Part 11 - The Jackpot

The trip to Cape Town for Two Oceans was another one of those epic types really, with funny stories and stupidity thick in the air. In the weeks leading up to the race we had determined that College needed a new pair of runners. He duly went out and purchased them. At around the 21km mark of the race College was complaining of significant pain in a knee. Now, you must know that College is not the type to complain about discomfort or pain easily, if he says it hurts it probably does (a lot). Somehow he made it through the race, despite the knee that felt like it was going to ‘give in’ most of the time. As it turns out, when College had gone to get his new runners he neglected to take his old ones with him and did not really know the exact type they were. He ended up buying a new pair of runners which looked very much like his old pair, but unfortunately were not stability shoes, but neutral ones! College had done his first ultra marathon in a pair of neutral running shoes (on minimal training)! Apparently College discovered this while chatting to a physiotherapist (about the coming Comrades), who must have been quite bewildered at the amateurish behaviour on show!

After Two Oceans I was reasonably confident that Comrades was a possibility. Unfortunately soon after getting back from Cape Town my brother decided to leave M&A and therefore leave me in the lurch with no manager, meaning I had to be at the shop 7AM to 8PM every day. So that put paid to that. Closer to Comrades my good friend Kevin heard that I was going to have to ‘can’ Comrades because of the shop and he offered to look after the shop so that I could go. I was shocked by the offer! Kev has a wife, family and very time consuming job, yet he was willing to do this for me. I was over the moon, and started typing up some notes to help him while I was away. Sadly, the joy was short-lived. I promptly proceeded to get injured and was unable to run even 5km without significant consequences in pain and mobility. I ended up working like that at the restaurant for the better part of three months. During that time I really took a lot of strain. I was unable to do anything really besides work. College went down to Comrades and ran decently for his 10h51 finish. He had not started running that long before January really so it was impressive.

I on the other hand was massively disappointed to not be able to go down to the race, even to just support. Thankfully he had his whole family there and it was a great weekend.

During my time alone at the shop [Puppy class girl] was very supportive and really helped me get through it. Our relationship seemed to get on well. Unfortunately during that time she took a bad tumble off her horse and was badly concussed. She took a lot of strain and really struggled with her recovery. From my side, I struggled to deal with her recovery. She is a very sensitive person and it took much longer than I thought it would for her to get back to normal. At the time it seemed to me that (and I might be wrong) she simply took the advice that concussions can take up to 6 months to clear up –and went with that as a guide and blocked off the possibility that she might recover faster. I might have been (am being?) a bit harsh, but it really got to me, I wanted her to get on with it. Our relationship took strain, although I thought we were still quite solid overall.

Time went on and eventually I found a manager, [new manager]. Pretty good guy -not huge on personality but good on reliability. He could start immediately and I was seriously desperate by this time! I took a few days to get him up to speed with how things ran and then worked out some shifts we could work. I made it so that we mostly worked half days, with me on from open until 13h00 and him from 13h00 until close. I gave him Saturday as his off day and I took Sunday and Monday –although Monday I was running around getting stuff for the shop anyway. This freed up a lot of time for training which was now going full steam towards my second New York Marathon (sweeeeet!)

Training progressed better that last time and I was hoping –all being well- to run under 4 hours and in so doing take an hour off last years time. It would be tough, but I was confident I could do it. Towards the end of October [Puppy class girl] went to St Francis for her annual family holiday -her being away for so long (until mid Jan!) put a lot of strain on me and I started to struggle to maintain my feelings with her being away for so long. Unfortunately we eventually ended up breaking up over the phone, which was a very shit. 

The marathon didn’t go exactly as planned. In the week before the race my stomach was playing up badly for some reason and I found myself in the WC (much) more often than usual. I was a bit upset about that as I was going to aim for that sub-4, but I accepted it (all I could do, really) and prepared as best I could.

Right –as will become clear now, this was all written some time ago. Things have changed somewhat re this next part. Read on..

One completely rad thing that happened on the New York trip was that I got to go for a run with Lance Armstrong. He had tweeted that he was in the City for something and that he was going for a run, starting at Nike Town on 5^th Avenue at 9h30 the Sunday before the marathon. I arrived there (together with about another 1000 or so people) and the run started with a massive frenzy of bodies. The pace was fairly hectic (for me at the time!), I estimate close to 4 minutes per kilometer. Lance ran with a few minders in close proximity to himself so as not to be mobbed. As the run went on the group got smaller and smaller, the pace was tough! I struggled to stay with and used up much energy doing so. I didn’t exactly chat to the Boss, but I was running within a few meters of him. As a massive LA fan, this was a small dream come true. The run ended in Central Park and Lance said a quick few words of thanks, jumped into a yellow cab and was gone. Damn, I was now wasted! The run was only 5 km or so, but I hoped that I had not destroyed myself for the big day tomorrow!

So there it is. Lance was my ultimate, the last man standing, the BEST. That is no longer the case (was never), and I am appalled and disgusted by his attitude and actions (for a great quick read on how I feel go here: http://www.supersport.com/cycling/blogs/mike-haysman/Armstrong_deserves_nothing)

Disappointing! –Lets move on..

My guides this time round were two teachers from Marvin Elementary School, Steve Weeks and Bob Cornell –really good guys. Both had done a bit of running before in their lives. Steve (in his 50s) had beaten cancer and was big into Ironman triathlon. He’d been to Kona a few times (Ironman World Championships in Hawaii) and was very knowledgeable. Bob (early 30s maybe?) had done a few marathons but wasn’t as fit. We chatted most of the way and it was good. I had to stop to throw up around the 25km mark, but besides that it was fine. We weren’t running very fast, but I didn’t mind too much. Towards the end of the race Steve developed an injury and sent Bob and I on our way with instructions on how to pace ourselves to the best possible finish. Eventually I was running by myself, finishing strong. I crossed the line in much pain after 4h34m of running. Damn, that whole in-out-in thing in Central Park at the end ALWAYS gets me! Once again, because I was an Achilles runner it was dead easy to get out of the finishing area and into the Achilles tent. Eventually I found Steve (Bob was nowhere to be found) and we walked back into the city towards our hotels instead of using public transport. We said our goodbyes and thank yous and parted ways. I went back to the hotel and slept. I was happy with how the run had gone, slow time, but just so incredible to be there, and also to meet people like Bob and Steve.

This is where the story ends… after this my life becomes somewhat normal –and so I stopped writing..

Nevertheless, here is a brief run down, in point form (I have always been lazy!) of the next few years:

•  I met a wonderful girl called Kimmi –we have a child of 3 months old and are so happy
• I went back to New York and ran an all-time PB 3h44 (I have since run faster again)
• I work in an industry that I am passionate about, and (generally) look forward to kicking ass and taking names every day at work
•  My brother and I are mates again
•  I still struggle with aspects of rehabilitation, though I can do all the things I want to do
• Life is long, you learn lessons along the way… I look back on times when I was ABSOLUTELY CONVINCED that I was right when I now realize I was wrong
•  There are always challenges in life, but I honestly feel like I have hit the jackpot :-) :-) :-) :-)

Part 10 - Cycling again and the Two Oceans Ultra

Meeting up with [puppy class girl] again was good, if a little awkward as we both were a little unsure of where we were with each other. Anyway, we continued to spend time together and eventually things seemed to be as they were before. I was really happy that I had found a softer side to her and that she was not so much a ‘logical, rational machine’ as I thought she was.

Earlier in the year I had entered the 94.7 Cycle Race (95 or so kilometers through Johannesburg). The race was two weeks after NYC to the day. I had not cycled since before my stroke, so it probably wasn’t the wisest, but I was determined to do it (in hindsight, WTF was I thinking!?). The main problem was that I could still not unclip my left foot from my pedal (to this day I still can’t), so would have to be really careful about planning stops at the correct and convenient times. Since starting with cycling about 2 years or so before my stroke I found that I really enjoyed it and was a pretty decent cyclist for the most part. I was going to ride the race at my leisure and take it easy, there was no real point in trying to go fast as my body was still recovering from the marathon and I had zero cycling mileage in my legs. I hooked up with Grant, a friend of mine who is a good guy and a good cyclist. He was trying to encourage some of his staff to get into the whole fitness thing and was going to ride the race with them, helping them along and through. I decided I would do the same. I was not going to be concerned with times or heart-rates or any of that stuff. I rode with them at a snails pace for what I estimate was 60 or so kilometers before I just could not anymore and had to ‘put the hammer down’ and try to get this race done. They were going to be out there a long time, and I didn’t want to be out there too. I was pretty strong, I hammered it and basically time-trialed to within 10km of the finish before I had a spectacular blow-up and started searching frantically for aid-stations. In my kindness and ‘wisdom’ I had given all my energy gels to others I thought needed them more! I had the usual things happening to me: shaky legs, blurred vision, dodgy co-ordination (and it was bad enough as it was!). Thank goodness I found an aid station. I stuffed my face with tons of Coke and water for 5 minutes before hopping on and finishing the race. It was a really nice experience, very different from any cycle race I had done before… I never even wore a watch, I was amazed that I did that –its something I would never dream of doing before.  It was great riding a bicycle again and it reminded me that I should get back into it ASAP.

Wow, OK so I’ve just read through all that I have written and not all of it makes sense –sorry! As time went on after my ‘thing’ I realized more and more that my mind was not the same as it used to be. In the past I was able to write quite well –one or two people even mentioned the word ‘talented’ in the same breath as my writing. Post stroke I found it very difficult to write as fluently as I did before. According to the doctors the damage to my brain resulted in me struggling with planning and short-term memory. Now, anyone who has ever had to write anything over 1000 words will know that a reasonable amount of planning is required. While my planning skills and short-term memory have gotten better over time through the use of certain mechanisms, I don’t think I’ll get back to where I was before. I’ve learned to deal with that and I have moved on psychologically.

So after the 94.7 life kind of carried on as it does. My relationship with [puppy class girl] developed into something quite special and I enjoyed spending time with her. That December I joined her and the family in St Francis for a few weeks over the Christmas and new-year period. We spent a lot of time on the beach (she loves the beach) and we ate good food (her family always cooked up a storm). I returned home in early January to get going with M&A. At this point I was still very hopeful of fulfilling a little dream I had to do Ironman again in April, but as time went on I realized that it wasn’t going to happen (for a LONG time -I'm still trying!). In the mean-time ‘College’ (Jon, best friend from school) and I had been doing quite a bit of running together and he convinced me that running the Comrades Marathon (a brutal 89km ultra run between Pietermaritzburg and Durban in South Africa) was a good idea. Although I wasn’t in good shape in terms of cycling or swimming, my running was pretty decent. And, as it turned out, my 4:57 at the New York marathon was two minutes and fifty-nine seconds more than I needed to qualify for Comrades. So, we embarked on training. College and I tend to be rather casual about things that we should be more serious about, so the training wasn’t always what one might deem intelligent or prudent. Nevertheless, we trained with the end goal of completing the Comrades Marathon. College is a geologist by trade, and not a stupid man, if you know what I mean. College, or Jon Stacey as most know him, arrived at St John’s College, Johannesburg at the same time as me, in the 3^rd year of high school. Over the years we developed a strong bond of friendship, cemented by the fact that we both ended up being prefects in the boarding school, and did our best to terrorise/educate/teach the 1^st years ‘what it was all about’. We had a hell of a lot of fun. After school we went our separate ways, and eventually College ended up studying at Cardiff in Wales and I (predictably) ended up at the University of Johannesburg, with a later stint in London. We kept in touch through the years and often at a moments notice would embark on epic trips up mountains and down rivers in Zambia and surrounds or end up meeting in Bangkok for a three-week exploration of Thailand. We dubbed these meetings ‘Dangerous Liaisons’ and kept record of them as best we could (we still do).

Anyway, we continued our training, as best as our schedules would allow us (College was based in Johannesburg, but was often out of the country or city for work). As the big day drew closer things looked pretty hopeful. We were not getting nearly the amount of training in recommended by ‘experts’ but we were confident of pulling it off. During all this time I continued my sessions with [Bio] (I was hopeful that a strong core might ‘save’ me, again).

College ended up running a good qualifier at the Pick ‘n’ Pay Marathon, it was quite an impressive effort considering all the shit that was going down at the time, including an obligatory family holiday to the Otter Trail. In preparation for Comrades it is advisable to do at least one ‘ultra’ marathon; this generally means a run of over 42.2km. We had decided that we would use the Two Oceans 56km ultra as this run. Leading up to the race things were not ideal, I remember being very apprehensive about it as I (for some reason) had not got enough training in. Nevertheless, we ended up doing the Two Oceans in a slow time. We weren’t too worried as our big goal was Comrades.

Part 9-Success in New York

The race was similar in crowd attendance on the sides of the road to the London marathon, but Americans are of course so much more vocal and noisy than the typical reserved Brit spectator. It was also election time, with mostly pro-Obama banners lining the streets.

I would say that on (almost) every corner there was a band of some kind playing, with a resident crowd having a massive party egging on the runners. The atmosphere was just incredible. The guides ran in formation around me warning me of dangers ahead like holes, slippery surfaces, or unexpected objects. In addition, they constantly inquired as to how I was feeling, and always offered me drinks and whatever else was available at the many aid stations. They were incredibly energetic and were whooping and shouting and jumping around the whole 42.2 km. Jeremy was an American who owned a franchise running store called Fleet Feet in Cincinnati was a really good guy, very genuine and at the same time very enthusiastic and knowledgeable about running (I think he said he had done Comrades a few times with his wife or something). Peter was a South African diplomat who had been living in the states for a few years with his family, and was also a genuinely good guy and a bloody strong runner –he had just finished a 55 MILER the weekend before and was going to run a 100km race two weeks hence. The other guy was a Chinese-American guy who was ill and pulled out at halfway. Peter was the guy who would keep us going at the required pace with his Garmin Forerunner GPS watch (just like mine back home). He would constantly monitor our pace and say if we were going too fast or too slow to break 5 hours. Along the way we passed some of the guys from our group and stopped for a photo, at the time I wasn’t sure we really could afford the time, but I didn’t really mind that much, I had to stop to say hi to Dennis (the old man I was sharing a bed with and also the head of Achilles SA) who was acting as a guide to Keki and Shiny Things. They took nine hours to finish the race, but they finished.

I ran surprisingly well, considering my (lack of) training. I was feeling fine for most of the way up until around 30km or so (usual story for a marathon I guess). At that point I wanted to pick it up a little but my guides had other ideas and we stuck to our plan for a sub-5 finish. It turned out to be for the best, as I started fading badly anyway. The funny thing was that the only thing that really hurt were my joints. My legs felt (relatively) fine. I realized that while the Bio sessions did excellently to strengthen my legs and core for the run, there could be no substitute for running to get your joints used to the pounding. The value of my hours spent in Bio sessions were starting to show now, deep into the marathon.

My body was holding together fine, but the joints were just not used to the duration of work required of them. As a result I was hobbling quite badly (I fitted in well with the other runners!). As we approached the finish line (about 500 metres from it) we stopped for another photo with Peter’s family who had been trying to see us the whole time on the road by driving to different points in the race.

After that we started moving those last metres towards the finish. Crossing the line I was relieved that it was over and happy that we at least ran under 5 hours (4:57). Peter and the Garmin had paced us to perfection. The finish was great because as we were Achilles runners we got special treatment, and were able to get out of the finishing area in next to no time. I went straight back to the hotel and slept.

I reflected on the fact that had it not been for all the stops along the way, we might have run 15 or even 20 minutes faster; Its funny, in the past this would have bothered me massively, this time it was not even an issue for me. I was just so happy to be there and to be part of something great. This was certainly a big departure from how I used to be (really focused on the performance aspect, maybe sometimes forgetting about the fun factor).

The next few days in NYC were spent seeing some of the classic sights which we did not see before, going to the top of the Empire State Building was obviously a highlight –an amazing view of the City and surrounds from up there.

The day after the run I was in Macy’s doing some last minute bargain hunting when [Girfriend] called. It was actually so nice to chat to her (it usually is, we always seem to get on OK). She was very proud of what I had done and let it be known which was very nice. It was difficult to talk to her when I was in such a happy and content state of mind; I still had (and always will have) very strong feelings for her. Its funny how general happiness and a feeling of contentment can alter the decisions you make and the way you act towards others. There was a part of me that really just wanted to forget about all the crap and try to re-connect with [Girfriend]. I tried to stay in control and managed (I think) to not be a complete insensitive bastard, while maintaining some sense of decorum.

Before I left for NYC I had written [Puppy class girl] a letter basically asking how she felt about ‘us’. We had been broken up for about a month and I was missing her and wondering if I had been too hasty in breaking it off. My running routes take me past her house and in that month that we were apart I saw her once or twice on the road (she walked a lot at the time) and we would chat briefly. Shortly before NYC we had had dinner at Primi Piatti in Sanridge (it is a hole, FYI) and it was quite enjoyable, we chatted well and had a ‘friendly’ dinner without any long-winded discussions of relationships and ‘us’. The simple reality was that the two of us connected on numerous levels. Intellectually we both enjoyed a good ‘devil’s advocate’–type discussion, personality-wise we both are logical and practical to a large extent, and intimately we connected in an intense and familiar way (despite not knowing each other for that long).

In my letter I had mentioned these things and before I left she had sent me an SMS basically saying that she was willing to give it another go. I received the message upon arrival in NYC. I was quite excited, but also nervous –this was not the usual thing for [Puppy class girl]- and I hoped it was not a mistake. Throughout my time in NYC she and I kept in contact via SMS, and even chatted briefly on the phone. I was quite excited (and again, nervous) to get back and see her and chat to her to see where ‘we’ were.

Arriving back in Johannesburg was (as usual), great. I love home and being home with my family and familiar surroundings. John had been missing me and I him (more I think!). I always seem to miss my family life immensely, particularly my Mom and sister Kayleigh. Seeing them again is always SUCH an amazing feeling. I managed to get gifts for most, but not all at home, I really enjoy getting people gifts for some reason.