“You awake?”

“Huh? Crap, give me 10 minutes!”

Thus began our final race of the Cape Summer Series. As Chad and I waited downstairs, Ryan – suffering the effects of the Cape Town 10s – crawled out of bed, attempting to hold down whatever he consumed the night before and hurriedly threw himself into his running kit. 

With a start time of 7am, to say we were running late would be an understatement, and our mad-cap dash for Grabouw was further hindered by the reserve light in Ryan’s car flashing just outside of Somerset West. When he forgot his pin for the ATM, Chad and I decided to come to terms with the fact that we were going to miss the start.

As I swung Ryan’s car into Oak Valley – he was in no state to drive – we hit the ground running, hydration packs loosely slung over shoulder, caps being crushed onto head and shoelaces being tied in a hysterical dash for a 25km run that was bound to hurt us all.

By the time we had registered and clipped on our numbers the rest of the field was long gone…   

Seen as my partner for AfricanX – the ever-cheerful ‘other Rob’ - had been given a 10 minute head-start, I latched on with Chad and Ryan – Chad was nominated as the pacer for our run – and we made brisk start. So brisk in fact that we took a wrong turn and added an extra kilometre onto our already long run.

It was going to be a hell of a day...

Starting without the rest of the runners was actually a boon as we didn’t get overly excited, which usually happens at the beginning of a race. Hell, we even took a toilet break within the first kilometre, so clearly this trio wasn’t panicking.

Thankfully, while long, the XL route in the final race of the Summer Series was not overly technical nor was there a hellish amount of climbing, so we kept a heady pace over the first 12 kilometres, running single-file, the world’s smallest battalion.

We began to pick up the back markers around this point, one of which who had also gotten herself lost, and began to feel more confident now that we were amongst other competitors. Our fellow wanderer kept pace with us as we picked up another group of runners before hitting the single water-point on the race.

This proved to be the catalyst for finally breaking up our trio.

When nature calls… you answer

I have been told before that you should never try anything new in a race. If you want to try something, do it in training. It doesn’t matter if you bail on a training run, but come unstuck in a race and you could pay the price. So I gingerly took a couple of sips of the energy drink on offer and then made do with what I carried on my back.

Ryan and Chad did the opposite, and while Ryan – who I am now convinced is immune to hangovers and anything else that normal people tend to struggle with – continued unabated, Chad paid the price as the drink seemingly got his innards all aflutter and his bowels moving at the worst possible time.

Our pace-setter, who had done a damn fine job up until that point, was about to be man down. A kilometre from the water-point he admitted he was battling to fight off the call of nature and with each step the urge grew stronger. He hung on gamely, but in the end, he couldn’t keep himself together and had to step into the bushes to answer...

We were now a duo and not a well-matched one at that. Ryan and I carried on, but without Chad to keep him in line, the greyhound in front of me, could not restrain himself and I was forced once again to watch the whippet canter off into the distance and leave me to my own devices.

I have come to terms with the fact that Ryan is on another level to me and could only marvel at his ability to find another gear. I admit, I also hated him a little for it, but hell I am only human after all.

Hitting a wall

We parted ways at the 19 kilometre mark – and if you’re wondering how I can be so sure, it is because by this point I was paying close attention to our mileage – and it was at around 21km that I began to feel my legs tighten up a little and my calves start to cramp.

The heat was also beginning to take its toll and when I saw the finish line pop into view I fervently hoped they had got the distances wrong. But Trail Series events are always spot-on – a 7am start is a 7am start, and a 25km run is a 25km run – and just as I was preparing to saunter towards the finish, I was ushered off in another direction for a further four kilometres.

I died a little inside at that point.

But jeez, I could have been Chad who around this time was lightening the load for a second time as his gut did its best to show him who was running the show. Not long after that, he was vomiting on the trail, probably just happy it was coming out a different end at that point.

So I guess my day could have been a lot worse.

The final kilometres were tough, but I managed to tag onto another runner who offered some friendly words of encouragement in the final stretch and we crossed the line seconds apart.

Ryan crossed three minutes ahead of me, with Chad bringing up the rear - proving that he has heaps of mental fortitude ahead of AfricanX – about 10 minutes behind me.

Oak Valley was the final race in the Summer Series, but there is still plenty to come for our little band of weekend warriors – starting with the AfricanX in March. Keep an eye out for the reports, because with this group, there will be plenty to talk about…

• For more on the Cape Summer Series, visit their website HERE