87 brutal kilometres, an ever-climbing UP-RUN with an unforgiving clock! The Comrades Marathon has been entered into the Guinness World Record as the world biggest Ultra, making it arguably the worlds greatest race.

In every run there exists a new journey, riddled with internal and external factors that encourage the ‘throwing in of the towel’ or simply spurring one ‘ON’ to higher levels of commitment to the cause. These factors only peel off onion like character layers to reveal what lies beneath for us to stare at and analyze. The greater distance, hill steepness and undulation, the deeper the unpeeling and potential unravelling. South Africa’s mountainous region of eKwazulu makes for a perfect onion peeler when an 87kilometre course is set through it. I always watched the race’s 12 hour long TV coverage with no particular interest asides from the laughs of seeing ‘MAD’ people cripple themselves off their own FREE will! When watching I shook my head slowly and let out a soft whistle in dismay and pity at the fools. I never thought of taking ON the challenge till mid year 2010 when hunger for a challenge struck me, a deep hunger to tame and take control of the the body and mind. I didn't realize how much a footrace could reveal of a person till I started running Marathons and Ultras. These races have an inkling to humble, disappoint, encourage, educate and increase self determination. This entire season has truly stripped me bare and built-in resilience and a new love for life and people.

The Comrades Marathon’s legendary hill climbs combined with the inhumane distance is enough to make you tired just thinking of it. Midway you are welcomed by the Valley of a Thousand Hills lined by the locals side 2 side screeming your name which is printed on your race number and urging you ON! ‘The Valley of a Thousand Hills’ the name alone should serve as a deterrent for any would be novice whilst the hills of the Drakensberg lie in wait but not in your path, so affectionately described by Alan Paton said in Cry the Beloved Country: "There is a lovely road that runs from Ixopo into the hills. These hills are grass-covered and rolling, and they are lovely beyond any singing of it." Remember to be viewing mountain tops when coming from sea level, one has to climb!!

This past week Sunday (29th of May 2011) I ran and walked the 86th Annual Comrades Marathon as a novice through this merciless route, which Allan Paton probably never ran judging from his rosy words on the bouncing hills and their splendour! The guy was a poet, chances are he used a train and not ran UP to Maritzburg!

At the Tradition crammed Start Line, the 18 000 strong running field breaks into song after song with the Shosholoza, South African National Anthem being the last two renditions sang in unison. ‘Shosholoza’… what a fitting send off as they head off into the mountains winding further into the heart of the beautiful province like a train taking migrant workers back to the Gold Mines in Johannesburg. ‘Chariots of Fire’ is then aired over the ear popping PA system followed by Max Trimborn’s 1948 recorded reproduction of a ‘rooster crow’ and lastly the starting GUN (5:30am) sending the thousands off on a joy run to Maritzburg. The unfolding of these events is truly goose bump evoking to say the least, I had ‘chicken skin’!!

So the race had started and I was off with a goal and plan in action! The plan was to run a sub-9 hour race, re-fuel as much as possible along the route without risking the danger of over-hydration as there are too many refreshment spots along the route at 1 for every 1.5km. There also had to be a plan to overhaul my nutrient balance and take meds at around the 65kay mark where I’d asked my blessed cousins to await the Bra. The plan was to reach Drummond (halfway@44km) at 4hours flat and the second half was to be a tourist and take it easy for a comfortable finish.

The first half at 4hours 11minutes race time went according to plan with the exception of 2 pit stops to address a niggle on the right under foot (Inflamed Plantar Fascia) which eventually was resolved second time around and 8 minutes race time sacrificed. At the second attempt, the physio had begged me to add strapping, but trying something ‘new’ at the top of Botha’s hill could have absolutely killed my race so I declined the offer, instead took off my shoe and sock, rubbed some ointment and ice and soon got back to running comfortably.

I then ran into a stuggling runner at the 55th kilometre at the Harrison Flats, who had been suffering from a bout of severe cramps. With no hesitation I pulled out my Anti-Cramp Pills with some ointment which had been safety pinned onto me for just in case; and offered them to the runner who politely asked what they were and took them after my expert explanation :D. I was comfortable with this move as my people were waiting at the 65th kay mark at Camperdown with a treasure trove of supplies, ohhh plus the act of generosity also gave me a warm fuzzy feeling inside. The maths around the finish time never ends and with this I soon figured I was behind schedule by 15minutes at the Camperdown marker. This contributed to my neglecting to take the Cramp meds and catch a deep breath when meeting with the ladies at the 65th Kay; who I politely asked to simply wait for me at the end in time for the sub-9 cut-off.

Now I had been joined by the Comrade who I’d earlier assisted with his cramping. After a Gung-Ho odd 5 kays, we soon digressed into a run/walk strategy which was always on the cards for the second half but I had earlier wasted time and with 15 kilometres to go entering Polly Shortts, we had 1hour 30minutes to go before the sub-9hour cut off. This meant we had to cover the remaining ground at an average 10kilometers per hour after having climbed a rising and falling 800m altitude over 72kilometers, but were steadfast in our resolve to achieve the ultimate GOAL (sub-9)! We then started divising strategy around the Polly Shortts and the rest of the race. We would definitely be walking most of Polly’s (i.e. run 4 light posts and walk 3, run 3 and walk 2 & on & on... till we finish the hill) which meant we would be required to run quite fast emerging out of this last hill to the finish. Quite fast was soon revealed to be 12km/hour required pacing to finish line, at this point I looked to an elderly (68 Odd old)  gent next to us and asked him for his ‘race time’ looking to see if I didn’t have any other time unaccounted for on my watch. He confirmed this (same as mine) and added that with 43minutes and 8 kilometres left; quote ‘WE all will never make it for the Bill Rowan (Sub-9hour medal)' unquote, a voice inside of me cursed this old bugger for being sooo dismissive of all our abilities, I then politely told my running mate I was feeling strong and would go full out for the Bill Rowan. Ohh and a final comment to the old man telling him I’ll see him at the finish line.

Blasting off towards the finish line the math looked good at 1 kilometre to go with 5minutes and 30 seconds or so left when I was grounded right outside the stadium by a hectic bout of cramps. As I lay there with the 9hour gun blasting off and an odd 300 runners streaming past me! Having made my way up after 15minutes fighting wrestling with them muscles, I’d subdued them to a hobble and jog into the stadium, had to look strong for TV and finish line pictures. I eventually ran in at 9 hours 19 minutes for a Bronze Medal. I never stayed for the dramatics of the Traditional course closure at 12hours (Gun time) which is a very heart wrenching experience considering the runners have run an odd 87kilometers only to be told right at the end, ‘No can do bud, you are 5seconds late…. try next year for a medal or badge, thank you bye’ or something to that tune! Not quite the swashbuckling performance I’d hope, trained and was psched for but it will do for at least another 12 months, I’ll be back next year bby and for many years to come! One quote that’s always stayed alive in my mind during training is: A pinch of probability is worth a pound of perhaps. This race is Looooong, but the road to the start line is even longer, so one has to increase probability by getting as much done before the day!  Next to Join Manoni Running Club and get that Bill Rowan Medal in 2012!!!​

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Ran and Written by Ayanda