Modern Athlete Magazine Issue 131, June 2020 June 2020 | Page 20

ROAD RUNNING
THE ADVENTURE BEGINS
I hadn’t been in Durban for almost 25 years, and
it was also my first time on an airplane, which I
soon discovered is literally a tin can with rockets
strapped on the sides. All of this made for incredible
excitement, especially as we entered King Shaka
International Airport, where a big banner hung in the
entrance foyer greeting all the Comrades runners. I
had survived the flight, and it was on!
We stayed on a farm in Wartburg, a new world with
its sugarcane fields and Valley of a Thousand Hills,
for a memorable couple of days, until the alarm went
at 1:30am that Sunday morning… It felt like the
past excitement of Christmas morning as a child,
intermingled with incredible terror of what was to come.
I thought about my bed, and
to fight the desire to lie down
and sleep on the side of the
road. I truly thought this is
just too much, I can’t do
it, and started planning
my status update on
Facebook, explaining why
I didn’t make it. Eventually
I couldn’t even do a
simple math sum to work
out how far I had run, and
was properly buggered. I
had drained my body and
was exhausted, cramping,
sunburnt and just fed up.
However, I told myself to
just keep going, it is one day,
you can rest every other day
hereafter, so just keep moving
forward and get through this.
It’s amazing the delight you get when you
see a fellow club member on the road! With
about 20km to go I had caught up with Beaumont
and Keith, and Beaumont told me, “Stick with us and
you’ll get there, Keith will bring you in.” The thing is,
you are still on your own legs and have to cover the
mileage yourself, but he wasn’t wrong, it really does
help being with someone you know, even if you don’t
know them other than being from your club.
LESSONS LEARNT ON
THE ROAD
I went up Polly Shortts next to Louis Massyn, the man
with more than 40 medals, and only when I got within
2km of the stadium realised I had enough time to walk
if I wanted to, and as such I had made it. As I entered
the stadium, I remember the late Graham Ross’s
delight in cheering me on. He was genuinely so happy,
and I will always remember that about him. I started
walking again, until a random guy came up next to me
and said, “Come on, let’s run this!” Shortly after that,
this stranger and I crossed the finish line, hands held
aloft, and hugged like we had known each other for
years. That’s happened each time I’ve finished since,
by the way. It’s as if you don’t care who it is, you just
need someone to hug!
Anyway, lesson learnt, as during the race I popped
about 2 Myprodols, 3 magnesium tablets and 1
Panado. After walking around the stadium for half
an hour looking for our club tent – good advice is to
make an effort to memorise where this will be before
running – I eventually found it and soon proceeded
to vomit my lungs out. I got sick three times before I
lost control of my bladder as well. I did this twice, to
some strange looks from passers-by (I couldn’t care,
by this stage), and then threw up once more for good
measure.
I could barely move, and along with this, my throat
had developed a bumpy rash on the inside from
sucking air for just over 11 hours. I couldn’t drink
anything, and definitely couldn’t eat until late the next
day. When I weighed myself on the Monday evening
back at home, I was six kilograms lighter, and the next
four days were spent on my back. I was grey, and
felt like I had done something stupid and awful to my
body. Which I had… but come the next weekend, I
was already looking forward to the next one!
COMRADES 2015
Jayde Brammer 11:14:41
Sean Altern 11:23:31
Luke Altern DNF
Devon Hansen DNF
After months of training and sacrifice (and a near
miss with buck on the way down to Durban) we found
ourselves looking for a spot to have a wee in the town
centre, near the start. I’m sure the Durban shop-owners
wonder every second year what they did wrong in life
to deserve the treatment their shop frontages receive!
Anyway, the birds were chirping, as I had been told
they would, it was warm, the seeding pens didn’t smell
too good, and the tension in the air was palpable. Soon
the anthem played, Vangelis followed, tears welled up,
horns blew, and all of a sudden the cannon went and
we set off into the humid Durban streets, not knowing
where exactly we were going, but aware it would be
into the stratosphere of our running careers.
UPS AND DOWNS
Truth be told, I didn’t enjoy it. The first few kilometres
were more crowded than anything I had ever
experienced, and the hills seemed to never end.
Often I get into a zone when running and can eat up
a couple of kays without even knowing it, but in that
race every step was a conscious decision I needed to
make as I stuck to my mantra for the day, “Whatever
you do, don’t stop moving forward.”
I wanted to do it for my Grandpa, and after around 70
kays, I really wanted to finish it, so that I would never
have to do it ever again! Every few steps, I cramped.
The Fish Hoek
foursome ready
for the 2015
Comrades start
Images: Tina Heppe & courtesy Sean Altern
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ISSUE 131 JUNE 2020 / www.modernathlete.co.za