay, I had the 3 hour bus and I parked that bus on time, always good helping people achieve goals and hit targets, PS. Suikerbossie is a bastard.
Peninsula Marathon was next, the plan there was just a comrades qualifier for club mates and whomever needed that extra push. We were on track but as always a marathon can certainly show your plans serious flames. I even saw a lady washing her feet at one of the water stations in Muizenberg, i stopped to make sure what I was seeing wasn’t me vanging tokkies. Once again Wasfie and I were there at the end having a laugh and chatting away without worrying about the time too much. Anyway, job done, snuck in under the Comrades qualifier time again.
Then there was an opportunity to pace at the Must Love Hill training runs, a programme designed by Mike Obery. This programme had everything, all the bells and whistles. Weekly route updates, pacing crew, support crew, aid stations, photography, and snacks galore. 10 weeks of fighting with hills across the Cape Peninsula. If you signed up for these runs you weren’t disappointed at the offering. Ultra and half marathon participants were catered for. People attended these sessions religiously, you can follow the MLH social media pages to catch a glimpse of the training sessions. The running community is great, always someone willing to assist you. Initially I was nervous to get stuck into the training programme, but then I figured it cant be that hard, it’s something I’ve done before, with success. I love a long run and when Mike said he needs me to pace group 3 and I jumped at it. As usual there are always people who get confused with pacing. Average pace vs actual pace vs current pace all very different, I’m sure whoever stuck with me in Group 3 would have figured it out by now along with the counting strategy I used up the hills. The group became considerably stronger and that average 7:10 mins per km pace gradually dropped down to a 7min pace over the long distances. I’m sure I made some mistakes along the way but nobody got knocked over, nobody got injured and I’m certain confidence in their own ability grew. What was very surprising was that nobody needed to use the great outdoors as a toilet.
We went up Southern Cross Drive, Ou Kaapse Weg, The Glen, Camps Bay drive, Chapmans Peak, Constantia Nek, Ocean View Drive, Tafelberg Road, Strand Street, Wynberg Hill, Hohenort Ave and many more of those smaller climbs. Would I do it again? Yes, absolutely, nothing like taking the pressure off for the runners to just focus on getting to the next food and drink station. Chuck in the odd Dad joke and inappropriate comment, swapping of war stories and what works best to contain bowel movements on a long run. I am nicely gatvol of counting, calculating and running and walking up hills. Special shout out to today’s Hookah pipe Warriors in the white VW on their self made look out point, just before the 12 Apostles Hotel. Those guys and gals still had last night’s face on, slightly smudged, vrieting McDonald’s, legs covered with a towel on the back seat. Nothing to see here folks, please pass by with caution.
Lovely group of people doing good things in the running community be it trail, track or road.
The best part of all this running is that I’ve lost the lockdown weight that I’d gained, my running shirts have a bit more room now, I feel better, I’m fitter, I’m running better and I’ve made a few more friends by sharing whatever knowledge I’ve gained since I started running. There are times on these long runs that I feel darts or playing that card game in shopping malls with those manne that seem to know a thing or two about poppentjies and pokemon would have been a much better choice after football and cricket.
Time to rest, sharpen up and recover after a gruelling training block, tackle Two Oceans ultra and the half marathon the next day and then tackle the next 6 or 7 weeks leading up to comrades in June.
Thanks to the Must Love Hills crew for the opportunity to be a part of something amazing. The journey thus far has been great and I hope everyone gets exactly what the want between now and race day. Too many heroes to mention who done so much work behind the scenes for us runners. It takes a special kind of nutjob to wake up early to pour tots of water, coke and red bull into plastic cups in the damn dark.
Every year I aim to raise funds for a charity. This year I aim to raise R20000 for the Childhood Cancer foundation if you can support then please do. This is something close to home as a close friend faced this battle with her daughter. I’ve got until the 2nd of May to wrap this up. No amount is too small, if you want to make a small donation then please share the link or even this blog post. Click the link below.
Cape Town Marathon training is nearly done. 3 weeks to go and we will be at the start line. Ready to tackle the marathon that goes around the Atlantic seaboard, the CBD, into the southern suburbs and we make our way back to Vlei Road Greenpoint.
42.2km is a long distance, how do you prepare for it as a recreational runner? The honest answer is with absolute difficulty. Marathon training is tough, it’s tough because you need to juggle work, downtime, family time, training time and of course resting periods. The latter being a very important part of the puzzle. You read this and see nothing mentioned about eating. We eat all the time.
At Kenfac we have a wonderful support structure for our members and a few souls who are sacrificing personal goals and training to assist others. Basically we encourage our members to play with the idea of running a marathon. The marathon programme and training schedule begins in the middle of winter. It’s cold, dark, rainy, windy and at times you doubt your ability.
Whenever I run along Main Road past Groote Schuur hospital in Observatory and Midas in Salt River I remember how the wheels came off during my first marathon. I knew nothing about running, no experience at all. I joined Kenfac in July/August 2015 and I had lined up in September for my first marathon. To me is was a moerse achievement, I’ll never forget the aches and pains of the marathon. The experience is different for everyone, I write this story so you have an idea of what to expect. I hope that your experience is everything you want it to be. Your emotions run wild, you reach highs and lows and in a flash you walking to your car with a marathon medal around your neck.
So let’s recap 2019 since July. You identified that you want to do a marathon. For most of you first timers Anwar Abrahams tricked you into saying yes, just like the bugger tricked me. Fun fact about Anwar, he is an amazing character who believes in everyone, he makes jokes all day but that’s how he motivates you. If you running with him on race day be sure to bring your best personality along.
Nazier is also there working his socks off shouting at people like they are his soldiers. Nothing like the army, I think he believes that he owns the people. It is a funny sight to see. He has his squad of regulars with one or two first timers on board his bus.
I have a little crew too, our aim is too get back to Greenpoint and block Rasheeda from all the cameras. Also I need to make sure that Rushda doesn’t spend too much time at the refreshment stops. No mess no fuss.
There are a few ducatis racing on the day so good luck to those people. I hope you reach your goals on the day.
We’ve done speed work, Interval training, tempo training, long runs, recovery runs and fun runs. No junk mileage and everyone was there, happy and smiling. Our budding first timers had doubts about this. Questions were asked in fear but looking back now. Two 30km runs in two weekends and the people are still strong. Yesterday being the toughest of all the training runs.
We started in Kensington, ran through Pinelands, Little Mowbray, Obs, Salt River, Woodstock, Walmer Estate, District Six, The CBD, Oranjezicht, Tamboerskloof, Camps Bay, Llundudno and into Hout Bay. Everyone got the full benefit of yesterday’s migration from the ghetto to the sea side suburb.
I’m sure we didn’t do everything perfectly but this is sport, very few are fortunate enough to get perfect scores. We trained smart enough to be able to enjoy race day in September. 3 weeks to go, so now we can freshen up, do short runs, faster runs and at the same time get our bodies sorted out. Have the niggles seen to now, sort out any flu like symptoms and prepare mentally for a sleepless night before race day.
Yesterday was a kick ass day with our supporter crew growing nicely. These people really came out to play with us. We can’t thank them enough for their efforts.
Good luck everyone, see you at training on Tuesday.
God bless, take care.
The pictures tell different stories, sometimes a long run brings the best and worst out of people. Enjoy it.
Since the euphoria of completing Comrades in 2016 I have developed a love hate relationship with this event. I love how it brings people together and how you are forced to go through physical and psychological change. I hate how it consumes you. There is no easy way to do Comrades and the training required.
Running is tough, whether you’re an Elite athlete or back marker. The distance remains the same, your ability and work ethic changes, perhaps you are indeed lucky enough to run very fast and efficiently, bless your damn fast soul. Forgive us for turning ourselves inside out to complete the latest social craze. Endurance filled road running.
Comrades can hurt you. Emotionally and Physically. It keeps you coming back every year, this was to be my 4th attempt. 9 June lining up outside Durban City Hall with just around 20000 other maniacs. Lots of friends from Cape Town have also joined, all hoping to get to Maritzburg in one piece. 18 Kenfac club mates and Merlin from Avbob and two prison wardens, JJ and Liaan complete my squad. I say my squad because we have invested in each other and ultimately want the best for one another. The rest of the people I have come to know since I started this sport all have the same goal and intention, to do well enough to get the medal.
Kenfac was well represented this year, 18 of us and 8 first timers. In all fairness we are all novices just a few of us who decided to come back again to make sure that this event is actually a monster that takes everything you have on the day and spits it right out. I spent months running with friends who became part of a family, sometimes a very dysfunctional family. Planning for Comrades started in November last year. Qualifiers were basically out of the way and it was time to plot the way forward. Research and strategy was the order of the day. Going in to December and later January the plans were concrete and the training schedule was born. The magic number was 1000kms between January and Comrades Race Day. Hit that target and success was on the cards. So the plans were in motion, lots of mileage and then it was time to get into Durban.
Partners and friends were down in Durbs too, to do race day support and offer assistance where they could. One big happy family, the time flies after visiting the expo, getting groceries for the next few days and then supper. Being a part of Kenfac is a very social thing. Everyone helps, like the mafia, if you’re a friend and Aunty Shamilla or Aunty Shariffa have made you a cup of coffee at the Gazebo then you’re a friend of Kenfac. They give you the rubber stamp which allows you to get race day support. We planned the race route really well and Nabielah got the flags done which was a masterstroke. The route was lined with people and that certainly made things easier.
The day before the race is always a busy one for me, I need the run around for peace of mind and it helps me fall asleep quickly. Of course I pop two beta sleep pills and that sends me to La La land. Alarm set for 02:55, after falling asleep around 6pm it felt like I slept for 10 minutes when my alarm sounded. It was go time. Vania made us breakfast, our bags were packed, the ladies were getting us ready for our photos, we packed the car, Ezzo said a great prayer which was really important. We done the same thing last year and it got us home.
The walk to the start is great, everyone is buzzing, Durbs is alive with possibility. The City Hall area is a festival, everyone and their dog is outside. Wishing runners well as they go into their seeding pens to make a dash for PMB. I lost my Battalion brothers in the masses of people, but it wasn’t a concern, I knew I’d see the lads later. We trained hard. Harder than before to get this done. I walk around hug Lameez and chat to Faizel before Lee Anne goes into Paparazzi mode, a few pics and off I go. I spot Wasfie we exchange a few pleasantries before I head off to my pen. To find Mo, someone told me he had on a yellow T-Shirt. Cool, should be easy to find. It wasn’t. I was resigned to running this race on my own but out of nowhere he pops up. Cool, I get to run with a bra who doesn’t really talk much. In the pen the energy builds up, the dude on the mic is talking shit about Elite athletes and racing and the breakdown of how the race starts. I was ready, I wanted to get going. I look at Mo, this bugger had tears in his eyes already, because I was a good friend, I said nothing. Mo is very emotional at races, I believe it fires him up. Then Shosholoza and our Anthem, this time the Anthem gets me good. It usually doesn’t but for some reason it got me real good, lumpy throat, slightly tense and boom there goes the gun, press start on the watch and we go nowhere. By the time we cross the start line the Front runners have done 1,5km.
Like clockwork, just after the race starts a toilet stop is necessary, it’s dark, it’s cold and finding a corner in Town just doesn’t happen. The streets are lined with people, unlucky for some shop owner, I had to let go of the vitamin juice outside his shop, I look around, Mo is standing waiting. “Almost done bru!” We start rolling again, just past West Street Cemetery there are at least 50 guys taking a leak on the dead. Rude, disrespectful pigs. The climb to Berea or Tollgate is a killer, research tells you to hold back, you’ve already been pulled by the crowd of runners so here is the opportunity to be disciplined. Ignore the Hill and your race will end in Pinetown. It is a nasty steep hill, you don’t notice it, because it is early, the weather is great and you have an abundance of energy. Run three poles, walk one. Nazli pops up, as does Mallick and we were a mini group going through our run walk strategy for a bit.
Out of town, top of Berea a slight drop and then we get 45th Cutting, another climb this one steeper than the others but shorter. You get to the top and it is great, crowds are wishing you well, great job, keep going and of course one idiot, “nearly there bru”. Another dip and then the highway to Westville, approx. 7km of a climb, long and gradual, the only danger here was the road works and the massive cat eyes. I needed another toilet stop, pulled over to the side of the road and decided to make it rain on some cars on the road below us. Sorry guys, that wasn’t rain. That pit stop made me lose Mo and Naz. From there I was on my own. Westville to Cowies, cruising, not chasing them because that would be a futile exercise. Cowies on the up run isn’t even a Hill but the smell of bacon, eggs, sausages and coffee was a bit much. All I had was a race bar and some other stuff, nothing fancy like a sandwich.
Through Pinetown you hit the St John’s timing mat and you are registered on the tracker, your family goes wild back home. Only 6 more timing mats to go. I see a former colleague, Rukeya Samaai, I hear her shout my name I wanted to stop and hug her but the clock was moving, it was a scene out of a Bollywood movie, time stood dead still for what seemed an eternity. It was good to see a familiar face, especially that early into the race. Through the subway and onto Field’s Hill, I go past JJ and Ashraf both these bastards were nursing little niggles. JJ was on his way to his back to back but he was running on the 10h30 finish pace, I gave him some stern words because he’s a friend and he needs to be safe with that foot of his. Mallick wanted nothing to do with me up Field’s Hill. I said I’m gonna walk up here he said, “I’m going to walk more.” This guy has a great sense of humour at the best of times. Field’s Hill takes a while, lots of winding to the top but there was this Brazilian lady in front of me with great legs so I followed her, such a wonderful motivator.
After Fields it flattens out, not really, it’s just less of a climb through Kloof to Hillcrest and there’s some more life, the crowds are out cheering you on. I was in a vest, all these people in Jackets, Jeans and Boots. It must have been cold. Past the fire station and still no sight of Mo and Naz. Solo for 20kms already, after Hillcrest there’s a little drop to the bottom of Bothas Hill. This is the fun part of the race, Jeff’s bus pops up somewhere, I join in, the manne are singing and it was great, until Jeff decides to go for a toilet break. The bus walks, people start getting nervous. “AAAAAH Jeff, where are you? You must come Jeff! Where is Jeff? Jeff, hurry up!” Jeff was taking a leak, probably pissing into middle earth, I decided this walking with these nervous impatient people was annoying, off I went. Then I saw Riaad, “Ang the girls are ahead on your left” great some supplies, anything cold would be welcome. Yumna, Nabielah and the Golden Girls and Joe. They give such energy these friendly faces, it was here I realised that they were getting cold… Janey’s shoulders were still covered.
Later girls, time to climb Bothas, JESUS CHRIST!!!! This hill is a thing. It just keeps coming. Up, up, up, left bend, up, right bend, up, up, up, up. Damn school kids from Kearsney College come walking down, “keep going guys, you looking good” In 2017 my race was done here. I was completely shattered, I still remember a kid offering to get me salt. I wish I could have high fived that youngster this time around. I kept trucking, to the top, don’t stop. Looking out for Tamsyn, Vania, Latetia and Franchel. I saw the car in Lello road, so they had to be close… Aah there’s the flags, boom. Change of race pack chicken mayo sandwich and a photo, see y’all later guys. Checking up on people behind me, Tamsyn says they’re all still moving. Did you see Mo? Ya, he’s just ahead. GREAT, finally I can run with a pal a little. I see him, the sun was out his white cap was back to front. Looking like Sly Stallone but not Stallone from Rocky. I catch up, how you doing I ask. He says “They weren’t lying about the up run hey, I feel sick” Okay let’s find a valoid. I ask the first person I see, that person looked at me like I was talking Old English. The guy was really confused. I went searching for my kind of sick pal, eventually two ladies at the Fourways Road Runners Gazebo had one, and it certainly made a difference to Mo. We kept a run walk strategy going. The area between the top of Bothas Hill to the top of Inchanga was tough, the sun had come out to play and it made things tougher. Once you get to the top of Inchanga you feel a bit better but then your heart breaks a little bit. On both sides of the road the kids from Ethembeni School are brought out by the school staff and they make your day, whatever happens after you see the kids doesn’t matter. You high five them, hug them, fist bump them and they give you a massive pick up, not after leaving you with a moerse lump in your throat. That energy spike is necessary for what comes next… Harrison Flats, which takes you to the Cato Ridge cut off point. That stretch is similar to Paarden Eiland in Cape Town Marathon. It is rubbish. I can’t say anything more about that shit hole. The best thing I saw there were the sunburnt faces of our Kenfac Supporters. The Kenfac flag was a masterstroke. I’ve since been left by Mo, rude bastard got me back for Two Oceans. I soldiered on, taking my horse to the old town road.
Again I see a Kenfac flag, more Lucozade and Nabielah the Wise one had a bompie. A fucking apple bompie. Genius move. It felt like home, brain freeze and home. Exactly what I needed there. A little further on we head into another dirty part of the race, the Cato Ridge cut off. Prior to that cut off fuckall was going on. The route is quiet, I ended up chatting to a lady about the traffic on the left of us on the N3. She said “my poor husband is there” the oke was making his way to Umlaas road to offer her supplies. She asked about time and cut offs and I assured her she’ll be okay. She was still in very good shape, her first Comrades but she was having a good day. We hit the cut-off point and I left her there. Comrades cut-offs are tough at least the the 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th points. Breaking the race down is important, actually vital to your success. You’re hardly ever in control of the race, the race owns you and plays with you. However it can’t be treated like a marathon or two marathons. Too much is at stake. Mind you, a steak along the route would also be great. The number of roadside braais, chargrilled meat, and typically South African cuisine on a Sunday lingers through the midday air. Between the Cato Ridge and Umlaas Road cut-off area there are a few landmarks. Two mosques, KFC, bottle stores and a host of people who are willing you to pick up the pace. You want to oblige but if you do, you could blow your race. There is still 29km to go from Cato Ridge to Scottsville and the climbs have not ended. Actually it is a gradual climb with loads of unknown bumps. 2017 around this area I was flirting with danger. The clock was moving too fast for my dead legs. This time around I had 40 odd minutes in the bank to get to the next cut off point where Tamsyn and the girls had the last of my supplies. Some Threshhold for the pain, endurolytes to replenish the lost electrolytes and some progast to settle the gut and add to the hydration levels. I also had one last bottle of BCAA’s which would be sufficient to carry me to the end and of course the good old chicken mayo roll. Now not to be cocky or arrogant in my story telling but with 20kms to go to the medal gantry in Scottsville it takes a special kind of idiot to utter the words, “Thanks ladies, see you in Pietermaritzburg.” I had 3 whole hours to run 20kms. On my worst day I would have pissed those 20kms. So I knew after spending enough time doing my recon and research I had it in the bag. What I did not know was the amount of hills still to come. I remember Clinton telling me to take a piss against that cut-off sign. I really wanted to but that would have been disgusting. I continue trotting along making my way to the dreaded Polly Shortts. Which was about 7km away.
Getting to Polly’s was tough, a few bumps along the way and some very steep downs. The key here was to walk when necessary and with purpose. Strolling would cause time loss so boxing smart in this 12km section between Umlaas Road Cut-off and the Top of Polly’s was imperative. Faezah catches up to me and said, she needs to get done. I look at my watch and checked that we had more than 2 hours to go. With Polly’s on the horizon and the sun going down in the distance. I kept my smarts about me, whipped out my pace chart and gave her a gentle reminder, we were okay and the medal was in the bag. She’s as tough as nails that girl. A really impressive runner that doesn’t say much but she is loads of fun. You get to see people’s nature when they’ve been exposed by a moerse long road race. Emotions take over and it becomes a true test of character. Those two hours I spent on the old road with her flew by quickly but I made sure that she was comfortable in the approach to Scottsville. I think she’s going to want to punch me if she decides to read this. She can swear, she can be grumpy but she can’t stay serious for long. So we heading down into Little Polly’s which was tough, the drop was steep and painful on the quads.
Getting to the top of Little Polly’s was okay, dropping down the back of Little Polly’s was also kak. Then we get to Polly Shortts and a gentleman decides to announce at the top of his voice. “Welcome to Polly Shortts guys”.
A 1.7km climb that would be a non-event on any other day, you get this bastard with 9kms to go. Nobody needs to say anything, you just get to work and walk properly, a lady from Bluff AC was doing her 23rd Comrades. I asked her if she also wanted to do one Comrades and she said “yes, but I fooled myself and I see you’re also a fool like me” A light-hearted moment to the top of Polly’s. All while my date Faezah wasn’t enjoying herself. I think her soup had a fly in it. We get to the top and the energy to roll comes back. Alas, another fucking hill, and another and another until we start going down through the suburbs. You see the lights at the stadium, photographers, I point them out to my partner who may have flashed one or two smiles. I tried my best to get her to laugh, with 2km to go I do a video interview with her and it goes along the lines of me saying congratulations and we doing this again next year, her reply was: “Fuck that, I’m done, I’m not coming back, oh fuck off!” I had a great laugh, when entries open I’ll see her name on the start list if God allows. I phoned Tamsyn, the conversation goes like this: “hey babe, not far to go, you are speaking to the owner of an up run medal, she said she was at the finish standing against the rails somewhere”. In the final km there was a dude from Gugulethu AC with a closed bottle of water, I needed some he offered, I drank half of it quickly, I tore off to get back to my date. Now, tv time at Comrades is my thing, it was time to get ready, making memories with my pal. Red light on camera means it is beaming live to the people back home. Under the race course subway there were 2 cameras. Around the bend there was another and on the home straight there were two or three more. Now the finish is the worst in the world, it’s similar to Cape Peninsula. We go through at a frantic pace, I hear and see Tamsyn shouting, I give her a wave, we carry on and I see Ashraf Mallick there, shouting like a mad man, “ANGIE, ANGIE, ANGIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” It’s great to see your mates at the end, all the guys want the best for everyone. We don’t have kak friends at Kenfac SAC.
Faezah and I finish the race hand in hand, arms up celebrating a massive effort of bravery, tenacity and desire to get from Durban to Scottsville to get that tiny medal. I am no hugger but the sigh of relief made me hug this skinny long legged woman. I think she cried a little but I wasn’t going to mess with her. She needed her asthma pump but first let’s get our medals, I lost her in the process, got my medal and the badge and a bottle of water. Off to tog bag collection phoned Tamsyn and when I got to her, tears and a sigh of relief took over. I have never been that emotional at a race, but two years on, working my socks off to get the coveted Comrades medal meant so much. Medal number 3 into my collection and a sense of achievement. Comrades 2019 hurt. Sizonqoba, Together we Triumph.
So who do I say thank you to, first of all. God, the man above decides what happens to you. You are never in control. Our supporters on race day, Vania, Latetia, Franchel, Yumna, Janey, Fazlin, Riaad, Joe, Cameron, Thofier, Jimmy, Nabielah, Faizel, Lee Anne and I am sure I have forgotten someone. Tamsyn, for allowing me the time to run and keep going to get shit done. My physio Dylan, a friend who I believe is going to run Comrades with me one day. Wasfie, for guidance and being level headed and making sure we believe in ourselves. Ezzo, Merlin, Liaan and JJ, these men are something else. We hold each other accountable as we continue to live the dream. The Kenfac buddies, Nazier, Saleh, Mo and Clinton, I do not know a stranger bunch of people but the dynamic works well. We laugh, make fun of one another but ultimately we stay true to our friendship and desire to be successful in this sport. Rushda, Rasheeda, Elzaine and Faezah… These girls and I formed quite the relationship over the last few months. I’ve seen them at their grumpiest, without make up and horrible personalities. I can’t express the joy that came over me when I saw them and their medals. I also felt a sense of pride in their achievements. Thanks girls. Fadeelah and Adiel, two very different individuals, two nerds but Fadeelah is all business, rigid, hijab runner, fighting a good fight and fair play to her for being the strong person and athlete she is. Adiel, is a funny guy, he’s honest and arguably the worst guy at a photoshoot. Lameez, she taught me a life lesson, determination and to live life your way. Work hard, play hard but always make the decision that best suits you. She’s a hero.
Comrades is romantic, it is an event that consumes you. You learn to love it, you hate it a little and most of all you never forget it. When you on the old main road between Durban and Pietermaritzburg you feel horrible, you feel great and you are never alone. You go to some real dark places in your mind but I doubt any of those feelings compare to what the soldiers of years gone by went through. People often ask me why I do this. I do it because I can, I do it because it makes me believe that I am tough. Nothing is impossible once you’ve done the comrades, you can’t say no to drive to Hout bay on a Sunday afternoon with your wife because it’s far. Hout bay is around the fucking corner, to be honest from my house to Hout bay is around 30kms.
When I start training again the end goal will be The Comrades. It is the Hurt locker. I’ll sign up to have my 40th birthday party on the road, consider yourself invited to the 25000 man street party, it will be my birthday. Do not bring naartjie energade. 14 June 2020, stiek uit we can train together in December. God bless and take care.
Entries for Comrades sell out in no time, with Social media having a massive role to play in this. Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Strava, Garmin Connect and Whatsapp. Most of us let you know we are runners, not to show off or belittle your lifestyle but instead we put these images of success and disappointment to show you how tough the human spirit is. Trust me your existence can really be tested.
We plot and plan our way forward, target races, target times, which events to run hard, which events to cruise and we work hard to get there. You develop a bond with friends and clubmates who soon become family. Just like family you’ll have good and bad times. That is perfectly normal or atleast that’s my experience since 2015 when I really got stuck into road running. Before you know it, it consumes you and your family, more about that later…
Soon enough training is fun, the weather is better the days are longer and hibernation is a thing of the past. Spring brings great fresh weather and an opportunity to test your legs as the qualifying season for Ultra marathons dawn upon us. With a twist. Comrades says ola, sub 4:50. Excuse me, 10minutes off. How the hell do I do this now? Facebook goes insane, the buzz at races shift and people start to fear their goals.
So many of us rolled up our sleeves, shifted the goalposts and got to work. Smarter training, more effort and definitely more reward. Boom, qualifiers getting ticked off all over the place. It is the spirit within us all that makes it possible. This is Cape Town. Here we dala what we must… Don’t wys me man.
After everyone got their cruel intentions of pending self mutilation out of the way it was down to plotting the way forward for friends, club mates or family. I say family because running builds a bond between people. Thankfully the bond is stronger than the toe nails you will lose.
This edition was meant to be a bumper edition, training plans were being drafted in November. At Spur in Plattekloof Ezzo and I had breakfast and plotted the way forward for ourselves. Then I took it apart some more and the 2019 KENFAC Comrades training schedule was born. Wasfie gave it the thumbs up, he would be absent for a while, this guy had an Ironman event that consumed him. Respect to the guru. He had a wonderful day in PE.
Winelands, Peninsula and Cango. Qualifiers for all. We did it, 18 of us off to Durban to tackle the UP run. Sizonqoba. We trained together, participated in races together, midweek training runs, shared info, farts, food and water. Everyone had the same intention, run hard, run far, eat plenty and run some more.
I can’t praise club members enough for their support especially the Twins on Decks. Aunty Shamilla and Aunty Shariffa your dedication and kindness to the marathon and ultra marathon groups will be missed on Sunday. You two are Kenfac. Bless you.
Family members offering support on our long runs and having to make do with our limited participation in functions. This is a lifestyle that consumed family time, we took the plunge together.
I spent quite some time over the few months running with Rushda, Lameez, Elzaine, Faezah, Nazier and Rasheeda when she decided to get out of bed. These guys are champions, many early morning runs. Often at ungodly hours. Come 11am people were falling asleep at their desks. I’ve been running next to Rushda since John Korasie 2018, she’s a trusty sidekick with bundles of determination and energy, we must have run 500kms together, I back you, even though you swore at me. If you by some chance happen to look into her eyes you’ll see the determination there.
I ran two marathons with Lameez, don’t be fooled by her smile, she can raafle uit. As she mentioned to me once, she was born an Adams, remember the cause Mrs Isaacs.
I took Rasheeda up Kloof Nek a few times, her selfie game which is usually on point, faded up the hills, she has quite a potty mouth.
Elzaine and Faezah the golden girls. Never in my life have I met two friends who are completely difference. One talks, one doesn’t. They give each other hell but it is entertaining.
Nazier, what a champion… Club man deluxe, there isn’t anyone he hasn’t assisted this season. He’s gone the distance, his nerves kicked in but he’s as good as gold.
Comrades version 1 brothers Mo and Saleh, here we go again lads. Let’s make another incredible memory.
Merlin, Ezzo, Liaan and JJ, we keep on keeping on boys. Almost time to take a break, it has been a bumpy ride. Our mini Battalion is back minus one, let’s make a full house again.
Adiel, be strong lad, trust the process. You’ve done more than enough. Make the jokes and if you struggling find someone who is worse off, talk to them and kap aan once you feel better.
Wasfie take them home brother, hopefully they bring their best personalities for the ride. Eno and burps for the win champ.
Zahir, Yaseen, Soleigh, Fadeelah, Ashraf and Nicci. You folks are as ready as can be, I’ve stalked your strava, I’ve seen you run, I’ve checked out whatever I could. Go out there and be incredible. The training you’ve done is more than enough to get your medal. One step at a time, be fearless, be respectful and be kind. Hold back that’s all I can say now.
Thank you all for the lessons learned, advice given and memories made thus far. Thanks for the assistance when I was missing in action, the lifts, the experiences, the emotional rollercoaster and most of all the jokes.
This race will break us all at least 5 times but what matters is how you stand up to the battle. Fire in the belly and Ice in the veins, back yourself, race against the clock. Cut off point to cut off point. Seven mini races over the course and when you laying in your hotel bed on Sunday Night with that prestigious medal around your neck you will be a Comrade, much like those who have gone before us. God bless, run well.
A Champion is someone who gets up when they can’t.
The Two Oceans marathon number 4 this year. Something about this race that keeps me going back. Now that I have experienced both routes I can give a breakdown of which was a better route.
I don’t write these blogs for comparisons, I write about the lead up to the event and the recap. The good and bad. The fun that I had over the last few months getting ready for race day.
A long training period, lots of running, plenty early morning runs which were fun in the summer months but the fun fades quickly as the summer months fade away. The cold 5am runs are no longer fun, they’re actually horrible. The company is great but nobody really wanted to be running in the dark. We were a small group of complaining adults. Saleh, Elzaine, Rushda and Rasheeda. Nazier popped up from time to time. Then we had weekend long runs and Wednesday afternoon longish runs. Wednesday afternoon runs were tougher, City Bowl heat, breathtaking views and again good company, Dullah, Iekie, Saleh, Weshaam, Rasheeda, Rushda (when she wasn’t in PE running on the kak Boardwalk) and Shirnel. I’d like Rasheeda and Rushda to give insight about those runs. I may have been cursed by them once or twice. Unlucky for them I take no prisoners.
Training done, goals set and boom race day. There we were in our ponchos, jackets, buffs and bundles of nerves. The day is a long one, awake at 03h00 to run at 06h40. Only runners and their families will understand this situation. Meet at the back of E Pen was the plan, we got together for a few selfies, hugs and well wishes. A very festive vibe at the start of Two Oceans. Music, singing, chit chat and nerves. Looking around you get to see veterans with 20 odd completed runs, some going for number 10 and some doing their first one. The special one.
Kenfac bus, driver Wasfie Adams the reliable go to guy if you need to be dragged in he’ll do that for you, literally. The guy is too fit, we need to get him involved in those 100mile events. Mo and I had plans of a Bronze medal, Omtom bronze medal pace is anti-social. A few jokes here and there but the focus was getting to the halfway mark for supplies for us. Tamsyn had those ready, with her was Antoinette my old sister and Kendall my niece. Omtom is a family day.
Before that, Vania had a bottle of vuma prepared by Ezzo, got that at the 10km mark. It’s great to see friendly familiar faces along the route.
Cape Town had a 4 seasons day. Typical. Conditions started out great, nice and cool, then rain and then the sun came out to rest just above my bald head.
Mo was a man on a mission, we were on track through 25km, got the supplies but I had to turn back because I forgot my supplement stash. I tried to catch up with Mo but the guy was strong going up Ou Kaapse weg. Halfway up I realised my sub 6 wasn’t happening. Good thing I got a bottle before Ou Kaapse Weg because it was tough going up. A good challenge which is probably tougher than Chapman’s Peak that’s obviously my opinion. Eventually at the very top there was some life, a water station, a toilet which I had to use. The idea of going in the bush again wasn’t going to happen. Cape Cobras and Puff Adders live on the mountain. There are better ways to die. So Ou Kaapse Weg became Ou Kakste Weg, the less I talk about that the better.
Going down took forever, it has a Fields hill vibe about it, exceptional views but tough on the quads. In the distance the quads of Pollsmoor could be seen. I’d rather run up and down Ou Kaapse Weg everyday for a month than lam in those quads. Nangaani.
Onwards to the marathon mark we go, Lameez’s family Lee-Anne, Zubayr and Alia had Apple Bompies. Legends I say. That was a welcome change to the coke, water and powerade that was provided. A little further on Tamsyn was there again this time there was a chair set up for me, a sit down and an orange or two. Some jokes and then she chased me away. Very aggressive.
Southern cross se moer. After running for 40 odd kms then this son of a bitch comes, but that wasn’t the soul destroyer, the ridiculous loop at the top. I’m sure 16000 including Bongmusa must have uttered WTF! The Blue bus caught up to me and then the fun started, Wasfie is hilarious when innvus driver mode, “come on everybody, we going to dance to Kirstenbosch gardens!” not a single soul smiled. Classic.
8kms to the finish, then the snipers came out for my thighs. Bastards, fitness is an issue. Soldiering on to the finish lucky for me my smile and grimace is the same thing. Faizel popped up out of nowhere, good to see the excited look on his face. Lameez was on her way.
Jerome and I were playing cat and mouse, great to have a chat with the man, he had a great reason to complete this beast of a race. I told him, come we run up Chet’s hill. His response was, “is jy befok” off I went. I saw the Kenfac bus in the distance, trying to get back there for more jokes. It was tough, tired legs but all worth it. Club gazebo on the Island at Rhodes Memorial, thanks Chairman for the early wake up. High fives and 850m to fetch a medal. Got to the group just in time to cross the line in a sea of blue, black, yellow and salty faces.
Congrats to all the club mates and friends for their achievements. Thanks to all the supporters and shout out to Tamsyn, she makes race days worth it.
Thanks for reading, there’s our medals, Omtom 2020 I’ll see you then. Bye.
My new post race dress code. Towel man wrap. Underpants are optional.
This running journey started in 2014. A 10km road race that took forever. A few more 10km events, a half marathon in Gordons Bay and then Omtom half Marathon. Then the hype fizzled out like an effervescent tablet in a glass of water.
2015 more of the same, just running on willpower and determination to get to the finish line of the chosen event for that day. Until August 2015 when things really kicked off after getting a better understanding of the sport. From messing around with a half marathon I entered a 30km run in Simonstown. A lovely chilly morning greeted me. I’ll never forget the pain and anguish after that race.
Then it was a good idea to enter a Marathon they said. It will be fun is what they also said. More pain followed. Now it had become addictive. This runner’s high business is a real thing. Once you get over that line all is forgotten. What struggle? When did it hurt? When is the next event?
With each event the medal collection grows. A 5km fun run, many 10km runs, a few 15km runs, many half marathons, a few 30km runs, 5 standard marathons and 3 ultra marathons. Yes, I am proud of those achievements 2 Omtom 56km races and the holy grail, The Ultimate Human race also completed, the Comrades down run in the bag. Nothing very down about it, if anything only the last 5km is downhill.
This year I go back for the special medal, the Back2Back but this time I’m alone. No club mates. The support, energy and memories we shared since 2015 won’t be there on race day. My Comrades will be observing the holy month of Ramadaan. It’s not something they can get out of. I am sure they want to be there but there will always be another race for them to run. No doubt I can count on any of them to accompany me on one of my training runs over the next few weeks. Running is in our blood now, we can’t escape it. We are addicted. Right, Saleh, Mo, Wasfie, Anwar, Ashraf, Ruqqiyah, Ahmed and Aneesa?
Last year when we were running through the Natal Midlands we came across a very famous school. The Ethembeni School for the physically disabled and visually impaired child. If this section of the race doesn’t give you a lump in your throat or bring you to tears then I am afraid you have wired wrong by the man above. http://ethembenischool.co.za/
So when I entered Comrades after much thought and discussion with Tamsyn we decided it would be great to attempt getting that back 2 back medal. You only get one chance at it. I also decided to run for a charity. One of the Comrades listed beneficiaries https://www.starfishcharity.org/get-involved-sa they’re an institution that deals with orphaned and neglected kids. Everyone has a story and each one of these kids must have a remarkable story.
I set a target of R10000 to raise before the 2nd May 2017 and I’m currently on R6300 thanks to the generous donations of my friends and family members. I need a minimum of R3700 to feel satisfied. Running for myself no longer appeals to me. Running for a cause of this magnitude may not be the only cause going forward. How does one choose a charity? Is there a perfect choice or do we choose one that we identify with. Who knows? All I know is that I want to make a difference and get that special medal.
I’ve trained for it and now I’m begging for your support too. Any amount is welcome, so follow the link or copy and paste it into your browser and follow the steps to be a part of a life changing experience for someone who needs it more than us. https://secure.onreg.com/onreg2/personal/profile.php?recordid=8316&eventid=3361
Race day, early and dark. A 2km walk to the start because everyone and his dog participates in the Two Oceans. We parked close enough to the finish for me to crawl to the car afterwards. Mo, Nazier, Wasfie, Ahmed and I trotting along the main road to the start. It’s go time, Mo and Wasfie head to their pens. Proper race horses those two and they were very successful today.
Start line, anthem, shosholoza, the blowing of a horn and chariots of fire. Then the gun goes off and we crawl, going nowhere slowly. Saleh, Nazier, Ahmed, my pal Ryan West and I. Bunched up trying to do a minibus as per race planning and much discussion leading up to race day. We went through Lakeside and Muizenberg together and once we were in the sun things got serious. Fish Hoek remains a blur amongst lots of cursing, I hate that place. We reach Noordhoek at a great pace time in the bag as per pacing chart. We good to go over Little Chappies and Big Chappies. Somewhat easier than before. Saleh was running well so he was gone, that’s our own rule if you feeling good, kap aan meneer. Couple of other soldiers fell off along the way. Nazier and I complete Chappies making terrible jokes as well. Down into Hout Bay or the Devil’s armpit, marathon mark and I was on my own. Nazier go bru, “I’ve been here before” is what I was thinking. He was strong, not one cramp, bastard. Yet again Hout Bay and Constantia Nek took control of me until the familiar voice of an incredible Kenfac runner, Ashraf Scholtz pipes up “let’s go brother, I’ve got no bar ones”. Off we go, with a serious run walk strategy up the Nek. We get to the top dejavu strikes, the blue vests get smaller and smaller, 6h45 bus long gone, 7h00 bus just gone, in Cecelia Forest all hell breaks loose in the form of rigamortis. Legs, 2 of them stiff as a board. Cramps everywhere, rendering me useless every so often. Thankfully it’s a gentle downhill and I could roll through. I hear two buddies call me, in quick succession “hey bra get on the bus quick” says Ashraf Mallick unlucky for me that wasn’t to be. Yazeed Emeran spots me cramping up without my shoe on. He says, “come there’s still time!” he assists in cramp relief. True soldier that boy. Off he goes, a friendly marshall puts my shoe on for me, my Cinderella moment. Left, right, the body reluctantly follows.
Kirstenbosch was rough, I got through that section alone last year. Experienced the same pains only in different sunlight this time around. M3 not much time left. Cramp, cramp, cramp and some of the worst run walk strategies in place will be found near the end of Ultra cut off. I can assure you that not one individual is having a comfortable time right now. Hill at 55km but why? I ask myself yet again. What am I running for? Self pride, determination and to write a blog at 23h45 about the experience.
Down the hill onto UCT sports fields, I have fans, my name is shouted, my mind acknowledging the masses, my hands forgot to wave, it is here you realise your mind and body are no longer friends. I waved somewhere at someone. Then Tamsyn was spotted, as per my usual race day ending I run over and kiss her the clock didn’t matter. 2 minutes for 200m I think.
I hear my mum shouting my name but not like when I was a kid getting up to mischief. It was a cry of pride and joy. I couldn’t turn back too many strugglers like me that I would have hampered.
I don’t cry at races, no matter how painful it is. The emotion of this race took it out of me. Tamsyn comes around medal around her neck and her 21km shirt on. Proud of her. A comforting embrace and tears follows. Mine, not hers. This race took everything I had and kept on asking for more. I delievered yet again by the Grace of God and lots of placebo effect cocktails on the way in.
06h58:17 seconds.
The intention of running a 6:30 time is something I failed at, horribly so. I live and continue to learn.
Congrats to the Kenfac finishers, achievers, PB smashers and our twin aunties. They make sure that things are sorted. From food to massages they are there for us. Right now I can’t see as far as next Easter. Only time will tell.
Damn you Kenfac, 5 marathons that I had no intention of doing. This time around more plans and training in the bag. So it seemed perfect that the thought of attempting a PB in this marathon was a good one. This was also a bad decision at the same time.
Last week a buddy asked me if I was planning to change my comrades qualifier details. I didn’t think about it too long, “let’s see what happens at Peninsula.”
Almost like I’m a super athlete, what an amazing chuckle that was after I finished the marathon.
Race morning, lifts are sorted off we go to town in Nazier’s bakkie. Smokers in the smoking room “kattebak”, non-smokers in Business class. Almost prayer time to be observed and as usual I’m on security guard duty. The humour that fajr salaah brings is weird in the sense that people are not used to seeing my pals pray in the morning so when they walk past they change direction like a rugby player sidestepping an opponent. The move is actually breathtaking.
We split up, Wasfie and Mo went to the front with the Kenyans, I didn’t feel the race vibe, I stayed put and this meant no PB for me. We were at the back cracking jokes waiting for the gun to go off. Kenfac bus fully operational with extras as driver Saleh allowed. Bang, here we go, time to boogie. Conditions were horrible from Green Point all the way to Simonstown. Yes, we ran from Green Point to Simonstown via Fish Hoek (Devil’s Country) as Nazier calls it.
Guards on duty, to collect water. Scholtz, Isaacs and I. Felt good serving the public, we done a better job than the government. We couldn’t wait to get to Yumna, she was hanging about on the Main road but like a proper lady not like that other stuff that likes to hang out with their stuff out on the main road.
Destination reached, two members fell off the bus. Technical and health difficulties they go again next time. Waleed still going strong, head tilted to the west, we blame the wind because he was still smiling. 30km mark broken bones, my legs start twitching. Oh dear, weak bum muscles and groins working too hard. Time to manage 12km’s.
Fish Hoek, fuck Fish Hoek. Cramps, again. Same as last year. My bra Scholtz, the Black Stallion, “Angelo you need to go to church, jy vloek te veel!” This bra giving me a daddy lecture, again.
Don’t know where we were but I told him, go bra, don’t let me keep you back. I need the mental torture to make me a bitter runner. Yes, bitter because that’s what Fish Hoek does. The sandwiches were lovely. South easter sauce all over those fluffy grains of sand, next time I run through FH my mouth will be closed.
Marathon done, way off the pace but all bodes well for Kenfac Running club. People love us, we love the sport, sometimes we hate it but more often than not we have loads of fun creating ridiculous memories every step of the way.
The end of every race is great, Kenfac Supporters and our faster runners always there cheering us on. Congratulations to all marathon runners and half-marathon runners.
Thanks for the memories Cape Peninsula, gone with the wind…
So, the big show done and dusted. I return to the football field for half a season, dabbled in some golf and there is the onset of cricket season on the horizon.
Comrades was great, training for the Comrades was so much more difficult than the actual race. Now to stay motivated enough to train for a standard marathon, a standard 42.2km marathon.
This is where humility comes in. You can not set a target time and not train for it just because you ran the Comrades. Last year Cape Town marathon broke me in 3 places, physically, mentally and in Plein Street. I have never looked back at that race, it was ground breaking for me. I didn’t have fun, I was clueless and very naive. Since then I’ve learned some lessons about this running game. There’s a saying that if you surround yourself with like minded people you will have an easier passage. Thankfully I managed to join a fantastic running club with really good people who are prepared to motivate, assist and keep one another in check.
So, training for this marathon has been hard, not because I plan to run it faster but because I have become lazy. I have struggled to stay motivated and I haven’t ran with my group of friends that guided me so much last year.
2 weeks to go, I got 2 long runs under my belt, a few short ones, some unintentional speed work from football. Now I start praying for running mercies and good weather on race day.
In the lead up to Comrades, friends often asked: “Angie, are you ready for this bra?” I would tell Tamsyn about this and we would laugh. The enormity of the task ahead had not set in. My response to that question would be. “I’ll know at 5:30pm on race day if I am ready, whatever happens, happens.”
My friends, clubmates, their wives and my fiancé have been nothing short of amazing over these last few months. This was taxing on my life and I can’t begin to think how it affected Tamsyn. I am eternally grateful that God sent her my way. She’s been my number 1 supporter, making sandwiches, packing food parcels, standing on the side of the road with food, drink, protein shakes, arnica oil, biscuits and whatever else we may need, wearing sloffies and socks, there are pics to prove this. She drove around Durban like she grew up here, in our little hired vehicle.
29 May 2016, 01h00 alarm 1 goes off. I snooze it. 01h05 alarm 2 happens and we both wake up. “Tamsyn, stay in bed,” I say. Time to make breakfast, flap jacks, bacon, eggs and coffee. I shovel all that food down and time to get ready for the race. Do what I normally do on race day but the nerves started to creep in as well as an overwhelming sense of fear.
All dressed, at 02h30 used the toilet numerous times, mostly just to sit and hope something happens. We leave. Meeting point Durban beachfront with friends, brothers, sisters and a few thousand others. A big smooch on Tamsyn’s lips and she says: “see you later, you’ve got this.” She reassured me many times, she somehow knew she had to.
In the line to get on a bus to cold Pietermaritzburg with Team Kenfac and our Tjommie Aneesa. We crack jokes, talk nonsense, creep into a mindless sleep for a moment and boom. Pietermaritzburg!! Ruqqiyah is there, excited to see us as we are to see her. The team is together, briefly. We say see you later, as we split into our different pens. Wasfie, Mo and I move off. Solo in our respective pens. It was here when I got really nervous.
The National Anthem, Shosholoza, Chariots of fire and the rooster. Then the canon and we don’t move at all. Time for a silent prayer, I look up to the skies to ask my dad and granny for some guidance.
Eventually we get going, Maritzburg is cold, really, really cold. As far as I could see all I saw were the bobbing heads of runners. Running alone sucks. Out of the bush, pops Mo. He said he had to walk but I think he went to popo. No shame in that, he discussed his cleansing kit with me two days earlier. So we climb for a bit and then he goes, peace signs up, see you later bro. Weg is hy!
The sunrise was a beaut, after we hit Polly’s. Of course I still don’t know where I am. Too cold to think, just keep following those infront of me.
I hear a gentleman shouting at people, he’s running too. 27 Comrades finishes. I decide to pick his brain. Faizel is his name pronounced Fay-zil. Must be a Durban thing and all.
Lion Park, aunty Gasnola and Ike are there, cheering smiling, taking pics and waving.
Camperdown, Yumna Martin shouting like a mad man, “do you want anything?!!?” No thanks, I keep going.
Ahmed catches up to me, talking rubbish about running sub11:30, I swore at him, made him understand what was ahead of us. He stuck with me. Tamsyn was at Cato Ridge with supplies, her friendly yet trembling voice calling my name. It felt amazing to see her, I missed her for 30km. I ate like it was a buffet. Fruit, chicken sandwiches, protein goodies and off I went. The rest of Kenfac had caught up and went over the hill. I tell Tamsyn, “see you in Durban babe, I love you.”
Off I go after my morning tea break. I catch up with Kenfac and it from here that I start to get the true sense of this race. Camaraderie, all of us together, enjoying the moment. Anwar, Ahmed, Saleh, Ruqqiyah, Uncle Nasser comes and goes. We move, counting kilometre boards, working out things, walking, breathing, stretching, making videos… There was a gees, it was wonderful. All that changed in an instant. Inchanga, wow!! Gruelling. I don’t remember much about that part other than climbing in the hot sun, we complained and we walked.
Eventually we found ourselves picking up the pace to get to Drummond. Cut off point met with minutes to spare. Squeaky bum moment indeed.
Now I don’t remember much else of the next few kilometres other than a run-walk period forced on us by the lovely hills that KZN had to offer.
Energade, water, potatoes, lays, oranges, salt, supportors, disabled kids, hills, ups, downs, bad moments, good moments, reminding myself my dad is watching me from upstairs as I suffer.
I kept thinking he would shout at me for not finishing, I couldn’t stop, I had to keep going. Spasms, slight cramps, the chest infection I started the race with all disappeared quickly. Then came Pinetown, I was only too happy to see Tamsyn, I was pleasantly surprised, once again she was confident in my ability. That was just the boost I needed. Once again, she says, you need to pick up your pace. My experienced comrades coach. She was the boss of me. “How you feeling? You look strong!” Wonderful words to hear. Off I go, “please be at the stadium babe, please rush now! Thanks, I love you.”
Pinetown, blistering hot, dirty but masses of people.
Westville, sweeper cars lurking like vultures, waiting to pick us up. Myself and Yazeed doing the maths frantically. Asking everyone how much time left to cut off?????!!!!
One official says you have until 16:40 to get to 45th cutting. We do the maths. We need an hour for the last 7km’s.
More run walks ahead of us as the hills approach us from nowhere.
We gain strength and fly through Westville into Sherwood. Get over the cut off and celebrate like we finished the race. Left turn onto the freeway, the looooooooooong home straight. Stadium lights in the distance are on,one last hill to climb. We make it and now it is adrenaline. We ran 84km to run down hill for 5km. This was not a down run at all. Someone lied to us. Ruqqiyah asking me for the 90th time, “are we gonna make it? You promised me!! I came too far not to make it Angelo, Don’t let me stop Angelo” All I did was smile and say, you are getting that medal.
Right, into Durban CBD, pure adrenaline, we plod away. It is here where I thought momentarily that I need to pick up speed. That was a selfish thought. We fought for 58km together, why break up now? What is 2km to sacrifice for a lifetime of glory with friends, Ruqqiyah holding my hand, Saleh “Bob” Martin holding her other hand and off we go. This was a Kenfac thing happening. Ahmed had race eyes, so he went ahead, I was happy for that boy. A true soldier.
We look to our left, stadium lights, 10 minutes to go, Saleh is quiet, silent warrior, Ruqqiyah had by now asked me “are we gonna make it?” For the 200th time. She becomes awefully chatty the longer she runs.
Saleh still quiet. He overcame so many battles in this race, I left him to absorb his emotions.
Past the Hilton we go, people everywhere cheering, Yumna Martin sure can shout, I fear for her kids one day.
Ruqqiyah is quiet, smiling, Saleh is smiling. We hit the grass track, Kingsmead we are here, Kenfac is here. Emotions run through my body, not as much tears as I thought, looking to find Tamsyn, to no avail.
We see the stadium clock 11:57, we celebrating, hand in hand for the last while, before we break our chain. Jumping, arms up, glory, glory and more glory. We were in 11:58:02 on prime time television. Job done, race done, no more questions to answer.
Hugging smiling, dirty bodies, did I care? No, not one bit. Angelo Adams ran the Comrades. Wasfie and Mo appear, are you guys mad to make us worry? I asked them where’s Tamsyn???
As soon as I found Tamsyn I was happy, she made me cry, “your dad is so proud of you”.
I ran all over KZN to find her, she was proud, I was happy, so much happened so fast. The euphoria of finishing this damn race can not be explained properly. I wish I had the vocabulary to explain it to you as you read this.
Thank you to everyone who supported me on the road, without your support and food I would not have completed this race.
I am glad I finished and got the medal and badge, I do feel bad for the friends that weren’t successful. One day is one day, everything happens for a reason is something that someone special told me. I’m glad I got to walk to our car with my medal that we got. I say we because Tamsyn also earned the medal.
I am still wearing this medal. It feels good to have achieved something like this.
Comrades 2016 I was ready for you.
Since the euphoria of completing Comrades in 2016 I have developed a love hate relationship with this event. I love how it brings people together and how you are forced to go through physical and psychological change. I hate how it consumes you. There is no easy way to do Comrades and the training required.
Struggling Sportsman 