Road Running: The 30 Km Bay To Bay Road Race

Camps Bay To Hout Bay… and Back!

22 January 2023

30 Kms of fun!

Not since 2019 was there so much vibe on this race I love to hate. And I loved loved every minute of it.

Traditionally, Bay To Bay, 30 kms of road running along the Atlantic seaboard from Camps Bay to Hout Bay and back, through some of the most expensive real estate on the African continent, took place on the first Sunday of January.

Until 2012, it used to be organised by my running club, AAC (Atlantic Athletic Club), who subsequently handed the organising of the race over to the Topform Athletics Club.

For many it’s a goal race itself, but it’s also the first long run of the year as part of ultra-marathoners’ road to The Two Oceans Ultra-Marathon and/or The Comrades Ultra-Marathon.

The Two Oceans, incidentally, started as a training run for Comrades and has become the biggest sporting event in the Western Cape.

In South Africa, all road running eventually leads to Comrades.

I ran my first Bay to Bay race in 2017. Late bloomer.

It is a tough one, with many rolling hills, and the most amazing views of the Atlantic Ocean, passing through the larnie (affluent) suburbs of Camps Bay, Llandudno, and Hout Bay.

There is also a shorter 15km option, from Hout Bay to Camps Bay. The only reason I don’t do the 15km, is because of the logistical nightmare of having to return to Hout Bay to retrieve my car, or organise an uber, or a lift. It’s just less bother just to run another 15kms. I know. That’s runner’s ‘logic’, which is to say, completely illogical.

Besides the rolling hills, there is the big one. How is it almost every race has a ‘hill’? You know … that hill. The one you dread. The one that bites your tired legs and makes your inner-child weep for your life choices?

On Bay to Bay, that hill is called Suikerbossie.

Translated into English, it’s ‘sugar bush’. Sounds sweet.

It ain’t.

Unless your idea of sweet involves a steady build-up of lactic acid, cramp, and the inability to breath. During the race you go over Suikerbossie twice, while running the 30 km distance.

The first time you run down the hill, from about the 9 km mark, when your legs are nicely warmed up and you have your rhythm!

That down feels so so so good. But the danger here is that you will go down too fast, break your quads, and suffer for the rest of the race. (Personal experience talking here.)

I make a point to ask the race marshals to please save their prayers for me for when I come back up over Suikerbossie. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The 30km race starts on the grounds of Camps Bay High School, at 5.30am in the morning. Most of the time it’s still quite dark. This year, due to load-shedding, there were no streetlights to guide the way from where we parked our cars to the start of the race.

Camps Bay is world-renowned for its beaches: white sand, blue ocean and freezing cold water.

People only go there to pose for pictures or blom as they say on the Cape Flats. Blom means ‘bloom’ or ‘flower’, so to just look pretty and show off, especially one’s outfit.

Only the very brave swim in those waters. Those brave ones are usually cold-adapted, from the North Pole originally, bat-sh*t crazy; or all the above.

I don’t do cold water. On rare occasions the water in Camps Bay will be fit for warm-blooded mammals born without blow holes, but not very often.

These beaches are made for expensive designer swimsuits that will never touch a drop of actual ocean water, and for working on your tan.

(In a safe way, of course. No tan is worth a potentially lethal bout of skin cancer.)

Chucky, Mambi and I got to the start at 4.30 am, just in time to find parking at our clubhouse, The Glen Country Club.

We made our way, in the dark to the high school, along with runners from other clubs. The weather was overcast, and a light drizzle threatened. It was a cool morning, which was excellent. Cool weather is the best for running.

At the high school we did the mandatory queuing for the port-a-loos. My bladder has performance anxiety on every race and insists on phantom number 1s at least 4 times on race day morning.

I had another mission that morning, which was to get a race entry to one of the contenders, Sibu.

I had collected his number at the registration on Friday so I called him to find out where he was. Sibu was coming from Khayelitsha, which is about 50kms from Camps Bay. He was running late, and the race was about to start. I gave his race number to one of his Nedbank Running Club mates and joined the throng of runners at the start.

(Sibu started very late but still managed to finish in 6th position).

I am never quite sure where the race starts, or when I should start my Garmin. But in any event, as a backmarker, happy on the party bus, I was in no hurry.

My last road race was in November 2022, the Landmarks Half Marathon. I hadn’t done a lot of road running, so I was just going to take it easy.

Chucky and I took it slowly. I run like an old diesel truck; I need a long time to warm up before I get going.

The weather was brilliant. The vibe was festive.

Races are like big family reunions. Runners are one big happy family. Every race is a social for me. Running is almost secondary.

I was happy to greet my club mates and friends from other clubs.

Post-covid, it was a joy just to realise people were still alive. We lost a lot of runners during the pandemic. Others are still trying to recover from the emotional and physical scars after having contracted and survived the virus. Some are still struggling to get back to their pre-pandemic fitness levels.

But the important thing is we are alive. We are here. We showed up!

Look how lekker we are running here hey… ‘Suikerbossie moet nog kom, boeta!'(I just heard that in Comfort’s voice in my head!)

Running After Covid

My attitude to running changed after Covid. Before the pandemic I was not enjoying my road running. I was tired all the time. I was training more but struggling to qualify for ultra-marathons.

To qualify for the ultras like Two Oceans 56km and The Comrades Marathon you must run a marathon in under 5hrs or 4h50m, respectively.

For me, that is a big ask.

I am no speedster.

Covid and the cancellation of the remaining race calendar in 2020 and most of 2021, meant the pressure to qualify was off.

Chucky and I continued to run during the hard lockdown. Most runners found a way. Many of my AAC clubmates ran the Two Oceans distance (56km) in their basements, their backyards, even their balconies on the day the race would have taken place.

Many such tales of running heroism abounded in 2020, in defiance of not the lockdown, but the pandemic itself.

Maybe our bodies were in lockdown, but our hearts and our minds were free, and we would run those races we trained so hard for, one way or another.

In a world gone mad, running was the only thing that made sense. That kept us sane.

It’s a sane kind of madness itself.

Runners are, by definition, mad.

What sane person runs miles and miles, day in and day out, year in and year out, with no-one chasing them?

Why Do I Love To Hate Bay 2 Bay?

Bay 2 Bay is the first long race after the Christmas festivities, so people are usually feeling fat, stuffed and lazy after not much running over the holiday season.

In 2019 I had a miserable run. I was aiming for a sub 3h30 finish, but barely came in under 4 hours. I have learnt, since then, that I need to start slowly, and save my legs for the return journey.

In 2020 I didn’t enter the race at all. My Mom had passed in October 2019 and my head was just not there. However, that year the wind blew at gale force and the powers that be cancelled the race.

I remember Chucky and I lying snugly in bed in our holiday accommodation in Gordons Bay that morning, reading the messages coming through our running chat groups, smug in the knowledge that we didn’t wake up at stupid o’clock to run a race that was cancelled.

Of course, there were people who ran it unofficially anyway! (They know who they are.)

Not even the Southeaster can keep a runner from running. We of course, had no idea what 2020 still had in store for us.

In January 2021 there were no races on the calendar. The vaccines had started to roll out, but Two Oceans was a no-go and so was Comrades, although organisers did do virtual runs.

We ran a few of those, including a virtual Bay 2 Bay.

Although not ideal, they provided motivation for us to continue to push through and wait for the crisis to pass; for real life to resume.

People ran in their club colours and I remember feeling emotional seeing people in their club kit. They reminded me of life pre-Covid.

The world had been through hell. We had lost so much in 2020 already, but we always had running, our running mates, our clubs, our other family.

This one thing we would not let Covid take from us.

In 2022, the organising club, Topform Athletics Club, put on a smaller in-person version of the race, but only for the 30 km distance.

Chucky and I entered to support the club, but also because we ran the 2021 Cape Town marathon and the Milkwood half marathon in-person, and realised how much we missed the camaraderie on races.

Not just for the running, but for the gees (vibe) and for the people.

Going into B2B 2022 I had excruciating pain in my feet. I thought it was plantar fasciitis. Turns out the fascia in my calves were super tight.

My physio, Yusuf Gamiet, gave me some great advice, and exercises to do, which loosened the fascia, and I ran a pain-free race.

In fact, I ran the best Bay 2 Bay of my life.

I finished in 3h31. Just a minute over my goal. The morning of the race, I was happy to see some familiar faces, despite the covid-protocol mask mandates but race day vibe was subdued.

There were also no club gazebos at the finish, no happy runners milling around with their medals and their war stories.

Instead, we were handed our medal, our cup of Coke and ushered off the field. It was pandemic normal.

Still, I was happy with my run.

Bay 2 Bay 2022

In Feb 2022, all Covid protocols were lifted.

Running clubs and race organisers scrambled to fill the remaining calendar. Sadly, some races, like Redhill and the Slave Route, remained cancelled.

As I write this, I haven’t entered Redhill. My legs are not keen to run 36kms a week after Bay To Bay. One day when I’m big.

Redhill will be there next year. I hope!

Bay To Bay 2023

I was not as fit as I wanted to be, but I secretly harboured fantasies of breaking the 3h30 barrier. Mach Bay2Bay!

I started slowly. Sensibly. I was not going to try to race this thing. I hope to run the Cango Marathon on 25 Feb, so this would be my long run to prepare for that race.

The Running Gods smiled down on all of us this year.

Despite loadshedding, despite the high cost of living, despite everything, the running community of Cape Town showed up.

The weather was perfect for running.

The Topform Running club marshals and water tables were on point!

I took it easy down Suikerbossie. I was looking out for my Berxik. Her smiling face made my day, especially on my way back up Suikerbossie.

The best part of Bay To Bay is the turnaround, from Suikerbossie you start to see the fast runners on their way back. (The elites pass us way before that even.)

But the fast social runners, friends, club mates, etc, they are running the other way and my greatest enjoyment is to call out to them, to wave.

I am in awe of their speed, their talent, and their agility. And to see their flying legs and smiling faces, spurs me to give it my best.

Below is a gallery of AAC’s speedsters coming up Suikerbossie!

Halfway... 15km to go

I am especially delighted to make it to the halfway mark on this race. I am sure to see Banoe, Dirty Toes, The Pun King, and all the other Topform runners who come out year after year to make this race one of the ones I cannot miss, no matter how bitter Suikerbossie is.

I swear it’s their hugs that powered me up to run a strong second half. I am not sure of my splits. I don’t honestly care. But my legs fresher after halfway. (Ok, not really.)

Chucky, Rifi and Mambi were just behind me and seeing them, made me happy. I was not alone. I was not the only one suffering. And loving it!

This year a special treat was having members of Hewat Athletic Club singing an old Afrikaans ditty, as we started the notorious climb:

‘Suikerbossie Will Jou He

Wat gaan jou Mama daarvan se?’

(Suikerbossie wants you

What will your Mama say?)

My hill up strategy is to run 200 steps, and walk 30 – 50 steps, depending on the incline.

I make a point to thank the marshals for their encouragement, because it’s a thankless job and there would be no race without the marshal volunteers.

I ran a bit with a runner from Nantes Athletic club; I didn’t get his name, but he had music blasting from a boombox which drowned out the nagging aches in my body.

The last 3kms are always the hardest, whether it’s Parkrun or a marathon.

This is the time to vasbyt. “Hold bite” is the English translation, but its one of those wonderfully perfect Afrikaans words that cannot be translated, but it means, to hang in there, hold on, we are nearly there.

Vasbyt time on Bay To Bay comes in the last kilometre when you must climb a mean little hill up to the Maidens Cove finish followed by a steep downhill, which I am always sure I’m going to trip on one of these years.

Then it’s a cruise to the finish, a smile for the cameras (and Uncle Mac!) and a hug from Hillary and Bashe at the finish line. A medal. And a Coke.

I had run 3h24.

Post-Race

Special shout out to Uncle Bapoo, one of the Topform organisers, who arranged for a truckload (literally) of ice lollies to be handed to runners at the finish!

Day. Made.

Special thank you to everyone at Topform Athletics for a truly magical race.

Congratulations to Elzahn who finished her first 30km race. And as stylishly as ever!

Then it was to the clubhouse and the AAC gazebo for coffee and croissants.