"Mixed...." always read the fine print.

25 - Knysna Forest Marathon, Knysna, South Africa - 15 July 2017

I missed the 2017 Comrades Marathon, because of three bucket list races that I wanted to run in June and July. I ran the Victoria Falls Marathon and completely enjoyed it. I missed the Big Five Marathon because of witchcraft. I blame witchcraft, because there is nothing else that can make a person prepare for a race for seven months, travel for about 400km and their car break down 13km away from the start line some 30 minutes before the race starts. That is what happened to me. This cannot be a miracle. It has to be witchcraft. As if this was not enough, I was not able to run the third bucket list marathon, the Mauritius Marathon, because of a very unhealthy bank  account balance.

After realizing (more like accepting) that the Mauritius Marathon was going to set me on a collision course with Agatha, because of the cost, I decided to abandon it. I had sold the Mauritius Marathon to her as an away time for the two of us, "Solo naMutsai" style. But as the race date drew closer, the gap in the budget kept widening. I had two choices; go alone, or abandon the whole thing. Going alone was not really a choice. Agatha would not allow that. I had to quickly find an alternative race. I settled for the Knysna Forest Marathon. 

I heard that it was brilliant race as it was part of the Knysna Oyster Festival. I did not waste time and got the planning going. I decided to travel by bus and get there a day before the race. I would then spend the Friday resting and enjoying whatever was left of the Knysna Oyster Festival. Saturday was race and traveling back home day. If I could pull this off, I would have replaced my bucket list Mauritius Marathon at a fraction of the cost. I would then be able to squeeze in another marathon later in the year. It was a perfect plan, but not an easy one. For some just the one-way bus trip is daunting. Add running a marathon and the return bus trip to that; they would never do it. But, no pain, no gain. 

Two days after registering for the race, Knysna was on fire. There were huge runaway fires that engulfed the town. I followed the ordeal closely, sympathizing with the victims of the fire and worrying that the festival (and the race) would be cancelled. I could not imagine the festival going ahead when there were so many people in need of aid. To me the festival money could go a long way in helping them. This was just me panicking. The organizers confirmed that the festival would go ahead and proceeds from the festival would be used to assist the victims of the fire.

Due to the fires and the festival, accommodation in Knysna became a problem. A lot of lodges, guesthouses, backpackers' lodges you name them, were affected by the fires. Some were burnt down and had to cancel bookings. I had a choice of paying more than R1500/night for places close to Plettenberg Bay, more than 30km from Knysna or secure a bed in a dormitory at a backpackers’ lodge that was less than a kilometer from the finish line of the race. I had never really done this backpacking thing before and decided to give it a go. It later turned out to be quite an experience, but more about that later.

I left Johannesburg on Thursday afternoon. The bus trip was uneventful and longer than I had anticipated. Most of it was at night and there was nothing to write home about. I had never set foot in Knysna, but I had driven past it in a bus in 2015. I remember the lush green bushes and forests at that time. This time around, the forests were largely black and/or grey. The fires had done a lot of damage. But Knysna was still there. The people, at least the ones I met and talked to, showed signs of resilience and were moving on.

After registering and collecting my race number, I decided to walk around town to stretch my legs a bit. I bumped into the Navy (or was it the Marines) Parade, listened to the Mayor's speech and watched a kids' brass band perform. I did a lot of carbo-loading in between as well. Then the mini tour was done and it was time to check-inn at the backpackers’ lodge. When I booked, I saw something about “mixed” etc., but did not pay attention to it. I only realized what this was about when I was led to my bed. The bed next to mine had what looked like ladies' bikinis or  bras lying on top. Oh boy!!! What had I done. A whole grown up man sharing a dorm with ladies that he does not know. A quick glance around showed that the other beds on the other side of the passage were occupied by men and women. I pretended that I was used to this and knew that it was a mixed dormitory when I booked. Just to cope, I spent most of my time away from the lodge. When I was at the lodge, I hung around the lounge or the common areas. By the time I went up to sleep, all the ladies were back. They were two young ladies (university students) and one elderly lady. The adjacent room had five men and two ladies. There was no possibility of a swap, so I went with flow. Luckily, the ladies turned out to be nice people. We chatted about the festival and the race. They were all running the half marathon. I got a lot of respect in the room, because I was running the marathon. Then our noise neighbors came back. They spoke on top of their voices and seemed to be having value for money. After an hour or so of excitement, around 22h30 the lights went off and they all slept. I struggled to sleep a bit and only slept an hour later. 

At 02h45 my alarm went off and I was up without hesitation. I had to get to the forest early. I wanted the whole experience. I wanted to get the blanket, coffee, rusks, fruits, stand around the fire and use the portaloo in the forest, all of it. I got to the forest two hours before the race starting time and got the blanket. The blanket turned out to be a life saver. It was freezing in the forest. I saw a guy nicely tucked into his blanket sleeping. I decided to give the sleeping a try after having my hot chocolate. Surprisingly, I managed to sleep in the cold and noise for almost an hour.

I woke up around 06h30. I went to the loo and headed to the start line after that. After a few warnings, not to stray into the forest, but feel free to use the bushes whenever nature called, the start gun went off. The first 12 or so kilometers of the race are a gentle climb. I had to deal with the climb and my frozen toes for the first two kilometers. As soon as I had warmed up, I increased the speed a bit and got going. The tree canopy was beautiful and was complemented the jovial atmosphere. Then the very steep ups and downs came. It was tough running either way. Around 33km I had had enough. I started having longer walk breaks. I walked 90% of the hills. The longest one was almost two and half kilometers long. I mean, who puts that kind of a hill in the last few kilometers of the race!!! Going up this hill was so difficult. It made going up Polly Shorts at the Comrades Marathon seem like a walk in the park.

As we got out of the forest, we entered the Simola Golf & Country Estate. A very beautiful Estate. I must have bought and sold two or three houses (in my mind) by the time I exited the Estate. Once again, I could not help but notice the destruction from the fires. Some houses were burnt to the ground. Thinking about the fires and the many lives affected by the fires was a welcome distraction from the hard very steep inclines. By the time I came out of this slumber, I only had 3km to go. I was way behind my targeted finishing time.

By the time I crossed the finish line (after 4h47) I was more than 30 minutes late, but I had done it again. Another marathon had fallen. I was one step closer to 100 marathons before 40. After collecting my medal, I quickly rushed to the lodge. My dorm mates had completed their half marathon ages ago. I got a big welcome back, you are our hero etc. It turned out they were all novices and had just completed their first half marathon. To them the full marathon still looked or felt like an impossible mission. 

Traveling back soon after the marathon turned out to be a good idea. I slept most of the way
on the bus due to exhaustion. After nineteen hours, I was home and already planning the Mandela Day Marathon trip.

As you, or should, know by now, if it is it not on Facebook, it did not happen like Ellen Tshabalala's UNISA degree or Paulo Jordaan's PHD. I documented my race on Facebook as follows:

#100BEFORE40, Marathon 9/17 Marathons for 2017, Knysna Forest Marathon, has fallen. As usual, I arrived at the start line, had fun (largely), suffered on the big hills in the forest and conquered in the end.

I arrived early for the Knysna Forest Marathon ritual. The momentum blankets handed out as you enter the forest. The blanket saved me. It was freezing in the woods before the start of the race. Despite the blanket, I couldn't feel my frozen toes for a good 2km.

Then the dirt or gravel road claimed a number of casualties. A lot kept knocking stones on the road and falling. I also had a near miss, but I was quick to "break the fall”

Great views all round, but the recent fires really did some damage. I hope Knysna will rise again. Great festive spirits at the finish.

That having been said and done, Mandela Day Marathon here comes the #100BEFORE40 train.