Modern Athlete Magazine Issue 123, October 2019 | Page 21

THE RUNNING MANN
Hills, Hills and More Hills
this new innovation, and my quads were violently
protesting as I bent down to grab sachets at the last
few stations.
I was completely finished at the finish
Sweet Cravings
The first 18km are all on dirt road heading away from
Blood River towards the R33, the main road connecting
Dundee with Vryheid. The scenery was stunning as
we tried to warm up on the undulating roads, and
our attempts to get the blood circulating were aided
by a monstrous 4km climb starting at the 9km mark,
which also marked the highest point on the route, just
under 1300m above sea level. From there it was a 5km
downhill plummet to the lowest point on the route (just
under 1150m), followed by a return to the tarmac as we
hit the R33 and turned left towards Dundee.
From 24km there is another 3km monster hill, followed
by a 4km downhill cruise. A short flat section then
leaves you with just 10km to go – normally a piece
of cake for a hardened marathon runner – but I
had been warned about the torturous climb into
Dundee. However, no one bothered to mention that
it is not one climb, but three major hills, and my hill
negotiation skills were severely lacking. In fact, they
made the British government’s Brexit manoeuvres
look positively skilful!
With only water on offer, my sugar and energy stores
were totally depleted over the second half of the
race, and I was rapidly sliding into acute glycaemic
meltdown. I always carry a bit of money on me,
ostensibly to buy beer after a marathon, and my
distress got to the level where I was willing to sacrifice
my beer money for a soda or some sweets from a
spaza shop. Sadly there was nothing around. I was
desperate for anything other than water, so just before
the final climb into Dundee, when I spotted a herd of
cows, I asked the elderly cowherd if I could try my
hand at milking his cows, but was told “they’re not
those kind of cows.”
When I finally stumbled into the finish venue at the
Dundee Oval, I counted myself lucky to be amongst
the 103 survivors. (The final race distance was
43,2km but the organisers graciously gave us the
extra kilometre free of charge.) Although there was
no Coke (or medals) for the surviving soldiers at the
finish, Biggarsberg Athletic Club chairperson Lani van
der Mescht was on hand to support her athletes, and
I gratefully accepted a couple of cups of Coca-Cola
from the Biggarsberg cooler box.
Waxing Lyrical
I always find the first marathon after Comrades to be
really easy mentally. After all, it’s “just a marathon,”
compared to the brutality one has recently been
subjected to on the road between Durban and
Pietermaritzburg. However, I found this to be the
toughest marathon I’ve run this year. I’m putting it
down to lack of sugar and the icy cold conditions,
rather than post-Comrades lethargy and over-eating.
After a marathon like this, one might be inclined to
get philosophical but I resisted that urge. Instead,
I decided to take some poetic license by (slightly)
misquoting Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s ‘The Charge of
the Light Brigade,’ a poem written about the Battle of
Balaclava during the Crimean War.
“Forward, the Light Brigade!
Someone had blunder’d:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of Dundee
Ran the one hundred.”
When I posted my version of the poem on social
media, my ex-running friend Steve, who is prone
to even worse punnery than I am, announced his
lack of sympathy for my plight with this response:
“Crimean river.”
History Lesson: Dorothy Nyembe
Running marathons all around SA has vastly improved my geography knowledge, and these days it’s helping
with my history knowledge as well. Those of us who graduated high school under the Apartheid schooling
system were presented with a rather skewed version of South African history, and races named after struggle
heroes provides the opportunity to get acquainted with other perspectives on South Africa’s past.
I cast a hunched and pitiful shadow as I slowly ground
out those last 10km on the lonely and desolate road to
the Dundee Oval. What I would have given for a piece
of cake (or refined sugar of any kind) over that last
10km! Although the race flyer promised us Coca-Cola,
the support tables had no Coke... and no tables... and
many of them did not even have a human to hand
water sachets to us. Most races provide “stand and
hand” seconding, but the Dorothy Nyembe organisers
decided to cut costs and trial the “dump and pump”
self-service technique. I can’t say that I’m a fan of
Dorothy Nyembe was born in Dundee in 1931, and became involved in activism as a 21-year-old, playing a
distinguished role in the African National Congress and various women’s organisations. She was arrested,
detained and imprisoned several times, spending a total of 18 years in prison (the longest period for any
female activist). She lived to see democracy in 1994 and was a founding signatory of the constitution as well
as a Member of the National Assembly in the first democratically elected parliament. She passed away on 17
December 1998.
I took particular pleasure in reading that she stood up for the right to brew beer, protesting government-
controlled beer halls, which were designed to remove traditional beer-brewing as a source of income for local
women, who performed most of the brewing.
‘Dump and pump’ water stations
The first 18km were on gravel
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