Sunday 28th August 2022
Today was a very unusual day in August because of the Comrades marathon. This 90km long race is usually run before the South African winter kicks in in early June. But post covid everything is different and today the race kicked off and I was on the other side of the equator. Thankfully the internet makes it easy to track my friends and watch it online. But this did provide a dilemma.
I wasn't fully present here. I kept my phone on all day, watching without commentary, hoping to catch a glimpse of people I know. Checking the tracking app for progress. It's more nerve wracking not running it than actually being out there on the road.
What makes the day so special is not the extra long distance with pain, sweat and tears but rather the laughter, stranger's smiles; applause and cheers all willing the runners onwards. To me, I have always said that that day is the feeling of Ubuntu. A Zulu philosophy of 'I am because you are' embracing compassion and humanity.
I've been fortunate enough to work on the TV production, support sister on it, run it, bail on it, support my club on it, support my friends on it and watch it from afar. It's a strange kind of envy that comes across a Comrades medalist who is not participating. It makes no logical sense to be sitting 6000miles away and wishing I was doing it when 5km feels like a huge ask. But the envy remains.
My dear friend bailed today around 57km. I'm immensely proud of her but I also know that she will be hard on herself for not doing whatever she thinks she needs to do. But she got there. After 2 very long mixed up, confusing years when any long distance training was interrupted, training groups disbanded and races cancelled. She could have been like me and put the goal aside but she decided to go for it. The 90km on the day is not really what makes it so difficult. It's the 6 months of dedicated training beforehand and trying to fit in life around it ( because usually running comes first haha) That's why us runners respect each and everyone of those thousands of people at the starting line. Each of them have their stories, jobs, family, pain and heartaches to juggle to get there, and they made it.
Over 1000 international runners pay huge money to get here, enter, hire hotels and face jet lag just to run on our piece of the planet. The race is special, I would say sacred almost. There's nothing else like it.
On my side of the equator, my brother in law made a barbecue. Hamburgers, sausages and steak, which made the dogs a little busy. It was yummy. My family were around me and my running family in my hand on my phone. I hope I wasn't too rude.
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