Modern Athlete Magazine Issue 131, June 2020 June 2020 | Page 44

Discombobulating escape
from gravity, Hermanus
Lesson #11: Probably the most
important one… Listen to your
body!
After a pouncing puff adder’s wake-up call, and a
nasty wake-up ‘fall,’ resulting in damage to tendons
and ligaments in my left ankle, I took a moment to
reassess the balance of activities in my life. I knew I
was running far too much. But, once my ankle had
deflated (a little), I continued to run on it, adding a little
extra load to my ‘good foot’ to take the pressure off.
I was the fittest and fastest I had ever been, getting
Strava segment trophies on almost every run, both
road and trail. I figured I had to do one last race for
the year. So, I entered the Berg and Beach 30km trail
race in Hermanus. Leading up to the race, I started
feeling a pesky pain in my right hip. I would feel groin
discomfort at the start of a run, but continued to plod
along until it settled into no more than a tolerable, dull
ache. I self-diagnosed it as a compensation strain
from trying to take weight off my twisted left ankle.
So, I basically ignored it.
Lesson #12: Recognise your
personal limits. Be realistic
Just because you’ve done a few long runs and got
Top 10 trophies on a few Strava segments, does not
mean you’re going to beat the sponsored athletes…
But having made my way up the ranks despite my
fatigue and misfortunes, I had to throw my all into
this one last race for 2019, just to see where I stand
relative to the competition.
Swimming in Silvermine Dam
So, after a hop, skip and a jump to shake off the hip
niggle, I started what felt like an endless, gradual climb
up a mountain that I did not know at all. I realised that I
was well trained for steep inclines, and a specialist on
the downhills, but long, gradual ‘ups,’ were unfamiliar
to me. Running these steady climbs was too difficult,
but walking seemed too inefficient, so I was doing an
awkward in-between waddle, of sorts. My confidence
took a knock as people began to overtake me. I was
very tired, and started getting irritated by the hip niggle,
making my legs feel very heavy.
Eventually, I reached the highest point in the race,
just short of 1000m above sea level. I hardly paused
to look at the view, nor did I assess the complexity
of the downhill ahead. The steep, slippery, rocky and
technical descent had everyone making their way
down cautiously and responsibly. Meanwhile, reckless
me on gravity-assist, I zoomed past a number of
people, collecting my confidence again along the way.
Lessons #13: Take off the pressure.
Take in the beauty of your
surrounds
For the better part of this race, I felt like an injured
baby buck, running away from a pack of hungry
lionesses (the women I was trying to beat). But I
had finally managed to gain some ground, and for
quite a while I was completely on my own, with
no-one in sight ahead or behind me. So this bokkie
began bouncing blissfully along the trails as though
‘predators’ did not exist.
I slowed my breathing, feeling the fresh, cool air filling
my lungs, and my heart rate steadied as I stared up
at a cloud-covered mountain. My hip pain even eased
as I glared over a grumpy, grey sea. As I took nature
in, I felt the storm inside my body move out. It was
magnificent, mountain and sea, familiar yet unfamiliar,
misty mountains, streams, forests, flickering sunlight,
glittered rain. For a brief moment, I forgot that I was
racing at all.
Lesson #14: Recognise the
difference between healthy and
unhealthy competition
In the distance, I saw a route marker flag. My
competitive side pulled me out of my peaceful
paradise, insisting that I had to make a top 10 finish.
The last few kilometres were tough, but I crossed the
line to finish fourth woman. Even though I finished well
up the top 10, I could not help but be disappointed
that it was not Top three.
After a refreshing dip in a tidal pool and celebratory
lunch with my best friend, Tammy, however, I could
hardly stand, walk, move or drive. My hip was in
excruciating agony! For the first time I had to admit
that something was horribly wrong…
Lesson #15: Just because you’re
ignoring it, does not mean it is not
there
After the race, and to the detriment of my kidneys, I
masked the pain with a preposterous dose of assorted
anti-inflammatories. A few days later, I continued with
my daily, physical activities at work, and otherwise. I
proceeded to shake off the hip pain, until it became
‘background noise…’ until I tried to run again. The
muzzled, dull ache quickly transformed into a sharp,
shooting pain. Impossible to ignore.
Images: Barbara Cole, Ray Chaplin, Sean Altern, & Courtesy Leigh De Necker
Malaise in the Hermanus mountains,
Berg and Beach Trail Run
How I love a downhill! Berg and
Beach Trail Run
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ISSUE 131 JUNE 2020 / www.modernathlete.co.za