MULTISPORT
Hitting the Wall Hard !
Up until this point I had really been enjoying myself . I was looking forward to lighting the braai and I figured that if I got my timing right , I might be able to sit down to eat , wallowing in the glory of a successful Home Ironman finish . Before the event , Kathy was very sceptical about the practicalities and sensibilities of the braai plan . However , I was well ahead of schedule and she showed renewed faith in her husband , even jokingly asking whether I could “ wash the dishes as well ?” I replied that she “ shouldn ’ t push her luck ,” but for a fleeting moment did wonder whether I should add dishwashing into the Home Ironman mix .
Those who ’ ve done endurance events know all about the wall . I prefer to call it the trip switch . One minute you ’ re running along without a care in the world , and the next all pleasure has turned to pain , and your fun to another word starting with ‘ fu .’ The teenage kilometres were tumultuous . I spent most of them locked away deep inside the pain cave . Whilst my driveway is a lot more attractive than Welkom , even tiny ultra-marathons in this Free State town provide the opportunity for some interaction with other runners , and I typically distract myself over many kilometres by chatting to other runners on the road . There were no such distractions from the drudgery of my driveway .
The Lights Go Out …
I was starting to get my mojo back when disaster struck at 5:30pm . There was a loud bang in the distance and the entire neighbourhood lost power – and with the loss of power went my sense of humour . Further losses were incurred to my overall time as I tried to get the live streaming back online using a 3G card on my laptop , with limited success .
Although I ’ d planned to light a braai , Kathy had made a unilateral executive decision to veto my dinner plans and was warming up the oven for supper when the power went . I don ’ t think I would have been too disappointed to drop the planned braai – I ’ d probably have feigned some resistance , but would have been glad to have no further distractions and let her cook the dinner . However , Eskom removed the homecooked meal option , and since Minister Bheki Cele had removed the take-way menu , the only option left for a hot meal was the braai .
This is what I look like without my sense of humour
The Magic Dance was the right kind of sorcery to keep me going
I set myself a target of getting to 28km before lighting the braai . I figured that I ’ d light the fire and then enjoy a change of scenery by walking laps around the perimeter of our property , which has a lot of uneven cobblestones and slippery steps and was therefore not suitable for running , to get to 30km . I was really looking forward to this long walk , but after a few laps I looked at the GPS and saw that the distance had hardly moved . I don ’ t use Strava much and assume that I was walking too slowly for the distance to count !
At that stage , my brain was too exhausted to try and adjust technical settings , so the easiest option was to hit the driveway and start running again . The next seven lonely kilometres seemed to take an age . As night fell , my wife came to the rescue by getting out all the empty coffee jars we ’ d dutifully washed and stored in the cupboard over the years . I mentioned earlier that the ironing of the Ottosdal Nite Marathon shirt in T2 was prophetic , as Kathy created my very own Ottosdal Nite Marathon experience by lining the driveway with lanterns .
Luckily , my neighbour , Mike Fraser , chose this moment to pop his head over ( and his beer on ) the boundary wall to give me some encouragement . This was exactly what I needed . It got my mind off the pain , and I enjoyed the stilted conversation we had as I passed him several times about two-thirds up the driveway . ( Mike is also the founder of 4c Recruitment , which very generously donated R5000 to Just The One Foundation .)
On the live stream , I had now been relegated to a supporting role , with my youngest ( and extremely extroverted ) daughter taking over the starring role . She was performing all sorts of crazy tricks and dances for the live streaming audience . I was told that I needed to join her for the “ Magic Dance ,” and I begrudgingly accepted the invitation , but was grateful that I did . The distraction helped me forget about my own aching body for a while , and on the back of this sorcery was able to push the distance into the 20s .
As for my “ braaiing whilst running a marathon ” plan , I ’ m declaring it a partial success . I did manage to light the coals , get the potatoes on the braai ( and turn them a couple of times ), and even got the meat onto the grid . However , seeing the pitiful pangs of hunger in our children ’ s eyes , Kathy ’ s maternal instincts kicked in and she made another emasculating executive decision . I was banished from the braai area and told to “ finish this damn thing .” ( My memory is hazy at this point … she may well have used stronger language .)
Get It Done !
Freed from the obligation to feed my wife and kids , I quite enjoyed my exile to the driveway and the last 7km went surprisingly smoothly . I enjoyed a few over the wall conversations with the Frasers , and at least the rain had stopped , but the coldness of the night air did nothing for my aching joints . Still , knowing
Images : Courtesy Stuart Mann
32 ISSUE 136 DECEMBER 2020 / www . modernathlete . co . za