COLUMN
Champions! Let me start with a confession.
On Sunday the 19 th of April, I ran the Chatsworth 52km ultra marathon. And I did it for one reason- to qualify for Comrades. Stop judging me!
I’ ve been‘ too busy’ to qualify so I’ ve‘ been forced’ to leave it to the last minute!
The Comrades Marathon qualification time for the Chatsworth Ultra is a 6-hour-29-minute-and-59-second finish, which works out to a pace of around 7:30 per kilometre. On paper, that’ s an easy pace. I mean, 7:30 per kilometre should be almost literally a walk in the park. So, that was my plan. I decided to ditch the original plan of using the Durban International Marathon on the 3rd of May to qualify because that would require a faster pace, and also it’ s literally on the deadline for Comrades qualification.
That was my thinking.
But, people warned me. And those who didn’ t warn me just said:“ Chatsworth 52km? Are you crazy? Have you done it before? Have you even seen the route?” They said things like: " Rory, those hills are not a joke and it tends to get really hot.”
But me? I was just thinking‘ 7:30 per kilometre’! Surely I could do that, no matter how tough the route was. I’ m not a beginner!
What I failed to account for, and what no pace calculator on earth could prepare me for was that the Chatsworth route contains a segment on Strava called‘ Higginson Torture’.
Higginson Torture. That is what it ' s called.
It is a 5km climb in the hot sun on a freeway with nowhere to hide. Five. Kilometres. Of climb. And in one of the most sadistic decisions in South African road-running history, the race organisers have placed it not at the start, when your legs are fresh, and not in the middle, when you could mentally prepare, but at kilometre 47. When you already have a full marathon in your legs, plus a 5km side quest, and your body is starting to ask questions like " What are you doing?" and " Have you considered stopping?” and“ Are you sure you want to still identify as a runner?”
And to be honest, by the time I hit Higginson Torture, I was no longer running. I was literally just prodding forwards while my hopes of a 06:29:59 finish started fading. I looked around and it was apocalyptic. Runners were all walking. Some were just standing still looking at the tar. Some were sitting on the kerb with their heads in their hands. The only thing really working at this point was the sun. And, it was working hard!
My champions, I missed qualifying by twelve minutes.
Twelve. Minutes.
Which, in the context of a 52km ultra, is not too serious. In the context of my Comrades qualification, it is a catastrophe.
I now have one shot left. The Durban International Marathon on the 3 rd of May. By the time you read this, I’ ll probably know my fate. If I don ' t qualify there, I will not run Comrades this year, for the first time since I started entering.
Here is the part that’ s keeping me up at night. My original plan was always to just qualify at Durban International. A flat, friendly, sea-level marathon. No dramatic climbs. No sadistic segment names. Nothing called Torture. I was supposed to just go there, run it, and qualify.
Instead, I saw an ultra-marathon with a 7:30 pace and thought, " Why not? How bad could it be?"
Now I am going into Durban International with a 52km ultra on my legs from two weeks earlier. And I genuinely do not know if this is a good thing or a terrible thing. On one hand,( one foot!) the training! The kilometres in the bank! The mental toughness! On the other hand( other foot!), the fatigue, the wear and tear, the worry that I have already cashed the cheque my legs were supposed to write on the 3 rd of May.
People keep asking me how I ' m feeling about it. I tell them I ' m feeling nervously optimistic. But what I ' m actually feeling is a very tight left calf and a sore right quad when I try to stand up from a chair.
So if you see me on the 3 rd of May, running the Durban International Marathon, please give me a wave. And shout something like,“ CHAMPION! You can do it!”
I ' ll know within the first 10 kilometres whether Higginson Torture trained me for this moment, or whether it just finished me early.
And if I don ' t qualify, at least I’ ve learned a very important lesson. The next time someone older, wiser, and more experienced than me says: " Don ' t run that route ", I’ ll probably ignore them again. Because clearly, that ' s who I am now!
See you next year, Chatsworth Ultra! I love you. 2-nils. www. modernathlete. co. za 19