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.