Modern Athlete Magazine Issue 122, September 2019 | Page 44

the many things I gained from this experience was a
boost in appreciation for all the indescribably awesome
people I have in my life, who love me and back me
in all my madness! After tagging our eighth peak on
the group, I received another unexpected message,
from somebody who really, and seemingly carelessly,
broke my heart in the past. A message that, a month,
maybe even a week earlier, would have really rattled
me. I did, admittedly, send a few strong four-lettered
words echoing through the mountains, but I quickly
settled into feelings of indifference, liberation, healing,
forgiveness, contentment and peace.
One More Climb
was real! So we ran along the road quite quickly,
infused with subtle panic, trying to look as though we
belonged there, and eventually we made it out alive.
Along the way, we explored a few roads which were
interestingly named after either flowers or really old
people, before finally making it to JJ.
We had a brief introduction and briefing from JJ and
then up Suther Peak we went. I was a little low on
water, but was so distracted by how epic this climb
was. I do see why it is referred to as “Suffer Peak,”
but it’s a beautiful, pleasant kind of suffering, as
twisted as that sounds. In between bright green plants
were little bright yellow flowers (Sean, the nerd, was
dropping scientific names everywhere). There were a
few leafless, bare, burned trees, and looking through
their frames back down on the ocean, now lit up by
the midday sun, was nothing short of spectacular.
This was definitely a favourite!
Game Face On!
My Garmin’s battery died at the Chappies tollgate,
and of course, I had not brought the charger, but
Sean’s Fenix was still running, and of course, he
had his charger. (Sidenote: I want a Fenix.) A Red
Bull before our mission back into the mountains had
me fired up to summit Chapman’s Peak (#8) before
sunset. Now infused with sugar and caffeine, I think
at one point I even suggested the one-day challenge,
but there was no comment from realistic Mr Sean.
The light was stunning, with sea, sky, mountains,
plants all saturated with deep blues, greens, orange
and yellows, and we made it just in time to enjoy the
sunset at the beacon.
When it started to get foggy, I realised we were high
up, ascending through a cloud layer again. Sean was
constantly encouraging me, which helped too and I
could hear my phone buzzing from my support crew.
Finally, we hit a steady jeep track, went through a
hazy layer and into clear, starry skies at the summit
of Noordhoek Peak (#9). “Sean, look how awesome
Simon’s Town looks!” I said. “Leigh, that is Hout Bay!”
Clearly, I was still disorientated, but on such a high...
again, literally!
We took a ‘Blaire Witch Project photo’ with our
headlamps and then took the opportunity to reflect
on the day and say a prayer. We thanked God for
newly found perspective, and appreciation for family,
friends, nature and the strength we just proved we
I had set up another WhatsApp group before the
challenge for family and friends, where I posted
pictures, videos and updates, and where I got the most
incredible support and encouraging replies. One of
Back on Sandy Beach, JJ rewarded us each with
a strawberry Steri Stumpi, and I sat on the beach
chugging from a five-litre bottle of water. Ray was
there too, taking photos, laughing, joking – perfect
company for a little pit-stop. We refilled on water
and refuelled our spirits, then trotted back down
the streets named after old people. The next stretch
involved a lot of road running, through to the other
side of Hout Bay, dodging pedestrians and drivers
who should never have been awarded their licences.
Meanwhile, Ray leap-frogged us to capture some epic
photos. Sean and I walked the ups, but every time we
saw Ray and his camera, it was “Game face on, pose,
run, look fresh!”
We spent a while going on in the ‘almost dark’
without our headlamps, just as a safety precaution
to not attract too much attention to ourselves in the
low light. As we popped over another little hill, we
switched our lights on and then it was up and up to
our final peak for the day. I really struggled with this
climb. It had been a long day on the legs, and I was
overwhelmed by the enormity of what we had already
done. Every step felt heavy, and the climb felt really
long and steep. Now that we were back in the dark, I
was also disorientated, which exhausted me further.
44
ISSUE 122 SEPTEMBER 2019 / www.modernathlete.co.za