When you hit the wall, hit it hard enough to bounce back by Lauren Tuck

This year was my third Cape Town Marathon, and this year I went into it knowing what to expect and armed with the knowledge that Woodstock would be windy and Salt River would be smelly. Mentally, I had divided the race into quarters – the first bit up until you turn off Main Road and into the suburbs, the loop around Rondebosch Common, the bit through Salt River and town, and then the dreaded Sea Point loop to the finish. I had my nutrition plan in place, I had a backup plan in case the water situation was as dire as it was last year. I felt under trained, having been very inconsistent since PUFfeR, but figured my legs would carry me.

The start was absolutely freezing, but at least the wind was nowhere near as bad as predicted. I found Beaumont also looking confusedly for Q batch (I have no idea how Beaumont ended up in Q, but there we were). We managed to avoid accidentally starting with L batch and enjoyed the vibe as we waited for the start, we chatted for the first couple of k’s and then he dropped back. I carried on, feeling pretty good, and proud of myself for actually remembering to put sunscreen on this time (a first for me, as I had forgotten both previous times).

As I tried my best to stay ahead of the massive 4:30 bus, I realised I was probably going a bit too fast, but the tambourines and the singing and the chanting were just too much for me. Cruising along, the kilometres ticked by steadily and I breezed through my first mental quarter, feeling strong. Saw a few folk I knew along through Newlands who called my name, Jacky at 20km and was boosted by a high five, and Shirley not long after, and felt buoyed by the supporters. And that’s where it all started to go pear shaped…

Right on schedule, I ate a Far Bar, and then my stomach rebelled and started to cramp. Slowed down a bit to let it digest and started feeling a little better. Marcy came bounding along past me as we climbed along towards Salt River, and then the dreaded bus caught me. I decided to just drop behind them because I didn’t have the energy at that point to put any distance between us, but it threw me off because 4:30 was my goal time and now I was behind. I had a Gu at my next nutrition break instead of a Far Bar, which was even worse. The Gu fought back, hard, and I struggled not to give into the nausea and the scents of Salt River. That, combined with the mental nonsense that seems to happen at 30km, and the never ending climb up Company’s Garden, was the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back. My Strava graph paints a clear picture – I dropped to a walk/jog and completely lost my sense of humour for a good 2km.

As we started to come down out of town, I felt a little better, ran a bit more and pulled myself together somewhat. I switched to Coke and water instead of trying to eat anything else, which also helped. By the time I got to 35km and the start of the loop of doom I felt ok again, and when I passed one of the drivers of the massive and loud bus, I realised I had been right, and he had started way too fast and blown out. The 4:30 bus from the batch behind me came past me at some point and I tried to keep up, but just didn’t have the legs. I decided to just ride it out and finish as strong as possible.

At this point, Beaumont came trotting past me looking like he’d just been out for a Sunday stroll, and try as I might, I couldn’t keep up with him either. Then I came across Coach Pat looking about as grumpy as I felt. Perhaps misery really does love company, because he decided to join me for the longest last kilometre of my life to the end. According to my watch (and Strava, which is what counts) I ran 42.2km in 4:28, so technically I came in under my goal time. Sadly for me, the race didn’t end when my watch said 42.2km, and nearly 600m later I crossed the finish line in an official time of 4:32:20. It’s still a PB for me, so I’ll take it.

Lessons learned that day: don’t start too fast, even if you’re going to get mowed over by an obnoxious bus; have a plan but be prepared for your plan to go south; your mind is stronger than your legs and your stomach; and if you’re going to hit the wall, hit it hard enough that you bounce back. Qualifier in the bag. Two Oceans 2025, I’m coming for you.