Count Down To Comrades

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By Lisa Nevitt

“I have the ability to run 90km.” There, I said it. I am an Ultimate Human. Jog on, mortals.

I can see the end of my Comrades journey; almost taste the GU, smell that dubious marathon smell – you know the one I’m talking about – and hear the crowd cheering my name. I’ve been running for an eternity, I’ve got running coming out of my ear holes, I’ve left no running stone un-trampled.

Four Hills for Lindsay was our last training run, the grand finale. Ending things with a bang, we formed the AAC Choral Society and wrote the kind of hit that will go down in marathon history: Training for the Comrades, Doo-Dah-Doo-Dah. Since, we’ve woken many a normal person, singing from the rooftops at 5am.

Moral is at an all time high because the hard part is, apparently, finito. We’re lighter on our feet in favour of social runs and celebratory breakfasts.

If you ask me, though, all this rest has done is give me more time to think about stuff. What if my flight is delayed? Are there toilets? Power walking on NATIONAL television? With my Hobbit legs? Will I ever live it down?

All that’s needed to quash my anxiety is a reminder of the valuable lessons I have learned on my Comrades journey:

• Motivation: The guy who stayed with me when I was struggling, all the way to the top of Red Hill, and when my boyfriend screamed at me to sprint towards the finish line, seconds away from achieving my marathon seeding time.

• Intuition: Saying yes: to rest when my legs feel wonky, to sleep when I’m physically exhausted and to plenty of food – admittedly, the last part wasn’t hard.

• Advice: Oodles of knowledge and support from my running family.

• Inspiration: Fellow runners have overcome the odds to cross the finish line and are, in my eyes, legends.

• Enjoyment: Beautiful scenery, good company and a sense of achievement.

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