Life ’ s too short for just one sport
I
started writing this many years ago . Well , at least the story begins back when Joburg and Pretoria were cities separated by miles of golden highveld grass . Footpaths and cattle tracks criss-crossed wide-open , windless spaces ; the only access roads were sand . It was a remote , wonderful place and time to grow up – sans cellphone , just an old chopper to cruise for miles with mates , bare feet or in takkies to hike , then strip to undies to explore the once-clean Jukskei River . We were fit and feral . No boundaries , just sunshine energy and a lack of respect for rote-learning homework . A 10km run or 40km ride to visit neighbours , then hours in the river or pool playing catch or stingers was nothing special . Looking back that ’ s pretty much an Olympic distance triathlon a day – how different to the screen-glued mall rats of today .
This way of life never wore off . We just focused our energy into school sports and competition as BMX bikes turned into racers , takkies turned into spikes or trainers , and we wore goggles and speedos for galas . School turned to army , then varsity , and as event distances increased so did the training hours and the reward of knowing we could . The first adventure races came to SA in the 90s , 500km Raid-style team of four , self-navigated , sleepless crusades through mind-blowing spaces . Abseiling and river paddling were thrown in to spice up massively long mountain bike and trail run stages through night and day . As social training we ’ d race Two Oceans , Double Century , Durban Ultra and the like . If it was fast & fun or long & hard we lined up for it , weekend after weekend . We were bulletproof , single and addicted to endorphins . All our student job money was spent driving to races and drinking beer afterwards to make sleeping in the car more bearable .
After the army and varsity , I travelled overseas to see the big wide world . I had qualified via Durban Ultra to race IRONMAN Worlds in Hawaii , which was nearly a year later , so I set off to work in Europe as leg one of an around-the-world ticket . Standout memories are rollerblading across London to work , surfing the Canary Islands , riding across rain-soaked Ireland , trail running and golf in Scotland , snowboarding in Kitzbühel as a lift operator , and even swimming in the Thames .
Once I had saved up enough money to travel I set off on a bike-packing trip around the world , climbing every mountain , surfing every wave , paddling every river and biking cities every chance I had . I even got to race a tri in hallowed San Diego , California . A month of surfing and forest trail running in Kauai , plus a chance MTB ride with Missy Giove on O ’ ahu made me feel like I was fit as ever – but when I arrived in Kona I was surrounded by stick insects in calf socks . Oops ! I was on the opposite end of
14 BIKERUNTRI bikeruntri . co . za
If it was fast & fun or long & hard we lined up for it , weekend after weekend . We were bulletproof , single and addicted to endorphins
We look forward to feedback on the mag and your multisport stories .
the spectrum – a 100kg surfer who looked more like a rugby player than a triathlete . It dawned on me that I ’ d overestimated my muscle memory and that the hot , windy lava fields of Kona would be a sufferfest , not the spectacle I ’ d travelled a year to experience . Instead of racing I opted for a lucky spot on the press truck , alongside my idol Mark Allen who took
a break from winning in 1994 to watch his arch rival Dave Scott try to win at 40 . That was a week of my multisport mad life I ’ ll never forget .
My purple anodized GT Zaskar MTB fitted with touring panniers transported me across southern China , then from Singapore to Burma . Along the way I saw and did so much . Sleeping on floors of fisherman ’ s huts in rice paddies , eating hand-caught fish , watching people devour live insects , being arrested twice for riding with no shirt and without a tour bus escort , and swimming from island to island in magical Thailand are among many memorable moments of a journey of a lifetime that could only be experienced in full sensory mode by bicycle .
After two years of globetrotting , with eye-opening introspection , I returned to post-Apartheid SA resolute that I would live in the best country on earth and pursue a career in sport media . The universe conspired and , after surfing with key members ( including the captain ) of the Australian rugby team just days before their 1995 World Cup opener , which they unsurprisingly lost to the much more focused bokke , I began a sporting career that I have loved for over 30 years . I cycled with Lance in his heyday , ran bigcity marathons , witnessed Michael Johnson breaking the 400m world record while shooting pics on the track , interviewed Marion Jones before she was arrested – among many more pinch-me sports fan moments .
I still mountain bike , trail run and race triathlons day in , month out , year after year . Did I mention paddling and hiking ? Safe to say I ’ m addicted to multisport – there are worse habits ! Endorphins keep me sane in what would otherwise be a stressful job , and I ’ ve stayed optimally healthy , never bored nor injured by singular muscle overuse . I appreciate the beautiful spaces I get to explore with like-minded others , much more than the results that nobody remembers . The sheer privilege of a multisport lifestyle that happens to double as my career as publisher , editor and event host is not lost on me for a single sunrise . Every landscape , city , season , weather and piece of equipment provides an opportunity to explore , experience and feel something new .
I hope that this first edition of BikeRunTri mag inspires you to try something that challenges you outside of your daily routine , or even better to travel somewhere interesting to do it . So many trails , so little time !
PHOTOGRAPH : DEVIN THIART