I haven’t written much about my running for a while. As many of you know I’m an avid runner with a passion for the sport. However, I’ve fallen prey to a number of injuries along the way and had to practice patience, downscale my goals and build my form from scratch.
Speak to any injured runner and they can attest to how devastating it is to let go of your racing dreams or even accept one might not attain their former glory. As much as I love running and feel I’m flying high as a kite at times, it’s always short-lived and easily forgotten after a terrible run.
And non-runners would ask – why do it, why bother, why waste your time pursuing a sport that breaks you down (literally), drags you out of a warm bed at unholy hours , makes you all sweaty and miserable when you can’t run? For me, it’s simple – running is my escape, joy and nemesis whirled into one!
This year has seen me take on a number of 10km races. It took many setbacks to finally accept my body works best with consistency and improving my time rather than increasing the mileage. Neil and I have been spoilt for choice, running a race almost every weekend in Cape Town. Having a partner who shares my love of running is priceless ❤
A race that stood out for me was the Cape Town 12 One Run. It launched its inaugural event in May last year to mass participation and was voted the best race of 2015. I missed it and had serious fomo! When I saw it being advertised early in 2016, I knew I had to take part. I immediately entered Neil and I to run the 12km distance. Up to this point we’d only run 10km races, so the additional 2km’s seemed rather daunting!
Setting off to collect our race numbers a day before the race, I was already hyped up. The Green Point athletics stadium was abuzz with runners waiting in line. We kept each other company sharing who’d run it before and what to expect. Some were even saying they were aiming for personal bests as it was a relatively flat race. All this talk of running and racing was music to my ears and I couldn’t wait to line up.
From the moment I opened my eyes on race day, I was awoken by a lovely sms from the organisers saying it was time to rise and shine and I needed to catch a bus to the start. As the race commenced only at nine, we had sufficient time to get to town, seek parking and make our way to the Grand Parade to catch a Mi-city bus to Milnerton. I’d never travelled on the vamped up busses before and Neil and I were like two school children giggling in our seats.
Everything about the race spelt fun and fabulous. From the carnival performers in their colourful ensembles, the marimba bands, the minstrels, drum majorettes, DJ’s, African dancers, firefighters and so much more. Each kilometre marked a different group performing and cheering the runners on. I didn’t feel the distance whizz by as I was loving every moment, taking in the sights and sounds.
Races like these remind me why I love the sport. It’s never about beating the next person, rather challenging yourself to do better, to soak in your surroundings and appreciate the countless people who give up their weekends to ensure your safety and cheer you on.
Congratulations CT 12, you’ve outdone yourselves 🙂