Category Archives: My Memories

What happened in the week of April 11th?

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I was born during the month of April. The 11th of April to be exact. A couple of years ago, I noticed that ‘things’ happened on or around my birthday. Things that I would later in life remember about my birthday week. These are some that I remember most…

The assassination of Chris Hani – 10th April 1993: I was at the Rand Easter Show with friends the day before my birthday. Two of my friends were soldiers on a break from the army and were called to come back to service that day when the shocking news of Chris Hani’s assassination broke. The next day, my birthday was spent indoors listening to the news.

Hansie Cronje lied – 11th April 2000: On this day, Hansie Cronje was sacked as SA’s national cricket captain after confessing that he had not been “entirely honest” about match fixing. Hansie was my hero and my heart was broken! Watching him during the King Commission was even more difficult. I have never really enjoyed cricket since then and was saddened by his death two years later.

Ellis Park Stadium disaster – 11th April 2001: KK and I had just returned home from a birthday supper and I happened to switch on the TV. What I saw was ghastly as dead bodies were being laid out on the grass of the Ellis Park Stadium after a local soccer match between Kaiser Chiefs and Orlando Pirates. 43 supporters were crushed to death that day.

But it hasn’t always been bad memories….

My first Two Oceans Half Marathon – 11th April 2009: Such a special memory that is carved in my heart! The organizers made me feel extra special by surprising me with a Puma rucksack when I collected my race pack as well as printing my name in the Two Oceans magazine. But what made this race even more memorable is that after a break of 20 years, my dad ran the race too! I was so proud!

Can you remember anything special or memorable that happened on your birthday?

The topic runners DON’T talk about

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If there’s one thing runners like to do, it’s talk about running. Our PB’s, our running kits, our races, even our niggles and pains. But there’s one topic we never talk about: Portaloos! The ironic thing is that I’m sure we all have our horror stories to tell…

Here are my top 3 portaloo experiences I’m trying to forget:

1. Two Oceans 2011. We had parked the car and I spotted a lonely portaloo standing near to where we had parked. Bonus! I would not need to queue! There wasn’t much light as it was still chilly and dark and I ran in first. The smell hit me. It was putrid! I could hardly breathe. But in my haste, I was already seated and had to get the ‘job’ done. It was only after we had finished the race and made our way back to the car that I saw that the portaloo that I had used was in fact not one for the race but one used by builders on site. In the daylight, I realised just how filthy it was. It looked as if it had stood there for weeks. *no words*

2. Om-Die-Dam 2011. At the 18km mark of the half marathon, I desperately needed the loo so I hopped in to one of the portaloos at the water point. After finishing up, I could not open the door. It was wedged closed and the lock would not open. I pushed and pulled, starting to get quite frantic. I was eventually able to pull it open, but it cut my finger which started to bleed. Without thinking, I put my finger in my mouth to soothe and suck it only to realise a split second later that my hand was most probably full of disgusting germs and I was doomed to get sick. I remember busting out crying.

3. Remax 2012. Sitting on the loo, I thought I’d send a quick early morning tweet to wish my fellow runners good luck with their races (this is not the time to judge me!). I had forgotten to lock the door and a runner pulled the door open, saw me, but then walked off, not closing the door. Here I sat, fully exposed, on the loo, pants down, with my phone in my hand in full view of the queue of runners. I had to then gracefully, stand up, and lean forward to grab the door to close it. I wanted to die. I think a part of me did…

It’s funny that after chatting to marathon runner @tanyakovarsky, I realised that I’m not alone in hating portaloos. In fact, after running x9 Comrades races and recently becoming a Two Oceans 56km blue number, she still hates them and has even shared some of her tips of avoiding the dreaded portaloos with me which I plan to use on my future runs.

Tip number one: Don’t use the portaloo unless it’s a matter of life or death!

City girls don’t belong on horses

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I guess I’m like most girls who grew up mesmerised by movies such as The Horse Whisperer where the gorgeous Robert Redford, who plays the title role of a talented trainer with a remarkable gift for understanding horses, is hired to help an injured teenage girl and her horse back to health following a tragic accident.

So when KK surprised me with a guided horse ride along the beautiful Noordhoek beach, I was thrilled!

Having never ridden a horse before in my life, I was incredibly nervous. KK and I were joined by two other girls and we all got kitted out in helmets and shoes before being given a brief lesson by our guide. Then the horses came out…

My horse was a magnificent dark brown stallion called Raka. It was roughly 1.4 meters to his back and his legs were massive and strong.

Off we went, first taking the streets to get to the wetlands which would take us to the beach. The sound of the horses’ hooves trotting on the tar was spell-binding. It was even more stunning when we got to the beach and hearing the horses wading through the waves.

This is unfortunately where my fairy tale ends…

About 90 minutes into our ride, Raka started becoming restless and I was struggling to hold him. He just wanted to go! On a couple of occasions, the guide had to shout out, “pull the reigns!” but to no avail as Raka wanted more. As a safety measure, the guide held on to my reigns because she feared that Raka would gallop off. I was relieved because I could feel that he was not happy and it was as if a rubber band was being stretched under me, ready to let go!

The problem started when we got to the wetlands and the path was not big enough for two horses to walk side by side. She had to let him go. Within minutes, he jumped away and without warning, threw me off! (KK’s version of the story is that I fell off but I’m going with my version).

I got the fright of my life! I jumped up so quickly and luckily, was unhurt (yet). The trainer managed to catch Raka and calm him down a tad, but recommended that we swop horses. Great idea.

I woke up the next day and felt like a truck had hit me. Ouch, my body ached!

I still love horses. I am still fascinated by them. I would even go as far as recommend the same horse ride on the beach because it was so beautiful. The experience was a ‘wow’ moment in my life. Noordhoek beach is absolutely breath-taking.

But as for horse riding, this might have been my last ride on a horse for a very long time. I think I’ll go back to day-dreaming about them… and about Robert Redford of course. 😉

Remembering Valentine’s Night Race 2008

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On Friday night I was trawling through my Twitter timeline and started to see tweets from people who had just finished the Randburg Harriers Valentine’s Night race.

I was suddenly overwhelmed with such emotion as I remembered the race that got me hooked onto running 4 years ago.

I remember that night like it was yesterday. The hot afternoon when we arrived at Randburg Harriers, sitting on the grass with friends watching the field fill up, walking to the start, the sun setting as the gun went off, the funny costumes people were wearing, the streets getting dark and then the final 300m when KK and other friends stood waiting for me as I neared the finish line. (I also recall the KFC burger on the way home!)

My time: 87 minutes!

Reflecting on the race has made me realise something…

I have spent the last couple of years obsessing about my running pace and the fact that I run so slowly. I have even gotten to the point where I have hated races and dreaded running just because my pace is so slow. I started a blog to document how slow I run!

Yet, on that night 4 years ago, nothing could take away that feeling of immense pride and self-accomplishment that I felt. I was on top of the world and felt incredible. Victorious. After completing that race, I felt as if I could conquer the world! But look at my time! Did I care? Not a chance!

So what happened?

How and where did I lose my passion and love? Where did this obsession come from?

I know the answer: Two Oceans 2010. Missing that 3 hour cut-off broke my spirit. I felt like a failure and since then I’ve been on a mission to ensure it never happens again.  In a way, it’s become the focus of my running and I’ve lost a bit of that passion that fuelled me that night. Yes, so I did go back and conquer Oceans, but the stress of it all still overshadows the victory.

These past couple of weeks, I’ve started to relook my priorities and decide what’s important. I’ve been doing some soul searching to understand exactly why I run, why I am so hard on myself and what I enjoy about running.  

Because right now, I’m not sure if what I’m focussing on is right. It sure as hell doesn’t feel as good as it did finishing Valentine’s Night race 4 years ago…