Modern Athlete Magazine Issue 76, November 2015 | Page 20

Ma

my story

Running with
For months leading up to the event, I
visualised crossing the finish line with my
chest puffed out and the biggest smile on
my face, but no matter what I achieve,
my son isn’t with me to share the elation.
Cross a million finish lines, Jed is never
going to be there, his big blue eyes looking
for his mommy in the crowd. I knew
that going into Comrades, and I knew
that when finishing… because my pain is
always with me. – BY BONITA SUCKLING

T

he Comrades Marathon start
line was surreal. I looked over
and saw a man holding his
hand on his heart, like a US
soldier going to war, while
singing the words of our National Anthem.
I guess that was my ‘a-ha moment’ and
I realised “damn, I’m gonna run 87km!”
Chariots of Fire had me snotting a little, as
I thought of the meaning of the Comrades,
while hugging friends and strangers next to
me. I had spent six months eating, sleeping,
chanting and worshipping this event (of
which six weeks was spent reading and not
running due to an injury).

badly, so I had picked up the pace as I saw a
massive rock with an invisible ‘pee behind me’
sign. I sprinted to the rock, but it was also at
that point that I passed my friends. I can only
imagine what they thought as I sprinted past
them! All I was thinking was get to that rock;
they were probably thinking psychosis!

The race started and immediately, from
the first kilometre, I felt my ankles hurt,
my knees felt strange, and my PinkDrive
sock had an annoying crease. By the fifth
kilometre I knew that it was going to be a
long day out, but I didn’t need to conserve
energy or hold back – I have one pace, and
I just ran at that pace. Instead, I want to
remember every highlight of the event in
every detail, but still, these are the ones that
stood out for me…

Meeting up with my mate Gavin was another
highlight. I am forever indebted to him for
my Comrades time. I never doubted I would
finish, but I would never have done a 10:45
without his enthusiastic “Dig deep, girl, dig
deep… remember why you’re doing this.”
Reaching for Gav’s hand at the 75km mark
when I was in a dark patch, looking into his
eyes and saying, “Thank you, Gav.” He knew
I was talking about my son at this point and
just said, “It’s okay, girl, it’s okay.”

Getting to the point where I knew I only had
56km left… I knew I had run 56km before
and kept telling myself if I could get to 56km
to go, then I could finish. I would just press
repeat on my physical ability button. I forgot
that at that 56km mark I would have already
run 31km (or 33km, as my Garmin says we
eventually ran 89km), but seeing that 56km
sign was incredible. I also took out the names
of the other 55 children I have printed on my
hankie and wiped my tears away...

Of course there were massive lows and dark
moments, too. The reality that no matter
what I achieve, it will never bring my son
back. The reality that they may never find
a cure for cancer, and that no matter how
many times I run Comrades (or do the
Ironman), research budget constraints will
remain a concern. But the little voice in my
head kept saying, “Go Mommy, make today
the funnest day ever!” That little voice was
what the day was about... Jed’s voice, and
the faces of the mommies who were waiting
for me to cross that line in memory of their
children. #CozJedMatters.

Meeting my close friends along the route
was another highlight, but I needed a pee

Passing the school of disabled children,
seeing their smiles and high-fiving their
hands as I ran past… a highlight I can’t put
into words. Anyone who knows how much
I love children will know how much this
moment meant to me. I pictured hitting
Jed’s hand as I ran past. If only…

Bonita heads up Rainbows & Sm [\