A Qualifier and a Surgery

The most ideal preparation for a key race should not include massive stomach pain and bouts of diarrhea. But heading into the Mealie Marathon in the mining town of Welkom, there was little choice in diet. Liquids and abstaining from alcohol did the trick. After dodging heavy rains, the day dawned cloudy but without heat or rain. The course was amazingly flat and I had Kirsten ready to drag me to a sub-3, and my “A” qualifier for Comrades.

The first half was fine and we went through a little fast (1:27). The wind picked up and we had to manage some dirt roads. I wasn’t in the best shape after running only 10 miles that week. But things held together until about the last 5-7K. I started to struggle in the wind and my stomach tightened up. There just wasn’t much there to drive me through. And unfortunately, there were two guys within my reach, but I just couldn’t tell the body to go get them. I crossed the line in 7th place and in 2:54:57. Pleased.

We stayed at 3-time Comrades Gold Medalist's Trevor Parry's house.  The celebration of a good run was a braai and excessive amounts of Jack Daniels. To top it off, I had to return to my liquid diet Sunday and start the preparation for a colonoscopy. The doctor wanted to go in, make sure things looked right, and take a biopsy to see what bacteria were in there. The process wipes you out and I had more days of diarrhea after. I had one good day before starting my course of medicine for the next 30 days. It makes me feel exhausted and I hate every minute of it.

Originally I had planned a double marathon weekend but canceled the first as a combined result of my hard effort the week before and the recent stomach letdown. Saturday brought a slow 16.6 mile run with a friend and a day of expulsion of all liquids from my rear. I awoke Sunday morning in pain, empty, and perhaps the lowest motivation I have had. I did not want to run, and contemplated not starting. As is becoming the norm, the line to park took forever. I barely slapped on the lube and jogged the 1 mile to the start line. When I tried to pick up my number, they told me someone else had picked it up already. I took a replacement, pinned it on the walk, and started outside the corrals.

The first few Ks were a death march. Among the people I weaved and passed were an 80-year-old woman (running believe it or not), a 60-year-old woman in the walking category, and a girl who stopped to walk before the 2K mark, overcome by the blistering 10 min/mile pace. Once I found open pavement, I still felt dead and behind pace for 15K. It wasn’t until halfway (1:44:20) that I felt normal running. Each step felt the same as the last, and it was like starting the marathon with legs at mile 16. But they never got any worse. I cruised to a 3:27 and walked away quickly, glad to have survived. Marathon 43 completed. Two marathons done. Chipping away at my goal of 7 marathons in 6 weeks

3 time Comrades Gold medalist Tyler Parry shows us his many medals and tells stories of the race.

Best damn training group this side of the pond - L to R: Me, Adrian Lazar, Lindsey Parry, Trevor Parry, Campbell Nel (w/ baby), and Kirsten Leemans

My pacer Kirsten

Post-race drinks (about to turn sour)