On Sunday 30th April , 37 runners tackled the self-supported Spartan Baby Badass Ultra ( SBBU ) at the Italian Club in Bedfordview , Johannesburg . While 33 of the athletes set out to run 100km by covering 4.167km every hour , on the hour for 24km , another four athletes opted for the tougher 100-miler ( 161km ), covering 4.167 miles ( 6.7km ) each hour . The runners did a variety of loops around the beautiful gardens of Bedfordview and through the grounds of the Italian Club , past the unique SetteBello Restaurant and alongside the neighbouring Italian retirement village , |
Casa Serena . The runners were all non-professional athletes testing their limits in a safe community environment , and all money raised in this CHOC Cows event will go to the CHOC Childhood Cancer Foundation SA , which helps kids with cancer , and their families .
Besides tackling the physical challenge , it ’ s running for this great cause that spurs the Spartan warriors of the SBBU to keep going through a long , hard 24 hours of running , but many fall victim to the distance and ever shortening rest periods between loops . Any runner who cannot finish the SBBU needs to hand in their race number and stand to attention while a bagpiper plays Taps , confirming their abandonment of the race . This is a gruelling but hugely fun event , with all participants choosing a race nickname for the duration of the event , and the camaraderie and humour amongst both runners and supporters is a core part of the event , as can be seen by this incredible recounting of the event by Rob Riccardi , a . k . a . Belloc72 .
Monday 1 May , 2am ( Loop 17 )
The black tar road spreads out to infinity at about 2am . Shards of splintered bone shiv their way into the sinew and muscle fibres . My legs have reduced themselves to a walk for a few hours now . The running in them causes the ankles to detach from the shin bones . I cannot hear any cracking in the ankles , but I can feel the cracking .
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Belloc72 still looking chipper early in the event
It makes me think of the words of Wilfred Owen ’ s poem , Dulce et Decorum Est , written during the First World War : Bent double , like old beggars under sacks , Knock-kneed , coughing like hags , we cursed through sludge , Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs And towards our distant rest began to trudge . Men marched asleep . Many had lost their boots But limped on , blood-shod . All went lame ; all blind ; Drunk with fatigue ; deaf even to the hoots Of tired , outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind .
The night ’ s embrace is turning into my own nightmare on Elm Street . Suburbia is becoming dystopian . Leaves of trees lolling in the gentle breeze resemble ashes wafting from funeral pyres . Post-boxes resemble heads on pikes . My fellow comrades ,
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Images : Courtesy Rob Riccardi , Richard Laskey & the CHOC Cows |