In my previous blog post, I declared that I was ready to take on the Two Oceans half marathon. I was fit, trained and my head was in the right space.
But life has a funny way of teaching you that you’re never quite in control and so, a day before the race, things started to fall apart…
On Friday morning, just as we were about to call the Uber to taxi us to the airport, I “accidentally” deleted my entire work mailbox. All emails were just gone! I managed to recover them all while boarding the plane emailing the support guy at Host King, but by that stage, I was a wreck.
Two hours later, arriving at Cape Town International airport, First Car Rental declined my rental car booking because it was booked with a cancelled credit card – the one Uber defrauded me with a few weeks ago. FFS man. That took forever to sort out.
Arriving at the apartment we booked via Airbnb, it dawned on us that the owner had taken shall we say “some really great professional pics” of the place and added a beautiful filter on each image. We were disappointed.
My stress levels were peaking… I was weepy and exhausted.
Nothing an early night couldn’t sort out, right?
Arriving at the start of the race, I was semi-confident. I was astonished that a runner standing right in front of me suddenly recognized my name from my blog! OMW! What are the chances with 16 000 other runners in the street? I was close to tears at this point! Highlight number 1.
Then the rain came down. It’s okay, I thought. Nice and cool! (Keep it together Bron.)
At the 7km mark, the wheels (or the Wiehl…LOL) came off. My right ankle started to twinge. I slowly edged forward a few 100 meters and zing, there it was again. I panicked.
Pulling off the road, I rubbed my ankle gently and tightened my laces. The rain clouds were still lingering above me.
The voices inside my head started nattering:
- I’ve never felt this before. Why now? Was it still from the 2017 injury?
- Oh wait, I know why. I’m old now. Yup, turned 44 last week and it’s downhill from here on. Am I a veteran or a grandmaster in running labels?
- What if I can’t finish the race? I’ll die! I’m not mentally strong enough to go through that failure again!
I carried on until out of the blue, a woman stopped to ask if I was okay. No, I’m not okay, my ankle is sore, I cried.
She suggested I stop off at the upcoming Caltex point for strapping but I explained to her quite frantically that if I stopped I’d miss the cut-off. I had to forge ahead. There was no way I was missing cut-off again.
I made my way towards Southern Cross Drive and suddenly I heard her behind me. “Here, I found you a Panado!”
It was music to my ears. What an angel! Now normally I don’t take pain killers during a race but I was desperate. She waved me goodbye and ran on her way. Julie. Or Julia. A lifesaver, so thoughtful and kind. Thank you. Highlight number 2.
The rain started to pour down and I was getting soaked. Oddly enough, my ankle was worse when I walked so I kept
We turned into Rhodes Drive. This is normally the worse part of the race for me. It’s where I usually have zero energy and struggle to carry on. But not this time. I still felt strong. I kept running. I thought wow, Tamryn my Sunday running partner would be so proud of me! Look at me go! Pole to pole! Highlight number 3.
My ankle would twinge every few steps but I knew I had to keep going. My lower grade matric maths had calculated that I had plus minus 10 minutes to cut-off. And so I ran and ran and ran…
3:16. I had made it! I beat the gun! Highlight number 4.
It’s the first time my ankle has given me any hassles since I injured it in 2017. Oddly, a few days after the race, it stopped hurting. Was it race stress? Nerves? In my head? I’ll see how it goes when I run in the next few days.
I’ve now run 7 Two Ocean half marathons. I swore never again. But now, that Blue Number is close. I can see it! And it looks like we run on my birthday next year, the second time that’s happened. A sign, right?
Thanks to all the angels that supported me along the way. Tami Madikoe. Panado Julie. And my sister who ran Gillooly’s Parkrun back home in support of me. XXX