The spirit of Giving vs running

Its been a while since I last wrote a piece... Well here goes....

So I'm back on the road, but no its more for fun rather than building up for a race... Its more for maintaining, more for conversation, more for enjoying God's wide creation called nature, its more for setting the tone for the day. There are many things I've experienced through running, but one thing that has come to my attention is the spirit of "giving" shared among our runners. 

So a few days ago I was with a group of ladies that I've chosen to run with for now. A wonderful group of ladies, the type of people you would think are just there to fill up the numbers, the type you would easily want to ignore, the type you might want to write off and think are just there to play around, the type that are keeping healthy through running, the type who you only appreciate by spending time close to them and realizing what they are made of. These ladies have great personalities and even bigger hearts. 

So while I was going about my business of pretending to run, I overheard them talking about someone they needed to assist, and while they went on and on about how they should go about offering this assistance, an idea to offer the "someone" some running gear, or even casual wear if  the "someone" didn't mind, came up, while they deliberated on that, while running of course, then an idea to buy that "someone" new sneakers came about, and while I was still trying to continue minding my own business, someone volunteered to go to the shops to check out the price of new sneakers at a sale that was currently going on. 

All in all I was caught up in some ball of thoughts that contained amazement at how this group of ladies had literally just grabbed the bull by its horns and taken it upon themselves to just want to assist a fellow human being. A human being they probably hardly even know, the only thing they needed to know was that this human being was probably "in need"..... I found myself committing to this very worthy cause while still in amazement at how within an hour of running, a greeting towards a fellow "human being" turned into a great idea and soon to be turned into a great gesture of trying to help another "human being". True enough to their word, a few days later, feedback was given to those who were present on the day on how much the sneakers would cost, and how many people are contributing to the cause. Someone volunteered to go and buy, and whatever happens next, I trust they will complete the transaction. The point I am still stuck on is that, this hobby we call running, isn't all about chasing air. We share the road with human beings who will call you if 2 days pass without having seen you on the road, the type of people who will call to check whether you are ok because they notice your absence on the road. The type of people who feel your pain when you happen to share yourself with them. 

I suppose this is the kind of spirit people will share when they're led by such a giving leader... Let me end this here before I start going on and on about this very inspirational leader... That is a blog post for another day..... 

They say Blessed be the hand that giveth...... You may not have great use for the 50 rands in your pocket, but one thing u must know is that, that 50 rands could made a huge difference to someone else's life if you just choose to contribute to that worthy cause. May God bless those ladies, sometimes we learn lessons from others without them even realizing how much their actions humble us. Sometimes we go about our business of running, forgetting that the next person isn't as affording as we are. We are NOT rich, but the next person would love just that pair of tights so they can run, while we want to add on that 5th pair. #TheGoldenFootClub #Running #Giving

I am blessed to share my mornings with such great beings. 

My mother, my queen, another birthday, a reminder that I am blessed

My mother, my queen, moons and moons ago in a faaaaaaaaar away land somewhere in a village called Tuaran, Sabah, Malaysia, on this day a beautiful soul was born. My mother, my queen, my stronghold, my reminder that indeed, i am blessed. Yet again i'm sure some of you will be for the first time learning that my mother, is Malaysian, that is the nature of social networks these days, you think you know someone and then you find out that you actually do not know them. Anyway, moving along, my mother today turns a year older, i miss her, i wish i was where she is right now, in Lesotho, or if she were here where i am, so we could just celebrate and thank God for another year, another blessing and pray to God for more years. By God's grace she is still here today, a strong woman she is, a woman who left her far far far away land and fell in love with none other but my father, who is Tanzanian by the way for the benefit of those who find themselves not knowing my history. 

A mother of 3 beautiful girls, and a grandmother of 2 and soon to be 3 and hopefully by God's grace more. I think right now the most befitting gift for her is the grandchild which by God's grace should arrive in not more than 5 days from today. I know she cannot wait for that and i am very happy on her behalf. A beautiful woman she is, a strong woman she is, a very quiet woman she is. Sometimes i wonder if she is really my mother, coz this apple surely fell too far away from that tree, well except for the beauty of course. My mother is a woman of very few words, a very principled woman, a woman who laid the foundation for what and who i am today. As i go through life i am constantly reminded of the teachings i got from her, sadly one only gets reminded of these as they experience other people going about their lives. 

Besides being a mother and grandmother she is a wife of a very stubborn but loving African man, my father, we will get into that another day. Yes they met during their PHD years in Wisconsin some mooooons ago. A teacher by profession, referred to as Prof M.M.Keregero by her students. To me she simply MAMA. I am thankful to God for the blessing of her in my life, for the teachings she continues to impart on me, for the example she continues to be in my life, for the strong woman that she is. If she was here, rest assured we would have headed to that Chinese restaurant this evening, and had that cake, and blew out those candles and wined and dined and smiled and shared moments of laughter and lots and lots of pictures. But she is not here, she is far away, she is alone, my dad is out of the country too. But i am comforted by God's grace, the knowledge that wherever she is, she is healthy, she is happy and although i miss her, i am blessed to have her and comforted by knowing that when i do get to see her, we surely will celebrate another milestone in her life. Love you mama. This was supposed to be longer but because emotions are threatening to get the better of me, i'll end here. Happy birthday mama, i love you. May God continue to bless us with your presence. 

Diaries of being a mummy to a hyperactive toddler

So i've a 22 months old son, a very active one by the way, i cannot keep up with him, sometimes i wonder how my helper is able to do that. Yesterday when i got home my helper narrated to me in tears what had befallen her during the day. 

She says she had to step out of the house and attend to something very briefly outside the house, left my boy in the sitting room, locked all bedroom doors, meaning he only had access to the sitting room, locked the front door, meaning he could not go outside. She returned a few minutes later to find the house in silence the the son absent. She said she called out his name numerous times but there was no response, she said she opened the cupboards and the normal places he would normally go into but to no avail. She said she even unlocked the bedroom doors just to check that maybe he could have gone into the bedrooms, perhaps in my thinking, through the keyhole (lol) but he was not there. She said she even went as far as going to look around and at the back of the house, although she couldn't quite comprehend how he could have gotten out of the house because she had closed the door, but still she searched. She says at this point, she was in tears because she could not understand what had happened and where my son was. She said she was in the process of going outside the gate and maybe searching by the road although again she couldn't quite understand how he would have gotten there, she even thought of screaming out for help. Lo & Behold, apparently some few minutes later, which felt like a lifetime to her by the way, a sound was heard from behind the sofa................My son, my 22months old boy, was hiding behind the sofa, clearly playing hide and seek that he normally plays with my niece...............I think my nanny deserves a raise.... The emotional turmoil she must have gone through those few minutes i cannot imagine. It may sound funny now, to me that is, but she does not find it funny. 

My name is Nyakwesi Keregero Motsa, i am a mother to a 22months old son. I suppose this is an insight to what they call the TERRIBLE TWOs. May God help us all. 

The Comrades Marathon 2015- My Journey

2 days later, the pains are still fresh, the memories are still soo vivid, the fatigue is so evident, the sun burn marks still very clear, the tummy runs still ongoing, the sugars one consumed during race are still in the system.

What a memorable race, what a tough race, what an experience. Maybe because it is still so fresh in my head, I've never experienced so much pain during a run, I've never experienced myself having to put so much effort to complete a run, I have never so badly wanted to bail out or at the very least be swept off the road just so the pain would stop. The race was everything I had imagined and more. I had imagined it would be a tough race, a tough 87.72kms, everything I imagined an UPrun would be, it indeed was. That first 30kms climb was simply gruesome, as I ran up the hill, I kept thinking, I feel as tired as though I have already reached 70kms yet i am still to reach halfway, how the hell will I even manage to run the 2nd half of the race. For the first time since I first took part in the Comrades Marathon in 2012, I left my hotel room not wearing anything warm, yes that is how hot the day turned out to be. By 9 a.m the sun was out and the heat showed us what it was made of. At about 21kms water point, suddenly there was no water. See if you want to see a runner cry instantly, deprive them of water. It was torture, the only thing available at the water tables was energade and coke, God knows that when you are that thirsty, those things don't interest a runner, all you want is water. The next 2 water points also had no water, I began thinking to myself, how is one to even finish this race if there'll be no water at the tables. We started begging for water from the people standing next to the road, the people who had come to just watch or support their buddies. We picked up paper cups from the ground and requested some good samaritans on the side of the road to pour us their water. We got lucky coz we were helped about 2 times. Luckily after 30kms mark, there was plenty of water. 

Close to us was the 12 hour bus, it was just in front of us, in our heads we told ourselves we are still safe since the 12 hour bus is still within reach. At that point I was even doubting I'll get to halfway because the cutoff times had been changed so many times so I wasn't sure whether the halfway cutoff was 6hrs, though I was very sure that in the race rules it was reduced to 6hrs, instead of the 6hrs 10minutes that was initially the case. I told my buddy that if the cutoff is 6 hours we won't make it, yet at the same time thinking in my head that the bus behind us surely knows the cutoffs and it wouldn't be behind us if the cutoff was 6 hours. 6hours 5 minutes we passed the halfway mark with some 10 minutes to spare if I remember correctly. In my mind I was hoping to be cut off, that was the pain would end, for as long as I was on the road, I knew I would have to keep pushing, yet if I was swept off the road, the pain would end. Well we made the halfway mark, the halfway mark always comes with that relief that at least now you're beginning to countdown to the end. At least after halfway, you're closer to the finish than you are to the start of the race. Of course the cutoffs after halfway were not known to me, I knew there were others coming but I had no idea at what time and at what point. I kept moving, one step at a time, the rescue buses, the ambulances, the helicopters, were all passing next to us or hovering above us, some runners collapsing next to the road, meanwhile I thought to myself, why why why do I even do this in the first place. Anyway, we kept moving, the hills were tough, the calves were finished, the thighs were feeling every bit of the road. I have never cramped so much during a run, actually I never cramp, at this race I started cramping at around 10kms, luckily my running mate had crampease, which I kept spraying in my mouth for relief. I have never used so much crampease in my life like I did on Sunday. I had even sent a message to my husband, telling him how tough it is and how doubtful I am that I'll reach the finish with the way I'm feeling. That supportive man kept encouraging me to just aim for the finish. I tried. We kept cursing with my mate, cursing all the way, I remember swearing that I wd never do the Uprun again, even right now I'm not so sure about doing an uprun again. It is a whole different race to the downrun. 

On the way we kept passing people who had lost hope, some had wrong cutoff times in the head, and because we didn't know any better we thought maybe they were right, maybe we will miss the next cutoff, yet we didn't. We made the 3rd cutoff within 4 minutes I think, the 4th cutoff within 2 minutes if I remember correctly. I can't quite even remember at what point these cutoffs were located. All I remember thinking was me doubting if the bus behind us will make it because at this point it was quite far behind us and the way we were barely making the cutoffs I began doubting they would cross clear them safely. Knowing the bus was far behind us had given us that comfort that we are still within reasonable time yet when I calculated in my head, I was not convinced we were within reasonable time, hence began wondering if that bus driver knew what he was doing. This was the same bus I joined in 2012 on my first comrades after the 60kms mark after I picked up an injury and couldn't continue solo. It carried me to the finish so in my head I did have some faith in that driver. Unfortunately he failed to pull the bus through this time. I do not even want to imagine how those runners in that bus felt, given that you normally would put all your faith in the driver because you assume he knows what he is doing. 

We didn't give up, after 65kms or more, all we were waiting for was the famous polly shorts and the unidentified hill everyone spoke of. Then we heard there is little polly's before the polly shorts, anyway we struggled through those hills and made it. Little did we know that the vicious Polly shorts was actually at 79km mark, it is the hill that takes you to the last cutoff at 80kms if I'm not mistaken. We thought we were done with hills, lo & behold, the monster was before our eyes. The marker said 1km to go to the last cutoff point and I think we had about 10 minutes or less to do that 1km hill. The biggest struggle ever. In my head, the 12 hour cutoff at the finish was not within reach, that I had already worked out from halfway. But as these other challenges kept coming our way, honestly, getting into the rescue bus just sounded like such a fun idea. The heat had taken its toll on us, at this point we had consumed so many pain killers to relieve the pain in the muscles, all we wanted was for this to be over. We kept telling each other, we will fight to the end, whatever happens we are finishing what we started. We somehow made it through the famous polly shorts, within 2 minutes of cutoff, the cutoff here was at 11hours 10 minutes. Meaning we had 50 minutes left to finish about 8kms, which was a nonstarter. Actually any expert will tell you that it is impossible to pull that off unless your legs are fresh, & even without experts, i was NOT willing to even try to push to make it within 12hrs, my aim at this point was to just enjoy what is left of the race & reflect on whatever sanity i still had left in me. 

Suddenly my mate had strength in her, I was finished, I even wanted to bail out, she kept saying no, the end is near, we will rest all we want once we are done, lets just keep putting one leg after the other, I even begged her to leave but ya she refused. The Comrades Marathon in a way resembles the journey through life, one day you are strong, the next your are weak and you need someone else to pull you up, someone else to be strong for you. At some point during the race i was strong and she was weak, some other point she was strong and i was weak, at this point towards the end, she was strong and quite motivated, i wanted to cry, i wanted to stop running, i wanted to sit down, i wanted it to all stop. I just wanted to see my husband & my 21 months old son who were at the finish. Pushed we did, I even started laughing that we started running in the dark and now finishing the run in the dark, the cold was starting to set in, for the first time on this day I was feeling cold. We kept moving, the countdown continued and lo & behold, we reached the stadium. The pride I carried within me was/is inexplicable. The way I felt at 30kms and now seeing myself almost at the end was just an emotional journey. I couldn't believe it as I entered the stadium. We smiled, smiled genuinely, smiled with pride, we made it to the finish within 12hours 7minutes. 7minutes over the cutoff time. That is classified as a DNF in the comrades results, but the great thing about any race is that, it stays with you forever, like any precious memory, it stays in your heart. 87.72kms we ran, using these precious legs God blessed us with. This marked the end of hard work that was put into training for the last 5 months despite all the challenges faced. Challenges that one may never document, challenges that come with life, challenges that may hinder you from doing your training the way you want to do it. 

The support from my family, my husband, my parents, my sisters is simply special. My parents i'm sure to this day still wonder where i get such craziness from but they support me all the same. My husband, what can i say about him, you see it is very easy to not appreciate the partner you live with until you hear of the horror stories other females endure where their partners do not ALLOW, or FORBID them to go to either gym or running in the mornings. This is a reality, only then does one truly truly value the support they receive from their own partners. This man never stands in my way when it comes to my running, he assumes that i use a certain level of reasoning when i go for my training, he assumes that i measure the pros and cons of family time in relation to my running, he assumes i will find a way of balancing it out. He allows me to use resources to attend races, sometimes even helps finance my running. Sometimes he is the very person that wakes me up to go running, or when he sees that i haven't woken up for some few days in a row, he literally asks me, "why aren't you running", for that i am thankful, i may not say it everyday but i am truly thankful. To my friends, who put up with my crazy crazy hobby, thank you for wishing me well, your motivation, encouraging words are always great. Chances are I will do this again. To my running mates, those I had the privilege of sharing the road with, thank you, you all had a hand in this "my journey", not all of us have the goal of getting to the comrades one day, that does not mean that your goals are less important. Goals are personal, you set your own goals and work towards them, but if you do wish to take part in this race one day, don't even think it is impossible. It is very possible. Another person in particular i would like to thank, Nkosingiphile Kunene, ya we spent more hours together in training this year than any other year, thank you for your great company, for the sisterhood for the companionship, for everything, you are a very special human being, thank you for being you and well done on completing your 2nd Comrades. 

This morning as I dressed up for work, limped to the bathroom to take a bath, struggled through dressing up, feeling the clothes so loose on my body, I smiled while I looked at myself in the mirror and winked and said to myself, "you did it". As I go through the fb comments, posts, inboxes, whatsapp messages, I smile and I'm thankful, I have a great support system, I am a strong human being for having gone through this journey. After the race I fell sick, ended up in a clinic in a town I don't even know that well. The doctor was so nice, after she heard that I was from the comrades, all she could talk about was the race and the running, yap to hell with what was wrong with me. She asked my husband, "were u also running?", my husband responded "I am still sane", lol. The doctor said she is so inspired and would consider taking her running more seriously so she can do the comrades one day too.  This was the first time I fell sick after the race, of course I knew what caused the sickness, its the painkillers one consumed during the run, its a stupid solution but at that time when you are in pain, it sounds like a brilliant solution, a brilliant short term solution. 

I am thankful for the journey I endured in the last 5 months in a buildup to this race, learnt great lessons, formed special bonds. I am grateful for this race, taught me what I am made of, taught me not to give up, taught me that I can do anything I set my mind to. I am a stronger person because of this race. Thousands left Durban on Sunday morning, not all of them made it to Pietermaritzburg and of those that made it to Pietermaritzburg not all of them got medals, not all of them made it within the 12 hours cutoff. A medal is special, a medal is solid evidence of hard work put in, it is like a pat in the back for hard work, I did not get a medal but I finished my race, with pride, with great memories with a winner's attitude. I came, I saw, I took part, I shall definitely return. To those tho made it within cutoff, you did extremely well, congratulations on the hard work. For those who were watching from home or following fb posts and who got inspired, I am touched, if this can inspire just one person to take up running, then my work is done. Running doesn't mean you should join the comrades tomorrow or next year or the year after. If it can get you out of bed the next day and help you attempt even 5kms, then it is all worth it. To the naysayers, well, you make me strong each and every day, your negativity drives me to work harder, your negativity makes me smile because it makes me believe that i have something that you don't have and while you were/are being negative, i was training and running 87.72kms. The road belongs to all of us, we can all make a difference in our health and lifestyle if we did just 1 km in a day. For me this is an even more exciting time, I get to rest now that the race is over, I get to eat anyhow I get to just relax and slow down from the intense training until the next season comes along. I love this time of the year, the Post Comrades part of the year. 

I thank God for carrying us through this race, I thank God for great health, I thank God for these legs and I pray for many many more years of running, and I thank God for the many great people I have met during this journey. 

To my friend Lungile, you are very special to me.... Words cannot describe what we've been through together. You are simply an amazing and very strong woman. Never ever let anyone make you think otherwise. The strength you possess within you will break barriers you never thought possible. Thank you for being you & congratulations on completing your 2nd Comrades Marathon, you are made of steel. Don't ever underestimate the strength you possess within you.