Modern Athlete Magazine Issue 130, May 2020 | Page 34

Donna with great friend Michelle
him. It helped to keep me calm, and made me feel a
slight connection to something outside this hell I’d put
myself into. Mine wasn’t funny.
Sweet Cooling
Relief
Eventually a small group of runners caught up to me,
and they had a good method of running from shady
patch to shady patch. However, a vertical left turn
arrived and something in me just hardened up. I hiked
up that hill and kept moving forward with slightly more
determination than a few minutes earlier. I walked and
walked, and then came to a stream. Now, if you recall,
this was the first long trail I’d attempted, and my inner
road runner was appalled when I realised that I would
have to wade through the water, and my shoes would
get wet.
had left them at home, and now my tried and tested
stomach settling race solution wasn’t there to save
the day.
Once we hit the road and the mountain was behind
us, we saw a vehicle on the side of the road with a
cooler box. Thinking this was an aid station, I ran
towards it and had a big sip of a non-alcoholic beer.
It was fabulous! Michelle got there and had a sip of
ice-cold water, and almost immediately, the entire
contents of her stomach, a good two to three litres of
water, found its way spectacularly onto the sand road.
Hitting a Low Point
In a rather dramatic scene, I was told to take the
sunblock and keep going, and I truly wanted to
cry. I felt ok and I knew if I left, I would not see my
‘trail running wife’ again for the rest of the race. The
halfway mark was about 5km ahead, and the thought
of continuing alone was terrifying, but I could do
nothing for her, and we both knew it. A passing runner
handed her a crash pack (a sachet that balances salt
and electrolytes), and we parted ways.
At the third aid station I quickly filled up my water
and made a move on. It was strange, because I felt
ok, but for some reason, I just couldn’t run. We knew,
from the weather predictions, to expect a hot day, and
they said it would be 44 degrees. I’d run road races in
similar temperatures, but hadn’t felt like this, so I put it
down to being undertrained. I was just on halfway and
about six hours in, and this was truly my lowest point.
As I walked, I feared I was lost. I could see no-one
ahead or behind, and the prospect of doing the rest
of this race seemed impossible. I cried. Softly at first,
then quite a bit. I remembered when my husband had
attempted the 100km Ultra-Trail Cape Town and at
his lowest point he made some video messages… in
the form of obituaries… and managed to be funny.
There was absolutely no reception, so phoning him
for a pep talk wasn’t an option, so I made a video for
To a road runner, this is a horrible prospect that can
only end in blisters and pain. But as I crossed the river,
the ice-cold water washed over my feet and a wave
of heavenly cooling hit me. It lightened my spirit. Then
I came to another stream where I wet my legs. At the
next one, I went onto my hand and knees and wet my
arms. And then, at the next stream, I simply sat down
in the water. It was the most amazing feeling ever!
This was where I was discovered by two runners
coming up behind me. Feeling a renewed sense of
self, I clung to these two runners, who turned out to
be locals, for dear life. As we continued together, we
did a bit of running, which amazed me, because a
short while before that, I thought I would be walking
the rest of the race. Then my water ran out, and
fortunately the locals assured me that the water in the
rivers was safe to drink. We must have run through
20 rivers, maybe more. Some were clear, some were
muddy, and each one was a Godsend.
Enforced Break
Finally, we arrived at the fourth aid station. I felt so
much better as I filled my up my water and grabbed
a freshly cut piece of watermelon. I was told to relax
Images: Richard Pearce & courtesy Donna Crossan
Attempting humour in a
video for her husband
34
ISSUE 130 MAY 2020 / www.modernathlete.co.za