Two Oceans ULTRA 2024 – Another one in the bag by Russell Mackintosh

It’s safe to say my preparation for this year’s Two Oceans Ultra didn’t go according to plan. I
tweaked my left hamstring 10 days before Milkwood Half Marathon and decided to rest it until the race. A note to self – testing a hamstring under race conditions is not a great idea.
Everything felt fine climbing up Slangkop, but by the 5km mark I was reduced to a hobble. On my long, disconsolate walk back to the finish line I was forced to confront the thought that I might not be starting my 26 th Two Oceans Ultra.

At my stage of a running career your PB’s are long forgotten, and the focus changes to accumulating finishes. Every missed event is an opportunity gone to add to your tally, and you never know how many more opportunities you’ll have. I tried to stay positive and so started the grind of 5 weeks of physio, strengthening exercises, and slow walk/running. The FOMO while watching all my FHAC mates running the Peninsula Marathon from the sidewalk in Beach Road was absolute torture.

Gradually my 7min/km 3km shuffle progressed to a 5km jog at 6:30min/km, and eventually an 8km trot at 6:10/km. At this point my recovery program was interrupted by a two week trip to Bodø, Norway. Bodø is north of the Arctic Circle, and everything is covered in snow and ice in March, so I expected my running opportunities to be limited.

To my surprise I discovered that the snow on the cross-country skiing routes in the forests behind my daughter’s house was compacted, and ideal for running. I managed to run 10km every alternate day in the most beautifully scenic environment you could wish for, which (as it turned out) was crucial for my preparations, as well as being good for the soul.

Once back in SA, I planned to do my only long run before Two Oceans – a solo 33km run on Easter Monday. I managed to get through it with a few short walks towards the end, and my average pace of 6:13min/km was well within the 7:30min/km required to finish Two Oceans before cut off.

Race strategy was going to be key to success or failure – I knew I had the fitness to run most of the first 35km at around 6:10min/km. That would leave me 21km to do in 3hrs 20min, with most of the downhill of Chappies still to go. With walk/running through Hout Bay, the aim was to get to the 42km mark under 4hrs 40min, which would give me a cushion of 10min/km – basically walking pace for the last 14km.

Staying the night before at Michael’s digs in Newlands allowed a 200m walk down Dean Street to get to the start pens – an absolute winner! Once in the pens I bump into fellow FHACers Ryan Bekker and Nigel Ormond, and pretty shortly thereafter Sean Falconer is on the mic yelling: “Group E go, go, go!” as we head into the pre-dawn darkness.

My group E qualification was courtesy of my permanent number, as opposed to many of the runners around me who had run the qualifying time – so I am very cautious not to get dragged out too fast by the group. One of the advantages of starting early and running slower is that you get to see a lot of your clubmates as they catch and pass you. Andrew Procter and Mark Baldwin steam past in Wynberg, followed shortly by Paulo Veloza.

Running through the Plumstead/Diep River area I notice that I am running faster than planned (at around 5:45/km) and tell myself to back off. Andrew Rushworth pulls up next to me, and we have a short chat before he cruises away like a racehorse out on an early morning canter. Through Retreat into Lakeside, and still the pace is a little on the fast side – back off, back off.

The support through Muizenberg is magnificent with walls of whooping, cheering spectators pushing in to create a tunnel of noise. Then the first sight of False Bay, white caps on the swells confirming what we already know – there is a fair breeze blowing. Into Kalk Bay, and the first cries of “Go Fish Hoek!” as we pass Olympia Café. At Clovelly Natasha Ing breezes up to me, all smiles and encouragement, before disappearing up the road.

The support from the spectators through Fish Hoek and Sun Valley is inspiring – so many familiar faces, a continual chorus of “Go Fish Hoek!”, and the chirps from envious fellow runners who can’t believe the amount of attention you are getting. Over the halfway mat, and then the boost of the Fish Hoek supporter gazebo at the start of Little Chappies – Bev with my replacement bottle and some nutritional supplies.

I manage a bit more running on Chappies than I anticipated, and get to greet Shani and Andre as they come past, followed shortly by Rob Lawson and Hein Coetzee – all looking fresh. Over the top of Chappies and the wind really picks up. I get to the 35km mark with 3hrs 20min left for 21km – bang on target. At East Fort I come across Keith Webster, who is battling with a hamstring pain. He recovers once we hit the flat road through Hout Bay, and I don’t see him again until the beer tent.

I hear two runners behind me discussing how they will be safe if they follow the blue number ahead of them. I chuckle inwardly – if they knew about my lack of training they wouldn’t be saying that.

Hulle weet nie wat ons weet!

My legs are really feeling the fatigue factor, with the lack of long runs starting to tell. Walks are more frequent, but I try and keep them short. I hit the marathon mark in 4:31, 9min ahead of schedule. I know I just have to keep moving forward to get my medal.

A long walk up Constantia Nek, followed by a painful shuffle down to Kirstenbosch Top Gate,
punctuated by short walks up F1 and F2. At Kirstenbosch Main Gate Lauren Tuck sails past me like she’s on a Park Run. At the M3 we turn up onto Chet’s Hill and I start looking around for reasons to distract myself from my screaming quads. I encourage and congratulate the yellow number runners around me – “Well done on your permanent number, mate!”.

And then I’m on the grass at UCT, the finish straight looks a mile long but I remember the Nikki Campbell mantra – On the grass, move your arse – and I cross the line in 6:26, exhausted but relieved to have another one in the bag. This was my slowest Two Oceans Marathon by a distance, but considering the barriers I had to overcome just to get to the start line, it’s definitely one of the sweetest.