Your monthly column with the Rope Runner
Holding the rope when doubt pulls hardest
By Marissa Groenewald
COLUMN
I rope ran the Cape Town Marathon … and if I’ m being completely honest, I went into it feeling a little undercooked. Nervous & quietly unsure.
Which is strange, because I’ ve done big things before. But this felt different. Bigger. With Cape Town on the brink of Abbott World Major status, I could feel the weight of it – the eyes, the potential, the opportunity for rope running to be seen on a much bigger stage.
No one put that pressure on me. I did that all by myself.
I started in Batch F on Beach Road and deliberately placed myself right at the back. Partly out of respect for the runners around me, but also to settle into the rhythm of the rope. And then the race started … and the first 13km humbled me properly.
My arms felt like they were going to fall off. Every swing of the rope felt heavy, and the questions came quickly: Did you actually train enough for this? On top of that, I’ ve been dealing with shin splints leading up to the race, so that little voice was there too … when is it going to start hurting again?
It was noisy in my head.
But somewhere around the 20km mark, things started to settle. Not perfectly, just enough. I found a rhythm, a pace that felt sustainable.
But then you realise … you’ re only halfway. And suddenly 42km feels very real again.
I didn’ t know if I’ d have enough to carry me through the second half. I just knew I had to keep going and see.
At around 33km, something shifted again. I was sore, properly sore, but mentally I felt stronger. The worst of the route was behind me, and it became less about questioning and more about committing.
Then came kilometre 38 – the Full Send Cheer Zone and iZitebele. What a lift.
It’ s hard to explain what that kind of energy does to you when you’ re that deep in a race. It’ s like someone flicks a switch. Carried, almost. It was exactly what I didn’ t know I needed.
But more than anything, what stayed with me throughout the entire race was the people, the support and encouragement. The disbelief that quickly turns into excitement when people realise what they’ re seeing. It never gets old. It actually catches me off guard every time.
Because yes, I’ m out there doing something a little wild. Rope running through one of the most important races in South Africa, possibly on the brink of Major status. But underneath that, there’ s a deeper reason. Every step, every skip is tied to something that matters far more – raising awareness in the fight against human trafficking, and people feel that.
Crossing the finish line was special. Although, if I’ m honest, I rushed it a bit. I should’ ve slowed down, taken it in, let the moment land. That’ s something I’ ll do differently next time, hopefully in Sydney.
But I finished. And that matters. The medal? Beautiful. Solid.
Deserving of everything this race is becoming. But the real takeaway for me is this: you don’ t have to feel 100 per cent ready to do something big. Sometimes you just show up, hold the rope, and figure it out as you go.
You’ d be surprised what you’ re capable of. I have a rope in my hands. What’ s in yours? Protecting lives, one skip at a time, – The Rope Runner
Some run for medals. Some run for times. Marissa runs( while skipping!) to fight human trafficking – one step, and one life at a time. If you want to join the fight, head to:
www. donorbox. org
https:// donorbox. org / the-rope-runner
https:// drive. google. com / file / d / 1b4XYw5 _ nUDAXoKeIA2hwJqyyZCLA40gB / view? usp = drive _ link
www. modernathlete. co. za 25