CHALLENGER STORY it was a hive of activity with people zigzagging past each other as they visited the bathrooms , the cold drink buckets , munched on food , climbed into ice baths . I did not see anyone attempt to sleep .
Paradoxically the laps I seem to remember are those that we ran during the night . As night turned into early morning I was starting to fade and would have considered admitting my mistakes and retiring from the madness . Except that so many participants gave me such encouragement . Among these were Claudette who accompanied and encouraged me when exhaustion forced me back to a walking pace . And there was Illana , referring to me as “ Magic Mike ” and always there with an encouraging phrase . And Patrick with sympathetic comparisons to his efforts the previous year . An inspirational bunch of people if there ever was one .
I did have one pyrrhic victory in that I outlasted my running light . I would have recharged my light in between laps but I was no longer running sub-thirty and did not have enough time . In the end , I borrowed a spare light from Mary .
The lap I remember best is the one that I had blocked out of my mind . Having barely completed 23 laps , I went out for what should have been my victory lap . As I walked out the Italian Club gates I started to feel the first pangs of hunger . I briefly thought of Brian ’ s caution to eat early and often but wasn ’ t too concerned as this was my last lap and should be a breeze , even if it were to walk the entire lap ( ignoring this warning was to be my most fateful mistake ).
From here on everything is a little hazy . I was falling behind before the Motherless Goat joined Penhurst . Somewhere around this time , Jason joined me and was pushing two children in a pram with another young girl walking with him . They walked with me the length of Penhurst and then up Rotherfield Avenue . I know this latter part because I remember Jason offering me support as I was extremely unsteady on my feet . I kept refusing in the firm belief that if I accepted assistance I would be disqualified . My final mistake .
This continued until we were going back up the Goat . I was continuously leaning further backwards and think I would have fallen on a few occasions if it were not for a judicious arm extended by Jason . Eventually , as I could no longer even take baby steps , I pulled my watch from my pocket ( its battery had long since died and it was connected to a USB power block in my other pocket to record my last lap ). Looking at this I saw that I was about 10 minutes overtime ( i . e . disqualified ) and succumbed to Jason ’ s next offer of assistance .
He ejected his two girls from the pram , and I sat in it exactly unlike an elite spartan warrior in his chariot . Further up the hill , we met Wilna , a resident who had been giving me and others encouragement on the last few laps . Between Jason , Wilna and some other gentleman who parked at that point , I was provided with a banana and a can of Coke . By the time we reached the top of the Goat , I was starting to remember what being human felt like and emerged from my chariot to walk , sort of , once again .
We were joined by the two cyclists who had been monitoring the progress of the runners for a few hours at that stage . As we walked ( me barely ) across the last field I saw the line of real runners on the veranda outside the hall and received an undeserved cheer . The last obstacle was the few steps up to that veranda . I was still tilting backwards , but thankfully there were people behind me to assist .
On entering the hall , I was helped to a seat . The most remarkable 24 hours of my life and the most amazing bunch of people . With only one question remaining at the time : WHERE DO I SIGN UP FOR NEXT YEAR ?
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