And legs. And mind, body and spirit. Just whisper “Kowies, Fields, Bothas, Inchanga or Polly Shortts” in the company of kindred spirits and they will pause to consider the possibilities. And their own outcomes. Ask about Sir Arthur. Or the kids at the Ethembeni School. Casually mention Drummond, Cato Ridge or Camper Down. Hum a bit of Shosholoza. Then ask if they shed a tear during Chariots of Fire. Notice how they tend to drop everything and start running when a roaster crows?
I was fortunate enough to be one of the 13K+ finishers of the Comrades Marathon this year. Over 17K started running in Durban but we lost a few along the 87 km climb to Pietermaritzburg. That’s 54 miles for those that speak American. And yes, there’s poetry here, as I turned 54 in January.
Words to describer the 11 hours 19 minutes and 55 seconds I spent en route fail to capture and honor the experience. You must live through it to appreciate it. Participation is required. You must accept the challenge with full knowledge of what comes with the territory. At some point everyone that toes the starting line will be stripped bare and exposed for all to see. And at that point you alone must make your decision. Take full responsibility. Absolute commitment is required. Either settle or go for glory. Beauty lies in the comfort of knowing that the consequences of the decision are yours and yours alone. Honestly, it doesn’t get any better.
On June 3rd I figured one and done. On June 4th I felt invincible. And on June 5th I realized what goes up must come down:)
Onward->
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