My Comrades Experience

I could talk a ton about what it's like to be here but I'll keep it to the race only.
Leaving Sally's mom's place in Hillcrest at 4am got us to the race start around 4:30, one hour from gun time. It turned out it was warmer than I thought it would be, about 13 degrees whereas back in Hillcrest it was about 8. Better to start in Durban than Pietermaritzburg, a few people had told me. After a pre-race picture I left to go to the entrance to the race start area. With 45 minutes to wait I thought I'd bide my time in the bathroom line-up thinking that by the time I got to the front I'd have to go and also there wasn't much else to do anyways. I with I had brought a camera to the start to show what it was like lining up much like the start of the Sun Run where everyone's all packed together. I was waiting by the side fence when I felt a little drop fall on my hat. Surely it wasn't rain with not a cloud in the sky. It could only mean one thing - a good luck crap on the hat from a bird. It turned out to be lucky for me.
With the South African anthem sung, next came the singing of "Shosholoza", a traditional song as explained by Wikipedia:

Although the original author of the song is unknown, Shosholoza is a traditional miner's song, originally sung by groups of men from the Ndebele ethnic group that travelled by steam train from their homes in Zimbabwe to work in South Africa's diamond and gold mines. The Ndebele live predominantly in Zimbabwe(formerly, Rhodesia) near its border with South Africa, and they can also be found in the northern border of South Africa. The song mixes Ndebele and Zulu words and is Zimbabwean in origin even though the two ethnic groups are very similar. Some people argue that the song describes the journey to the mines in South Africa, while others say it describes the return to Zimbabwe. It is also sometimes sung "stimela si phume Rhodesia". According to cultural Researchers Booth and Nauright tell us that Zulu workers later took up the song to generate rhythm during group tasks and to alleviate boredom and stress. The song was sang by working miners in time with the music beat as the were swinging their axes to dig. It was usually sang under hardship in 'call and response' style (one man singing a solo line and the rest of the group responding by copying him). It was also sang by prisoners in call and response style using alto, soprano part divided by row. Former South African President Nelson Mandela describes how he sang Shosholoza as he worked during his imprisonment on Robben Island. He describes it as "a song that compares the apartheid struggle to the motion of an oncoming train" and goes on to explain that "the singing made the work lighter".

In contemporary times, it is used in varied contexts in South Africa to show solidarity in sporting events and other national events to rely the message that the players are not alone and are part of a team.

The song was usually sang to express the hardship of working in the mines. It expresses heart ached over the hard work performed in the mines. The word Shosholoza or "chocholoza!" means go forward or make way for the next man, in Ndebele. It is used as a term of encouragement and hope for the workers as a sign of solidarity. The sound "sho sho" uses onomatopoeia and reminiscent of the sound made by the steam train (stimela). Stimela is the Zulu word for steam train. "Kulezo ntaba!" means (At those far away mountains), "Stimela Siphume eZimbabwe" (the train come from Zimbabwe), "Wen´ uya baleka" (Because you're running away/hurrying). In contemporary times, its meaning it to show support for any struggle

Shosholoza
Shosholoza
Ku lezontaba
Stimela siphum' eZimbabwe
Shosholoza
Shosholoza
Ku lezontaba
Stimela siphum' eZimbabwe
Wen' uyabaleka
Wen' uyabaleka
Ku lezontaba
Stimela siphum' eZimbabwe

A rough translation:

Go forward
Go forward
on those mountains
train from Zimbabwe
Go forward
Go forward
You are running away
You are running away
on those mountains
train from Zimbabwe

That song was sung very loudly by most I could see around me. Pretty emotional. After that all that was left was for the rooster to crow, something a competitor used to belt out before he ran the race. I believe they tape recorded him once and now they play that before every race. The gun fired at exactly 5:30 and 16,000 folks all left on a journey of self-discovery.
Although they call this an "up" year, it's hard to imagine how many hills there actually are. I can't wait to get home and download the profile from the Garmin. The route travels one side of the closed off freeway out of town before turning off onto the old highway at about 8km. Cowies Hill, the first of The Big Five comes at about 17km and although it didn't feel too bad to run steadily up it on the outside of the road (less steep) I should have taken more walk breaks. Like most people you get caught up in running because everyone else is. Up and over that my legs were feeling great and the next challenge was Fields Hill at 25km. This was a longer, steeper, and with a few tight S turns. I walked a couple times up this one just because I thought it would be a good idea not to blow up this early. After that climb it was the usual rolling hills but mostly rolling up than down. 35k in we crested the road to Hillcrest. It here that there was the most people watching and cheering. I was amazed how I got inundated with "Go Canada Go" and "Hey Canada" (all pronounced Ca-Na-Da). It really lifted me up on this long steady grade out of Hillcrest. One aid station was playing a song that the kids like but I always make fun of. It really made me think of them and all sorts of things and I admit I got a bit choked up at that point. The elation and energy would not last long.
The sun was hitting us pretty hard by now and for those of us who have had no heat training to speak of it was starting to take its toll. I thought I was drinking enough but by the time I was halfway up Botha's Hill (#3 of 5) I could feel those dreaded beginnings of cramping in my quads. I started with the electrolyte tabs, something I haven't used all year. I never really know if those are helping or if I should just drink more fluids. I really picked up on the drinking of water as well as my own drink mix. Passing the the halfway mark at 3:25 I knew by how my legs felt and that there were still some ugly hills upcoming that a sub-7 finish probably wasn't in the cards. I started focusing on sub-7:30.
The distance markers for this race count backwards every single kilometre and I passed the time by doing the math on converting the kms to miles and how slow I could run them and still reach my goal. After Botha's Hill comes Inchanga, short but relatively steep climb where my quads and calves really started talking. I began stopping at about every second aid station that had people to rub ice or arnica cream on my legs, anything to get me to the next one. I figure I did this probably a dozen times over the last 40kms.
Through the area known as Camperdown and up to the highest point in the race at 810m was Umlass road. You'd think being the highest point that it would be all downhill after that but not a chance. We did get a nice easy descent for a couple kilometres after that though. To get a 7:30 finish my average pace had to say above 8:15 minutes per mile. At this point I was around 8:00 and figured it'd be no problem, even with the last ugly hill upcoming.
Around the 12km remaining mark came what's known as Little Pollys. Not to be confused with it's bigger, upcoming cousin, Polly Shortts. People sometimes think they're on the big one when the first have to get over the little one. I can't remember much about Little Pollys because by this point I was really messed up, thinking only about how I could nurse my legs a few more kilometres. Once onto Polly Shortts you know you're on it. It starts with a few twists and turns then all you see in front of you is a deadly steady go. You might say I walked a bit of this one.
After Pollys I knew there was lots of downhills but they killed my legs as much as going up. My mental fortitude was tested often as all I wanted to do was walk the ups, downs, and the flats. The only thing that kept me going was that I had come all this way for a silver medal and had the cut-off been 7:00 or 7:15 I would have known I couldn't make it and therefore probably walked most of the last 8km after Pollys.
The km markers ticked down and I knew I could run the last two miles in twenty minutes easy barring and last minute leg seizings. I hoped like hell I could manage just a little longer. Everything was locking up - quads, hams, calves, and even my ankles were causing me to run awkwardly on the outsides of my feet once in a while. I stopped at the top of the last little hill when someone ran by and yelled on his way by, "Don't stop now or you won't get the silver." I knew I had the silver, it was just a way of appeasing my body momentarily for all it had been through.
Finally on one of the last turns I saw Sally and Sean holding out my Canada hat and the sign I made for the fam to carry across with me. A half lap around the outside of the cricket oval and the finish was in sight. Having watched a bunch of people's finishing videos on the computer from last year it was a little emotional seeing it from this side. I thought about how long I'd been thinking of that very moment - for a few years but specifically eighteen months ago when I had signed up for last year's race. I know now that had I come here for the race on such little training due to my stress fracture I would have suffered horribly. Even though it was a "down" year last year it still would have killed me with insufficient training.
My average pace ended up at 8:12 minutes/mile with a finish time of 7:26, 426 overall.
I hung around until the end, chatting with fellow Canadians and watching people come across the line. Sometimes there would be a huge mob of runners finishing at the same time, led in by one of the "buses", as in "The 11 hour bus", or what we call pace bunnies.
Still not sure what caused the ugliness in my legs this time. Lack of heat in the spring? (probably not). Underestimating this race's hills and difficulty? (probably)
I can't say I'd do it again but it would be interesting to see what the down run would be like.
Looking back on the last two years' worth of racing results I'm going to take a hard look at what is important to me and what I want to occupy my time with. Will ultrarunning be a part of that time? Time will tell.

Comrades Pictures

Darin's Comrades Videos