On raging Rhodents and Two Oceans...

The Two Oceans weekend started off with no sleep. Not even an hour. You see, it was the eve of the Easter long weekend, and my preparation for the 4am bus departure was somewhat interrupted by a horde of Crackling consuming naartjie war participants – commonly referred to as Rhodents. When they finally gallivanted out the door to the Rat, I could begin. I hauled out the second largest suitcase I own. The rule is: I will bring along as much as I can carry. And this immaculate 21^st birthday present had wheels. (Good thinking, Mom!) My peaceful and lengthy shower ritual was later interrupted by two Rhodents who had abandoned ship and turned to me for a sober drive home. I am by no means complaining because the ride home in my Toaster was filled with hilarious conversation and silly drunken accidents. By 2am there was no point in going to bed. Needless to say, I missed the whole Garden Route and only emerged from a death-like slumber after half way. The first thing I saw was a GIANT chair and led a group of Rhodes athletes to climb it. We made it:

The giant chair somewhere between Knysna and Cape Town

Me after climbing the chair

The actual race started off on a freezing cold morning. We were up at 4am lacing armpits with deodorant and stomachs with gooey oats. Despite staying about 5km from the start, we ran into a parking disaster. Eventually we settled for an illegal parking on an on-ramp to the highway. Quick photo of Rhodes vests in black bags:

Rhodes athletes at the Two Oceans (trending black bags!)

and off we went to the starting area.

I started right at the very back of E-seeding (which is the back of all backs) with the Malawian twins: Kerry and Tracy – fellow first time Two Oceans half marathoners. With music blaring, I danced to keep warm in my black bag. Then, ready, steady... WAIT...1 minute – we started walking... walking... walking... After the clock ate FIVE MINUTES off my time, I skipped under the starting banner and pushed play on my ‘running songs’ playlist. I know that iPods not actually allowed, but saw it as a safety net and something I was more familiar with than a half marathon race.

It really did not feel like 21km – what with dodging through slow pokes on the road and all the excitement on the side of the road, there wasn’t much time to pay attention to getting tired. Not even the notorious Southern Cross Drive could match my training hills in Grahamstown. What a pleasure! They call it “the most beautiful race” but I didn’t see much of the scenery. I was too focused on passing the set of takkies in front of me. Every now and then a random spectator would identify my iconic purple Rhodes running vest and shout “GO RHODENT!” to which I replied “whoop whoop!!” With about two kilometres to go, my eye caught a sign floating the crowd. It read “Toenails are overrated!” With renewed motivation I kissed my deep red manicured toenails good-bye and raced over the finish line.

The Two Oceans' finish at UCT at around 8h30.

2:22 – Looks poetic on paper and is not bad for beginners I suppose. As I sip warm contents from my Two Oceans mug, I stare at the winding route printed on it. At times like these, one persistent thought never fails to prickle my thoughts: “I can’t wait to do it again next year!”

The results are published in the Cape Argus the day after the Two Oceans. See my name: 

SCHOEMAN, MEGAN   RHODESU   23   F   2:22:54

My race number. This now lives on my bedroom door for inspiration.

The Monument-al hug

As karma would have it, we ran the biggest hill on our list of training routes today – the Monument. It makes me think of that song:

The grand old Duke of York,

He had ten thousand men.

He marched them up to the top of the hill…

And then he marched them down again.

I was just about marching/hiking at some point. I’ve learnt that if you just put your head down and focus on the yellow line, the hill is more bearable.

I actually like the Monument route. It’s scenic, short and rewarding. AND good preparation for the Two Oceans. Have a look at the profile of this race (scroll down and click on image to enlarge). What are those spikey thingies? *gasp*

My calves were quite sore afterwards though. And not burning, but pulling. I tried to give them a good stretch by standing on the edge of the pavement and holding onto the lamp post (which I have now dubbed ‘my’ lamp post for daily stretching). Must remember to ask the HKE experts about stretches on Thursday. *makes mental note to research the importance of stretching* Especially after the podiatrist told me that my calf muscles are too short. (This is excellent for wearing heels, but not so much for takkies and Monument runs.) They actually need to be stretched as often as daily meals – three times religiously.

But the best part of today’s run was the therapy. Who needs happy pills? A good blast of endorphins is simply splendid for emotional uphills – true story. I ran my 10k PB (personal best) on emotional stress. My digsmate often says “Hugs not drugs!” as he heads out the door. And today, the Monument was more of a hug than a hill.  

What's that coming over the hill?

“57335 – yes that’s right. They have received it and you’ve been entered.” THANK THE POPE! For the past two weeks, I have been picturing my Two Oceans re-entry falling off the snail mail donkey cart. For what reason the Two Oceans office wouldn’t allow me to just email it, I do not know. It had to be in by 18 March, and so, I braved the smelly que and pathetic service at the post office, to send it via registered mail – just in case. And now I am regretting the drink I had last night.

I asked Dr Google just how bad alcohol is for exercise and, naturally, he had about 66 900 000 results (in 0.15 seconds). I won’t elaborate on every fact given, but what it comes down to is that alcohol has no nutritional value and way too many calories. I knew that already. More importantly, it negatively affects endurance. As it stimulates blood vessels to dilate, heat loss increases. Therefore, muscles get cold and become slower and weaker during contractions. Furthermore, aerobic capacity, the ability to mobilise fat and recovery capabilities take a knock too.

Shocked realisation: the hill I run up just now is going to be particularly challenging, no matter how loud I blast the music through my iPod. “What’s that coming over the hill? Is it a monster? Is it a monster?” No, it’s Megan on the Tuesday after Cougar Monday.