Modern Athlete Magazine Issue 128, March 2020 | Page 17

E
very Easter weekend,
thousands of runners
descend on Cape Town to
take part in one of the biggest
races in South Africa, the Two
Oceans Ultra Marathon, a daunting
56-kilometre road race starting in
Newlands. You run to Muizenberg,
then turn back to go up and over
Chapman’s peak before you head to
the last big climb at Constantia Nek,
after which you spend your last bit of
energy getting your tired body to the
finish at the UCT sport fields. My brother
Andy had competed in two already, and he
described it as a brutal test for any runner. I
was sold on the idea.
Modern Athlete columnist and
features writer Peter ‘PJ’
Moses has come a long, long
way since his days with a gang
on the streets of Bonteheuwel in
Cape Town, and he attributes his
ongoing journey of redemption
to becoming a runner, in order
to give his life new purpose
and meaning. Join him as he
looks back on the road he has
travelled since his first race in
2013, and celebrate his triumphs
with him.
Qualifying for the race proved easy enough for me,
and by the end of February of 2014, I had run two
marathons under the qualifying time of five hours.
Getting the money to enter was the biggest hurdle,
but a friend blessed me with an entry when he had
to withdraw due to injury. All of a sudden, this dream
was becoming a reality, and I was set to run the
biggest race in my city.
Andy and his wife were coming from Port Elizabeth
to do the race, and she was also doing her first one,
so it was turning into a family affair. My parents,
who remained friendly after their divorce, were also
planning to attend and support us over the finish
line. “Don’t worry if you can’t finish, because nobody
expects you to do well your first time.” This was my
Dad’s way of encouragement, but it just pissed me off.
“It will be tough during the second half so don’t go out
too fast.” Andy’s advice made a lot more sense, but I
had already proven in my short time as a runner that
my build was better suited for running than his. He
was a solid mass of muscle, stronger than ever after
spending 10 years as a police officer, before moving
over to teaching firearm usage and practical law at the
traffic department training college. I was still tall and
light, not adding much in the way of weight since I
PJ and his family at the 2014 Two Oceans
finished school 20 years before. Maybe my life on the
fringe and drug-use over the years also had a role to
play, so it was a blessing in disguise, I guess.
I decided to ignore their doubts in my ability and go
do the best I could. It was finally a way of showing the
world the man I had become. It was to prove to the
many naysayers that you can change if you are willing
to put in the work.
I spent hours running alone, preparing for the ultra to
come. Sometimes it would be in the early morning
hours, when the sun was still struggling to light up
the sky. At other times it was late at night, running
home after a day of fulfilling my cleaning duties at
my unsatisfactory job. “You spend too much time
running, the kids don’t understand,” the mother of
my two boys would say as she prepared dinner and
I prepared to go for a late run. “The kids do not have
to understand, they are too small to realise what this
means to me! I thought maybe you would, but if you
don’t, I can’t really explain it.” The frustrations of my
life pushed me on, running harder each time.
Race day arrived and I felt scared out of my mind.
The doubts were buzzing in my head and the fear of
failure was like a weight on my shoulders. “Who are
you kidding?” the voice in my head insisted. After all,
I was a failure in life. An unemployed, uneducated
former gangbanger, struggling to care for two kids
and stuck in a relationship that had gone sour long
ago. My father was right… nobody was going to care
if I quit. It was what I had been doing most of my life,
anyway, so why should it be different now?
But as I made my way to the start, I smiled to myself
and whispered, “Well you’re here, mate, no turning
back now!” It was time to set the record straight and
prove that I was worthy of my place, not only on the
start line, but in this world as well. It was time to make
my children proud, and it was time to put a smile on
my Ouma’s face, because I was sure she was looking
down on me from Heaven.
As we gathered in our starting pens and got all the
formalities out of the way, a moment of complete
peace descended on me and I finally felt complete.
I was where I was always meant to be, and I was
about to do exactly what I was born to do. The horn
was blown and the starter’s gun set us on our way,
my first ultra was a reality and I was smiling about
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