Vic Clapham Victory!

4 days later, my body tires. Lack of sleep, the build up, and almost 12 hours on the road is catching up with me. Yet I still have a smile in my heart. I collected my first Comrades Marathon medal in Sahara Stadium on a perfect evening, and I am still wearing it. I am savouring this medal, this victory, because 2008, my novice year, I didn't make it on time. I am not sure if every novice runner feels this proud, or feels this invincible, I like to think that it is only me, because I had to wait a year, and go back to get it.Two years I have been through all this training, and all these feelings, through life's up and downs, and now my success is measured with one small Vic Clapham medal

2008, saw a rather haphazard commitment to my running. Perhaps it was a certain numbness over my sister dying from breast cancer the October before, or perhaps it was just a fear that I may not be able to do the 87km's, I'm not sure. But I went into my novice Comrades feeling excited, and finished my attempt in the suburbs of Pietermaritsburg in awe of what I had just achieved. I was also now in awe of the physical challenge that I had just accomplished. So although I received no medal, I had had a fantastic day. I at that stage was still unsure whether I would be back again, and even less sure, whether I could indeed do it in the allotted time. But after a few weeks rest, and my mind still reeling from the experience of the indescribable day, I decided to come back and test myself properly. I planned my training differently, and this time I really heard all the advice I was given. I was also fully committed to the challenge.

November 2008. I was going to qualify on the Soweto Marathon. The race of the people. I was geared up, and ready. I wanted to get the qualifying out of the way, so I could really focus on training without that extra stress. That day, my life changed forever. One of our dear running friends, and mentor's, dropped down dead beside us, just after the 32km marker. Without a complaint, sound or signal, he was gone. We did what we could, we waited for the ambulance, we prayed, we panicked, but he left this earth doing what he loved doing, running, and helping us get our qualifier. Needless to say, we never made our qualifier that day, and for a short time, we looked at our running future, but Jo would have wanted us to continue, and for me to feel that accomplishment of finishing the 'big' race, he so dearly loved. So we ran.

And ran. My training improved, my times sped up, and I relaxed. I really began to enjoy this hobby of running, and after a comfortable qualifier in Sasolburg, I gleefully entered Comrades 2009. I had fun on the roads, and enjoyed the people I ran with, and appreciated my body. All too soon May 24 arrived, yet sometimes it felt like it wasn't coming soon enough. I stood in the dark shadows of Pietermaritsburg's City Hall, that was cheerfully lit up with the TV lights and smiled inwards. I was here again. This time there was a certain edge to the possibility that I might not make it again, after all, it is even longer than last year's. But I felt excited at the prospect of receiving all the awesome support along the road, and that is the real reason why I was doing it again. Moving gently towards the start line and taking over 5 minutes to get there, didn't make me panic like last year. I was aware that it could feel so long before we were able to get going. I was also very cautious about the debris on the road, as well as cat's eye's and traffic islands, as last year I had taken a tumble just outside Berea, and I didn't want any excuses this year. My mielie pap for breakfast now a distant memory I felt a tiny hunger rumble before we started to run, so I started early with my jelly bean snacks. We left Pietermaritsburg and the crowds began to thin, we were on our way!I realised that I would be running from sunrise to sunset, so I knew not to panic about speed or pacing early on in the day, so I just admired the welcoming sunrise and listened to the chit chat all around me. After attending a Roadshow talk, it had been comforting to hear the legendary Bruce Fordyce tell everyone to 'hold back' and enjoy the day, and I fully intended to do so.I spoke to all the blue number foreigners visiting our shores, and heard their stories about running, and I paid attention to all the surroundings. Last time, I missed Arthur's Seat as well as the Wall of Remembrance, so I was determined to see it all this year. I did. And more. Dogs and their owners out for hours on end at the sides of the road, giving me a bark of encouragement. Kids, grannies, husbands, cousins, everyone in KZN gets behind this landmark event, and I really really appreciate it. Music dotted along the route told us a little about the owners, from Gospel, to rock, to country, to hip hop, and even some sakkie sakkie thrown in, it all made up for one huge party, even if it was much longer than what I am used to!
Cut off points this year was also far less stressful, and when people shout 'hurry only half an hour till cut off' I almost laughed, because now I really know how far I can go in half an hour. Passing loved ones and supporters at halfway, I was feeling fabulous. A niggle in my knee, but otherwise nothing I couldn't handle, we continued our long journey to Durban in the dusk. The weather played along magnificently, and it felt far cooler than last year, even though it was 3 weeks earlier in the year. At around 29 km to go, my friend and I decided to stay with Vlam Pieterse from Hartebeespoort who was driving the sub 12 hour bus. I had seen him in action, and I knew that if anyone could get us there on time it would be him. I had heard dreadful stories of the downhills, and thought that I could benefit from his experience in getting down them. I was so right. Entering Pinetown I realised that we must have just come down Field's hill, and I felt great. Vlam knows his stuff! Unfortunately there were a few water points without water, and after the third one, it must have started playing with my brain. My friend saw this and asked after me, luckily spectators were very obliging and dished out their supplies to us. Finally we reached a water point with water, and a hose, and the spray on my face shook me up, and my head cleared.
Just after Westville, the crowd really intensified, and families cheered us on. People lined on both sides of the road, making me feel really special. An ordinary person being celebrated in an extra-ordinary way by thousands of people. This is what I experience on Comrades, and this is what is likely to bring me back!
Durban showed itself to us, and I started to really feel giddy with excitement. I was going to do it! Slowing down with the bus, as we picked up stragglers, the morale boosted. So, so soon, we would be turning in towards that stadium. Vlam kept some lagging spirits up, by chanting a few songs or making us take a deep breath, and raise our hands, which always stirred the spectators. We fed off their energy, and would trickle onwards, inching closer and closer. The entrance to the stadium buzzed with applause. Perhaps it was just my head? I grabbed my friends hand and we shrieked the whole 300 meteres round the stadium, and when we weren't shrieking, we grinned. Spotting hubby in the crowd brought another yoop of delight as well as tears to my eyes. We had spared them last year's worry of where we were. We made it in with 10 minutes to spare. I got my medal and gave the medal bearer a hug, like the people before me. She must have been drenched with sweat from others, but never complained, instead she smiled and hugged back.

A small medal, a long way, a fabulous journey.
2009 - that medal is now mine!
Cathie van Rooyen Age 42