The true test of character...

31 - Sani Stagger Marathon, Sani Pass, South Africa, 25 November 2017.

I first came across the Sani Stager Marathon in October 2014. Looking at the elevation profile, I thought it was one of the easiest marathons around. In my mind, all I had to do was run-walk to the top. Once I got to the top, I would fly down to the finish. It was that simple. I could not understand how running down that 'hill' could be difficult. I tried to register for the race at that time, but it was too late. In 2015 and 2016 my attention had shifted elsewhere and I did not even think of the Sani Stagger Marathon. It was also not part of my plans when I put together my “Wishlist” for 2017. It only became part of the “Wishlist” when I decided to drop The Two Countries Marathon from the list. It was an easy choice for me as I had postponed it for too long. I had also heard a few people “The Sani is a must do”, without explaining to what they meant by it is “a must do.”

Sani Stagger Marathon route elevation profile - courtesy of Ashley Cook

After the Athens Marathon. The Authentic, I announced on Facebook that “The 100BEFORE40 train moves on. Next, Sani Stagger Marathon, Underberg KZN.” My fellow Comrade, Ashley Cook, commented on this and said, “see you at Sani.” As innocent as it sounds, I now have a theory of what I think he meant. It is almost as if Ashley was saying “Sure, can't wait. Sani will cut you down to your size boy and show you what running a marathon is about.” Maybe I am being a bit dramatic, and unfair to Ashley, but that is how I feel after “The Sani” showed me flames in the rainy weather.

I arrived in Underberg a few hours before the race on race day. I had planned to get there on Friday evening. However, due to work – and bad planning – I only left Johannesburg around 17h00. I was convinced that I would get there after four hours or so. My planning was based on a completely wrong calculation of the distance and not knowing where I was going. I was convinced that the drive to Durban was way longer than the drive to Underberg. Therefore, in my mind, the drive to Underberg, barring any accidents and/or road closure, would be shorter than the drive to Durban. When I realized that I would not make it to Underberg before 22h00, to collect my race number, panic struck. I had to make a plan to ensure that I had my race number and started the race the following morning. I asked Ashley if he could help and he readily agreed to help. I, however, managed to speak to the race organizers and arranged to collect my race number in the morning. I informed Ashley and his parting shot was “Travel safely. The road is long and treacherous.” He was right. The road into Underberg, after leaving the N3 toll road is treacherous, especially at night and in the rain.

To stay awake as I was driving, I took a double espresso and two bottles of Redbull between 19h00 and 22h00. These helped a lot and I made it to my B & B around 00h30. The race was starting at 06h00 and I had been told to be at the start between 05h00 and 05h30 in order to collect my race number. The double espresso and Redbull were still giving me value for my money when I tried to sleep shortly after arriving at the B & B. I battled to sleep for an hour or so. At 04h00 I was awake. I still had to drive for another 30 or so minutes in the drizzle to the Premier Resort Sani Pass. I had to leave the B & B early and have an extra 30 or so minutes to spare, just in case I got lost. Luckily, there were many other runners driving to the Premier Resort Sani Pass in the morning and I did not get lost.

It rained all night on the eve of the race. By the time I got to Premier Resort Sani Pass, the rainy and cold weather showed no signs of going anywhere. I stayed in the car for as long as possible, but had to go to the start line about 10 minutes before the starting time. There was a very vocal sizeable group of runners lining up at the start. Most of them did not seem nervous of, or bothered by, what lay ahead. These people either knew what lay ahead and had dealt with it before, or were putting up some act of bravery and hiding their real feelings.

The starting gun went off just after 06h00 and off we went in the rain. I started off avoiding water puddles and the mud. I must say I did a good job until about five kilometers into the race. From there on, the mud or water puddles were the least of my worries. The steep hills and the cold were my primary worry. Luckily, I had caught up with Ashley about 20 minutes into the race. He was doing his 4th “Sani”. I stayed with him and we chatted most of the way up. We took short walk breaks every now and then in the beginning. Then the running became breaks from the walking, and eventually – for me – the walking become the order of the day. I lost Ashley around the 19^th kilometer. The climbing, altitude and cold got the better of me at that point. It felt like the half-way point was a few light years away from the start. Every now and then race patrol cars, including the ambulances, would struggle to go up the mountains. I kept hoping that there would not be a need to use the ambulance. I do not know how they would have managed to go up and/or down in an emergency. Luckily, nothing – that I know of – happened.  

After what felt like an eternity, I eventually got to the half way point. It is 2865 meters above sea level. The lowest point being the start at 1556 meters. It was freezing!!! I made the mistake of staying longer than necessary at the half way point. I was playful as usual. I even managed to record a video on my phone. In that process the cold taught me a good lesson. My fingers and toes froze. It took me about 30 minutes to feel my fingers and toes again. I was not wearing gloves, but I doubt if the gloves would have made a difference. I caught up with Comrade Ashley, again, around the 23^rd kilometer. By that time, I was desperate to get to the bottom. I left Ashley behind, but assured him that he would catch me along the way, and I carried on.

Photo by Greg Labuscagne Photography / Ryan Morgan

The climb was bad, and the descent was worse. The rain (drizzle actually) had stopped a few kilometers into the race, but the road was still wet and slippery. As I flew downhill (in the circumstances) trying to make up for lost time, I kept hitting slippery stretches that forced me (and many other people) to walk regularly. I must have focused on all the bad or difficult things because, by the time I reached the half way point, I had already given up on the race. I had already decided that I would not do “The Sani” again. Running is about enjoying the journey, at least for me. It is about absorbing the atmosphere, and conquering your limits. With Sani, the limits seemed unconquerable. It looks like the course was designed to break the record of DNFs (Did Not Finish). It is a standard marathon, with a generous cut-off time of six and half hours, but many people still did not finish on the day. Some were cutoff before even reaching the halfway point. Were it not for my 17 Marathons for 2017 challenge, and the side of me that I am not so proud of, pride – I would have pulled out of the race around the 33^rd kilometer. Fatigue had really caught up with me by that time. I walked for most of the next four kilometers. I had given up on the sub-6-hour finish that I had aimed for as my plan C. I am even embarrassed to talk about what was, and what happened to, plan A and/or B. 

As I was battling to find some motivation, I remembered all sorts of things that I have read about running. First it was John Bingham as I was about to quit. Bingham (No need for Speed: A Beginner's Guide to the Joy of Running) wrote that "The miracle isn't that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start." I thought, "yeah, at least I had the courage to take 'The Sani' heads on." My plan of running Sani two weeks after another marathon and a week before my next marathon had backfired. However, not many would have had the courage to step into the bull-ring. I had stepped into the bull-ring and had to hold on tight to the bull's horns and hope to come out alive. The pain I had to endure to get to the finish seemed like child's play compared to the trauma of a DNF. I would have to wait for a year to get my revenge on "The Sani". Then I remembered the words of Alan Lloyd in his book ‘Marathon, The Story of Civilisations on Collision Course.’ He wrote:

No athlete relies more on sheer determination than the marathon runner, the long-distance specialist. His is the epic test, the ordeal that destroys wind and muscle. When the legs become leaden, his eyes glazed, his lungs bladders of pain within burning ribs, mind alone sustains him in his pursuit. As Philippides struggled west through the harsh mountain passes, his journey increasingly became trial of character.

character is everything...

I asked myself what failing to finish "The Sani" within the cutoff time, or at all, meant. Did it mean that "The Sani" is tough? Did it mean that the weather conditions were unbearable, and my shoes were not best suited for the road conditions? No. Not at least according to Alan Lloyd. The further the race went, and I “struggled […] through the harsh mountain passes, [my] journey increasingly became trial of character.” Therefore, failure to finish race would say a lot about my character. It would mean that I had a weak character (at best) or I had no character at all. Therefore, I soldiered on. I ran the last kilometer up straight and with a smile, hiding all the pain and fatigue. I even managed to share jokes with a couple that ran next to me for most of the last kilometer. I crossed the finish line after 6h08. The Sani had come and gone. It had not killed me, but left me stronger.

As you, or should, know by now, if it is not on Facebook, it did not happen. I documented the ordeal as follows on Facebook:

#100BEFORE40 Marathon 15/17 Marathons for 2017, Sani Stager Marathon, loaded but 😱😱😱. It is the most difficult I have done to date (even my 6h30 at the Katse Dam, Lesotho has nothing on the Sani Stager) The climb to the halfway is atrocious. Then you can’t really run down because it’s too steep, at least for me. The wet conditions made it worse. It was slippery everywhere. But the #100BEFORE40🚅soldiered on. 6h08min after the gun was fired, the #100BEFORE40🚅 crossed the finish line. If a friend invites me to the Sani Stager Marathon, I will know that he/she is trying to set me up for “Chomicide” and flatly turn the invitation down. I have been bitten once and that is good enough😆😆😆 PS - running past immigration without having to worry about passports felt good. DHA is slowly paying back for all the nightmares I have dealt with at the Beitbridge Border Post👌👌👌

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Photo by Greg Labuscagne Photography and Ryan Morgan