ROAD RUNNING |
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marathon , but I still managed to end in a decent time of four hours . |
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My second marathon about a month later gave my spirit of adventure another fix when my lack of transport led me to another night of searching for shelter . This time I found myself on the streets of Green Point , close to Cape Town Stadium , wandering about with my running gear in a backpack and no place to sleep . What made this time harder than the Fish Hoek race was the fact that there was no police station anywhere nearby , so that option was not on the table . |
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Images : Jetline Action Photo & courtesy PJ Moses |
By the age of 15 I was ready to get inked by the JSK , but first I had to prove that I was willing to become a provider for the gang , and so a few of us gang newbies had to go and rob someone . We decided the best place to accomplish this would be the main road behind Modderdam High School … with little pedestrian traffic , finding an isolated target would take patience , but wouldn ’ t be too hard , and it was right next to the school ’ s sport field , so that getting away would be easy after the deed was done .
It was a cold windy day , scattered with rain , so hiding our identities by wearing wool beanies and rain jackets wouldn ’ t raise suspicion with passersby . I was shivering as we stood next to the school ’ s outside wall , not sure if it was because of the cold or because I was about to cross a line that I knew I could never uncross . We watched the road intently , trying to find a suitable prey that would provide us with easy bounty . We passed a weed joint amongst ourselves as we prepared for that moment , and there was very little chatter amongst us . We were hoping the weed would calm our nerves with every deep drag we took .
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One of the lookouts we had placed further down whistled loudly as he spotted a potential victim , and we tensed with anticipation as a lone figure on a bike approached our position . He could have been a father on his way to work , already running late because of the weather conditions , or maybe he was a young student on the way to the University of the Western Cape , which was a 40-minute bike ride away . We didn ’ t know , and we didn ’ t care , because at that moment he was just a means to an end , a way for us to get enough street credibility to be allowed official entry into a gangster ’ s life .
We pounced like a cackle of hungry Hyenas . We rushed at him from the side of the road , and he had little time to react . I remember being oblivious to the cars hooting at us as they drove by and saw what was happening . “ Gryp die vark !” shouted one of my companions loudly , at nobody in particular .
The would-be victim jumped off the bike , but held on tightly to one of the wheels . Three of us were pulling at the bike trying to get it from his grasp . He had a vice-like grip and refused to let go . We swore at him , hit and kicked him , but he was holding onto the bike like the fate of the world depended on it . Strangely , even though I was one of his attackers , I admired him for his courage . Time was running out , and soon we heard the calls for us to go . We failed to deliver the goods , but we had showed enough heart to earn our spots . Later I would have three letters tattooed on my
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right thigh , and the start of a long , dark journey had begun .
Running provided me with an emergency brake for a life that had long ago spun out of control and was heading for the cliffs at breakneck speed . But there was nothing easy when I applied this brake to my life , because it came with its own sacrifices and challenges . I found myself at times wanting to step outside of my body and slap my own face , while shouting , “ Are you a looney toon , mate , what the hell are you thinking ?”
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I remember doing my first marathon in Fish Hoek . I had no money to pay for a lift to this race , and because of its early start , I did not have the option of using public transport on race day . So instead of skipping this race and having to postpone my marathon debut , in my infinite and cosmic wisdom , I decided to take the last train of the day from Cape Town to Fish Hoek on the Saturday night and spend the evening finding a ‘ cosy ’ shopfront or a bus shelter to sleep in .
Fish Hoek by day is idyllic , its welcoming embrace accompanied by the gentle sea breeze blowing across Main Road and the sounds of the waves from the nearby beach . But that picture changes with the setting of the sun , especially if you have nowhere to lay down your weary head . Then it becomes a place of threatening shadows and alarming sounds that tense you up as the shops , bars and restaurants close their doors for the night . Spend a few hours walking up and down Main Road looking for a place to sleep and you find yourself only filled with paranoia and anxiety .
Thankfully , the sight of a police van driving by not only brought me relief , but also a ‘ Eureka !’ moment where the answer I had been searching for jumped out from its hiding place . I needed a place to spend the night , and the Fish Hoek police station was the best place to do that . The police would surely not turn me away if I told them my story , and so with a spring in my step and renewed hope , I charged down the road to the police station – a strange thing for me , because in my previous , dark existence , I often found myself trying to avoid the boys in blue , like a vampire would avoid sunlight .
“ You ’ re running in the marathon tomorrow and you want to sleep here tonight ? It ’ s ok , but we only have that wooden bench , will that be fine ?” they said . “ Thank you , I ’ ll take it !” Not the best prep for a
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Green Point also had a lot more foot traffic at night , and the amount of homeless roaming the streets or ladies of the night plying their ancient trade was making it a very lively but dangerous place to be . It ’ s usually not what you see in the light that you should fear , but what hides in the shadows that should fill you with trepidation .
I spent that night resting my head on a bench next to Main Road , not daring to close my eyes . It was a long night , but if I had the choice to do it again , I wouldn ’ t think twice about it . I don ’ t know if it was the lack of sleep that night or the heightened alert levels in my body , but the morning of the marathon I ran a personal best time of three hours 26 minutes , and the joy of being alive filled my being .
Even though the challenges I face on this running path are many , I would not want it any other way , because it gives my life purpose , and provides me with a chance to earn my salvation … even though the Bible says salvation is free . I chose all those years ago to roam in the darkness and live among the shadows , but now I have chosen to run in the light and shine bright in the darkness .
Now I think back to my first ever race . A Wednesday evening , in the warmth of late summer , provided me with the perfect opportunity to see what running was really about . I arrived at the venue , the Sea Point Promenade , 20 minutes before the start of the 10km race and it was swarming with people brought together by a love of running – there were all skin colours and many different shapes and sizes . I learnt a very valuable truth about running that day : It ’ s not prejudicial . Running is a sport that makes the playing field level , and only through hard work in training will you reach your full potential and perhaps shine above the rest .
“ Registration and late entries to your right , tog-bags to your left next to the port-a-loos , thank you !” There was an excitement in the air that made me feel alive as I got my race number and handed my bag in at the tog-bag area , before finding a spot on the grassy part of the promenade , with the blue sea to my right and the majestic Table Mountain to my left , looking down with a knowing eye at the spectacle unfolding before it . Cape Town seemed to be putting on a show just for me , flashing her extravagant perfection at me like a stripper flashes her secret places at an intoxicated customer in one of the many strip clubs I used to frequent in my past life .
I breathed in the refreshingly salty sea air and kept to myself , but I watched in fascination as runners
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