My Marathon Journey by Helen Imrie

If you had asked me when I was a school girl, being lapped on the hot, dry field during a 1500m race, while the school body looked on, if I would ever run 5km, the answer would’ve been a hard ‘no’.  A few years later, having sort of recovered from the trauma of high school athletics, 5km runs (including FHAC time trials) were pretty common for me during the winter months when swimming wasn’t an option for the regular endorphin rush I now craved.

Fast forward to 2019, a stint overseas, 3 children, ‘fit moms’ groups and at least 50 Parkruns later, I was ready to enter a race or 2.  By the end of 2019, I was planning to aim for the big 21.1k in 2020.  We all know how that turned out.  Still running short (5-8km) solo runs, 2021 rolled round and I needed more.  Bronwyn Kloppers invited me to try the Tuesday/ Thursday early morning group from the beach.  I was hesitant at first- these were ‘real’ runners and I was not.  Well, at the risk of sounding dramatic, that running group changed everything!  With encouragement, guidance, friendly banter and the occasional ‘just do it!’ from the group members, I ran my first 21.1 (Milkwood) before the end of 2021.

In 2022, Peter and I joined FHAC with a family membership and ran a few more 21k’s in club colours- how awesome to be recognised by spectators!  In 2023 the goal was the short course incentive but there was definite FOMO when CT Marathon 2023 rolled round and so many of our fellow club members were running, especially their first.  I had always told myself that I didn’t need or want to run 42.2- it felt too far and too much for me.  But a nagging ‘but maybe…. you should just try’ voice entered my head and wouldn’t leave!  So at the beginning of 2024, the short course incentive was ditched for the goal of ‘run one marathon’… to get it out of my system and get rid of that nagging voice!

Peter and I continued to race our usual events, working hard and achieving pb’s for 21k.  In theory, we thought, the road to the marathon should be straight-forward- up the mileage, keep up with what we’re doing right.  That was the theory.  When the 12 week mark rolled round, neither of us could keep up with program (did I mention the 3 children?) and I was feeling that perhaps this wasn’t going to happen.  We eventually settled into a running schedule that meant we could tick the dreaded long runs off and before I knew it, the biggest run, Adrian’s 32km, was upon us.  Running this without my running partner was strange, but I did it and felt like a huge milestone was reached (poor Peter had to do this as a solo run, something I couldn’t have done!).  We finished the training and all of a sudden it was race week.  Cue the fairly constant nervous thoughts and dreams about running.  I avoided reading too much, watching too many Coach Parry videos and looking at the route in detail, as this exacerbated the feelings of uncertainty.  Meanwhile, my morning running buddies (and many other FHAC members) assured me that we had done the training and it would all be fine.  This became mine and Peter’s mantra for the week- it’ll be fine, we can do it.

On the Saturday before, we made sure to keep off our feet as much as possible, keep hydrated and get prepared with all the things we’d need on race day.  The 3:30am alarm sounded, we got up and out the door to get on the 4am bus with our fellow marathoners.  This was also an opportunity to catch up with an old friend who came to CT to run the marathon and the catch up was a good distraction from the nerves that were now well-settled into my body.  Waiting for the start time was hard- trying to time breakfast, tog bag drops and loo visits, but eventually it was time to get into the pen and get ready for our start.  The gun sounded (I think!) and following all the right advice, we kept it slow and steady as we headed past the Waterfront and then on to the windy elevated freeway.  Luckily us FH runners train well in the wind and so I wasn’t too bothered by it.  The first few k’s ticked by and I was still waiting to ‘get into’ the run.  Although our pace was steady and comfortable, I found it hard to settle.  We knew of supporters who would be at the half-way mark so I kept this as my first goal.  It was a great surprise to have cheers from running buddies in Newlands and this offered a temporary distraction to my thoughts of ‘how am I going to do this, we’re not even half way?’.  Peter and I kept up some casual chatting and observations of where we were, but I was needing a bathroom break and feeling uncomfortable overall.  Unfortunately/ fortunately the porta-loos were never available or a consideration (no details needed) so I pushed on and convinced myself and Peter that I would be ok.

We passed our cheering friends at the Common and had support from more FHAC members here too.  Having officially reached the half way mark, mentally, I thought, it should get easier.  This was not to be and by the time we got on to Liesbeek Parkway, I was feeling very unhappy with things.  Peter suggested a gel and kept up with the words of encouragement.  At around 25km, I felt I had hit the wall hard- I didn’t know how I was going to complete this mammoth run.  Peter kept talking and encouraging and walking with me as often as needed.  A few FHAC members came past us and encouraged us, also commenting on the challenges.  I reminded myself of what we had done to prepare for the run and the effort that we (and our incredibly supportive family) had gone to, for us to be here, and when we got to the 30km mark, my head was in a better place.  Of course, with the run/ walk style that we had adopted since 25km, it was hard for me to maintain a good rhythm, but we were moving and the achievement was becoming more of a reality.

I enjoyed the shade and scenery of Company Gardens and the vibe through the city.  As I’m sure others can attest to, hearing the finish line banter and seeing people with medals as we went through Greenpoint was rather disconcerting.  However, this was a part of the run that I was mentally prepared for (well, not the endless loop part).  I was buoyed by the view of the sea and the fact that the k’s to the finish were now in the single figures.  Peter and I kept up a run for 2 minutes/ walk for 1 minute rhythm and our chatter became more animated as we got closer to the finish.  My ‘get home’ instinct kicked in and I had final burst (or maybe dribble) of energy as we turned the corner and headed for the blue mat.  We had done it!  It was an emotional finish for me- relief that I had completed this run that had felt so hard, immeasurable gratitude that I could do it with Peter by my side every step of the way and a sense of achievement that I am still processing!

It has taken a few days to work out why, despite the medal round my neck, my Two Oceans Qualifying time (no way that’s happening, by the way!) and achieving the goal of ‘complete a marathon without feeling terrible afterwards’, I have been unsettled by the experience.  I have concluded, with the help of the insight of others, that not every run is going to be a good one.  While I know this in theory, it’s a bitter pill to swallow when it’s a ‘first’ and a big goal.  However, it is also a humbling life lesson in many ways.  The nagging voice has not stopped- now it’s suggesting I should try again, just in case.  I may have to have firm words telling it to be quiet!