Run Now, Pay Later

So the Hansa Hout Bay Trail Run is a thing of the past, but the pain remains.

Let me go back a step or more. I've had this run on the calendar since last year and when earlier this year, my brother invited me to join his relay team, the answer was a huge Yes.  Even to the point of getting a special gym programme together to help with agility and core strength.  But the last six weeks fell apart with a couple of niggles and injuries and the most I was able to run was 6km in the week preceding the race.

Not a lot of ideal prep. In fact, I didn't dare tell my brother about the last niggle.

But I arrived with a plan.

I had two sachets of USN's Anabolic Nitro (sorry for Simon - our middle runner) which I had used before and had felt bullet proof, a couple of anti-inflammatories and "muscle memory". I hoped it would hold me together for about 11km of severe trail running around the back of Hout Bay. 

It was perfect weather. Ian departed on leg one in the faint light of the pre-dawn and I went home to have scrambled egg on toast.  Collecting all my gear, I headed off the changeover point at Suikerbossie.  As I got there, the front guys came through absolutely flying and I heard later they were on a mission to break the record. They did - by miles. They were runnng twice as fast as me!

The Suikerbossie restaurant did itself proud handing out tea and coffee and scones to the runners and I resisted the temptation. Not so much Simon, who after a scone and coffee headed off to the toilet and of course, Ian arrived at that moment. Eventually Simon emerged, took a leisurely photo and jogged off. Ian was over the moon having run strongly the whole way. The thing about running in this environment is that it leaves you on a complete high. Ian missioned around talking to people, eating scones and generally beaming. I also think the USN had something to do with it!

Then we headed home again to collect warm clothes for him and wandered off to my checkpoint at the top of Constantia Kloof.  There I faced the huge dilemma of what combination clothing to wear. It was sunny but chilly. It was on with the short sleeve top then off again, on with the long sleeve top then indecision. In between, I was trying to decided when to drink my jungle juice. I ended up having it too soon so by the time Simon arrived, I was buzzing and ready to go.

A quick handover of the race passport and I headed off beginning my leg with a long climb with lots of steps and then lots more steps. I felt great, partly because of the low altitude but more I think due to my race juice. I ran way above my fitness levels. I climbed the stairs and stones with ease, ran the tricky bouldery downhills, ran the contours, stopped for a photo, chatted to the girl with me, hurt badly on the descent down to Chapman's Peak Drive as it was too slippery to attack the path.  It was here that I knew beyond a shadow of doubt, that I would not be able to get out of bed the next day.

After the last checkpoint, there was a gaggle of girls running together and we hurtled down the tar section to the beach. The tide was in and the sand was soft and wet. There was also a headwind.  My heart rate read 104%. I kid you not.  I saw later my max was 180 (the highest I have ever seen was 186 and that was about 10 years ago!)

But we pushed to the end and stumbled into the finish exhausted but elated.

It was a fantastic experience and I am so envious of the Cape Townians who have this playground out their back door.  I am seriously hobbling at the moment and stairs, downhills, downslopes and sitting down amongst other movements are extremely painful. But I don't care. I ran, I felt the wind in my face, I could see forever and I exerted myself in a beautiful place.

Thanks Ian and Simon, you were great team mates. Till next year!

See and download the full gallery on posterous

Posted via email from Go Cycling

Moving up a gear

The week that was included four spinning classes, a run and a mountain bike ride. Phew, talk about getting back into the groove.

I am heading to Cape Town this week to run in the Hout Bay Trail Challenge with my brother, Ian and fellow Ride2Rhodes rider, Steve. They are both stalwarts in the game (or sport?) of Ultimate. You know, that frisbee throwing thing that has its own World Championships. Thus my frantic week of trying to open up the lungs and fool myself into some fitness.

I am really looking forward to it despite being laid off with niggles for the last month. Stumble or run, here I come.

Posted via email from Go Cycling

There's a hole in my mojo, dear Sepp.

Now what.

The joy and the happiness of the past month has no focus anymore.

The World Cup has come to an end (with a bit of a whimper with a grumpy final) and we all woke up this morning missing something. The volunteers and members of the various organising groups will feel it most of all. Billboards are already coming down and the cars are not festooned with flags or mirror covers and the winter suddenly seems drab again.

And, it was a rest day on the Tour de France. Must be why I got through some work today and am finally managing to type this.

I guess the feeling now is akin to a proud medical team who witnessed the gestation and birth of a very large baby and now we can stand back as the baby leaves these shores, secure in the knowledge of a job well done. And we did all play a part. We may not have personally organised a single aspect of the Cup but we supported, cheered, laughed, groaned and forgot our woes for four glorious weeks.

Coincidentally, the last riders in the Freedom Challenge have also finished, all with war stories and memories to last a lifetime. I'm going to be creating new memories in my cycling life come September and I look forward to sharing these with you as they unfold.

But for now - Viva Mzansi!

Posted via email from Go Cycling

Crazy Times

Its been an awesome couple of weeks, actually make that a month. Work has been reduced to a trickle as has most forms of exercise. Its been much, much better watching others excel.

It seems so long ago that we gathered in our bright yellow Bafana Bafana colours to watch the kick off the 2010 World Cup. And the fever hasn't stopped. Now I am usually unenthusiatic about soccer as my time as a sports administrator gave me an intense dislike of the powers in that sport. The problem is, when you are passionate about sport, you get sucked in and despite prejudice, you begin to offer opinions, ride the emotional rollercoaster and follow teams with intensity.

I watched all the Bafana Bafana warm up games and despite all the prophets of doom, even I could see the improvement and dreamed that they might do the miraculous.  They didn't but they punched well above their fighting weight. I loved the fact that South Africans were still proud of the team and are prepared to support them once again. We attended the match versus Uruguay and froze in the stands. We went to the new Nelson Mandela Bay stadium (Port Elizabeth) to watch Chile vs Switzerland and watched fans celebrate with vigour and we enjoyed the smooth organisation.  At least I will be able to say "I was there!"

But the pride doesn't stop there. What hosts we have been. As a nation, we have produced a superb event with its own character and memories and the final script is  still be to written with the last couple of games.

Then of course, it is the annual riding of the Freedom Challenge (Race across South Africa - 2300km) - the event that I did last year.  I hadn't really got all that interested as my head was elsewhere but I had a friend riding it as a novice and I suspected he could win. Alex Harris is an andventurer in the true sense of the word and I re-lived the race vicariously albeit ta a much faster speed than my attempt.  And even now, the final riders are still trickling in. 

So when I wasn't watching football, I was locked onto twitter of following themountain bike race on the forum.  2011 entries are open if you're interested. I know some of riding buddies from last year are toying with the idea. Me - I have another idea gestating (such a word?) and I hope to persuade them to buy in too. This will also force me to get back on the bike with a lot more vigour.

As the football rush subsided and more non-game days made their appearance, it coincided with the start of the Tour de France. So I don 't expect to have a post World Cup hangover - there's plenty to keep me occupied and away from work.

See and download the full gallery on posterous

Posted via email from Go Cycling

Aileen's Story

Here is Aileen's story of her Comrades. It's always best in her own words.

The Dramas....

Oh boy and were there dramas......

I wrote a dozen lists of what to pack in what bag for what day - you know my normal anally retentive behaviour. I had slept really badly in that last week and was quite grumpy. We left at 4am on Friday morning and I slept all the way to Harrismith - thank you Doug. We had breakfast at Heikies restaurant and Kayla had a run around and jump on the trampolines. I then drove us to Pietermaritzburg. I found a parking and gathered my bits and pieces to go a register at Comrades House. I realised as we were down the road a bit that I had forgotten my shoe with my timing chip in the car. I ran back to get it, locked the door and checked that it was locked. I registered and bought myself a Comrades coffee mug and we ambled back to the car. We did not notice anything was amiss.

Doug was going to drive and I was in the back with Kayla strapping her in. He asked why I had broken the GPS window attachment to which I grumpily replied I hadn't done anything of the sort. I asked him had he opened the cubbyhole and he said no. I flew over that seat and saw my suitcase and bag were missing - we had been ROBBED. Oh God what a horrible feeling. I ran up and down the street completely panicking - my running kit was stolen - all my stuff so carefully planned, packed, broken in - everything. I cried and shouted and wept and absolutely despaired. Fiona cried when I told her, my Mom cried, my Dad swore. Anyway the police came, they took a statement and were very efficient.

We set off again on the road. I asked Doug - what now? Do I give up or do I run? Is this a series of warnings or is this a case of running despite all the things against me? There is no clear answer in the moment - it is only clear in hindsight. So I chose to run despite everything. We rushed off to a Sportsmans Warehouse and I replaced most of the running kit. I got a few other things for us to wear on the weekend.

I did a little run / walk on Saturday morning with some stretches. My bursitis was playing up a little and my glutes quite tight.
I slept so badly on Saturday night. I had 2 nightmares and my bursitis was so sore. I was so scared of the next day. I was scared of the pain and I was scared I would quit.

I said to Doug in the morning I was in pain and afraid. He said just go out and do the best you can -that is all. Enjoy whatever I do on the road for whatever length of time I am on the road.
We went to the start and Doug gave me huge hug and we went our separate ways.

I am a Comrades Winner!

Well I did it - 11h51min. I achieved my big fat hairy audacious goal and it was worth it. I am proud of myself.
I slept badly on Saturday night and had sent my alarm for 3am instead of 4am - doofus! I was a quiet bundle of nerves and very concerned about my very sore bursitis. I was just going to go out there and simply do the best I could for whatever length of time I was able to be on the road. Doug's encouragement was consistent and sure. We parked near the start. There was a chemist open! Clever business people - it was quite festive in the chemist - never thought I would say that. Doug gave me a huge hug and I went into my pen. I found a place to sit down and simply absorbed the energy and space and excitement. I saw God in the moon surrounded by clouds.

I spotted Christine and stood with her. The cockeral crowed and then the gun went off. It took me about 7 minutes to cross the start line. I was being very careful of all the debris in the road. A woman fell and was in pain - some runners picked her up - not sure if she continued. Then I took a fall at about 2 kms. Put my foot in one the disposable shirts that were all over the road. Someone picked me up quickly from behind and someone else passed back my dropped bottle. It all happened so fast that I wasn't sure it happened - except of course for the blood down my leg and stiff bruised knees. I had some energade to calm down and just carried on running.

The 1st kilometre marking is 88kms to go. Then 87km to go. The kilometres just passed on by. I was glad to leave Maritzburg and get on the "proper" road. It was a day spent quite alone. Seems weird to say whilst surrounded by 19000 runners and thousands of spectators but I stayed very close to me and really just lived a little fuller. I took in the rising sun and pink clouds on the horizon, the mist on the fields, the noise of running shoes hitting the tarmac, the pungent smell of the chicken farms.

I was starving at about 20kms into the race and there was no food at the tables! I was salivating thinking of Doug holding my cheese, mayonnaise and banana sandwiches and was looking forward to seeing him (and not just coz he was holding the grub!) at Camperdown. I started seeing food at about 28kms - thank goodness. The bananas and salt were absolutely DIVINE! I saw Dave Hodgekiss at Camperdown (25kms in)and gave him a big hug. I managed to borrow a phone when I didn't see Doug at our arranged place. He said he couldn't get to me. No worries, this was to be expected - see you at Inchanga. Up the hills, down the hills, off with the warm clothes, drink the coke, eat the grub, up the hills, down the hills.... and the kilometres just ticked on by. I would look at my pace chart periodically but the sweat was making it harder and harder to read. All on track. I got hectic cramping in my feet at about 30kms. So everytime I walked I would wiggle my toes and try kick my feet out differently to stretch the ligaments and what nots.

Harrison Flats (35kms) was quite tedious and by the time I got to the bottom of Inchanga I hit a bit of a low. I was feeling quite desperate to see Doug. I borrowed a phone and he described where he was - near some orange flags. I got there and no Doug. I called again. Now I was desperate. But I couldn't loiter I had to keep moving forward. I said to myself I must not rely on seeing Doug and I need to keep focussed. I was crying a little. Then I got to another Inchanga. I found him by the orange flags! Whatever that 1st place was it was not Inchanga. He gave me a huge hug and I cheered up immediately. I ate sandwiches and painkillers and carried on - so much more fortified and not just on food and drugs. I ran/walked up the hills. And the kilometres just sped past under my feet. I felt so alive and very fortunate. I listened to music for chunks of time but switched it off when there were lots of people so that I could hear them and interact. Sometimes the talk around me was so negative - I felt quite sorry for those people and wonder if they finished. I got to 45kms - halfway at 5h40 (11:10). I passed the actual halfway mat about 8 minutes later at 11:18. Shoo some of those uphills were very UP. I did not find any of them very daunting - just run from one tree to another. Up, up, up.... I heard my friends voices a lot. Fiona - run upright, run strong, run light. She simply never doubted I could finish and I felt that from her everytime I thought of her. Bev - she said that if I get into a dark difficult place I must just think of her coz she will be screaming her support. Well I tell you I called on her a lot. My sister - her love is a constant in my life and I knew it was particularly strong on this day. My brother in law - his advice and sense of humour popped into my head frequently. Mari and Wim - their excitement and support for me. Mari and her angels. My own angels. There were times when I called on them saying I need some help. I would then physically engage my core to keep upright and they would lift me a little and make the weight on my body a little less. Beautiful and powerful stuff.

It was great to get to the petrol station in Hillcrest that I had run from at Easter. Yay - familiar roads but the kilometres were further than I thought. My feet were cramping so badly at one point that I had to hold onto these 2 spectators - they were so sweet and supportive (physically and verbally!). He kept on offering me food and his wife would chastise him - "oh no the poor girl can't eat a pork sausage!". Off I trundled again down down down Botha's hill. My music was particularly inspiring at that point. My version of Wind beneath my Wings came on and I thought it was fabulous! Frank Sinatra's "I did it my way" - felt particularly apt.
Field's Hill was hectic. I heard Bruce's voice saying shorten your strides and it will help - I did and it did!

I knew Doug was the other side of Pinetown going up Cowies Hill. And I was running towards him. Well perhaps the word "running" is a little exaggerated! His hug this time was too painful to stretch my back that way but the rest of him was perfect. He ran/walked with me up Cowies. Next time I was to see him was at the finish. I met up with an RAC runner - he was funny and a complete chatterbox - in fact I think he used up the man's quota of 3000 words from down Cowies to the other side of Westville! He also had a brain tumour that was due to be operated on in a month. You know we just never know what life is going to give us. I send him strength.

Ok, so Westville seemed to go on a very long time. My energy levels were dropping, my quads were finished, my feet were cramping, my glutes were going into spasm - jurre bliksem! I found my self BEHIND the 12 hour bus - oh bugger! One of the other rules of Comrades - besides no new clothes or shoes - is don't get behind the 12 hour bus! I ran with the back marker of the bus - an old man who was on his 10th Comrades. He was fabulous and so encouraging.

I cried down to 45th cutting - the down hills were doing me in at that point. I hobbled on the uphills and shuffled on the flats. 5kms to go, 4kms to go. They weren't quite flying past me now but the numbers were definitely getting smaller. However the cutoff was looming. I kept on waiting for my 2nd wind - but that kept eluding me. And so I shuffled on. The back marker left me - oh bugger again! West street was jolly long. Then it was left onto Walnut - I could sense home. But I was still worried about getting there on time. It was taking me 12 minutes a kilometre! There was this huge bus in front of me and what if there were too many people at the finish line.....

Then I saw the lights and the entrance to the stadium. I was there and there was time. As I went under some tunnel I started to cry and sob and laugh. The field section was long and beautiful and amazing. I didn't feel the agony in my body any more. I beeped over the finish mat, pressed the time on my watch and cried a little more. I was my own hero on that day. I had surpassed boundaries I didn't know I had, I had reached deep into my own power and strength and was not found wanting. Everything I needed was within me.

Thank you all for your love and wishes and belief in me.

Posted via email from Go Cycling

A Story of Courage

I write this with tears in my eyes. Tears of pride and joy.

My dear friend Aileen has just crossed the finish line of the the Comrades marathon - a run of 90km between Pietermaritzburg and Durban. But for Aileen, it wasn't that simple.  Since she entered the race last year, it has been a momentous struggle to get to the start line.

Its been months of fighting niggles and muscle tweaks and the constant nerves of a big goal.  She dealt with both injury and fear with eveness and acceptance. And when the final large hip injury struck just weeks before the event, she fought back despite the naysayers. With a week to go, she managed to get on top of the injury but life hadn't finished yet.

She and Doug had travelled to Pietermaritzburg for the race and when they stopped to collect her race number, their car was broken into.  Everything was taken.
All the carefully packed running kit, the worn in shoes, the running belt with all the pre-packed kit she would need - everything. It was a devastating blow.

But she fought back again, bought brand new stuff ignoring the old adage of nothing new on race day. Having come so far and through so much, she refused to allow these petty thieves to take the dream away.

She finished.

I am so proud to have run just some of the way with Aileen over the last couple of months.

Posted via email from Go Cycling

Blood thickeners wanted

I love autumn the best of all the seasons. The yellow light as the weaker sun shines through the fading leaves of the Syringa tree, the subtle colours of the grasslands  sprinkled with candy coloured cosmos and the freshness of the cold mornings.

But I wish my body would adjust quicker. I went for a run this morning. Came back, had hot tea, then a hot shower, breakfast and sat down at my desk. I just got colder and colder till my hands were numb.

On Saturday, it was the same. Even after a huge bowl of hot porridge. I ended up huddled in a blanket on the couch in the only spot of sun trying to get warm again.  Sometimes I find that after eating, my extremities get icy cold as the blood rushes to my stomach (at least I think that's why it happens). Then as autumn progresses into winter, it all eventually settles down. So I want to know? Is there something I can eat/drink to make this process hurry up?

Soon though, everything will adjust and come August/September, these same temperatures will feel too hot.

Posted via email from Go Cycling