Comrades 2000 Up Run - June 16, 2000
I recorded the elevations of the whole race on my wristwatch. I wore bib #12926 and started from corral C.
I finally got up at 03:00, after tossing and turning all night and did my full stretching routine, and Tom called at 3:30. We went down for breakfast, which the hotel put on 3 hours early just for the runners. There were lots of people there too, mostly all already in their race garb. I ate cereal, bread, stayed away from the fruit, one sausage and a little scrambled egg. I took an ibuprofen to get it into my system. Then back up to the room to get dressed. I took a pair of dry socks in a baggy. I didn’t think to put my napkins in a baggy. Tom and I walked to the start about 4:30. On the way, we passed some guys coming out of an all night bar on West Street, and they started cheering us because of our USA singlets. They shouted "F%^& the Russians!" We figured that was because Grishine had been quoted in the papers as saying that the Russian contingent was so strong this year that a South African would probably not finish in the gold (top ten). We left our tog bags in the truck and went right to our starting corrals. The start was extremely well organized. People were cautioned to throw their garbage bags all the way to the side of the road, and they did. The Chariots of Fire theme was played, the cock crowed, no one heard the gun go off, and then some Zulu music started. In less than 5 minutes I crossed the start, and as soon as I crossed it I was able to run.
Running through Durban, I remembered Tom’s cautions to be careful of the road, stay in the center, due to it being dark, and potholes, etc. There were people all along the way, even though the sun wasn’t up yet. People along the route, on the overpasses, all cheering. I was fairly caught up in the spectacle, but remembered to run comfortably. At the first aid station there was a small panic by the runners, because the water at the first table was gone. People were angry. They couldn't see that there were 10 or more tables spaced out (because it was still dark) and as we kept running there was plenty to drink at the first aid station.
Somewhere in the first 5K, someone running up behind me asked where I was from. This was when I met my first South African fellow runner, Tiekie Barnard. We chatted for a while, and I noticed she had a green number. This was her 13th run, and she seemed willing to talk, so I kept with her. She shared some advice, and I kept asking questions about the course, etc. After about 10K, she said we’d run far enough together to introduce and we did. She was running for Florida Running Club, from Johannesburg, "the drinking club with a running problem." She introduced me to lots of other people she knew, and we had nice conversations all along. Everyone was extremely kind, and wanted to know if I was enjoying the run, and I was. Very much. After a while I started looking for more Vaseline, and Tiekie gave me some she was carrying in a plastic bag. I asked about porta-cans, and Tiekie had better advice, showing me the choice spots before going up Botha’s hill. I couldn’t have been luckier to get to run along with a green number holder who showed me the ropes.
I was very surprised that we ran all of the first three big hills, Cowies, Fields and Botha’s, and was really happy when Tiekie told me we were about to run through Drummond, which is half way. We ran across the mat at half way in 4:55, and having run all the way so far, I was elated. I did ask if we could please walk up Inchanga, which we did. I mentioned how happy I was to be walking up Inchanga - I think I was overwhelmed with feeling so good so far into the race. At the top of Inchanga, Tiekie said "Okay Greg, our walk is over." And we started running again. We stopped again at about 35K to go, and after fixing socks, etc., I told Tiekie I decided I would put on my dry socks at 30K to go. At that point, I couldn’t stay with her any longer. I had run just a hair faster than I wanted to just to stay with her to that point, but I couldn’t maintain it. She just floated away up the hill.
At 30K to go, the course turned a corner to the right, I think in Cato Ridge, and I spotted some spectators who had some small plastic chairs. I went across the road and asked if I could use their chair to change my socks. That was fine, and I sat down, with some difficulty. When I crossed my leg up to untie the shoe, my hamstring cramped immediately. So those wonderful people, who were having a little fun with the hurting American, not only untied my shoes, they pulled them off, and took my socks off as well. Their little boy gave me some candy he was having and someone offered me a beer. I asked for a rain check on the beer for 6 hours. I got my new, dry socks on, and my shoes back on, and asked if I could have some of their napkins. They were terrific, and gave me a little fun about being a rich American (they think all Americans are rich.)
Back on the run, I started having rough spots here. I would tire of running and walk. I realized that my sugar was probably low, so I started eating everything I could, drinking Coke, until I’d get nauseous and stop eating for a few minutes. Then I would feel better and start running again, but of course it really hurt a lot (in the quads) to start running again. And of course I began the calculations – could I walk the entire way and make it? I had a short panic attack when I calculated that I needed to make 12 minute miles to beat 12 hours and that didn’t seem too possible. Then I re-calculated and realized I only needed 12 minute kilometers and I knew I could walk and do that. But every time I walked for a little while I felt better mentally, and had caught my breath, and decided that I wasn’t there to walk, I was there to run, and as painful as it was, I would start running again. I was cramping a little, but by running (jogging? shuffling?) easy and regular I could avoid it. I started dousing myself at every trough as it was sunny now and hot.
At one point I passed a table of supporters for the Germiston RC, and stopped to ask if they had any sun screen. As they looked for it, they asked me what I wanted to eat and drink, and they fed me. Then they rubbed the sun screen on my shoulders and arms for me. I told them they were great – I wasn’t even in their club, but they helped me. I think I told them I wouldn’t even touch me, but they said they’d done worse already that day.
I was really looking forward to 20 K to go, because that was only 12 miles. Then I got to Little Polly’s, and walked most of it, although I started running when the crest was visible. I really wanted to get to 10K, because I knew Polly Shortts was inside 10K, and I wanted to get up that one in the worst way. It was steep, too. Then I started feeling better mentally. I would walk when I ran out of breath, and then jog again when I caught it. At one point, I was walking through a fairly affluent neighborhood with lots of spectators. One guy said "Come on USA, let’s get going." And he reached out and gave me a (gentle) push from behind, and I started running again. Normally I would have resented that, but it was just what I needed. At 5K to go I knew I was close to making it under 11:00, but I also knew I was completely out of fuel. I decided that since I had 12 hours, there was no point in pushing it to make it under 11:00.
I even walked up the little grade inside the race course before the finish line, but I did run across the finish, 11:00:33 gross, turned and shook hands with the man behind me in the chute. I was very glad to get my card, and my medal and my badge.
I was able to find the international runner’s area, and Tom was there. We got a boy to run for my bag, and I gave him a long sleeved shirt. I went for my shower, which took a while, because everything was cramping now. Feet, calves, hams, quads, and even my diaphragm cramped painfully when I bent over to get undressed. Getting dressed was just as painful. I found a few new spots to grease up before the next run that had never been a problem before. Walking back through the international area to meet Tom I got two sandwiches and a Lion beer. We walked through a scary crowd to find our bus to Durban, which we queued up for and finally got out of there. On the bus, I began to feel really sick, more faint than nauseous but some of both. Tom talked with some runners from Australia all the way back while I put my head between my knees and tried to stay conscious. The bus dropped us off across the street from the hotel. We used the elevator all the way to our room (1 flight up).
After a hot shower, we decided to forget about supper. I ate some chips, cookies and some instant soup from my race packet. Laying down was a real chore, because whenever I took the weight off my legs and feet everything below my waist would cramp. My feet wanted to curl up like bird’s claws. Hamstrings and quadriceps were similar. I tried pushing my feet into the headboard of the bed, but nothing would work. I took another ibuprofen but no sleep would come. After a few hours I must have drifted off.
