Written by Emily Schmidt - https://www.facebook.com/MyComradesMarathonExperience?ref=bookmarks

Comrades 2013 Up Run – Novice Report (10:56:45 Bronze Medal Finish)

As I've been relaxing by the pool in Zambia, I thought I'd start writing my blog of the day before I forget too much of all the different things that happened along the way.

I'll start by summarising the event as a whole because all the post-race talk was about how the conditions this year were exceptional (some said it had not been like this in the last 10-20yrs they had been running it, and I also heard that the weather hadn't been this bad since 1957).

Even though Comrades is held during the winter in SA, Durban still does not get that cold and so you expect it to be warm after reading that during the day temperatures tend to average 25°C (apparently, it has only rained twice - this year the rainy, overcast day was 24hrs too late!). In the week before, the forecast was that it was going to be a hot year - I read in the newspaper afterwards that it was 30°C and the hottest since 2003. However, when I was looking at the weather beforehand, I noticed that rather strong winds were forecast. I found out that in Durban they have something called the Bergwind (10-100km/hr hot winds coming off the mountains), but there was no talk of this before the race...come race day, just after half way when we had climbed ~700m the strong, warm dusty wind hit us along Harrison (not so) flats for the next 20km as we made our way to the highest point of the route at Umlaas Road.

With these conditions I found it hard to know how much to drink. I always drink to thirst as I haven't done any long enough or hot enough events where dehydration could get so severe that it could stop me being able to run. But well before half way I was wanting to drink at most aid stations (and sometimes inbetween!). Considering the aid stations are only ~2km apart, this seemed a lot to me. So then I started worrying about drinking too much, which is worse than not drinking enough (as you can die) but has the same symptoms as dehydration. The wind made it worse because within a minute or so of having a drink, your mouth was horribly dry again. If it wasn't so windy, even with the heat, I think maybe I wouldn't have wanted to drink so much as cooling your body externally with water would have been enough. At many points along the route locals had hosepipes out on the road, continually spraying the hundreds of runners as we passed. Towards the end, one aid station I passed had run out of water (still had energy drinks). Unfortunately, after the race I heard that many aid stations ran out of water for those runners further back than me.

This now brings me to the 'dramatic' stats of Comrades 2013:
- of the 18 000 that entered, ~14 000 collected their number and toed the start line
- just over 10 000 finished (4000 DNFs is the highest ever, and double that of last year)
- the rescue buses were full by the last cut-off at the top of Polly Shortts with 8km to go, and people had to walk to the finish (I spoke to someone afterwards who unfortunately missed the 2nd to last cut-off at Umlaas Road (70km), and realised that the 100's of people on the roadside weren't in fact spectators but other runners waiting for the rescue bus).
- the finishing times of the whole field were shifted; some male silver medalists (sub 7hrs 30mins) finished with female gold medalists (top 10), there was the lowest ever number of silver medals (250-300 I think, half of previous years), and they ran out of vic clapham medals to hand out (12hr final cut-off).

Media Release: CMA Medical Statistics for 2013 Race Day
The exceptionally hot weather on Race Day - Sunday, 2 June - necessitated the quick response of theComradesMarathonAssociation’s (CMA) Medical Team in treating runners requiring medical assistance.

Chief Medic, Dr Jeremy Boulter has issued the medical statistics, saying, ‘The unusually high temperature combined with an abnormally strongwind resulted in a large number of patients at the Medical Tents. However, the good news is that the medical team was fully equipped to handle the workload and all runners were treated or referred to hospital for immediate care.’

833 runners were treated at the Finish Venue at the Pietermaritzburg Cricket Oval; 366 were attended to at the main Medical Tent while 427 sought R&R, rub-downs and mild treatment at the St. John’s Tent. The majority of the patients were treated for dehydration and exhaustion.

35 patients were treated at Durban’s St. Augustine’s Hospital while 61 patients were treated at Pietermaritzburg’s St. Anne’s Hospital. Of these, four patients were admitted to the ICU at St. Annes Hospital while one patient was admitted to the Medi-Clinic.

Dr Boulter has confirmed that two of the five ICU patients have in the meantime been discharged. The rest are making a good recovery.

The CMA has over the years, implemented extensive medical, emergency, first aid and physiotherapy provisions for its thousands of participants. The Comrades Marathon’s medical provisions for Race Day have been described as ‘possibly the world’s largest temporary medical facility outside of a conflict zone’.

Dr Boulter says, ‘The main Medical Tent usually sees an average of 250 patients on Race Day but this year was different and more demanding in that we attended to 68% more patients. However, the team was equal to the task and all runners needing assistance found themselves in safe hands.’
***ENDS***
Statement issued by the CMA Media Officer, Delaine Cools on Tuesday, 4 June 2013

Now I'll take you through my Comrades experience, and what an experience it was - I'm not sure that I'll be able to explain how amazing it was (you'll just have to do it yourself), but here goes...

Checking into my hotel I was informed that breakfast on Comrades day would be from 3AM - great! Not so great was that they didn't seem to be able to book a taxi for me at 4:15AM. I didn't quite understand as the hotel was full of runners, but reception just shrugged their shoulders. So I asked all the different staff as I came and went over the next couple of days, and finally one of them made a phone call and apparently a taxi was booked for me. I wasn't completely confident in this, but as there were so many runners around I just thought I'd have to walk with them if it came to it (~40mins on my feet that I could do without before the run).

Through the runners world forum I knew that another UK runner was staying at my hotel - we arranged to meet for this 'taxi' at 4AM (race starts at 5:30 and it is recommended you are there around 4:30, and in your pen by 5 at the latest). So I set 3 alarms for 3AM to give me plenty of time to get ready (vaseline and suncream - factor 50 worked a treat!) and have breakfast. There was no need for the alarms really as I was awake from about 2AM with excitement (I went to bed early, but don't think I fell asleep until sometime after 10:30PM).

For me, breakfast was when the Comrades atmosphere really started - everyone kitted out ready and, having a blue number as an international runner, that was when everyone started welcoming me to SA and telling me to take it slow and walk early on. I was good at breakfast (nothing new on race day!) and even though there were pancake and full english options, I stuck to toast and jam. Incidentally, I read that Bruce Fordyce (9 times winner) said that he didn't have breakfast before comrades as he ran fast enough to finish in time for brunch, ha.

You'll never believe it, but when I met the other UK runner in reception, our taxi was there waiting. We were dropped off one block from the start where plenty of other runners were making their way down the street. Already people were sat in the start pens. So I went to the toilet (only a 4 person queue at the time) which had paper so I donated the roll I had bought with me from the hotel, and went to join the people sat in pen F (4hrs-4hrs 20mins marathon qualifier). What I liked was that you could drop your finish bag at the expo the day before, so no rushing around looking for the baggage trucks. I was sat in the pen from about 4:40, so don't know if there was any panic with people unable to get in. For me it was all very calm with people sat quietly. It was also rather warm, and I didn't really need the jacket I had with me.

Just after 5 everyone stood up as they removed the tape between the pens and we all squashed forward. At this point I thought I had better turn on my garmin so that I didn't forget - it took a bit of time to find satellites, but the street was quite open so it got there in the end (I didn't use the heart rate monitor for fear of chaffing). I also had a banana that I picked up at breakfast.

Then just after 5:15 the SA national anthem was played (which everyone around me joined in), followed by shosholoza (quoted as the 2nd/unofficial anthem of SA). Next up, chariots of fire, and by now the atmosphere was amazing - standing in the dark with 1000's of others contemplating the 87km that lay ahead (but trying not to think about it at the same time). Finally, after >6 months of training, it was Comrades day! I think the reason they play chariots of fire before the gun is that it can go on and on and on until exactly the right time. At exactly 5:30 Max Trimborn's cockerel crow and bang the gun starts Comrades 2013...I press start on my garmin and we stay where we are. Slowly we creep forward, and I think after ~4 1/2 mins I crossed the start line (blinded by the floodlights).

You start by running through the streets of Durban, but within a couple of km you are steadily climbing out of town. The atmosphere in the dark is great - lots of supporters even before 6AM, particularly along the bridges that pass over the road we are running along. The high-pitched shrieking/hollering sound that the SA make really made it feel like a party/carnival.

Most people around me didn't seem to go out too fast and I was running at 6:30-7mins/km (on target) near the 11hr bus. It was incredibly humid and I felt like I was sweating as I do in a bikram yoga class. I was also thinking I would sweat away all the factor 50 sun cream, but thankfully by the end I wasn't pink at all.

Even though I had been warned before and during the run about the catseyes in the middle of the road, I still managed to have a few near misses catching my feet on them (both in the dark and later on). Steadily I pulled away from the 11hr bus, but I thought this would be OK as I wasn't running quicker than 6:30/km. I also made sure I walked early (from about 3km), but the climbs along the highway out of Durban made it very easy to remember and be disciplined in doing this.

In the first 5-10km I met many other UK runners - all of which I hadn't met before either on the runners world forum or at the expo. One even lives down the road from me, which made 3 of us there running who live within a couple of mins walk from Turnham Green Church. I distinctly remember the 1st water station as it was carnage. We had been warned and so I was carrying a water bottle. At this point it still wasn't light, so as this was also a TV point we again got blinded by floodlights. Here, I started to need the toilet and noticed some girls coming out of the bushes (blokes had been going at the side of the road right from the start). By the time I found some suitable bushes, the sun had risen and it was light. Crouching in the bushes I realised that the bushes were not quite so suitable after all, as I watched everyone running past (oops, nevermind).

All the other runners were really friendly the whole way - welcoming me to SA. Everyone knows that you are an international runner as our numbers are blue, and you wear a number on both the front and back. I also had a union jack on both the front and back of my vest. I particularly remember one guy pointing to a specific tree and telling me it was '50 miles from that tree there'. I also got many comments like 'when are you opening your tuck shop' and 'how much for a gu' as I was carrying 7 gels and 2 packs of shot bloks. I still think I had the last laugh as this meant that I took on energy (gu) after ~1 1/2 hrs and at least every hour after that, whereas the food did not appear at aid stations until just before halfway.

One SA guys decided to run with me for ages (over 10km). He was from a northwestern province and so said he wasn't used to the heat either. At each water station he would drown himself in water and bring water for me (which in return I gave him the end of my gu - how generous, haha). Occasionally he would disappear for a while and then he would be back again. Also, he was amazed when I explained how difficult it was to get into the London marathon.

Running with my new friend took my mind off getting a migraine at ~21km. I usually take paracetamol and codeine when I first get the visual disturbance. But even though I had them with me, I decided not to take them because of all the advise against taking painkillers during comrades. I had a bit of a headache (which could have also been due to the heat and humidity), however from what I remember it had gone by half way. I also sometimes get the visual disturbance without a headache when I am wound up/stressed about something, so it could have been due to a release of all the comrades hype.

Now onto the hills, as 3 of the big 5 come in the 1st half, and this is what Comrades is known for. Incidentally, yes there are many other unnamed hills, which everyone running could easily think of a name or two for. I think they classify hills by how long they go on for, not necessarily the gradient/incline. They are right, I can barely remember Cowies (1st), other than I think this was whenI had to put my sunglasses on. Fields Hill (2nd) I remember because as well as being steep, long and winding, the camber of the road was terrible for running up. I think the worst hill for me was Bothas (3rd) - thinking about it, it is probably the steepest (but not the longest), you know it is the last of the big hills in the 1st half (all of which you have to run-walk), and you know that you are allowed to walk the remaining 2 hills in the 2nd half.

During the 1st half it was a bit surreal as we passed through a place called Westville, and many people were wearing westville running club vests - the 'westville' shouts of support really sounded like 'west 4' (runners in west london will understand, for others; west 4 is another club near where I live).

Just before half way (~39km I think) I needed the toilet again - great! I must be drinking enough. Not so great is that I didn't need the toilet again until 10PM that night - I was a little worried as heard that I should go to hospital for my kidneys if I don't go for 24hrs. There were 2 portaloos nearby, so I was good this time. Although, I chose them as only one person was waiting, but the people in there took forever! oh well, a nice gu and water break for me.

Arthur's seat is just before the half way point. This is where Arthur Newton (early, 5 times winner) used to rest during long training runs to look over the valley of 1000 hills. Legend has it that if a runner greets Arthur and places a flower on his seat, they will have a good 2nd half. You also hear that further down the field it becomes difficult to find a flower - some bring one with them pinned to their vest. This year we did not need to worry as the sponsored aid station just before this point was handing out roses, and there were plenty to go around. So along with everyone else, as I passed this point I said 'good morning arthur' and left my flower.

On the bus tour, we were told that a few corners on the decent into Drummond (half way) are a good point to tidy yourself up for the cameras - I was in no mood for this. On each ~10km split I had not made up the lost time from passing over the start line later, furthermore I had lost more time. This meant that I passed through half way in 5hrs 11mins (11mins behind the Don Oliver bronze schedule and 19mins ahead of the 12hr finish schedule), and didn't really notice much about me except making sure I took some water for the 4th hill (Inchanga) that was straight in front of me. My tummy had also started to rumble (this hasn't happened to me before) so I was on the look out for some food to keep the hunger at bay.

The longest hill, Inchanga, is immediately after half way at Drummond, and everyone (in my part of the field) walks this hill (4th). I had now resided myself to the fact that I wasn't going to make sub-11hrs (bronze medal), and so was going for plan B; a finish (sub-12hrs) - as I was behind on the recommended bronze medal timing, could most definitely feel I had already run just over a marathon for the last 5hrs and so was not going to make up time, but only get slower. I wasn't feeling too down though as despite the timings I was enjoying everything about the day so far, and had even managed to get hold of some biscuits for my rumbling tummy (awfully dry to eat whilst on a run, but a nice coconut flavour).

It was therefore at this point that I had the 1st chance to get out my camera, and I had a go at a little video diary. I was enjoying the walk up Inchanga, admiring the view and trying to recover as much as possible so that I felt good to carry on running from the top. Then there were lots of people around me, and I saw it was the 11hr bus - THANK YOU SIR ARHTUR NEWTON (that's what I reckon anyway). Normally, when you are caught by pacers in a race it is really demoralising as it means you are off your goal pace and therefore struggling, hence you don't usually manage to stay with them either. But this was different. This suggested I wasn't off my goal pace (I had forgotten Don Oliver's safe bronze paces were for a 10:45 finish). And yes I hurt a bit, but I wasn't struggling. This was my 2nd chance. I HAD TO STAY WITH THEM to achieve my dream goal. I was well aware that sometimes buses don't make their times (apparently, a 9hr bus was late and the original driver bailed at 21km or something). But I had to give it a go.

The 2nd half as part of the bus is all a bit of a blur. I stuck with my 10km cards and just focused on staying with the bus for one 10km at a time. Sometimes I would be up to 5-10m off the back if I was having a bad patch, other times I would be up at the front with the drivers. The bus definitely helped me in terms of running in that strong wind I mentioned before (which had blown over most of the km to go boards) - I tried to stay in the middle of the pack, shielded as much as possible. I heard that some people don't like buses because of all the singing etc., I don't know if it was the drivers we had or the conditions but this bus suited me - everyone was still friendly and occasionally chatting (particularly to me with my blue international number), but the atmosphere also seemed like 'we were there to do a job (sub-11hr finish) and we will get it done'.

A lot of the time whist we were running it was just the rhythmic sound of (shuffling) feet, and then everyone would clap and cheer in a congratulatory way (that we had made it another 1-2km) when we slowed to walk for a bit. The driver would count down (3-2-1 or 1-2-3 in another language) when we were about to start running again or slow to a walk. We also had to keep putting our arms in the air every so often (I think to relax?), and he kept reminding us to relax when running difficult parts (i.e. hills). It was definitely a group effort and everyone would pass spare water etc. around between aid stations if you needed it/missed it (the guys helping the driver would come back with their caps full of water sachets).

I found the 10km that was from 40k to 30k to go and the 10km that was from 30k to 20k to go, the toughest. These were definitely the 'head down' and stick with the bus 'for at least 10km more' part. The ups and downs/peaks and troughs come and go so quickly and for no apparent reason. I tried to enjoy the highs of the ups as much as possible, and just ride-out the downs (it is true, they do go eventually). One down I distinctly remember was loosing my shoe. In the bus people run very close together and I had my shoes looser as my feet would swell, and I didn't want any of the trouble I get with bruising when I tighten them too much. The guy who trod on my heel did apologise, but just carried on. Another runner, however, stopped and let me lean on him to put my shoe back on. I also tried the salted potatoes a couple of times - if it wasn't overly salty I enjoyed it, but some bites were too salty for my liking. I got a bit disorientated and thought that I had missed the ethembeni school for the physically disabled and visually impaired. But then out of the blue, there they were waving some flags I had left the day before. High 5ing the long line of children really spurred you on and gave you some energy.

With ~21km to go (a half marathon) I started to feel much better - I started to have a cup of pepsi at some aid stations (I don't usually drink caffeine so I think this really perked me up, plus I find the fizz thirst-quenching). However, I still didn't want to feel over-confident and kept reminding myself that there was still a long way to go in which anything could suddenly start hurting enough to make moving forward very difficult. During this time I found myself really looking forward to Polly Shortts (final hill with ~10km to go), as again you are allowed to walk the whole way up (even the front runners do) and at the top is the final cut-off with 'just/only' ~8km to the finish (downhill!).

Spirits seemed high as we walked up Polly Shortts (except the guy that I asked if the double marathon had warmed him up enough for a parkrun, who was not amused). At this point I had time to do another little video diary, and I also walked most of it with the other UK runner staying at my hotel who I had last seen outside the toilets at the start (he too finished in under 11hrs for a bronze medal, that he received lying on a stretcher thanks to badly cramping legs - which earned him a photo in the paper the next day). A rescue bus also passed us on Polly Shortts - everyone was waving it passed, telling the driver it wasn't wanted/welcome here. It had a sign saying FULL anyway, and the people inside were very encouraging cheering us on.

I was surprised that I could manage ~10min/mile (6min/km) during the final few km (admittedly downhill). There was talk of whether the bus would make the 11hr cut-off, as we still frequently stopped to walk. But the drivers were confident - telling us that 11hrs was 'a piece of cake' and kept shouting 'easy, easy' to slow us down as we would get carried away. I decided not to leave the bus, as on my own anything could happen in that final few km. Plus the bus was my experience of Comrades and so crossing the line with them would round it off (even if I don't get my solo photo as Bruce Fordyce has pointed out).

We walked with 3km, 2km and 1km to go (there are a few small hills in Pietermaritzburg) and I think twice more before entering the stadium (cricket oval). The drivers got everyone chanting 'easy, easy' as we were comfortably under 11hrs. I think coming in with the bus meant the atmosphere was even louder (the cut-offs get hyped up by the commentator). It was so loud - everyone was cheering and banging on the paneling. You 'parade' around ~3/4 of the cricket pitch and go right by the international tent before reaching the finish.

10:56:44 and it's over (the bus driver and his aids celebrated for the cameras at the end). You get a medal put around your neck, someone in a suit shakes your hand to congratulate you and you get a (sew on) badge and certificate with your rough time stamped on. I forgot to kiss the comrades logo on the ground (not sure I would have got back up), but there were people to take your photo with your medal.

And then you look around you - bodies are everywhere, it looks terrible. I wandered passed the back-to-back medal and green number tents, and then in the huge crowds (of SA meeting friends and family) officials appeared as if from nowhere to direct me to the international tent. Here we are looked after very well. Loads of hot food/sandwiches, drinks (I think beer if you are quick enough) and our bags are in an area here so you don't have to go far to collect them. I soon spotted many other UK runners and talked with them about the day whilst trying to tidy myself up, rehydrate and cheer the remaining runners. Some had been there 3hrs or more enjoying luxuries such as a shower and massage.

Finally it was time for the most emotional and saddest part of the day - the final 12hr cut-off. It gets hyped up by the commentator and sitting there with your medal it feels quite exciting (although you know only all too well that it could easily be you). But then the gun goes, the music is changed and the scenes on the big screens are heart-wrenching as people are stopped just yards from the finish line. Yet still runners are coming around the stadium passed the international tent. It's almost as though we are set up - the last cut-off at the top of Polly Shortts is at 16:50, which leaves 40mins to do ~6km (sounds reasonable, but not if you have just done just over 80km in 11hrs 20mins).

With a few others we relatively quickly found our way to the buses to take us back to Durban, and practically got straight on one. Then we just sat there for ages as the traffic getting out was chaos. The driver was nice and let people off and on the bus when they weren't feeling so well (we were warned to bring sick bags off the plane). Having left 5-10mins after the 12hr finish, we finally got back to the Hilton (where most internationals stay) at ~9/9:30PM (after what seemed like dropping each SA on the bus specifically to where they wanted in Durban). I was hobbling quite badly now (like after my first marathon), but went for a beer and some food in the hilton to celebrate with some other UK runners. Funnily, when I got in the lift at my hotel, one of the SA in there that chatted remembered me from the 11hr bus and was pleased to hear that I finished with them.

Next morning I woke quite early (so did most others it seemed), and I could walk relatively normally (just like after any other long run). I enjoyed a full english at the hotel (everyone was in their comrades tshirts at breakfast), bought the paper with the results and chilled out for a bit. Unfortunately it was raining (like I said, 24hrs too late) so not really balcony weather. Then the other UK runner at my hotel and I went along to a bar on the beach front where everyone was meeting up. What followed was a very enjoyable afternoon drinking beer and talking all things comrades 2013 with other UK, Irish, SA and UK from Dubai runners. One thing I particularly learned here was how to be gracious if it's not your day/you don't get the result you were after - some runners missed their goal medals, and others (going for their green numbers = 10 finishes) DNF'd. But all were still happy to celebrate everyone's achievements and share their stories (past and present). And most were already talking of settling scores/green numbers/back-to-back medals next year...

My Comrades Stats:

- 86.96km (garmin said 88km) 10:56:45
- Cowies Hill (16.86km) 2:04:20
- Drummond (42.96km) 5:11:13
- Camperdown (60.66km) 7:27:42
- Polly Shortts (79.26km) 10:01:48

- Fairly even average pace per km at each of the above splits (7:37, 7:24, 7:38, 7:59, 7:55)

- Overall position = 5869 (/10186 finishers)
- Gender position = 840 (/1953 finishers)
- Female age 20-29 position = 62 (/173 finishers)

- x6 gu
- x3 shot bloks
- x2 pieces of banana
- x2 handfuls (~3) of biscuits
- x3 pieces of salted potato
- ~4 cups of pepsi
- unknown number of water sachets

- x2 toilet stops
- no blisters
- mild (post-run) chaffing
- x1 migraine
- x1 tight lower left calf
- x1 accidental press of buttons on garmin (to record a ‘lap’ of 245m)
- x1 loosing shoe incident

- numerous sense of humour failures
- uncountable number of ‘running highs’

- x1 Comrades bronze medal