The Ultimate Human Race

Jo R.

South Africa’s Comrades Marathon described as “The Ultimate Human Race” is the world’s oldest ultra-marathon and is famous for its relentless, punishing terrain. Named by founder Vic Clapham in 1921, the course honors soldiers who fought in the First World War and celebrates the comradery runners share when completing the distance. The course alternates each year between the cities of Durban to Pietermaritzburg. On even years the “down” course is 89km beginning in Pietermaritzburg and on odd years the “up” course is 85km starting in Durban. Last fall I signed up for the Comrades down run seeking adventure. Feeling intimidated by the distance, I did not study the course or train much beyond the New York Flyer’s Marathon Training Program (MTP), coached by Brain Rossetti.

Comrades down run elevation profile. Many smaller hills the size of Central Park’s Harlem Hill or more are not represented. The last 10K is brutal and hard to run as the legs are in pain from hours of down-hill running.

            The morning of the race we boarded a bus at 3:30am in Durban and drove to the start in Pietermaritzburg. During the hour long drive I was amazed at the distance and steep rolling elevation that covers 1,800 feet during the event. The race began in front of City Hall in Pietermaritzburg at 5:30am and we were off. The course was slow and congested during the first few miles. Comrades is the largest running event in South Africa and over 20,000 runners participated. As the sun rose over Umlaas, the first of “The Big Five” Comrades hills I caught up with the sub-10-hour bus pace group and decided to run with them for as long as I could. The day before I spoke with Comrades Head Coach Lindsey Parry at the race expo who predicts your Comrades time to be two and a half times your marathon finishing time. Parry said I was capable of running a 9:30 Comrades off my 3:44 Chicago Marathon finishing time. However, as this was my first Comrades expectations weren’t high. The only goal was to finish.

Descending Umlass Road the first of “The Big Five” Comrades hills as the sun rises early in the race.      

Running with the sub-10-hour bus paced by Coach Linda, the group ran briskly maintaining an even 10:28 pace and stopping to walk for one minute every 10K. During the first part of the race the pace was easy and I felt strong. However, after running 50K my energy began to slow and I became scared of losing pace with the group and not being able to make the 12-hour timing cut-off. We ran through aid stations which was stressful as I struggled to grab water, salted oranges, or backed potatoes to eat and maintain pace with the group. I was so afraid of losing the group that I did not make a rest stop for 35 miles. There was an unspoken comradery with our group as we passed satchels of water to each other. I handed Linda cookies and asked if he needed food. One woman who wore a Comrades green number for having run over 10 races provided never-ending encouragement. She explained we were all Comrades helping each other through this race, Coach Linda was our leader, and that he needed us to run behind him and we needed his guidance. We ran together over the hills and helped each other through adversity as the miles went on. As the race progressed I felt more comfortable running a few paces in front of Linda, which mentally provided a bit of a cushion, being a few steps ahead. With 19 km to go Linda said we would “go at our own pace” after the 14k mark and the group began to slow down. At that point running was all mental and we were very fatigued from the constant hills and strong sun. At one point we ran for kilometers down a curved section of the highway at a 45-degree angle.

Running with the Sub 10:00 bus pace group and Coach Linda. Linda is wearing a Comrades green number race bib that indicates he’s successfully completed ten races and the number 50 to signal his age. My race bib is blue, the color for international runners.

            During this part of the race I dug deep and remembered the two NYRR NYC 60K ultra-marathons I’d completed. The first 60K, which I’d run without proper fueling and struggled to finish, you can read about on the Flyers Blog by clicking HERE.  From this experience I knew that once I started walking the race was over, as my body would feel pain and I would move very slowly. Finishing miles 42-50 was a struggle and I kept trying to calculate how long I would have until I was “safe” and could complete Comrades by walking if needed. Finally, during the last 10k we encountered Cowie’s Hill, the last of “The Big Five” set of Comrades hills. The group continued running but I had to stop and walk losing pace with Linda. My quads were on fire from the downhills and it hurt to run. I was in such pain that when I finally stopped to heed nature’s call after running 35 miles without a rest stop I could not squat down. At that point finishing was the only option. I walked/ran the remaining steep hills- that felt never-ending as there were 4 or 5 during the final 10k. As I ran towards the 4km maker I asked a passer-by what time it was. He replied 3:06 and at last I felt relief knowing I would finish. As it was too painful to run I did my best to power-walk, running once inside Sahara Stadium and finished in 10:06:20.

At the finish in Sahara Stadium with my Bronze Medal after finishing Comrades in 10:06:20

            Comrades was one of the toughest experiences of my life. It was terrifying. The course is brutal. But the race is an amazing transformative experience. I’m so impressed by the brave, kind sprit of the people of South Africa. The scope and power of Comrades dwarfs any other running event. There really is nothing else like it. After the race I ran into Comrades legend and 9-time winner Bruce Fordyce at The Big Easy restaurant in the Hilton Hotel. He grinned and said “10:06 for your first Comrades! We’ll you have to come back next year and get your double medal.”

Comrades Bronze Medal awarded to 9:00-10:59 hour finishers.

Some tips on training for Comrades:

Train for a marathon but then add two long runs together to mimic the distance of Comrades. For example, run 13 miles on one day and then 26 the next. For my training I completed MTP and then added an additional brunched run of 10 one day and 20 the next, three weeks before the race. In January I completed the Walt Disney World Marathon Dopey Challenge: a 5K, 10K, half marathon, and full marathon over four days- great Comrades training. To read about my adventures as posted in the Flyers Blog, please click HERE.

Run an ultra-marathon the season before running Comrades as the longer distance will help with endurance. Last November I ran the NYRR NYC 60k in 5:50:58, a great experience to practice fueling, test stamina, and develop mental toughness.

Be fresh for Comrades. Comrades Head Coach Lindsey Parry has stated you can’t run a marathon hard before Comrades and that’s true. The body has to be completely fresh to complete the 56-mile distance. At the end of April, I switched from running the Illinois Marathon in heavy rain and decided to complete the half instead. Good decision. You can’t have a cold or any muscle strains or injuries going into Comrades. If you do run a marathon before Comrades, it should be done at an easy pace. Researching Comrades I read a blog post by someone who said they ran a 50 miler leading up to the race and that ended up hurting them as their body was not rested.

Consider the training differences for the “up” or “down” runs. While this was not something I’d considered before the race, “down” training should have addition strength training to help combat leg muscle fatigue from down-hill running and “up” runs need extensive hill training. Parry has a great post about training for Comrades.  To view it, please click HERE. 

Be aware that finishing Comrades is 90% mental toughness. With 89K, the punishing terrain, timing cut-off, and hot South African conditions you are going to push your body beyond its limits. When you converse with someone after the race and ask “How was your Comrades?” they will usually respond with when they felt physically and mentally tested. Be prepared for this. This is why running a 60k helps. Not just with training but with mental confidence. After running Comrades, I had a conversation with a runner who ran with a marine who told him that Comrades was the hardest experience of his life. American Olympian and Ironman masters champion Collen De Reuck stated 2016 Comrades “was the most challenging event I have ever done.” You can read more about her experience running Comrades by clicking HERE.   Again, be prepared for this. This is a race that brings grown men to tears. But it is also an amazing human experience that I can’t wait to run again. 

-Jo R.

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My Redemption Marathon

Lindi B

This spring, I surprised myself with a personal best in a redemption marathon.  After DNF'ing in the heat at mile 17.5 of the Boston Marathon, my soul needed another chance to finish a marathon with a positive experience.  Initially, I thought I would wait until August or September (just prior to the 2017 Boston Marathon application deadline); I knew from my own experience at Rehoboth five weeks after the NYC Marathon last year that it was something of a long shot for a revenge marathon to turn out as well as I hoped.  But by the weekend after Boston, I was not sore, appeared to have most of the fitness from my training build up and was itching to give it another try.

A few hours of online searches yielded the May 1, New Jersey Marathon as a good choice. The race had scenic stretches along the ocean, was a few hours from home and still had available entries and places to stay. I was moved by my husband Michael’s willingness to go with me and cheer me on, and his encouragement that I try again. We discussed doing it in low key way, not broadly announcing my plans in advance so that my disappointment would not have to be too public if it didn’t work out.

We settled on race goals together. My primary goal was to finish the marathon feeling strong, with a smile on my face. My second goal was to run a few minutes faster than the 3:45, Boston Marathon qualifying time. I would only try to run a personal best, faster than 3:38, if I was confident that I was accomplishing the first two and not risking melting down or an unhappy ending.

In the time between marathons, I tried to correct the fueling problems that plagued me in Boston. During Boston, my water canteen had blown up from the Nuun tablets I needed for electrolytes on a hot day. I learned that I could solve that problem by filling my water carrier less full. During Boston, I was nauseous for 10 miles. I decided to try to solve it by modestly increasing my gel intake, from four to five gels, after listening to a Runners Connect podcast by a fueling expert who said that nausea was caused by the stomach emptying and blood flow then needing to be rediverted from the muscles to the stomach. I planned and memorized the mile markers where I would refill water, take gels and see my husband. I visualized staying calm through anything that could go wrong, and the last miles being very windy and hard, yet pushing through.

Our trip to the Jersey shore was easy and uneventful. It took only a few minutes to pick up my number at the expo, take a cheesy photo with my remarkably tolerant teenaged daughter Kira, and head for a pre-race dinner. We were pleasantly surprised to be able to get a same day reservation at Piccola Italia, a restaurant with good, homemade pasta and swift service. I was unfortunately too nervous to be able to eat very much. We stayed at Cedars & Beeches, a lovely, Victorian bed and breakfast located a few miles from the finish line and near where the marathon route would pass twice.

Cheesy Expo Photo with My Daughter

The night before the race, I was worried. Not only was I going into the race with a poor track record, but I was worried that I had not been able to adequately rebuild my carb stores after getting food poisoning on the Tuesday night before the marathon. It didn’t help that I had felt too nervous to eat much at dinner time. I did my best to fuel on juice, bananas and whatever my body would accept. When pre-race nerves woke me at 3 am, I downed a sesame bagel with almond butter and a banana. At 4:30 am, I managed another banana and the overnight oatmeal I had brought. I started to relax.

My pre-race experience was almost perfect.  After imprinting the image of my sleeping daughter curled up like a cat in her bed in my mind, I arrived an hour before the 7:30 am start. I managed a wobbly smile to Michael when he dropped me off and wished me luck.  got a little thrill that my predicted finishing time got me a number near the front and elite baggage check. Mercifully, we were allowed to stay warm and use the restrooms inside the Monmouth Track/expo building. I ventured into the cold rain 9 minutes before the start and jogged five minutes to my corral. I stepped across the starting line three and a half minutes after the leaders. I’ve got this, I thought. Cold rain, can do.

The first five miles were hard. My Garmin shut down and refused to give any reading for almost the first mile. I wanted to run conservatively, but the large, 3:40 pace group ahead of me was slower than I wanted to start, so I weaved around them. My body was in flex between feeling too hot in the rain coat I was wearing and feeling grateful for when the wind gusted. I felt some relief after unbuttoning it. I struggled with a sinking feeling of defeat in the fourth mile when I started to feel nauseous. Here it is again. How would I be able to manage it for 21 miles? I took a gel, thinking that trying the frequent fueling strategy advocated by the podcast couldn’t hurt. 7:45, 7:55, 7:58, 8:06.

Almost immediately after taking the gel, I felt better. I settled in with the 3:30 pace group and my music. I decided that I would not look at my watch. I would run however felt comfortable, take a gel every four miles, stop for water as I had planned and enjoy my music. So long as I did not let the 3:40 group pass me and get out of sight, I would accomplish my pre-race goals.  I appreciated the spectators who had come out in the cold rain and smiled at their signs:  “Gu now, brews later.”  “You’re running better than the government” and “Touch here for power.” As planned, I stopped for water at mile 9.8 and got a huge lift from seeing Michael and Kira in the 13th mile.  7:56, 7:51, 7:54, 7:56, 8:10, 7:56, 7:57, 7:48

At around that time, we split from the half marathon runners, who turned in to finish. It was a bit hard to see them go, knowing we were really only getting started. When the pace started to feel hard in the 15th mile, I remembered my goal of finishing with a smile on my face, and let the 3:30 pace group go. I coasted along comfortably and happily until my next planned water stop at mile 17, where I tried to make a brief bathroom stop to relieve my full bladder. Ugggh!  Both portapotties were full and did not vacate.  I soldiered on. 7:55, 8:11, 8:14, 8:15, 8:37

Despite some physical discomfort, I started to feel much better when I got to mile 18, past the point where I had dropped out of the Boston Marathon and Rehoboth the prior December. I felt strong. “Nine more miles,” I told myself. “Let’s do it.” Miles 19-21 were mostly along the boardwalk. The winds were gusty, and the surface harder to run on than the road, but I kept thinking that running through it was an amazing, spiritual experience.  This is why I run! I decided that small, scenic marathons were the best for me. My body greedily and gratefully accepted my fifth gel. 8:35, 8:28, 8:25

When the course turned inland, I felt my form starting to degrade, but decisively put one foot in front of the other. I thought of the water stop planned at mile 23 and seeing my husband and daughter again just before mile 25. The 3:35 pace group caught up with me at the mile 23 water stop. A peek at my watch showed my heart rate plodding along at 166. My muscles were getting tired, but I had no excuse not to stay with them and dog it too much. I took a final, sixth gel and felt better. My heart soared when I saw my husband and daughter, telling me that I looked strong and cheering me on. I turned onto the final leg of the race along the ocean. 8:27, 8:14, 8:13

On the homestretch, I realized that I would meet my goals: finish with a smile on my face, BQ, plus get a healthy PR to boot. I choked back tears of joy and gratitude. My music play list cycled to a spiritual song, “Here I am to Worship,” and a flock of geese flew overhead in a perfect “V.”  8:11, 8:13

A few moments later, I saw the finish line ahead. I picked up the pace and couldn’t stop smiling.

I crossed the finish line in 3:34:33. A healthy PR, and 11th in my age group.

I was redeemed.

A few minutes later, I was thrilled to see fellow NY Flyers Nick B, Denise I, and Dana M at the finish line. These connections with wonderful people are also why I run. 

-Lindi B

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