Long Tom Again
I think that one of the very first blog entries that I wrote had to do with the Long Tom Marathon last year. As a refresher, the Long Tom is an Ultra (56 km) or Half (21 km) marathon that runs from Sabie to Lydenburg, following the Long Tom Pass: a road that winds through the mountains of Mpumalanga. For the past 3 year, PC SA has been using this marathon as a fund raiser. PCVs run or walk the half-marathon and friends and family from home give donations for us to do so. The money then goes to the Kgwele Le Mollo Fund. Kgwele Le Mollo is raises money to send exceptional but poor rural students to five years of high school at Uplands College in Nelspruit; one of the most prestigious high schools in all of South Africa. Two years ago we sent our first student, and then beginning last January we sent two more. All three students have adjusted and are happy, and are doing very well in their new challenging classes. This year, we plan to send two more students and once again we piggy-backed on the Long Tom Marathon to fundraise. This year was a little different for me though, because I decided to run the marathon.
Now, one thing that you should know about me is that I REALLY dislike running. My sister is the runner in the family, not me! My pure loathing for the sport is not as strong as it once was, but I still do not harbor very kind feelings for it. I walked the marathon last year, but this year I decided to try something new. I figured that if I was going to ask my friends and family to shell out money for this good cause, I might as well do a bit of sacrificing on my part. So, I began training for the marathon (which took place on March 30) back in October. The first few training sessions I was wondering what the hell I was doing… especially since I started my training when summer was just starting, so I was running in +90 degree weather. It really didn’t help when the people in my village would state the obvious and call to me as I was running, “Oh, you are running!” But, I decided to stick to it, grew not to hate running as much, and even started getting up at 5:30AM to do my training, thus avoiding both the heat and the obnoxious questions. Finally, it was race day!
We left for the start of our portion of the trek at 5:30 and got there at 6. Our portion began on the highest peak of the entire course (maybe about 1700 meters) and it was FREEZING! It must have been about 55degrees- a far cry from the 90degrees I was used to running in. As the race didn’t start until 7, we spent an hour huddling together for warmth and jumping up and down to keep our muscles from freezing up. Finally the race started! The first 2 km weren’t bad at all-a gradually sloping downhill. Very nice. Then at 3km we hit our first hill. Not so nice. But, the hill wasn’t so bad, and at the top was our first water station-busy passing out not just water, but chocolates as well. I collected some chocolate at every station, and by 10km I was cursing myself for not brining a bag because I had no more room in my hands for the FREE! chocolate I was accumulating. I digress though. Kilometers 4-6 were not bad, mostly level and gradually downhill. The sun was peaking out of the clouds and I had shed my sweatshirt and was enjoying the scenery, managing to keep a steady pace at about 10km per hour. I was actually enjoying myself as well-much to my surprise. At Km 6 we reached our second hill- barely anything. Km 7 I stopped for a quick bathroom break (they had portable pit-toilets all along the race). Km 9 I hit another hill. This one was torture. It was steep uphill and just kept going! I slowed my running down and now looking back I think I could have walked up that hill faster than I could have run it. The hill finally ended at about Km 11, thank goodness because I desperately needed some water and was wondering what the hell was the matter with me that I decided to run this torture trap. But, that was the last hill and at Km 12, we hit steep downhill running. I love running downhill, and I floored it. I thought I was home-free, no more hills! It was downhill for the next 6 km and I was enjoying myself keeping pace in about 4 minute km. That was until about km 16 when my joints and muscles began to hurt and my adrenalin-rush started to give out. Km 17 started to level off and I slowed down my running to accommodate my aching body. By km 18, only three more to go, I started wanting to die. I was tired and I HURT! I got rather cranky, so it was good that at that time I was running by myself. Km 19 I started chanting a mantra to keep myself moving. At km 20 I changed my mantra from “Keep Moving” to “Almost There” and then… it was all over! I crossed the finish line with a time for 2 hours 18 minutes and spent the next several days nursing my sore muscles and joints. But, I did my part and ran the entire half-marathon. And I am NEVER doing that again!
Now, one thing that you should know about me is that I REALLY dislike running. My sister is the runner in the family, not me! My pure loathing for the sport is not as strong as it once was, but I still do not harbor very kind feelings for it. I walked the marathon last year, but this year I decided to try something new. I figured that if I was going to ask my friends and family to shell out money for this good cause, I might as well do a bit of sacrificing on my part. So, I began training for the marathon (which took place on March 30) back in October. The first few training sessions I was wondering what the hell I was doing… especially since I started my training when summer was just starting, so I was running in +90 degree weather. It really didn’t help when the people in my village would state the obvious and call to me as I was running, “Oh, you are running!” But, I decided to stick to it, grew not to hate running as much, and even started getting up at 5:30AM to do my training, thus avoiding both the heat and the obnoxious questions. Finally, it was race day!
We left for the start of our portion of the trek at 5:30 and got there at 6. Our portion began on the highest peak of the entire course (maybe about 1700 meters) and it was FREEZING! It must have been about 55degrees- a far cry from the 90degrees I was used to running in. As the race didn’t start until 7, we spent an hour huddling together for warmth and jumping up and down to keep our muscles from freezing up. Finally the race started! The first 2 km weren’t bad at all-a gradually sloping downhill. Very nice. Then at 3km we hit our first hill. Not so nice. But, the hill wasn’t so bad, and at the top was our first water station-busy passing out not just water, but chocolates as well. I collected some chocolate at every station, and by 10km I was cursing myself for not brining a bag because I had no more room in my hands for the FREE! chocolate I was accumulating. I digress though. Kilometers 4-6 were not bad, mostly level and gradually downhill. The sun was peaking out of the clouds and I had shed my sweatshirt and was enjoying the scenery, managing to keep a steady pace at about 10km per hour. I was actually enjoying myself as well-much to my surprise. At Km 6 we reached our second hill- barely anything. Km 7 I stopped for a quick bathroom break (they had portable pit-toilets all along the race). Km 9 I hit another hill. This one was torture. It was steep uphill and just kept going! I slowed my running down and now looking back I think I could have walked up that hill faster than I could have run it. The hill finally ended at about Km 11, thank goodness because I desperately needed some water and was wondering what the hell was the matter with me that I decided to run this torture trap. But, that was the last hill and at Km 12, we hit steep downhill running. I love running downhill, and I floored it. I thought I was home-free, no more hills! It was downhill for the next 6 km and I was enjoying myself keeping pace in about 4 minute km. That was until about km 16 when my joints and muscles began to hurt and my adrenalin-rush started to give out. Km 17 started to level off and I slowed down my running to accommodate my aching body. By km 18, only three more to go, I started wanting to die. I was tired and I HURT! I got rather cranky, so it was good that at that time I was running by myself. Km 19 I started chanting a mantra to keep myself moving. At km 20 I changed my mantra from “Keep Moving” to “Almost There” and then… it was all over! I crossed the finish line with a time for 2 hours 18 minutes and spent the next several days nursing my sore muscles and joints. But, I did my part and ran the entire half-marathon. And I am NEVER doing that again!
posted by Brittany at 4:19 AM
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