Our lives aren’t measured in days but in moments. So don’t wait for them, go out and make them.
A few months ago Mr 5 asked how come I have so many medals and he has only a few. I told him it was because I like to run races. Right there he decided that he will run races too. So when Nico got about entering him and I for the Dodo on Mauritius, I suggested we sign the boys up too. And then we’d have to wait for race day to see if they actually wanted to do it, because heaven knows today and tomorrow are worlds apart when you are 5 or 7! Continue reading “Dodo Trail Mauritius: 2018 Race Recap”
A quick glance at my running logs of the past three years or so and you would guess that I am a regular half-marathoner. Solely considering the mileage I put in most weeks, some would say halfs would be the wiser choice. But instead, I sign up for trail marathons and ultras that involve anything from 2000 m altitude gain. I hear you ask “but… why”?
Why don’t I follow life-consuming marathon training programs or enter shorter, easier races? Well, because life is so much sweeter if you can have your cake and eat it!
Running as a Lifestyle
Running is my drug of choice. I look forward to a run a the end of the day like someone else would to kicking off a pair of heels or cracking a beer. As a mom, my runs are my time to meditate, to recoup, to strategize, to mourn, to celebrate and to dream. It is my time to rest mind and soul and to not have to be responsive to anyone else’s needs.
When Hubby thinks I’m in need of some special pampering (read: a sanity reset)? He treats me to the ultimate, all-inclusive, soul-indulging, mind-relaxing mom-cation: An entry to a mind-blowingly beautiful trail race. And since he knows that Mommy needs loads of time to really recharge, nothing shorter than a technical 42.2 with a time allowance in excess of 7 hrs will do. A half-marathon? It barely gets you beyond the city limits. And by the time you get back everyone is just about ready for the breakfast you’ll be preparing.
But as much as I enjoy and need running, I love hanging out with my family more. And while our kiddos are this young I wouldn’t trade the time I get to spend with them for anything. Not even running.
Biting Off More Than You Can Chew?
The other day one of my Strava friends remarked that he hoped I trained “more” (harder? longer?) for an upcoming marathon than I did for the one before. To his standards my training was clearly not up to par. But then again, our running goals and circumstances are worlds apart.
My Strava friend trains and runs for a podium finish. He wisely follow training programs that build up over six months. Then, afterwards, he takes time off from running to rest mind and body. I, on the other hand, have maintained a virtually consistent running routine for the past several years. I never over-train (on the contrary!) so I don’t need time off from running. I would barely call my preparation for a race “training”. We just do life with a little bit extra towards race day.
Do I get the medal after a race? Usually, yes! Do I finish on the podium? Of course not. Do I enjoy my races? Every single one of them. But have I had to make peace with lots of walk-breaks and hanging with the crowd at the back? You bet. In this way my race photos will usually include a few heavily bandaged runners, severely hung-over runners, a great number of novices and many DNF-fers. In fact, half of my pack usually don’t make the cut-off. And sure enough I have been there too. But no less than a day or two later and I’ll be scouring the web in search of the next beautiful killer.
Time Constraints and Challenges
Being a homeschooling mom of two young boys and wife to a fellow runner that travels extensively for work, my training time is limited. Even with my husband home, our chock-full schedules only allows for 30 to 40 minutes of running on alternating week days and one long run. So, much like most people with busy schedules, I have had to become pretty creative to feed my running needs.
With Hubby away on business trips and the kids alone in my care, I have learned that any run is better than no run. So over the years I have earned the black belt in running repetitive, short laps. Laps around our neighborhood while our littles were sleeping, baby monitor in hand. Even laps of our 80 m driveway. Anything for the fix! And I was grateful for every single one I could complete.
Lately, since moving to the countryside, I have been lucky to have 300 m long, steepish hill right at my back door. And since this is the ultimate all-rounder, one-size-fits-all running workout, I gladly embrace a few weeks of consecutive hill-repeat workouts when I’m on solo kid-duty and can’t head out too far for a longer run.
Adventure racer and Otter African Trail Run director, John Collins, holds a personal best of 04:56:43 on the Otter, which won him a fourth place overall in 2010. Around that time he was sharing child-care duties of a one- and three year-old with his wife, who also happens to love running. For the past few years I have found Collins’ training tips very useful and would recommend it to runners with similar time constraints.
A Solid Base
Collins shares our opinion that marathon-training is hard work while running-for-exercise is fun. He limits focused marathon-training to the four weeks preceding a race, and views his running-for-exercise as preparation for this training. This preparation is, of course, base-building. Without which, a runner would be making himself vulnerable to injury.
Not that base-building should be a bunch of watered-down junk miles . On the contrary. The best and most solid of bases are built by frequently incorporating a few key running workouts. During base-building, Collins incorporates one 30 minute hill session a week and one “longish” run, never longer than 21 km, in addition to a few “normal” exercise runs. In his training tips he doesn’t make mention of pace, hill incline or the duration or distance of a “normal” run, which leaves plenty of scope for adaptation to personal goals and constraints. This is, of course, where the difference between finishing in the top ten (Collins) and or back-of-the-pack (me) comes in.
The Otter African Trail Run is a standard marathon distance race but with a trail factor of 2. This means that the technicality of the course is as such that it will take twice the time to run the Otter than it would to run the same distance on a conventional road running course. The race comprises an altitude gain in excess of 2500 m spread over 11 significant climbs and includes four river crossings. So it’s not your average morning jog!
With a solid base, Collins limits his focused Otter training to these four weeks preceding a race: Week one (four weeks out from the race), the Buildup Week, will include two “longish” runs, two hill sessions and one “normal” exercise run. Week two, the Long Distance week, include three “longish” runs, one hill session and one normal exercise run. Week three, the Hill Week, includes three to four hills session and one “longish” run. Week four (last week before the race), the Race Prep week, will include one to two hill session and one to two easy exercise sessions.
My race photos are usually devoid of Master and Grand Master runners. Not because they don’t participate in these races. Au contraire. But because they often do very well in these races. Michael Brewis, a 70 year old South African, ran his 5th consecutive Otter in 2017. He finished in 08:52:00, more than three hours to cut-off and beating almost half the field in doing so . His friend, John Brimble who is also 70+, finished the race an hour later and still beat a third of the field. And this phenomenon is not unique.
Just like IQ is a measure of intelligence and EQ of emotional dexterity, distance runners can attest to the Suffer Quotient. The SQ relates to pain tolerance and the historical amount of time spent in the realms of pain and exhaustion. A sort of suffer memory, comparable to muscle memory. The more exposure to it, the easier it gets. Not to say that as we become more experienced, older runners we don’t have to train as hard. Of course not. But the more seasoned runners probably don’t shy away from pain and exhaustion as easily as their younger counterparts. Through time and experience these runners have probably gotten to befriend pain and found ways to to cope with it.
In a Nutshell
As we all have different lifestyles, we run for different reasons and approach our training differently. What works for some may be totally wrong for others. But a few trips around the proverbial block may have hardened you well enough to know what you are capable of or not. To know what will (may?) work and what not. But there is no replacement for a good and solid base. And also none for just keeping it real.
The first entry into my Pilot’s logbook was on 16 August 2012. I was exactly 1 month pregnant and yet to find out…
By that time my name had been on a waiting list for a spot at the Flying School for some time, my deposit was paid and the ground school books were sitting on the table. I was ready to learn to fly. Continue reading “About Bumps in Cessnas”
The sun started to rise just before we passed lake Pehoe in the Torres del Pain National Park. It was one of the most beautiful sunrises I have ever witnessed in my life, through probably the dirtiest bus windows ever. Oh the irony! It left me no choice but to take in the beauty rather than to try to photograph it. The soft early light turned the cloudy sky all hues of oranges and pinks, setting off the majestic Paine Cuernos (horns) in the most extravagant way possible. Continue reading “Ultra Fiord 50K Race Report”
“It was #$%^ed up” was the first words by Riana when she came home. It was around 2 am the morning after she finished second in her age group at the 2018 Ultra Fiord 50 km event. “This is more than just a trail run, its pure survival out there”. We are in Patagonia where the forests are dense, the wind wilder and alpine conditions start at 600 m above sea level.
In her mind she pleaded with me not to do my event two days later, but never voiced it. I went on to do 55 km of the 70 km event and endured extreme physical exhaustion, drugged-like hallucinations of snake-type creatures and lurking Lord of the Ring-type trees and of course extreme cold, lashing wind and blinding snow atop some really hard going mountain passes.
Now, after being home for a couple of weeks, I think the immensity of the race, the welcoming nature of the Chilean people and the enormous task of putting an event like this together is probably sinking in. Although both Riana and I need some time to reflect on Patagonia and Ultra Fiord 2018, I look back at those silver lined mountains, the immense beauty of the thick forests, the continuous slogging through the mud and the eery stillness while enduring the night, with a huge sense of achievement. To be able to be part of a race that captivates the human spirit in its rawest form, is something that is hard to explain. A race that epitomises our very existence on this beautiful planet.
This race is not a trail run, it was never meant to be. Patagonia pleads with you in its forests, on its mountain passes and through its mud that clings to your being. It pleads – “share me”. But that’s hard. Its hard to share the immensity of the place with anyone that’s not been there. Hard to share the wind howling in my ears as the snow drift slams into my face. My wooden hands unsure if they are still grasping my last trekking pole after the first broke some way down – somewhere in the mud. The mud. Hard to share the mud. Sinking in to my waist, wondering if my shoes are still on my feet. What to do if a shoe stays behind? Mud that filled my shoes, my socks, my existence. Unending, relentless mud.
Hard to share the feeling that there is no escape in the race. Once you start, you have to endure to the end. Stay mentally and physically strong. On ascending to El Passo (our highest pass) the wind picked up and with it came the snow. Waves of freezing snow drift that whitened the vertical rock-strewn gully. My headlight pierced the damp dark and I forced my fatigued body up towards the probing, bobbing cocoons of headlights far above. Just get up and get down – up and down – up and down I kept repeating to myself. It was late at night, with a very long way to go still. And on the other side of the mountain pass the snow had turned into ice. My second and last trekking pole snapped and I had to slide much of the way down. Slide walk fall, repeat.
At last I reached the snow line and went straight back into the mud. Trees huddled in knee deep mud lined the track. My headlight catches reflections of the route beacons, or is it other runners? Hallucinations set in and I jump when the roots start to move. Sliding from tree to tree without my poles – grasping at branches, at leaves, at anything. How do I share that feeling of being utterly alone, cold and fatigued in some of the remotest parts of the planet. My emotions run wild, I run walk stop sit rest and walk again. Or did I just sleep while sitting? Sharing the moments of this race, the immensity of it all is hard. But needs to be uttered. Patagonia has an inhospitable beauty that needs to be shared.
At last seeing the glowing, floating ball of light on the road. The tent at 55 km. Extreme relief overwhelms me and I know that the only way of sharing this race, the only way of sharing Patagonia is to be grateful for her. Grateful that a place of such beauty and surreal wilderness still exist on our planet. Grateful that I have been able to run, slide and survive Patagonia.
Nico: “The flight date you booked was 14 March 2018, today is 14 April 2018”.
Riana and the boys are standing in the queue with me, they are tired and fed-up from all the rushing and running in-between flights. We are on the Lima airport in Peru, just rushed off a flight out of Patagonia to make the check in for the flight to Iquitos in the heart of the Amazon within northern Peru. We want to reach Iquitos early in the afternoon in order to still make our 3 to 4 hour boat journey on the Amazon River to the Lodge, but now we do not have an airline ticket. It seems I made a mistake on our departure date when buying the tickets online 3 months earlier. Continue reading “The Amazon: On Surviving (Yet Another) Boat Ride”
During the last few days of 2017, as we reflected on year gone by, I crunched a few running numbers just for the sake of interest /being OCD/Virgo/a runnergeek. The stock take was actually sparked when, during a long run in December, I crossed the 1000 km mark for for the year. A whopping one thousand kilometers! On my feet! That is like running from Namibia’s southernmost border, Vioolsdrift, to Otjiwarongo in the north of the country and having some 60 km in spare change! Continue reading “Of the year that was 2017 in running”
Our trip to Canada towards the end of 2016 and into 2017 was mesmerizing. Not only did we start out 2017 with a beautiful 5 km Resolution Run in Vancouver, but the most snow in more than 10 years turned Lynn Valley, our base in North Vancouver, into a winter wonderland.
We are nearing the wide coral shelf that lines the shore, the swell is getting bigger and bigger, the waves more frequent. We are returning home early from the reef around Mnemba atoll where the wind got too strong and the water too choppy for the boys to enjoy the snorkeling. But not before we had the most amazing time swimming with and photographing a pod of 8 dolphins! Continue reading “Zanzibar: On Surviving a Shipwreck and Other Fun Experiences”