One would think that after four years of writing about Comrades in the days leading up to it, I wouldn’t have much new stuff to say (I’ve written posts here, here, here and here, among others). And while many of my fears that I wrote about last year echo what I’m feeling now, each race brings new thoughts, fears and philosophies, I guess.
This year, I’ll be starting the race with a slight knee injury, and a big fear that it won’t hold out. I’m also starting with the “scar” of not finishing last year, and my confidence is a little shaky. I always go to the race nervous and scared about the day, but my last experience of the race was one that ended with me getting onto a rescue bus at around 65km, and I can’t shrug off the memory.
It’s not like I’m going in thinking I’m a failure because I didn’t make it one year, but it’s eroded my Comrades running self esteem a bit, and I’m hoping I can get a handle on that.
The good news is that I’m in a really good life space, better than the last two years around Comrades time, and for the first time in more than 13 years, I will have my own supporter on the route, and whatever the outcome on Sunday, I know that there will be big arms to console, congratulate or commiserate.
Last week, towards the end of my run with Jonathan, I captured this shot, and it reminded me of all the kilometres we’ve traversed (probably not enough in my case), of all the early mornings, and this running journey that is so full of sunrises – the physical and the metaphorical. I doubt I will always remember this, but I will try on the day.
Yours in running,
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