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Seren – how’s the hip? I hope the exams haven’t been too taxing!
Caashford – great running – I’m really intrigued to see how you get on at Comrades
Mr K – Loved your blogs about Comrades
Lowrez – I love your commitment to the tapirs. I went to London Zoo this weekend to help the good lady do a risk assessment and I did my best to get a picture with the tapirs but they had no interest in showing their faces!
I'm not planning to jump on a pace bus but if I see one in the second half I will go for it - the atmosphere seems to be a very comrades experience
I have been neck deep with a couple of projects at work so am only coming up for breath now – having completely forgotten how to run and lost all fitness!
Does anybody staying at Belaire Suites fancy dinner on the Thursday?
Mr K - blogs were a great read, I was there myself for the '15 run and it brought it all back.
Temps have hit the 30s this week Chicago, i'm now feeling hideously un prepared for the heat, last two runs have been the worst of the year. Fingers crossed we don't get a repeat of the 2013 oven of an up run.
I'm with Becca on the buses, they were too congested (and a lot of body heat) for me, but many people love them and the extra atmosphere they have. I've always enjoyed being absorbed and spat out by a singing bus
So yes, i ran with the 10 hour bus last year. But didn't run with them from the start. I dd my own thing for the first 30k or so and my plan was to try and catch up with the bus to get me over the difficult bit of Inchanga and Bothas. But once over that patch, the crowds on the side of the road were giving so much energy i decided to try and hang on to the finish. It wasn't until the final 10k or so coming into Durban that i started to struggle and the bus was amazing. I think without having that incentive, there was no way i would have finished under 10 hours. Plus the buzz of running round the stadium at the front was a memory that gives me goosebumps every time i watch it. But i agree with lowrez and coach Parry, i think they do start too quick though.
My rough plan this year is to do my own thing for the first half, see where i am and if a bus comes along then try and stay with it. The addition of a few extra ones may help since there won't be hours difference anymore.
am I the only one that can't open mr k's blog
l have now chosen which trainers and socks to wear. Still undecided on which top. Wanted my pirate top. Must email and see if the logo is ok with comrades organisers. Think someone may have done that some time back but can't remember. I think I'm tapering more than most
> Caashford - some seriously good running going on there
>
> am I the only one that can't open mr k's blog
>
These are the links that worked for me:
http://abloggerstalebymrk.blogspot.ie/2015/06/if-you-really-want-it-you-will-find.html
http://abloggerstalebymrk.blogspot.ie/2016/06/comrades-alarm-bells-going-off.html
Did a local 5k race last night & got my fastest time for the last two years so hopefully that means things aren't quite as bad as I feared. That's probably it now 'til June for me.
I do not feel I have treated it all with enough respect but it's too late now. I will do my best and am very excited. I also don't think my family and friends realise quite what a big thing it is. They just think oh she's always out running / she's done a couple of ironman events.... it's just another race
just in in case that sounds a bit negative it's not meant to. I've just read mr k's blog and all the hill work and extra types of training he'd done!!!
I'm actually feeling very positive. Bring it on
Marty 74: but what if someone has not been in the bus and is speeding up at the end, aiming for a PB and can't get past? I'd definitely not be happy if it happened to me. I suspect I will run my own race but might end up clinging to a bus later in the day.
Going to be strange running a race with so many other runners and so many spectators!
Caashford, great running!
jkissane - sounds like you're on good form.
Mr Zuvai: yes to meeting up for dinner if Terry gets us back at an okay time for you...
I think I'll need to post this in several sections as its warning me its 2696 chars too big in one go; an account what I wrote as a novice in 2015...
I leave the Hilton in high spirits for the start, but my 50-50 choice of “going to the left” as I approach the pens is the mistake that takes me into a temporary un-camaraderie spiral. Picking my way through the crowd there is a tearing sound and pull at my back; I know my rear number has taken a hit. Managing to get to an empty space by the side of the town hall I survey the damage; dangling by one pin and only one other remaining, I pin it corner to corner “temporarily” I think. Where to get more pins? I walk up to the head of the pens and take a left, some activity with runners through a door at the top of some steps, I jog up and am asked for my security band; the international strip does not cut the mustard. “There are runners in there and I need pins for my number can you let me in”? “No”. “Can you go in and get some pins for me”? “No”. I turn and go back down the steps. I turn and go back up the steps…this is Comrades everyone helps everyone else. “I’m asking you to help me; if my number doesn’t stay on I run the risk of being disqualified, those guys must have some pins, can I pop in, or can you go in and get some for me please”? “No, go away”. “Why won’t you help me”? “I can’t go in there”. With time ebbing away I return to the pens. Pen C is obvious, but no Pen CC? I look at the entrance of Pen C; there are Pen G, Pen H, Pen F runners all piling through, no control, no one in charge. I put my hand behind me to keep my number flat to my back and join the crush eventually making it inside Pen C. 15 minutes to go. I switch on my Garmin, it locks satellites almost immediately. I switch off. I stay to the side of the pen moving down with the crush. The unhelpful security guard passes by on the other side of the fence still “doing nothing”. During the national anthem I contemplate that maybe all my problems are being disposed of up front. Shosholoza is amazing and raises my spirits. I switch my Garmin back on and it remains worryingly on the logo screen. I switch off and on again, same result, oh well I can always ask a security guard the time I think wryly.
Cock crows (a Comrades starting tradition) and, BANG! We are away! Garmin still dead, I try to count, 3 minutes post gun and Mr Garmin comes to life; blimey, now I will have to add 3 to everything. I walk very early on, anywhere there is sufficient up slope to make me lean into it. My strategy is preservation, glide along until the 12 hour bus arrives and never let it out of my sight. For the first of many, many times I rest the back of my left hand on my back; it will always produce the calming result “number still there”. The absolute mayhem of table one passes me by as I chomp on my first penny chew and take another swig from my bottle of water. A hairy rotund orc from the set of Lord of the Rings glides up alongside me; “first time eh? Your pace is perfect, stick at it, this is my 3rd, never finished, keep going” and he is gone. I reflect on whether advice from someone who’s never finished is worth anything then a huge grin crosses my face – when has anyone ever given me advice during a run? Never! This is Comrades! As we climb a minor hill a female American drawl cuts through the dim light; “is this Powlaay Shaarts”? It produces some giggles including mine and prompts her to commit the worst faux pas of comedy; she repeats her sure fire line to the echoing empty response of crickets chirping in the early dawn.
I have a few minor things I want to do today despite the lost time; here comes one of them; the throng are taking a left turn on a huge sweeping bend, everyone is cutting in as close as they can on the left; I break and head right to the crowd high fiving everyone to cheers on the outer curve; exhilarating stuff; heart pumping and almost at a sprint I slow rapidly to re-join the throng to words being whispered behind me; “no we’re not doing that we’ll run I don’t know how many extra k’s”. A quite abrupt right turn takes us up, up, up. Not for the last time today I ask if this hill has a name – “Cowies” comes the reply – I break from my pressing walk into a run for a short while – I will repeat this ritual on every named hill; I want to say I ran up every section; not all the way, but some. On Fields Hill AC/DC’s Highway to Hell belts out and I join in the lyrics breaking into another run pointing in the direction of Pietermaritzburg and yelling “I’m on my way to the promised land!” to the bemusement of others around me. Three wonderful girls cruise past me and in a dream like sequence one of them turns to me and offers me some sunblock. I quote the runners bible and respond with “don’t do anything different”…”but thanks for the thought”; they glide away from me like angels hovering above the ground. Did I mention the heat was getting to me? Earlier at around 8 miles a huge alarm bell went off inside my head; you can only pick up on these things from experience; I later read the stats and meet people who had caved in and been swept off to hospital with heat exhaustion. I went ever so slightly giddy and the Garmin told me my pace had been dropping. I needed to cool down, dowsed myself with water, and continued to do this throughout the remainder of the run, later at the three quarter point a runner simply pulled up, staggered to the side of the road and keeled over backwards – blam! He got assistance from the crowd immediately, but it kept me “running an internal diagnostic”, yes I was thinking straight, no those girls weren’t really angels, yes you can run for ever at this pace.
A frisson of fear strikes as I become aware that everyone around me is suddenly moving at a ridiculous pace, an 11 hour bus engulfs me and spits me out, their exhaust plume pushing dust into my eyes. I am shocked at the marathon mark (according to Garmin time)…nothing happens! No cheers, no recognition, I smile to myself at the shockingly slow pace; around five and a half hours; perfection; game on! Pee! Pee! You need to pee! The sensation does not go away; I recall Comrades veteran’s recommendations; do everything on the run; I had not practiced this; portaloo to the rescue! I throw precious time away. Half way goes with 25 minutes before cut-off and the realisation that I have climbed a long way and am in exceedingly good shape but also the nagging doubt that I am heading into no man’s land…what horrors lay out there for me? Another girl offers me a slab of ice, I accept it gratefully. I have been popping ice under my cap whenever the opportunity arose. This is a major berg though. Like junkies we run exchanging ice for a short while until she cruises on ahead bequeathing me the cool rock which lasts nice and long. A line from the giant on the stage from the TV show Twin Peaks hits me “It is happening again; it is happening again…” a not so swift group of people engulf me; this is it; do or die; the 12 hour bus bobbles past me and I up the cruise control, still comfortable, scarily real, surreally silent, I can sense the struggle of people around me; I feel unnervingly fine. Running past a lush field I remark to the person next to me “that corn is as high as an elephant’s eye”; they peer into my eyes like I am a madman; it is my last light hearted quip of the day; I can sense the will of everyone on the road pushing forward; no time for frivolities; reviewing my personal video slice at Lion Park; the “silence” is overwhelming and yet the sheer will power and struggle of the group is louder than anything I have ever heard.
I still feel fine, laughing inside, asking myself “can I run like this all day” and answering “you can run like this for ever my friend”. Pee! Pee! You need to pee! “No I don’t – this is the 12 hour bus – I can’t let it go”. The sensation does not go away. Damn! Inside the portaloo a teaspoon of pure Coke exits. Is that it! I try to relax. Bang! Bang! Bang! On the door baby! “Occupied!” I roar back at the B52s in my panic and laugh out loud as it brings the scene of Homer Simpson snoring on an airline toilet to mind segueing into Pink Floyd’s Run Like Hell; “And the hammers batter down your door. You better run. Run, run, run…” Exiting the loo the expected cross legged person is nowhere to be seen. I spy the 12 hour flag mere metres ahead and I run, run, run… The blister has been forming across my left forefoot for miles now, ever since I scuffed it massively hard on uneven ground. With approximately 7 miles to go the image of the shotgun blasting Robocop’s hand to smithereens goes through my head as the blister bursts in a sparklingly painful explosion and I’m sure I have no toes left. That one step is the worst Comrades will throw at me. I wobble to the left as the strike of the foot collapses but I stay on my feet bracing myself for the next strike which is less of an issue than I expected, we can still do this.
We start up this hill, I run some of it, it doesn’t stop, it gets steep, it gets unimaginably steep “Aha! Little Polly’s” I think, it has no end, yes it does! It has cameras at the top, hmm, the k markers are in single figures…”I just climbed Polly Shortts!” its reputation has overshadowed me so much, I had braced for much worse, this is it! I am over Polly Shortts! The realisation that I will finish is overwhelming, but what is this? So much quad pain now after so much climbing? A sweeping downhill trot with ridiculously large speed bumps for good measure? You are joking? My mind jumps 365 days ahead; if my quads ache like this now what will a down run be like? The obstacle course is soon out of the way and we career on and into the Pietermaritzburg cricket stadium through fleetingly weird enclosed corridors, I am temporarily walled in to confined spaces having been in the clear free open air for so long today, I am steered and guided past cheering crowds into glowing light and a welcoming open array of affirmation. The clock seconds tick away and the joy knowing that I will cross the line 7 minutes inside the 12 hour cut-of is immense. I am astounded as the PA system calls out my name “Roger! Roger! Completing his first Comrades Well done! Well done Roger!” I cross the line and unbelievably, stop, for the first time in almost 12 hours today it is OK to simply stand still! We walk on and I shake the hand of my medal bestower. An aged man in Comrades garb shakes my hand and above the swirling stadium racket asks “Will we see you for next year’s down run?” My reply is easy and emphatic; “Absolutely”!
As a footnote I collected 50,000 Rand for Project Rhino in 2015; 3rd highest charity total in the Race4Charity.
Debra - shoes are weird things. I have bought several all the same size and same make just different colours (have a bit of a trainer fetish) and I hate it when they change them so often. Had 35 miles on one pair but decided to use the other pair. Third time I ran in them my toe bashed against the end for 13 miles and I wore a hole in the socks I thought I'd wear!!
all exam finished and I'm confident there will be no resits to spoil my summer.....
managed to run teh whole parkrun this morning in 29:06...... hip felt ok..... glutes were a bit tight and my lungs really struggled with trying to run ......
so on tuesday i will run a club race but stick at the back and try and run teh 6 miles averaging around 11;30 to 12 min miles (race pace) and see how my lungs feel at that pace
First heat training session done this evening. An hour in the gym to work up a sweat, then 20 mins in the sauna. It might not do any good, but I've had very few warm weather runs this year, so I reckon it's worth a try.
Hi RR. sound like a good thing to try. Warm run for me this morning. Tried my new shoes, the Inov8 Race Ultra 270s, yesterday (90 mins) and today (2.5 hours). Feel very cushioned compared to what I normally run in. Nice wide toe box.
Unfortunately started a sciatic-type pain on my right leg part way through this morning's run. Not what I needed at this stage. Not sure whether or not it was associated with the new shoes - and that's supposed to be my last long run! Rest day tomorrow, then think I will try using them for running to work and back on Tuesday, see what happens. Wednesday I go off to a conference in Berlin until Sunday, so I'm only back in the UK for 3 days before leaving again for South Africa.
And the seal has gone on my Garmin 310xt - fogged after a run in the rain and it's still not un-fogged. I could get a new one for £140.. What others out there have good battery life?
How old is it Debra? Garmin have a pretty good warranty programme although you will have to pay postage as I recall. Failing that I have one I'm not using I can bequeath to you for the going second hand rate which was £50ish I think last time I checked ebay. It is surplus to my requirements since I purchased a Fenix3 which is quite a bit more expensive but I wanted it for that canal run as you can charge it from a battery pack whilst it continues running.
I hope that pain is just a one-off adjustment.
Chester half for me today dressed as a sailor girl. Although no pictures have surfaced yet. I did not spot Slow Duck either (maybe he saw me first
). I got quite a bit of attention including a local newspaper and radio station so I am hoping some good shots surface. I clocked a comfortable 2:10 from a relatively slow start, was shocked to be consistently clocking sub10 miles, something I have not done this year so far, stormed to the finish over the last 3 miles overtaking many struggling and disgruntled runners. Felt very strong and seem to have recovered well, big confidence booster for a fortnight hence.