Old Mutual Two Oceans Half Marathon

Earlier today I participated in the Old Mutual Two Oceans Half Marathon, dubbed “The World’s Most Beautiful Marathon.” The race had two themes, my Achilles tendon, which I had somehow hurt during a training run two weeks prior, and the weather, which was forecasted to be 60 degrees and raining for the 6am start. Before we get ahead of ourselves though, we need to start with the International Fun Run, a 5k which took place on Friday morning. I was skeptical and cynical going into it, the title just sounded silly and plus I spend a lot of my time trying to blend into the Capetonian culture rather than proclaiming my foreignness. The run turned out to be awesome (and it was also way longer than 5k, my guess it was 4 miles). The weekend’s race had 80 countries represented and at the event Friday people were dressed up in their countries colors and a flag from each nation was distributed to one of its citizen’s to carry. It was a lighthearted atmosphere and the route spent most of the time along the shoreline. Unfortunately, my Achilles, which I had been resting for the past week and a half, tightened up at the end of the run, making me nervous for the next morning.

The half marathon turned out to be possibly the biggest mental race I have ever run. We arrived at the start in the dark, the overcast sky hiding the full moon above; warming up, my Achilles was tight and sore and no matter how much I stretched it I couldn’t make it comfortable. I had emailed my high school cross country coach looking for advice, and his words were in the back of my head. “My advice is to avoid this race…don’t be a hero, you need your heel for a lot more activities than races.” Was I being stupid trying to run this? How will I know when enough is enough and I need to stop? Will I be able to make myself bail on a race I spent the past three months training for (not to mention over $100 registering for)? At what point in the race will I reach the mark where no matter what I’m going to finish? Hurting my Achilles now would probably keep me out for the majority of the summer, and I already have a bunch of bike races, triathlons, and running races on the schedule. Before I had answered most of these questions in my head the gun went off and the race had begun. With over 16,200 people registered to run, the start of the race was extremely crowded and the darkness added a whole new element. At least it wasn’t raining.

It took just about 15 minutes for the pack to loosen up so I could get into a groove. Having never run in kilometers before, I had no idea how to pace myself, so every 5k I took my split. My first split was 30:28, way slower than I wanted it to be due to the start, meaning I had some catching up to do. At the 10k mark (26:59 split, 57:28 into the race), two things changed. My Achilles finally loosened up, allowing me to relax a bit and just run, and the weather changed. I felt it happen; the sky got dark, the wind picked up, and the temperature dropped. On top of this a 5k long hill, arguably the hardest part of the race, started. At least it wasn’t raining.

It started raining just as I reached the 13k mark. It started light but picked up until it was a downpour with a strong wind that would whip tiny rain bullets into your eyes. By the 15k mark (27:16 split, running for a total of 1:24:44) I was soaked all the way through. I picked up my pace and spent the last few kilometers battling the driving headwind. I crossed the finish line unofficially at 1:53:26, working out to be an 8:39/mile pace. This wasn’t the fastest half marathon I’ve run, in fact it was my slowest (out of two previous races), but there was a sense of accomplishment I felt crossing the finish line that was absent in any of the previous endurance races I’ve completed. I had won the mental battle and ran a great race. In the end my Achilles held out and the weather waited as long as it could before it released its wrath on the runners. Now I can say I’ve run 13.1 on two continents, and I have the medal to prove it!