Author: Modern Athlete

Modern Athlete receives many letters or pics from runners with a story with a bit of a difference, and we try to publish as many of them as we can, like this contribution from South African Expat Dr Paul Firth, who lives in Boston in the USA. We suspect he rather enjoyed the warm weather at the Comrades this year!

In January 1991, I was in the back of a pick-up truck, riding past a small hospital in south-western Uganda. As a Cape Town medical student hitch-hiking across Africa, I wanted to go in and look round the hospital, but I knew I would not really be able to offer the patients much, either to relieve their suffering or cure their ills.

A quarter century later, Mbarara Hospital is still there, and has been growing slowly but steadily. And I now live in Boston in the USA, where I work at the Massachusetts General Hospital (MGH), delivering anaesthesia for children in the Paediatric Haematology-Oncology Department. The MGH is not only helping children survive cancer in the US, but now is also helping to start a children’s cancer clinic in Uganda, thanks in part to the fundraising running of many of the doctors and staff at MGH.

Since 1998, the Mass General Marathon Team has raised over $10 million to support the paediatric haematology-oncology programme at MGH, as well as other projects. The funds raised are directed to cancer care and research initiatives that enhance the quality of life for the hospital’s youngest cancer patients. This is for a cause dear to my heart – helping children and their families overcome the burden of childhood cancer – because in my job as an anaesthesiologist, I am fortunate to work in the MGH Paediatric Cancer Clinic. I say fortunate, because I get to work alongside heroes – these children facing the massive challenge of beating cancer, and their families who suddenly face the reality of their child being diagnosed with a life-threatening disease.

It is a privilege to help these heroes rise to overcome the painful challenges of surgery, anaesthesia, chemotherapy and radiation for their child. And through running, I can help them still further, fighting kids’ cancer, one step at a time.

I ran my first marathon in Cape Town in 1992, and have now done more than 30 in total, including the Boston and London Marathons. I’ve also done the Comrades Marathon three times – twice when I still lived in South Africa, clocking 8:57:54 in the Down Run of 1993 and then a 9:37:31 in 1995, in another Down Run. I ran Comrades again this year, almost 25 years after my first, and I came home in 11:49:31 – much slower than in my younger days! Of course, it may also have been down to the difficulty of training through the Boston winter, which makes doing the peak training from January to March rather difficult, as you can see from a few of my photos!

I run to help raise funds both to support families with a child going through the marathon of cancer care – and to ensure that for other children and parents in another part of the world, a diagnosis of cancer does not mean a diagnosis of slow death. It’s a long and arduous process to train for and run a marathon, especially through a freezing winter, but it’s my friends and family who keep me motivated to keep doing this, and I want to thank everybody who made donations to support the children and their families battling cancer.

Eight years ago at the South African Youth and Junior Championships in Germiston, Antonio Alkana failed to progress to the semi-finals in his specialist 110m hurdles race. Naturally, he was bitterly disappointed… but fast forward to 2017 and he is now the African and SA Record Holder, a 2016 Rio Olympic Games semi-finalist, and recently got engaged. And he’s all smiles these days. – BY REGGIE HUFKIE

At the 11th African Games (formerly known as All-Africa Games) in Brazzaville in Congo in 2015, Antonio Alkana, or Tony as he is known to close friends, introduced himself to world hurdling when he snatched the gold medal in a personal best time of 13.32 seconds, winning his first major title, with a new Games record for good measure. Later that same year, he competed at the IAAF World Championships in Beijing, only just missing out on a spot in the semi-finals, but it was a clear indication that he was on the right track.

Then in May 2016, at the Diamond League Meeting in Rabat, Morocco, he clocked a 13.28, taking 0.04 seconds off his best, and only just missing Lehann Fourie’s African and SA Record by 0.04 seconds. A month later, at the 20th CAA African Championships in Durban, Antonio was once again in the spotlight as he flew over the hurdles to win the title in a new championship record of 13.43, and that led to one of his lifelong dreams coming true, being included in the 2016 Rio Olympic Games team.

In Rio, he went on to make it to the semi-final round, but his 13.55 on the day was only good enough for seventh position in his heat, thus bringing his Olympic journey to an early end, but having picked up invaluable experience of racing at the highest level. “I went into the Olympic Games with a time that could have put me into the final, but in competition it just didn’t work,” he says. “I didn’t perform as well as I would have liked, but I have been a bit inconsistent, so the main goal is to be more consistent, and that experience will help me going forward. But most important is that I really enjoyed the experience of going up against the best in the world in Rio, and look forward to doing it again.”

Attitude of Success
Antonio (27) attributes his success to the work he has done with coach Marcel Otto at the Bellville Athletics Club in Cape Town. “My coach and I worked hard to get where I am now. We worked on speed for a few years, and then focused on technique, but there is still room for improvement,” says Antonio, adding that he is confident that the great athlete-coach relationship he and Marcel have is still going to bring them both great success. “Training is a lot of hard work, but I have the hunger to improve every year, even if it’s just 0.01 seconds. It’s still an improvement, and I trust my coach and his guidance to get me there.”

That confidence took a small knock in April this year at the SA Championships, when Tiaan Smit snatched the national title from Tony in Potchefstroom, but Tiaan was subsequently found to have used a banned substance and was banned for four years. Meanwhile, Antonio bounced back from that disappointment more determined than ever to do well, and that saw him finally surpass Lehann’s African and SA Record at the European Classic Permit Meeting in Prague, Czech Republic in May, replacing the old mark of 13.24 with his massively improved 13.11. “To be honest, it didn’t come as a surprise at all. I could feel it in the warm-up, and I had been running times like that in training, so I just had to perform on the day. My coach had told me I was going to be the one to break the record, and in training you could see I was a lot stronger than last year, so we knew it would come this year.”

After that it was time for the IAAF World Championships in August, and Antonio went to London boosted in confidence by his new record. He once again made it to the semi-final round, but fell short by 0.36 seconds, clocking 13.59 when he needed a 13.23 to progress to the final. Nevertheless, it was still one of his best major championship performances, and he says just makes him want to chase further success on the track. “My long-term goal is to work towards podium finishes and medals at the Commonwealth Games, World Championships and Olympics. That would be amazing, and it won’t come easy, but with hard work, belief and trust, I think it can happen.”

More to Come…
Antonio’s sporting journey started in humble beginnings at Silversands Primary School and Malibu High School in Blue Downs, a suburb on the Cape Flats. His breakthrough came at the South African High School Championships in Rustenburg when he was in Matric – he finished fourth in that race, but says it boosted his confidence massively and laid the groundwork for greater things in his career. Another important factor in his success is the ongoing support of his parents Edward and Gail, who attend most of his races when finances allow, but otherwise sit nervously glued to their TV set when he is racing.

“I grew up in Brentwood Park in Blue Downs, and I’m still living there with my parents. Our community was quite small and almost everyone knows each other, so I had a good, fun and peaceful upbringing,” says Tony. He recently became engaged to long-time girlfriend Bronwin Houston, with whom he has a son, Logan, and he says he couldn’t do what he does without her love and support. “She supports my passion for the sport, and that means a lot, because I enjoy what I’m doing.”

All in all, Antonio has come a long way from that disappointed youngster in Germiston who had been eliminated in the preliminary heats at nationals, but instead of giving up, he opted to work harder, and that recently paid off with a new sponsorship from Nike. But there is no time for resting on laurels, he says. “I can always look back at my races, see what I did wrong, and work on how to perfect it, then get better. I just want to make it into the final of a major competition and whatever happens, happens, because it is so unpredictable in a final, and anything can happen in a technical race like the 110m hurdles.”

Adapting to a new medical condition this year has not stopped me from pursuing my passion for running. – BY JACKIE HENRICK

Running wasn’t always my passion, but eight years ago I put together a bucket list, and running the Old Mutual Two Oceans Half Marathon was right at the top. I had never run before, but after much training, I completed my first Two Oceans… eight seconds after the cut-off. Since then, I have come to love running, especially long distances, and in 2017, I decided the Peninsula Marathon would be a good way to start the year. I had an amazing run, and then to speed up recovery, I went for a sports massage. While working on my right calf, the physiotherapist remarked that she could feel some lumps under the skin and proceeded to try to massage them out.

I found the whole experience painful – more so than usual – so she recommended that I take an anti-inflammatory when I got home and not to run until the weekend. Later, she phoned to check on me and I mentioned I had a strange tightness behind my knee. Despite this, I still ran 16km that weekend, but by Sunday, the tightness had become worse and my leg was swollen. More anti-inflammatories later, neither the swelling nor the pain subsided, and it was time to see a doctor. After describing my symptoms, my GP wanted me to immediately book myself in for a Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT) test. I was mortified. How can a fit person like me suddenly get DVT?

As I only have a hospital plan, and because I almost died when I heard how much a private hospital would charge, my first stop was Groote Schuur. I arrived for the ultrasound, but after sitting around for three hours, I was told that there was no-one available to operate the machine. To make matters worse, I wasn’t able to get an appointment at any of the other government hospitals, as there was either no one on duty qualified to perform the test, or the machines were broken!

Diagnosis Confirmed
A friend in the medical profession suggested I rather contact Dr Anderson, the vascular surgeon at Gatesville Clinic, who fitted me in, and confirmed I had DVT. Dr Anderson was even able to tell me more or less the age of the DVT and when it had flared up: It was all traced back to the sports massage. Often, enlarged veins are mistaken for lumps and when massaged, they can erupt.

My first question to him was, “Can I still run?” Thankfully, he said yes, but I would have to be careful. The constant hitting of the road could cause the blood to pool, which would make the leg heavy and feel “very full,” and if this happened, I would need to walk until the leg felt normal again.

I left the clinic in a daze. Here I was, fit and healthy, being told I would have to take medication every day for six months – and the Warfarin I was prescribed is not a nice pill to swallow. It is actually often referred to by doctors as Rattex, because it was initially used as rat poison! I was put on a strict diet: No leafy green vegetables and absolutely no vitamins K and C. Also, no anti-inflammatories, and I was prescribed special painkillers in case I needed them. I also had to cut my nails in case I scratched myself and started bleeding, and I was told that any bump would cause horrendous bruising. On the other hand, one thing that has definitely helped was getting a good pair of compression socks. I’m not talking about the kind you can just buy anywhere. The pair I got from the Orca/Orbea Concept Store is serious business. You need to be measured for them, and although they are pricey, they are the comfiest socks I’ve ever worn.

Getting on With Things
Since diagnosis, life has been a little different. I have lost some of my running speed, and I have started swimming to ease the leg while staying fit. I now have to wear an ICE bracelet in case anything happens to me, my life is governed by my cellphone alarm clock to remind me to take my ‘Rattex,’ and every two weeks I go for blood tests.

Despite all this, I still ran this year’s Two Oceans Half Marathon and was only 15 minutes off my personal best. The biggest concern was that I could have fallen – not a good idea when your blood is so thin – and I found that I was about 50 shades of purple from all the elbowing and pushing during the race! One lady even managed to cut my arm with her iPhone that was secured to her arm in a cover. Lethal things, those!

This is a journey I wouldn’t wish on anyone, and there are very few support groups for the condition within Cape Town, but with the help of Facebook, I have connected with people who are going through the same experience. I’m happy to say that my vascular surgeon is impressed that I have managed to carry on running, and that’s thanks to knowing my body and keeping myself safe.

Fallon Finlayson is a 31-year-old graphic designer now based in Somerset West in the Cape, who lives by two motivational sayings: My only fear is not trying, and if your goals don’t scare you, they’re not big enough… which is why she went from the couch to the IRONMAN 70.3, and intends going still further…

Triathlon and fitness is an absolute passion of mine, but it has not always been this way. Growing up in Zimbabwe, my absolute worst nightmare was having to attend sports days at school. I literally hated it. The only thing I enjoyed was swimming, and I didn’t understand why I couldn’t just swim? This running thing was not for me, in any way! During compulsory cross country, I would sit under a tree and only do one lap of the two-lap route, and catch up with everyone on their second lap. I was also quite an unhealthy eater and loved all the junk food. All in all, I was quite an unfit, unhealthy and overweight teenager – and I just accepted it and carried on with my life.

Finishing school and moving to South Africa to study, I lived the typical student life. Lectures, parties, late night garage pies, student burger specials, and a bit of studying. A healthy life was the last thing on my mind! However, once I started working in Johannesburg – some would say grew up – I decided it was time to get healthier, and so I did the normal thing and joined a gym. I attended classes about five times a week, but the real turning point was the day my sister phoned me and invited me to swim the Midmar Mile with her company team. Having been such a keen swimmer a few years earlier, I agreed immediately.

I got into the pool that evening to start training… and battled to swim even two lengths of a 25-metre pool! I was out of breath and my chest was on fire. “How am I battling to swim?” I asked myself, but the answer to that question was obvious, after not swimming for about five years and not worrying about a healthy life. But I was committed to swimming Midmar, and after a few weeks of training, I was comfortable in the water again. Slow, but comfortable, and it felt good.

The Running Bug Bites
I completed Midmar and absolutely loved it. I also lost about 5kg during all the training, and after the event, I remember thinking, “Now what?” I loved the transformation, getting fitter, completing an event and the bonus of the weight-loss, so I decided to try running, as I knew I would definitely lose more weight. Let’s just say that my first attempt at running is a day I will never forget. I could barely jog 200 metres, I was so out of breath, and I’m sure my heart rate was well over 200! I felt nauseous and wanted to throw up, but I persisted as I jogged and walked around the block. It was mentally and physically very challenging for me, but again, I decided not to give up.

Another day I’ll never forget is when I jogged around that same block without stopping, a huge achievement in its own right. That is where my passion for running began, leading to 5km races, then to 10km and from there to my first half marathon. I had absolutely fallen in love with running. By this time, I was also a healthier eater and had lost another 8kg. I felt totally energised with life.

Then came the devastating day. After a few weeks of hip pain followed by a few physio’s, an incredible chiropractor, a podiatrist, gait analysis, and a sports doctor, I was told I had a badly misaligned pelvis, which would take anything between eight months and a year to realign and get my piriformis muscle to settle down. The news of no running for eight months or more came down like a ton of bricks. I was crushed.

I carried on attending my aerobic classes with my favourite instructor and kept all movements low-impact, but I was not getting the satisfaction that running gave me. That’s when I decided to buy a road bike and I entered the 94.7 Cycle Challenge. I was craving some sort of physical endurance challenge, so training began, and six months later I completed the race. Another thing I never thought I’d ever be… a cyclist.

Getting Going Again
By that time, eight months of no running had passed and I was given the go-head to attempt a jog. Happily, it was pain-free, but I was still told by the specialists that it was highly unlikely I’d ever be able to run long distances again… and I almost accepted that. But I didn’t, and after six months of running again, I had a bit of a light bulb moment: “Hey, I can do a triathlon now!” Some quick research showed that the next big triathlon event was four months away, the 11Global in Sun City, so I immediately entered… and then thought, “Eek!”

I basically had no triathlete friends in Johannesburg, and I had no idea what was in store for me. No idea! But I did some research on the Internet about training for beginner triathletes and then I ‘just winged it.’ Typically, I went on to do the 11Global with a few pulled tendons on the top of my foot from the increase in training. Even so, I had an incredible time, and as I finished, I remember thinking, “I loved that, so I’m definitely going to do another one.”

I have never looked back. Being a triathlete makes me feel so alive. Pushing my body, testing my limits and what I am really capable of doing, achieving what a few years ago I would have called absolutely impossible… and soon I was entering my first Ironman 70.3 in East London, in January 2016. I was so excited! I trained very hard and I was loving the journey, and by this time my high school friend was also into triathlons and we planned to do the event together.

Reason to Tri Harder
Then, came the heart-breaking news just two months before the race that my father had died from a massive heart attack. As a very close family, this really took its toll, but I decided I was not going to give up on 70.3, and instead I decided to race the event in honour of my Dad. But then came another devastating blow, just two and a half weeks before the race when I was involved in a bike accident, cracked my elbow pretty badly, and was ruled out of Ironman. I was absolutely heartbroken, as this was now more than just a race for me.

Six weeks of recovery and no training followed, but then I was back in the water with only two weeks to cram in some training before my second go at the 8 Mile Challenge at the Midmar Mile swim. Most people told me, I’d never be able to complete all 8 miles with my elbow joint still recovering, but I like a challenge, so I went and completed all eight miles for the second year in a row.

A year later, a few triathlons, a marathon, several sea swims and cycle races later, I still had the desire to do the Ironman 70.3 in my Dad’s honour, so this year, along with three special people in my life, I completed Ironman 70.3 Durban. Thanks to hard training in spite of three injuries in the year, and the support from these guys and my close friends and family, it was an absolutely magical race. I had a good swim, overcame three punctures on the bike, and then posted a pretty decent run, but finishing for my Dad, with tears in my eyes, was an absolute priceless moment. We won’t talk about the toenail loss and insane blisters, because it was all worth it!

Inspirational Message
I want this story to motivate other athletes, because if you want to do something, it is never too late. Don’t wish you had tried, or wonder what it would have been like. If you want to achieve something, go and do it. Even if others doubt you. Do it for you, not for anyone else. Put in the hard work and you won’t regret it, because nothing that is worth it comes without effort and hard work.

As for me, I already have the next year’s worth of goals lined up:
•  Sanlam Cape Town Marathon, September 2017 (2nd consecutive year)
•  Cape Ultra Triathlon, September 2017 (70.3 distance – 2nd consecutive year)
•  11 Global Triathlon, October 2017 (going back to where it all began)
•  Old Mutual Soweto Marathon, November 2017
•  12km in 12hours endurance swim, November 2017
•  Sandman Triathlon, December 2017 (Another 70.3 event)
•  Midmar 8 Mile swim, February 2018 (4th year competing)
•  Robben Island Crossing, date to be confirmed
•  Comrades Marathon, June 2018

As I always say, set a goal that is so meaningful that it creates a drive inside you to become better and stronger. Then go after it. And believe me, you can do it – I am proof of that. If it’s your dream, go and do it. It will be an incredible journey and something you will never regret!

We runners sometimes think that our running fitness will see us through any physical challenge, but sometimes we learn the hard way that skill and experience on top of fitness are an even better idea… as I found out during the recent Nedbank Tour de Tuli mountain biking event. – BY KIM STEPHENS

In 2012, one of the clients on my books was an outdoor apparel brand that happened to be the sponsor of the African Otter Trail Run, and thus I was offered an entry to the ‘Grail of Trail.’ The Otter is South Africa’s premier marathon distance trail race, and it is relentlessly tough. I hadn’t even run a marathon on road, but I found myself enthusiastically accepting the entry, and promptly purchased a clunky pair of trail shoes and badly-fitted hydration pack.

I ran a few long trails, none of which were appropriate to Otter training, and completed my first road marathon, on a flat as a pancake course. Then I lined up for a giant reality check. I completed the Otter well within cut-off, but was totally out of my depth the entire way. I fell, I cried a little, and even briefly considered flinging myself into the ocean… but it changed me. I realised I was, as that tubby yellow bear likes to say, braver than I believed.

IRRESISTIBLE INVITATION
A few months ago my client, Coleman, offered me the opportunity to join its team for the 2017 Nedbank Tour de Tuli in late July. I’d worked as crew on the event in 2013, and knew this isn’t just a mountain biking tour through three different countries, it is also the main fundraising event for Tour de Wilderness, an environmental and life skills programme for rural children living in and around conservation areas. Since that first Otter, I’m annoyingly prone to “seize the moment” choices, and I felt that my endurance base would see me through the 250km of riding. It is a tour, after all, not a race – but it is very much a tour on a bike, and I am very much a runner…

Anyway, I purchased a beautiful little second-hand bike, but it became a crime statistic after just four rides, and I was not in a position to replace it. My training was therefore limited to a couple of spins on a gym bike and plenty of mountain running. And that is how I found myself in the Ciovita showroom in Cape Town, agreeing to become the proud new owner of things like cycling bibs (the very thing I had mocked on my husband numerous times). Upon recommendation, I added a large tube of chamois cream to my kit. At the very least, I was not going into this battle at risk of damaging my nether regions.

Before I knew it I was in a car with my team mates, heading to the South Africa-Botswana border, where my beautiful new Cannondale Scalpel loan bike was waiting for me. A truck took my duffle bag, and I casually requested assistance in attaching the pedals borrowed from my son to this unfamiliar piece of equipment. The 3km ride to the first camp, on an airfield in Botswana, was fairly uneventful, and I patted my new best friend as I hung her on the bike rack and told her that we’d do just fine, but when I met the leaders and sweeps allocated to our team, I’m pretty sure they rolled their eyes as I said, “I’m strong… my running endurance will get me through.”

RUDE AWAKENING
The first day was a 65km ride from the Limpopo Valley Airfield to the Amphitheatre Bushcamp. I applied that chamois cream with wild abandon, and put on a cycling bib with slightly less enthusiasm. I added a pair of borrowed cleats. I looked the part! After a picture-perfect sunrise and great coffee, we were off, each team leaving with 10-minute intervals, and we were team 19, last to leave. The first 15km felt like a shedding of life and work stress. Phones were off, noise was limited to birdlife and the whirrrrr of tubeless tyres on dusty tracks, and we found a rhythm as I bonded with my bike. This sense of freedom was short lived, however. Soon I realised I was probably going to die, face-down in a dry river bed, with a bike attached to my body.

That soft sand made my tyres take on their own personalities, like teenagers with middle fingers in the air! What had I got myself into? My brain was saying “No!” very loudly while I ate sand, and I was using every profanity I’d ever learned. Then we hit rocks, and I swear my pedals smashed into every single one! I wobbled and fell, smashing my right knee on the handlebars. I got off and walked as I swallowed tears. I got told to harden up by sweep Matt, and I wallowed in self-pity. I was holding my team back and felt like a giant fraud. Basically, I was deeply afraid. I quite like my teeth where they are; likewise my kneecaps, and 40km in, after I had shocked my wonderful team mates with a complete 180-degree personality shift, I finally climbed into a Landrover at one of the checkpoints. Gutted, I was just not up for it, and I needed to stop. It was that, or call the lions to eat me. And lions don’t come when called; I did try.

HAVING ANOTHER GO
After plenty of sundowners that went on long past sunset, I crashed into my tent with my kit vaguely prepared for the next day. The exceptional Amphitheatre Bushcamp would be home for two nights, with open air showers, a feast of food and the sound of wildlife all around. It would have been heaven, had I not been panicking about the second day’s riding.

With legs and arms already covered in cuts and bruises, we set off into the sunrise with a river crossing to warm up the legs. After crossing the Motloutse, we moved into open plains on well-used ellie tracks, and we saw elephants each day, including one unnerving experience during day two where we had to backtrack swiftly and warn the other teams! The total distance for the day was just under 60km, and I did it. We were slow, but I was gaining in confidence. The lions came during our second night in the Amphiteatre Bushcamp, their low grunts filtering through to our cozy tents at about 2am, but I told them I wanted to live and would give day three a go, so they moved on.

The route description for day three promised us around 70km of fun, but the race briefing outlined a course closer to 80km. I started with big eyes and a determination to master some of the technical elements that lay ahead. I had such a great team, full of humour and passion. We had two Russians that thought it was the Olympics – still great guys – but the rest were fairly chilled about pace. I’m not sure what the Bush Telegraph had put out, but on day three Jeremy, an equestrian vet from Zimbabwe, appointed himself my personal mentor. “Stay on my butt, watch my wheel, follow my lead.” He led me to the mid pack of our team, and things got real. I was actually riding a bike, at a fair pace, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying.

GETTING THE HANG OF IT
The first section to the tea stop was 95% single track with a lot of mopane trees. Ever been slapped by a mopane branch? They were never-ending, and I prayed for game sightings and a stop to take photographs. My upper lip took a slap, and swelled impressively. But I also wobbled through sand, and even managed to stay on the bike for some of it. Sweeps Matt and Greg smiled at me, and shook their heads. “Like a Lotus flower opening,” said Greg, generously.

But at the tea stop I was overwhelmed by exhaustion; the kind that I normally feel at the end of a race like Comrades. I nervously told Saffy, our team leader, that I needed to stop. He organised another Landrover and in I piled for a very long round trip across the Zimbabwean border into the delightful Maramani Community Camp on the banks of the Limpopo River. I was so tired that I slept through some rough 4x4ing, bouncing around on the back seat, oblivious to my surrounds. I arrived at camp at the same time as my team, and ran in with them, with deep joy as I used my trail shoes for their intended purpose! That night we drank beer on the river bank, beside a sign that said “Beware of crocodiles,” and ate like royalty before another solid tent sleep.

FINAL STRETCH
We woke with mixed feelings: Glad that the end was in sight, sad that our time together was nearing an end. What an adventure. We had all disconnected with reality for a few days… no signal, no work, no admin or deadlines. The final 60km lay ahead, and we were all pretty tired. Rachel, the only other woman on our team and a resident of France on her first trip to Africa, was administering Essential Oils to herself and the rest of us, as we were all battered and bruised and covered in mopane welts. Dieter, our oldest team member (but with the youngest heart and most impressive one-liners) asked a medic how long it would take to die… and with that we piled our weary bodies back on the bikes for one last push.

We’d been promised a sighting of 200 million year old fossils on Sentinel Ranch, among other highlights, and a border crossing back home across the sandy Limpopo River. We all made it, and I owe much of that to a combination of Jeremy the vet and Matt the Macadamia nut farmer who simply would not let me quit. Handing the loan bike back was an emotional moment, and I realised then that mountain biking will become a permanent part of my adventures, as it’s a great way to improve my mountain running, and to see the world. That’s why I’ve purchased that loan bike and had it shipped down to Cape Town. As far as life choices go, this was a good one. But next time, I’ll train.

From the first time I met Troy Murray and Werner Nel, they were inseparable. I remember when they arrived in front of me after doing their initial 1km time trial with Coach Jonathan, looking ready to dominate the Modern Athlete #9to5Challenge. Both had many questions about what they were about to get themselves into, but I got the impression that these two were going to be committed, and boy did they prove me right. – BY JEANNIE JORDAAN, MODERN ATHLETE 9TO5 COACH

It all started when the two business partners as well as close friends, attended a conference at the Wanderers Club and saw the #9to5Challenge poster. Troy had lost most of his fitness and also wanted to get Werner on the challenge, because he is a rather large unit and hadn’t really done anything resembling a fitness programme for years. “At that stage I was unfit and overweight, and Troy and I kept talking about doing something to change it,” recalls Werner.

The plan was simply to start. Once that had happened – arguably the biggest hurdle of all – they simply had to follow the programme with the intention of being able to run 5km by the end of nine weeks. As Troy says, “My view is that everyone should be able to run 5km, and I was embarrassed that I could not. What if I actually needed to?”

For Werner, the ease of hitting the snooze button was a daily routine, but by joining the programme and committing to running twice a week with the group, he learnt that running is a great stress-reliever. “Or maybe I’m just too tired to stress about anything after a good run,” he laughs. Troy had a similar problem: “It’s easy to find an excuse not to do something, but when you’ve got other people you’re committed to, you find a way of getting up at 5am. I just didn’t have the self-discipline to do it on my own. Running has given me a nice base fitness level that allows me to comfortably cross over and enjoy other pursuits too, whether they be cycling, hiking or swimming. Also, you can take it anywhere.”

Upward Trajectory
These two are so full of life and had us all in stitches during most training sessions, but they have also proven a lot to me and themselves on this journey, even though they both say they nearly died the first time they ran the Westcliffe stairs. Troy laughs at the memory of utter pain and suffering when reaching the top of the stairs that first time, and then being told they still had another four loops to go. “I love those stairs now. And I also believe the early morning sessions when you are still suffering from the party the night before, are the best cure for hangovers!”

But more than that Troy elaborates on what else the two gained over the past months of training. “I actually learnt how to run and now know a bit about the science of running. I didn’t realise beforehand that just running round and round the block for 5km is just not a good way to get to run 5km. I’m more aware of my body and have a keen sense of distance now. And I even understand what “heart rate” means. I’m less tired overall and even recently encountered the feeling that I ‘need’ to run if I’ve missed more than two to three days… a sort of panic kicks in.”

Similarly, Werner puffs out his rather larger chest – albeit a little smaller than eight weeks previously, as he lost 8kg over that time – and admits that he is very proud of the more than two minutes he cut off his initial 1km time trial. “I really enjoyed that feeling of achievement!” he says.

No Stopping Them Now
Having both received prizes for “Best Overall Achievement” and “Most Improved Runner” on the programme, Troy and Werner admit that they have only just started on their fitness quest. Werner recalls that “My first goal was just to finish the nine weeks, but now keeping fit is my goal. After putting in the hard yards to get here, I don’t want to go back to the start. Also, to do a parkrun in under 30 minutes would be nice.”

Troy’s direction is a little bit more of a team effort. “My wife has just joined the programme, following recovery from a long-standing injury, so I’ll only know when she tells me at the end of the programme. I’m guessing we will bump up to the 10km programme,” he laughs. “It’s very uplifting when you see the progress you’ve actually made at the end of the programme. It seems like running has now become a lifestyle habit, which is pretty cool.”

If you also want to go from zero to hero in just nine weeks, like Troy and Werner, then sign up today for the Modern Athlete 9to5 Challenge. Go to www.modernathlete.co.za/page/9-to-5-challenge or e-mail [email protected] for more info.

Running develops character. The tough, painful parts of it make us stronger runners, and stronger people, in general. So I find it strange that athletics, and running in particular, are such sidelined sports in the current school system.

Individual achievements seem to be frowned upon by the powers that be and a conformist mindset is all the rage at the moment. What little freedom kids used to have for expressing themselves through sheer grit and determination has been taken away from them.

Team pursuits like soccer, rugby and cricket are the top sporting codes in our country, and “taking one for the team” seems to be the golden mantra. Individuality is not just frowned upon, but also coached out of the kids. Talk is only about a shared vision and a common goal. What candy floss nonsense is this? As Rocky said, “Life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows.”

No, friends, we need to teach kids that life is hard, and often unyielding. They need to step forward, take the blows and roll with the punches if they want to achieve something. Nobody should think that life is going to be easy, because quite frankly, it isn’t.

We do our kids a disservice by not letting them pursue individual goals. Kids need to learn that they are strong enough to do amazing things on their own. They are tough enough to take all that is thrown their way and come out swinging in the next round. And running teaches you to dig deep. To keep moving forward when you don’t want to, and to finish what you start, no matter how long it takes. First or last place doesn’t matter, being brave and going the distance does.

Let your kids fall. Let them fail. Be there to cheer them back to their feet. Be there to motivate them to try again. You will raise a better human. You will build a legacy of hope and faith within them that they can carry forward into adulthood. Let them find themselves through lungs gasping for air and muscles burning from the strain. Let them find the joy of living. Leave a legacy by letting them run.

About the Author: PJ is a former Cape Flats gangster who took up running when he turned his back on that dangerous lifestyle, in order to set a better example for his two young sons, instead of becoming just another crime statistic.