Comrades 2001

Pietermaritzburg to Durban 89,9 km

A phone call the night before the race from Kieran Walsh and Gordon Geddes yields the news that Trevor Thompson will not be starting in the morning. All other runners met by them over the past few days at registration and the Durban expo indicate the runners are fit and ready to go. My usual pre-race anxiety is evident.

My experience is to run the race twice each year. The first run taking place the "night before" when sleep would be welcome alternate. This mind game involves the vivid recall of long forgotten "lows" looming from a legacy of previous race experience. It is a long restless night as the 4:30am alarm is awaited.

Comrades without hesitation can be described as a race superb in its organisation and execution. The usual pre-race tension is heightened by the 2^nd year of a seeded start and the barring of any spectators from the start area. Our 16 OM’s runners are slit over 3 major categories in B’s, D’s and E’s and some in F and H. The seeding has benefits of a smooth start but means some lonely running ahead, the cost of the organisation of the 15188 entrants.

The "Chariots of Fire" played for a full 15 minutes meant it lost some of its adrenaline hype. The 7°C temperature going unnoticed with runners being sandwiched together in a tight pack of some 15 000 runners. The usual banners and balloons indicating to the supporters back home, via live TV coverage, where runners will be starting. The chicken hat runner, the police / salvation army type uniform of another are familiar sights. The gaunt faces and lean bodies testify to rigorous training regimes of those around me. As I finish the 500ml of orange "Power Aid" I spot more than a few novices indicated by the zero on the bottom of their race number. I feel sorry for them as they have no idea what they are letting themselves in for today. Attracted like insects to a neon light of war stories of seasoned Comrades campaigners. They will soon have their own heroic stories to tell that will emanate from the taxing hours and hills ahead.

There is no mistaking the start as the canon fired first time this year. Max Timerborne’s cock crow being the canons prelude. We inch forward with final waves to the TV cameras and the Mayor perched high to the left on the large balcony of the Pietermaritzburg City Hall.

Soon out into the dark taking care to avoid tripping over plastic bottles and plastic refuse bags that have already been discarded by the up-front competitors. It takes just 90 seconds to cross the start line although it will take several kilometres before one can settle into an even running pace. The grave yard on the right hand side of Commercial road, now protected by steel fencing, provides the first stop for several hundred runners taking their first "comfort break". Tombstones have now been spared from this bi-annual early morning watery deluge.

The brain is already running its first diagnostic of the bodies signs of aches and pains. The first little climb automatically triggers the assessment of the condition of legs rested over the last 7 days since Bulawayo. Certainly it is a good feeling to be moving after two agonising days wait in Pietermaritzburg and the last hour whilst I was seated on the tar at the start line.

At the first water point I start the strict discipline of drinking the tart "Power Aid". The first gulp is an instant reminder that it still tastes foul. This water point has only the "Mountain Blue" available and I bristle. The first light of day emerges to greet us with a bite of the fresh dawn air. Thankfully I am still wearing one of the two T Shirts that formed my earlier "runners wear" for the start line parade. The cough and cold that had me in its grip during the last week seems to have arrested. The slow uphill to Polly Shorts is compounded by the narrowing of Wellington Road and runners squeezed into half the road width.

Its gently down the 2km of Polly Shorts that is traditionally run every second year. The humour and banter of the runners around me is refreshing. Some radio disc jockey is inciting runners to gallop up and over little Pollys and the long climb to Lion Park. Here we will be greeted by the first sharp pitched wailing of champion chip mats. Along this climb, at the 7^th water point (14km), I see Shane and Jane Classen and their recognition of me erupts into momentary exuberance . Time split is as predicted. There is no chance of them running alongside the throng as we are still densely packed into the two lane road. I spot sachets of orange "Power Aid" that I hastily grab and have to instantly discard as they are frozen solid. I am hooked into two HAC runners ahead of me (Michelle Hogg and Dennis DuPreez). Out of the cold valley and its time to shed the remaining T Shirt. The last of the cool air and the day looks set to be hot.

We cross through the underpass of Lion Park and taste the first real crowd support since the start. The morning air bears testimony of the Chicken farms ahead. Reminds me of being in Chapman Road near Charlie Trollope's home in Bulawayo. Our training covered all aspects of this race.

We wind our way to Umlaas Road to complete the climb of the last 7km to the races highest point at 824m. Mike Garden with Rob Forfar in tow cruise past me as I find another banana and orange segment to eat. The time split looks good and despite loosing sight of the HAC pair my legs are strong. The next crowd support comes at Camperdown as does running company with Rob Forfar who is running his 7^th Comrades. The boiled potatoes on the approach to the s bend through the shops is welcome sustenance.

We run past the scrap metal yards of Cato Ridge before being joined by cars on the adjacent N3 highway. The legs are starting to feel the miles before we run the "not so flat" Harrison flats. The sun is certainly warming as we loose sight of any shade.

This long featureless section ends with the run past children propped on crutches and in wheel chairs. Their enthusiasm inspires as one can tangibly feel their longing desire to run a fraction of the miles we have already covered.

Bayats store is well within the planned split and again a gaggle of supporters are assembled at this point. I see our blue hi-ace van parked to the right, but see no sign of Sandy, Dad or Corrine. No point searching for them but rather stay focused for the climb up Inchanga. My pace slackens and I am into my first walk. Rob Forfar had already joined Michelle Hogg and Dennis DuPreez up ahead. They run out of sight.

The road ahead is threaded with a colourful bead of runners crawling like a caterpillar around the sharp zigzag slope of the next 2km stretch. The small veld fire on the right billows smoke into more than receptive lungs. So the hidden cough re-emerges from the last few days.

Past the Marathon mark in 3:44 and over the top of Inchanga. A purposeful slow gentle pace down into Drummond and a return to the Pietermaritzburg start altitude. As I go through half way in 4:11 I am encouraged by this being my predicted time. My knees at this stage are remarkably intact and there is little of former years pain.

The "Pick and Pay" side boards line the road and hold an unusually small crowd at bay. They are also subdued by the raising temperatures though it is just past 10:00am..

Another slow walk out of Drummond and up through Alverstone to the next hill – Botha's Hill.

This section commences with the land marks of "Newton’s Seat ", the Wall of Honour and MTN cellphone booths. A runner up front jumps the steel crash barrier to gather wild flowers to place on Newton’s seat. A tradition supposed to bring good fortune for the runner. The seat cut out of the road-side cutting is already filled with flowers denoting this customs popularity.

Another kilometre and its time for the first comfort break. Two Besamax seem appropriate having covered 50 odd kilometre.

As we approach Rob Roy and the hotel one cannot fail to notice the uneven road alignment. This is my first sighting of Charlie Trollope and clearly he is conserving energy by walking all the small inclines.

As we approach Kearsney College and some welcome shade again I am disappointed at seeing half the grand stands empty. This point is normally characterised by noisy animated school boys cheering the runners on. A Saturday run obviously has its drawbacks as possibly the weekly borders have returned home for the weekend.

The strategy of half pace down Botha's Hill again pays dividends. Many inexperienced runners have sped down the slopes of Inchanga and Botha’s Hill to regret the indulgence 20km further on. I grin as I see the practice being repeated again by the majority of those sprinting past me. As we come off the steep slope at the bottom we are greeted by large 8 ft barrier fencing to the left. Thankfully it prevents many in this large crowd crossing the road and out of control runners stumbling into each other. Runners judgement and "braking" mechanisms are sorely impaired by the gruelling down hills and 55km of the course covered so far.

This is my first sighting of Sandy who walks with me for a few meters. This walk will extend up the Winston Park hill. A few jelly babies are my portion before setting off again over a heavily populated crowd support section of the race. They offer much needed moral support inspired by fatigued runners who mindlessly run on. The crowd is certainly well fed and more than a few are imbibing copious amounts of beer and champagne with their braai lunches. Mental discipline precludes us stopping in for some of their generous hospitality.

Again I sight Charlie Trollope this time running with Rob Forfar. We will continue to overtake each other in surge and counter surge running until we run together through Kloof and down Fields Hill.

As Hillcrest approaches we hear that Andrew Kelehe has won the race. As the first South African to do so since 1997 the crowd responds with exuberance. This win will record as the second fastest time (05:25:51) recorded for a down run just behind Bruce Fordyce's record 05:24:07. The R 125 000 1^st prize is his together with a R 55 000 1^st S.A. runner prize. Kelehe was place 2^nd in 1999 but this run inspired by the tragic passing in March of his 18 month old daughter.

It is here I have the first sighting of Gordon Geddes walking. Drenched in water I pat Gordon on the shoulder as I pass and encourage him to run with me. There is no response past a grunt of displeasure.

A few kilometre further I fall in step with Charlie Trollope and Rob Forfar who are using short objective running techniques to run through a low point. We agree "lets run to that next good looking Marshall". The marshals on this stretch of road are young good looking women who cheerfully respond to our thanks.

As I run through Kloof I am just behind the 9 hour bus driven by a male celebrity who appears in the S.A. soap Isidingo. He is cheered by the crowd who certainly recognise him as he runs by. As we move into Village road I again see Sandy and the opportunity to a quick puff from the asthma pump.

We are into Fields Hill and again some gentle running. I loose Charlie Trollope and Rob Forfar at this point and endure the steep road camber and steep slopes to the bottom. We are in direct contact with vehicular traffic and I am keeping pace with Sandy and family in our blue Hi-Ace.

We bottom out into the Main road of Pine Town. It was at this point that Dipak had collapsed, news I would only glean on 25 June. Morgan Jones having witnessed Dipak disorientated running behind the spectators and then collapsing. The response was immediate and medics rallies to his aid. For now the flat street stretches out for a few kilometres to the bottom of Cowies hill. I glimpse Charlie one last time on this stretch of the coarse.

The incline up Cowies Hill is narrowed by a large cheering crowd. It is on this ascent that I stroll past a TV camera and a queue of runners awaiting their turn to appear on National TV. Pencil Nyoni is lured into this trap. I press on up the slope knowing I will not need the services of the green "porta loo" at its summit. (This was my experience in 1999 and the inside of these toilets was indescribable).

I descend the tree lined road before emerging back onto the main M13 highway. Haj Hajat from H.A.C. passes meat this point as does Pencil Nyoni. The next section through Westville is extremely slow and I am finding I am also walking the down hills. This is my final encounter with Sandy who with Dad and Corrine are drinking a warm cuppa. Tea. No tea only coffee. Disappointed I soldier on on a regime of 3 jelly babies.

Each mouthful of water tastes awful. The preservative is too strong and I again spit it all out. I know I am probably not drinking enough now for a warm day inspite of taking long walks. It is reported as 26°C in the shade yet this latter 14km of the route is in bright sunshine. The Durban humidity adds to the discomfort. I have a steady stream of runners also engaged in a sedentary walk.

Finally I approach 45^th cutting again characterised by large crowds restricting the road to a meter few meters. I pass through the claustrophobic tunnel of people who are frenzied by the loud music and commentary from an exceptionally loud P.A. system. Surfacing over the crest of the hill I limp down to Mayville where we cross the pen-ultimate champion chip timer mats. This will be the final timing split until the finish. Several Imperial car Rental vans are parked here obviously awaiting their prey when the 10:30 hour cut off strikes.

I crawl up the off ramp and once on the N3 highway run past Rob Forfar who does not join me. Its just 6,5 km to go. As I approach the tollgate I know it is going to be a 5,5km walk to the finish line. Even the troupe of young gymnastic dancing girls at this point do not revive my spirits. Again I skip the water point as has been my custom for the last 8 kilometres. With just 3km to go I start to wretch. This is a first and not part of my usual Comrades repertoire. A few hundred metres and I and will cross the flyover. The taxi rank below looks busy. I again mark the tar with the remains of my stomach contents.

I view a runner lying on the grass the other side of the steel crash rail. Will anybody find him here ? He is motionless and I fear for his safety.

Its is 2km to go and I am well along the flat section on Pine Street. Adriaan Verhagen of H.A.C. appears and says "lets run in together for GSE" (he was a member of my GSE team to California in April/May 2000). I veer to the right hand side of the road and continue spewing over the tar. Next Rob Forfar appears and after a brief check on my condition runs on. Gordon Geddes passes me without noticing with 1km to go. His fixed forward stare has him focused on an imaginary hare. He arrives in the Stadium a full 5 minutes ahead of me.

I finally arrive at the finish line and stumble through the crowd clutching my 9^th medal ( 09:49 hour finish). The Foreign Competitors tent looms and a welcome lie down. Gordon Geddes on my right is semi prone armed with a cup of soup. I am furnished with a welcome space blanket that adds some warmth. I have already shed my running vest and donned a tracksuit top. A cup of tea arrives at the same point that my vomiting returns. Gordon claims I was only trying to refill his soup cup. A paper bag appears soon afterwards as does 4 energetic stretcher bearers. Hey hoe and off to the medical tent I go fighting through uncooperative crowds. The medical tent will fill the next 2 hours.

The medical facility is filled with groaning runners, and barked commands from innumerable doctors and nursing staff. Two runners fairly near me receive what looks like serious medical attention. Electrostatic paddles, oxygen and drips are their diet. One male runner is certainly in labour having a baby. A condition I believe heightened by the drip fluids as they take toxins out of the blood via excruciating kidney pain. I fortunately am spared this experience. A quick blood test shows an immediate blood sugar reading of 6,2 that I am counselled as normal. Another 20ml is taken for a battery of blood tests whose results are scrutinised without comment. I am amazed that the blood results find their way back to my stretcher bed numbered 39.

All beds are full and the talk is "they are dropping like flies" at the finish. The tent is positioned behind the grandstand so the crescendo of crowd support as 11 hours approaches is masked completely.

The young good looking women I think are designed to help your recovery. Pity their first attempt at infusing a reviving drip tissued. The only benefit being a right biceps that would match that of a WWF wrestler. This medical staff are to be commended. I learn they have worked for 4 hours and are predicting another three hours before the day is out. Technology supports their efforts as two-way radios keep pace with dire emergencies. Ambulance crews arrive and take bodies out into the dark. I discover the only "pass out" is a compulsory trip to the loo. With half the 3% dextrose solution in my right biceps I take the full drip, before rising to awkwardly walk to the adjacent toilets. Bingo the bladder did see some of the dextrose solution after all. It has taken an age.

Sharon Tiernay is seen limping out of the exit to the tent. A quick conversation with her reveals her obvious disappointed not to no have finished. The retirees being Dipak Naik leaving the course at Pine Town and straight to hospital, Mike Clark retiring after some 80km having run with a cracked elbow. Sharon Tiernay and Ann Walder had endured 82km before retiring. Mandy Beveridge having missed the half-way cut of 5 hours 45 minutes. Poor Trevor Thompson having spent the last two days in bed was wise not to start the race.

I leave the medical tent at 6:30pm and see the final few minutes of the French vs Boks rugby on the big stadium screen. The stadium is abandoned except for anxious relatives a few Comrades officials and lines of "space blanket" bodies still lining the outside of the medical facility.

It takes a further hour to locate our two novice runners (Clements and Jethro) that sees us depart Durban at 7:30pm headed for Pietermaritzburg. The day closes with dropping Gordon, then Pencil, Clements and Jethro at their overnight accommodation. Soup is very welcome after a warm bath. We take a call from Vimal Naik looking for news of Dipak. We can only point him to Gordon’s contact number. It is now 9:30pm and the end of a long day.

A full 28 hours later we learn of Dipak’s passing in ICU at St Augustines hospital. We receive this news via a cellphone conversation between Gordon and Jenny as we travel through Gwanda after 13 hours on the road. The shock and disbelief lingers well past the next 7 days. Many of the runners attend Dipaks funeral on Tuesday afternoon. We all struggle with a fresh dimension to the race that we have not had to deal with before. The sweat and struggle through many early morning training sessions together has bonded us far closer than could be imagined.

The 2001 Comrades run will remain a memory for a lifetime. Why we attempt this race is still a question without adequate response.

The memory of this years run will linger long after the aching muscles and joints have healed.