Category: Racing

Comrades 2010 was a highlight for many and a disappointment for others. Whether you won a silver medal or finished a second before the 12-hour cut off, one thing bound all of us on the 89.2km long road to Durban… and that was the incredible and unique experience of finishing one of the most gruelling ultra races in the world. Six runners share their race day experiences with Modern Athlete.

Peter Van de Walle, ArcelorMittal AC
Race Time: 7:58:51

About three years ago, my wife and I decided to move temporarily from Belgium to South Africa. But only at the end of April 2008, we arrived in Vanderbijlpark on a two-year work contract. After a few months, I decided to join the ArcelorMittal AC and there it all started…

During the group runs, I heard all those stories about amazing marathons and ultra marathons. In all stories, there seemed to
be only ONE race that counted: the Comrades Marathon! I could not understand that a human being could be that crazy to run
89km. And there was no way that I was going to ever start in that race! My ambition was to run my second marathon before
I turned 40 (I ran one marathon in Belgium when I was 35).
But craziness turns out to be contagious. Before the end of
the year, my running partners convinced me to enter the
Two Oceans Marathon.

And on 30 May 2010, after completing ten marathons and five ultra marathons in South Africa, I lined up at the start of the Comrades. I must admit that it was with mixed feelings. On one hand, I was very motivated to tackle this ultimate human race, but on the other hand I was scared because of all the war stories I heard. “Don’t start too fast or you will pay at the end”; “Your legs will hurt, and probably you will get cramps, but never bail.”

When the gun went off I realized what an amazing experience this was going to be. I started slow, keeping in mind all the good advice. I was quite disappointed when after only 30km my legs started hurting. I could not imagine running another 60km with pain. But I went with the flow and after 60km I still didn’t walk a single metre. However, I made that up in the last 29km. I was really counting down the kilometres and on every uphill, I did a fair bit of walking. In the last 3km, I joined a small group and managed to keep on running. In just under eight hours, I crossed the finish line.

I thought my legs were hurting, but only on Monday and Tuesday, I felt what it means to run the Comrades.
Every step felt like a mile and the stairs were real torture. Only now after two weeks, I fully realize what the Comrades is all about. It is a race against yourself, exploring your limits, investing five months to get that medal. My respect is enormous for those who finished ten, 20 or more Comrades. It requires discipline to go through this process year after year. When finishing my Comrades, my decision was clear: this was my first and my last. However, next year it is an up run and you can only claim the Comrades when you have done an up and a down run. Is craziness really contagious!?

A warm ‘thank you’ to all ArcelorMittal athletes who supported me on the road in the past two years!
Visit our website and read more Comrades experiences from Werner Bremer, Claudia Cockcroft, Zelda Black and other amazing readers as they define themselves!

Comrades 2010 was a highlight for many and a disappointment for others. Whether you won a silver medal or finished a second before the 12-hour cut off, one thing bound all of us on the 89.2km long road to Durban… and that was the incredible and unique experience of finishing one of the most gruelling ultra races in the world. Six runners share their race day experiences with Modern Athlete.

MARISA OOSTHUIZEN, IRENE ROAD
RUNNING CLUB
Race Time: 10:35

Just to get to Comrades 2010 was a nightmare. Every year I promise myself that I am going to train differently. Little did I know that 2010 was a year where I was going to be forced to train differently.

In February I started training with Rinaldi Botes, a novice. At the Vaal Marathon I ran 4:13. I thought I had it all under control. A week before Om die Dam I had the same problem as in 2007, a stress fracture! After a lot of tears and prayers I went to the gym, armed with some swimming gear. I started with 30 minutes on the Orbitrek and 30 minutes in the pool. At lunch time I was back for another hour in
the pool.

My goal was to be fit enough to run Loskop 50km. I gradually built up to more hours in the pool. One thing about this training was that it made me mentally strong and built endurance.

I eventually finished Loskop in 5:30. I changed my swimming routine; I put running shoes on and ran in the pool! This helped so much that two weeks before Comrades I was on the road for four hours without any problems. My heart rate at rest was 38 beats per minute and I lost 6kg!

I started Comrades on a positive note. I tried to stay with friends, Pierre, Marisia Koch and Billy up to halfway. A big thank you to you guys. I felt good all the way and recited the following: “His name is Great. He will never leave me.” I got to the finish line in 10:35.

A big thank you to my
husband, Danie!

Comrades 2010 was a highlight for many and a disappointment for others. Whether you won a silver medal or finished a second before the 12-hour cut off, one thing bound all of us on the 89.2km long road to Durban… and that was the incredible and unique experience of finishing one of the most gruelling ultra races in the world. Six runners share their race day experiences with Modern Athlete.

Keith Reynolds, Irene ROAD Running Club
Race Time: 8:13

All preparations for 2010 went well; I clocked exactly 1 700km from January to Comrades and was running better times than
I had in the past ten years.

On the morning, I met up as planned with the ‘Silver Bus’ hopefuls. From the beginning I was on cruise control. I was amazed to see how easily we got up the hills. At one stage we were even running below 4:20min/km pace.

By the time we got to Drummond (close to schedule at 3:39), Dirk cautioned us to pull back on the climb out of Drummond. With 36km to go I had a personal time check – I was eight minutes ahead of where I was when I ran my best time in 1989.

At 65km I took a short walk (exactly 50 paces) to stretch out a bit and reward myself for having run further without stopping, compared to previous years.

Then all of a sudden, I felt I was going slower and slower.
I got incredibly dizzy and despite still running downhill the pace dropped to well over 6min/km. I walked and ran over the next 2km at over 7min/km. Tony (Benoni Northerns) came past and gave me an energy bar, but the damage had already been done as I had made the mistake of running only on supplements and not the normal food intake I would have had in previous years.

I battled my way through Pinetown knowing that the great Irene supporters were only a few kilometres away. I got to the tent and was fed a combination of sandwiches and whatever else was available. After a few minutes I felt less dizzy and proceeded on my way up Cowies Hill.

I had crossed over the timing mat at Cowies in 5:59:20 – still
in silver time but I realized it was just not going to happen.
The hardest part of the remaining 18km was trying to keep going, knowing that all the effort I had put into preparation, had still not paid off.

Wendy Fitzmaurice (Westville) passed me on Berea Road and made the comment we all know so well – it doesn’t matter who you are or what you plan before the race, the race will level all and make you humble.

All was not at a loss this year. Following the race while in Mooi River we came across a charity shop. For some strange reason, my wife Vanessa mentioned to the owner that we had just come up from the race. The woman got quite excited and led us to an elderly woman who was knitting squares. It turns out the elderly woman was none other than Elizabeth (Betty) Cavanagh – the first official female winner of Comrades in 1975! We had a
great chat and also discovered that Betty had ‘given’ her permanent number (462) to her daughter who completed her third run this year.

Now it’s time to sit down and work out what went wrong this year and fix it so I can pick up the pieces and plan again for a ‘better’ next year.

Comrades 2010 was a highlight for many and a disappointment for others. Whether you won a silver medal or finished a second before the 12-hour cut off, one thing bound all of us on the 89.2km long road to Durban… and that was the incredible and unique experience of finishing one of the most gruelling ultra races in the world. Six runners share their race day experiences with Modern Athlete.

Kari Longman, Celtic Harriers Athletic Club
Race Time: 9:45

This last week has passed in a bit of a dreamy whirlwind for me and I keep on having to remind myself that I am officially a Comrades finisher!  

I think my main inspiration for running Comrades is probably my wonderful dad. As a little girl, my dad was always quite a big man and not particularly sporty. One day in early 1980 something motivated him to go for an 11km run. I thought it was just the most incredible thing that someone could run
that far.

At some point near the end of 1982 my dad started running in earnest. A mere six months later he ran his first Comrades.
Vividly etched in my memory is me as a young girl of 12 at the finish of Comrades, walking around all on my own and then somehow making my way over the barriers and running through the finish line with my dad. He went on to do another five Comrades after which his knees were so messed up he had to stop running and took up cycling instead!

For many years after that it was a dream of mine to perhaps also run Comrades one day. I was always the most avid supporter, knew the names of all the gold medallists each year and just loved the fact that on a down run the runners would run past our house, take a pee against our very long hedge and even sometimes throw out their old running tops on the pavement. 

In fact, I once picked up a long-sleeved RAC t-shirt discarded outside our house and wore it as my winter PJ top for years afterwards. I did quite a bit of distance running when I was still at school. I liked the feeling, and I liked to make my dad happy.

Then I became an adult and gave up on the distance running thing for a very long time. In fact, I only got back into it again in 2005, after my daughter, Julia was born!  

Then suddenly there was something about the ‘5 000 novices’ cut-off that attracted me to Comrades 2010. So I entered less than an hour before the 5 000 tally was reached.

And so the long slog began. Working full-time and having three kids (one still just a baby), I had to rely on my little 5.5km and 6.4km runs during the week, with one or two longer runs on most weekends. My darling husband, Alistair, and occasionally our wonderful nanny, Jane, meant that I could get these longer runs in at least, because without them I would have probably been destined to have a terrible experience!

I found myself at the start of the Comrades at 4:45am on Sunday, 30 May. Beside me was Joe Tyrrell, a kind and wonderful man whom I met a few months ago and who so generously offered to be my “running shadow”. It was such a chills down the spine experience to hear the recording of Max Trimborn’s ‘cock crow’, Chariots of Fire and the anthem just before the race started. I felt incredibly emotional thinking about the
reality of finally finding myself as an official starter of this legendary race.

The race itself feels slightly blurry to me now, although interspersed with beautiful and treasured little memories.
These are some of the things I remember:
 
The strange feeling of running past PMB Girls’ High, where
I spent five years of my life.
  
The slightly mysterious, ‘disconnected’ feeling of running in the dark with thousands of anonymous bodies, waiting for the sun to rise.
 
Discovering Joe’s delightful penchant for striking up a remarkably meaningful conversation with any international runner we passed.
 
The unbelievably heady pong of Rainbow Chicken Farms (which left me thinking I’d be giving KFC a miss for perhaps the next decade).  
 
The profound joy and heart-rending experience of passing the beautiful, smiling, lovely children from Enthembeni School and holding their hands as I passed.
 
The feeling of great tiredness my legs already felt at 25km, with me wondering how it would be possible to still run another 64km.  
 
The fabulous feeling of passing the halfway point at Drummond and the deafening sound of beeps as hundreds of ‘chipped’ feet passed over the timing mats and supporters cheered like nobody’s business. 
 
The mixed emotions of passing the 33km to go point (since this officially marked the point from which every step further
I took was the furthest I’d ever run before).
 
The sadness and trepidation with which I parted with ‘my shadow’ at 60km. 
  
The strange feeling of not being able to work out what it was I wanted to eat (knowing it was nothing sweet and nothing savoury) and then realising all I wanted was an enormous glug of beer (which I never got!).
 The pleasure of letting my legs loose on Fields Hill.
  
The unexpected feeling of a second wind shortly after Cowies Hill and calculating that a sub-10 was perhaps within reach.  
 
The desperate need to walk stretches, despite my closeness to the finish.
  
My burst of energy and a final 200m sprint around the stadium, with ‘Islands in the Stream’ playing the whole way.
 
And then a sort of muted joy-cum-sadness after finishing in 9:45, with no-one with whom to celebrate for quite a while!

Did I have a good experience?
Oh, absolutely (as with child-birth, all the really difficult bits sort of fade away and are forgotten about!).
I don’t think I could have wished for a better first experience.

Will I be doing it again next year? I’m not too sure. I am daunted by the prospect of doing all that training again. But I think Al and I are cooking up a little dream of perhaps doing it together, which would be an extra kind of special.

Am I proud of myself? Yes! I discovered afterwards that between the first timing mat
(at 27km) and the finish, I passed 2 600 people. That works out to 42 people per kilometre, or one person every 25 metres, which feels like something I’m unlikely to ever do again and makes me very happy! 

But I am also so humbled by the far more remarkable, nearly legendary achievements of many other people.
I know and realise that the number of people one passes has very little to do with success!

Comrades has taught me many things: that if one works hard to prepare for something, it’s not nearly as bad as one might initially imagine; that I should be so thankful for being healthy and strong; that Alistair loves me and I am incredibly lucky to have him by my side; that there are not many things in life which are quite as much of a leveler as long-distance running is; that it really does help to remember that one just has to put one foot in front of the other and eventually one will
get there and finally… that Cream Soda is so much better than Coke (and doesn’t make one burp
nearly as much!).

Comrades 2010 was a highlight for many and a disappointment for others. Whether you won a silver medal or finished a second before the 12-hour cut off, one thing bound all of us on the 89.2km long road to Durban… and that was the incredible and unique experience of finishing one of the most gruelling ultra races in the world. Six runners share their race day experiences with Modern Athlete.

CATHIE VAN ROOYEN,
DISCOVERY ATHLETIC CLUB
Race Time: Did Not Finish

On Sunday I became another Comrades statistic, that of ‘bailer’. So now I have three Comrades varieties to my experience; too slow for the cut off time, medallist and now also bailer.
 
Let me rewind a little. The weekend was a strange one.
Crazy and calm. After arriving at the airport we spent a long time travelling to the expo where we were faced with long queues and lots of grimaces.

We settled in our bed and breakfast just as it turned rather cold and very windy. Feet up, we listened and hoped that the wind would not affect our run.
 
Finally after a long Saturday night of staring at the clock, Comrades 2010 arrived. We followed the even longer than usual line of red car lights weaving their way to Pietermaritzburg.

We all moved quickly into our seeding areas. We had the furthest to walk as I was in the very last group. The gun went off and the clock started. It took us over eight minutes to get to the start line. I silently thought that the front guys were already 2km away by that time.

The large field of runners meant a lot of crowds and I found myself really concentrating on people in front of and behind me. My friend, Marlene, ran comfortably and we got into our rhythm fairly easily.

After around two hours of running, I felt a pain in my hip.
I was surprised by this and tried a few remedies, which helped for a while.

We were running well and had good times over the first half of the race, but I wasn’t enjoying it much. This perturbed
me, as I knew that the second half would get worse. However we kept moving.

Eventually after my pain worsened, I firmly told Marlene that I would not ruin her chances of a medal. She tried everything to get me positive, but I was stuck. Eventually I told her to go ahead, and she listened without argument. She must have seen my look in my eyes!

I knew my head was looking for things to make me stop!
My hip was achingly sore, and it had shifted down to my
knee and shin. This meant that walking was painful and
I was compensating with my other leg.

I realised that I was having one of ‘those’ days that people spoke about. I was powerless to do anything. I almost ignored the outreached hands from smiling kids. This is what I was running for, but cute dogs, schoolboys cheering, none of that made any difference. I thought long and hard about the consequences of what I was contemplating.

Eventually my body said, ‘Enough!’ So around 27km to go, I sat down and waited for a bailer bus. Many people said, “You can still make it,” but I realised later that I chase joy, not medals, and in this race which I absolutely love, I was feeling NO joy.

I did not want to turn Comrades into a race I would hate, and get really injured chasing time with my slow pained walk. I am old enough to realise the medal doesn’t mean as much to me as my happiness, but I had to be sure I would have no regrets.

After a tortured half hour of chilly waiting, an empty bus came along to escort me to comfort and a ‘Did Not Finish.’

Back at the sunny stadium I waited for my sister who I had spotted on the road from the bus, and was pleased to see that she was running so well. I walked about and strangely my hip pain remarkably improved.

So now it’s back to the drawing board. I am going to regroup and get myself ready for 2011. Hopefully the crowd will be smaller, I will be better prepared, and this year will be my only ‘one of those days’!

Congrats to all the finishers, and to all the
non-finishers. I hope you have no regrets and know that you made the best decision that you could at the time.

Comrades 2010 was a highlight for many and a disappointment for others. Whether you won a silver medal or finished a second before the 12-hour cut off, one thing bound all of us on the 89.2km long road to Durban… and that was the incredible and unique experience of finishing one of the most gruelling ultra races in the world. Six runners share their race day experiences with Modern Athlete.

GREG BARNES, IRENE ROAD RUNNING CLUB
Race Time: 6:10

I had set myself a goal to finish as close to six hours as possible. The day did not get off to a good start. We left for Pietermaritzburg at 3:20 in the morning, only to find many Durban city streets closed. We eventually followed a bus full of Comrades runners and got on the highway at 4:30.

Luckily we could speed down the highway at a record pace, only to find a wall of cars at the toll gate. We crept in behind a truck and were thankfully through in two minutes. The highway was crawling at 100km/hour, so we decided to take the New England turnoff.

My friend, Neville and I decided to abandon our car with 3km to go, enduring lots of comments from fellow runners about how good we looked. A nice girl offered us a ride which we accepted. We progressed a bit only to come to a complete standstill again.

We jumped out again and sped towards the start. I got into the A block and off we went, adrenaline pumping through my veins! Everything was on track and I made my goal times at each point perfectly, right behind the two leading Russian ladies.

I went through Drummond in 2:59. I overtook the twins and it felt great! With the sound of the helicopter following the leading ladies as my guide, I tried to stay ahead of them. I was doing well up to Cowies Hill and at about 9km to go my wheels started coming off. Dehydration! My eyes became blurry and I could hardly see the road.
I started walking at 45th Cutting.
The spectators tried everything just to get me going again. Someone gave me two water sachets. If it wasn’t for him
I might not have recovered to finish.

From 45th Cutting to the finish line was one blur; it felt as if
I had a curtain over my eyes. I made a decision that the twins would not overtake me and that kept me going right to the end.

The encouragement from the Irene supporters was great and that gave me the extra strength to get to the finish. After two bottles of water my eyesight became normal again and
with a sigh of relief I drank my
chocolate milkshake.

  Comrades 2011 – Let the games begin!