10 December 2022
Warning
The Ad for this trail run in the Runners World comes with a warning for the 25km race. Put a sign on my head that says ‘Sucker for Punishment’ and put me in the naughty corner.
Should I have listened? Of course! Did I? Of course not!
But is that smile of Roldah Orrie (below) not deceptive? If Roldah is looking that happy, how bad can it be…right?
A Tale Of Two Races
This was a spur-of-the-moment entry. I hadn’t ever heard of the “Om Die Dam” (Around the Dam) trail run in Franschhoek. Not to be confused with the Om Die Dam Ultramarathon around Hartbeespoort Dam up in the Northwest Province.
The latter is a 50km ultramarathon around the Hartbeespoort Dam which is touted to be a beautiful (Ja, by Jo’burg standards) Comrades training run or Comrades qualifier. It’s a road race, and Pretoria’s claim to fame, other than the Blue Bulls. (PROOOOOOVINCE!!)
The trail run Mambi, Chucky and I entered on Saturday was a different race altogether, which was more than a little confusing.
The road race in Hartbeespoort happened earlier this year and is rather well-known. The race we ‘ran’ (yes, I use quotes because I did very little running) last Saturday was in the beautiful town of Franschhoek in the Western Cape, literally on opposite ends of the country.
Franschhoek
This gorgeous town was settled by French Huguenots fleeing the persecution of Protestants in their native France by King Louis XIV, the not-so-sunny-king, unless you were Catholic, in 1685.
It’s undeniably and proudly French in character, with many of the earlier settlers naming their homes and farms after their French provinces back home.
Franschhoek is renowned for its wine and haute cuisine. It is arguably the most cultured town in South Africa. It’s definitely one of the cleanest.
So, it was we found ourselves in Little France, three intrepid runners, hearts set on adventure, at 5.30am Saturday morning.
The Berg River dam is fed by the (you guessed it!) Berg River, with the race route literally running around the dam.
Of course, the course we chose to enter included some hill up. (Hills are the fun part. No really!)
Warning be damned, we nevertheless took on the challenge of the 25km with its cliff edges and amazing views. The whole reason mountains exist, is for the view.
Registration
Only 60 people entered the 25km challenge, including The Three Amigos (that would be us).
At race registration we ran into AAC speedster, Roy, whose dust we looked forward to eating. But we caught him long enough to take a pic. Thanks Roy, you legend!
Race Briefing
The vibe was light-hearted and chilled as Andrew briefed us on the route, water table locations etc and called me out for not uploaded the gpx file to my phone or watch.
Later, when we totally ignored (because we were in the middle of a fat gossip) the race marshal directing us towards the 25km route where it split from the 15km route, I would come to regret my cheekiness. But don’t tell Andrew that!
The wind outside the marquee tent gusted ominously. But as the sun beat down upon us later that morning and the humidity ratcheted up the mercury, I appreciated the breezy relief from God’s own aircon.
The race got off to a pretty exciting start for Mambi and I. Andrew asked us to start the race by running towards a puppy. When we got to the puppy, the rest of the competitors could start running. We must have looked slow enough to need a handicap.
Nevertheless, off we went, and 50m later the other competitors got going. Since Mambi would be speedwalking anyway and I would wait for Chucky to catch up, we quickly moved to the side of the trail to allow the other runners to pass. My momma taught me manners and ish.
By 5km we would be dead last, but in a field of 60 that was OK. I remember the trail running term I learned just last week (DFL – Dead Freakin’ Last) – that’s what we were. But we were cool with it, we didn’t really care. We came to check out the route and see how much fun we could have in the Cape winelands!
At the first watertable the 25km claimed its first casualty. Trail running by nature is riskier than road running because of the uneven terrain, especially those sniper rocks! One young lady twisted her ankle badly and bailed at the 4km mark.
Uh-Oh!
By 5km, round about the time we crossed the Berg River, I realised I wasn’t feeling myself either.
My heartrate was too high and I felt suddenly tired, even though we were only 5km in. Sometimes this happens when my iron is low. I had not been conscientious about taking my iron supplement that week, but I took two the day before and one the morning of the run, so should have felt OK.
But I had a bad night, getting maybe two hours sleep. Sometimes that happens too. I knew I was tired. I even had a Redbull in the car, which I never drank. I am wary of energy drinks at the best of times.
In retrospect, that was a good decision. While I waited for Mambi to wade across the calf-deep water of the Berg River, it occurred to me that I was on a course of antibiotics for a gum infection.
Even when I was taking the antibiotic at 5am that morning, it never crossed my mind that running a 25km trail run may be a big ask for my body, still traumatised from UTCT two weeks ago and now fighting an infection.
I decided I would walk it.
My legs felt as if they had 15km on them, not 5. I was hungry, which was unusual for me. I am not an eater on a race.
Although I had forced down a slice of white bread with peanut butter and syrup for breakfast, my stomach gnawed with hunger. I munched on a revoltingly sweet fast bar. I needed to eat. Chew. Swallow. Don’t gag.
I felt disappointed. I had looked forward to running around the dam. But I was panting while I walked. I have a family history of heart disease so I’m always a little paranoid when my heart beats 100 miles a minute. If I die, how blessed to die doing what I love. But… does my husband know all my pin codes?
The stuff I worry about on my hypothetical death-bed…?
We hooked up with another agteros (back, okay, wayyyyyyy back-marker) Natasha at the river, and she pretty much made up our Awesome Foursome for the remainder of the trail.
Like us, Natasha had also run the UTCT35 and was ‘just here for the views’ aka too lazy/tired/crazy (all of the above) to pretend we are running this, man.
Even when we missed the 25km marker to go over the mountain, misreading the race marshal’s signs, and ended up on the 15km trail, we doubled back with our lovely sweeper, Andy (not to be confused with Andrew of the race briefing) determined to finish the distance we entered.
I love hills. But I struggled. At one point I regretted not downgrading to the 15km. I slipped twice, falling flat on my bum at least once. My heartrate was ridiculously high for someone who was basically hiking, albeit uphill.
Could it be the antibiotics?
Do Antibiotics Affect Your Running Performance?
I don’t know if it was the antibiotics that accelerated my heartrate or if it was the lack of sleep or accummulated tiredness from a fantastic last couple of months running and hiking. Probably a combination of the above.
I accept full responsibility for my actions. I’m not a superfit athletic machine. I’m not particularly genetically gifted in the running department. I’m out to have fun. And that is what kept me going.
I couldn’t push my body further than it could go. That peak was hard for me to hike. At least 3 times I had to stop to catch my breath, doubling over, exhausted.
Was I just tired? Yes. It’s Monday and I’m still tired. When I woke up Sunday morning, I felt like I had been hit by an angry cement mixer.
I managed to do a short hike in Newlands Forest Sunday morning… hair of the dog, etc etc… But this week I do plan to rest and do as little as possible formal physical activity.
Moral of the story
Mambi and I, in between our gossips, discussed my fatigue. As true friends do, she checked up on me constantly, asked me how I felt, how I was doing, did I want to take a break.
We non-medical professionals theorised that the antibiotic I was taking could be partially or wholly responsible for my feeling this way.
Later I consulted Dr. Google. (Disclaimer: Please do not do this. Consult a medical professional and do not self-diagnose. Do as I say, don’t do as I do!)
After reading a few articles, which I cite below, I probably should not have run at all on Saturday. It was a perfect storm for me to blow the race.
As someone who leads a relatively active lifestyle, you would think I would know my body’s signals. Am I so used to ignoring my body’s fatigue… telling myself, ‘ag just do it, you’ll be fine’ each and every time. Promising myself to take some rest, sleep. Sleep.
What is that line in Macbeth?
‘Sleep that knits the ravelled sleave of care’…
(After being prescribed Macbeth in Grade 9 and Grade 11 setwork, this is the only line I remember besides ‘bubble bubble toil and trouble’ :D)
I need to sleep more. Proper sleep. Not a nap here and a snooze there.
I should have told the dentist who prescribed the antibiotic for the gum infection I would be running a race. My bad!
I know I am not supposed to train if I have the flu. But this wasn’t the flu. I felt fine. Other than being sleep-deprived, and who isn’t these days, seriously?
I underestimated how the antibiotic would affect me.
It was also hot and humid and according to Dr Google, training while on antibiotics could leave you more dehydrated than usual.
I was feeling the heat a bit more than usual, and I am heat-sensitive at the best of times.
Update: Came from the dentist and told her what happened. She asked me if she had told me not to exercise, would I have not run the race.
I said… I would have just walked from the start. She had a sense of humour, so she didn’t accidentally stick the needle in the wrong place.
Silver Lining
But it was not all bad. In fact, it turned out to be a great morning out.
Mambi and I used the opportunity to catch up with our gossips. We admired the view. We played in the river. Literally. And posed for pictures.
We had 3 more water tables after the peak; I could have bailed at any time. I chose not to. I could walk to the finish.
The sweep Andy was fantastically patient with us. The marshals were amazing.
At the finish Mambi and I both crawled across the line, doing a Jenna. The organisers welcomed us as if we had won. Even the prize-giving was over but there were cold drinks and warm congratulations.
It was a terrific day to be outdoors. The views alone were worth it. It’s a route I would like to hike properly in the very near future.
And I was starving! I needed food. (Later we woud consume two pizzas and two salads between us!)
The organisers were so kind to us, welcoming us DFL-ers in although I’m sure they were secretly relieved. It had been a longer day for them, I’m sure.
It took us just under 5 hours to walk the course. I will take it. And next year, I’m sure we’ll be back.
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