Mac Mac miler
Anyway, I’ve tried to write this piece a few times now. Each time I’m stuck on what the heck I’m trying to communicate: is it just for me - a solidification of the experience for when memory fades? Is it for my friends and family? Or is it for random people out there (most likely just absorbed into the AI training data and regurgitated out stripped of all my fluffy words?
So maybe that’s the answer. Let me just write for all of them. Feel to read just one or all of them 💙
For: random people on the internet
If you’re anything like me - scrounging through the internet looking for training information for ultra-marathons - and by some miracle have landed here. Well done. This is, as far as I know, the only place online which is going to tell you that you don’t have to run much before doing a 100 miler.
This is how and when the race was entered:
- Thought about the race: at a party with Damo
- Got serious about talking about it: 29 March
- Actually entered: 13 April
This is important because the race was on 3 July. So from actually entering to the race there was less than three months to train. Now you’ll probably roll your eyes, thinking that I’m some elite trail running god with years of winning races under the belt.
Not true. I have been running consistently since roughly 2020 (bless COVID for making us do the things we didn’t think we liked). But I’ve never been a big milage boy, maybe I’m being ignorant, maybe I’ve forgotten things. I am in good shape, and I’m active. But I’m basically speaking straight to the bullshit on the internet trying to get people to run more than 20km a week, preaching that it’s the only way to train.
I do not win races, and will never. Do not follow my advice if you want to go fast. Only follow my advice if you want to enjoy being out in the mountains with a body that doesn’t fall apart.
So - I did the thing I had been threatening to do, I bought a walking treadmill. Here’s the logic:
- Do I need to work? yes
- How many hours a week to do need to work? about 40 hours
- Can I turn those 40 hours a week into training? YES
And thus began the most unconventional way of training for a 100 mile ultramarathon. I did over 500km of walking while I worked after getting the treadmill in April.
Compare that with my running. That’s 318km over the last six months. With my longest run being a marathon.
Throw in some - rather erratic - weight training after each run. And that was basically my training regime.
Now - dear random people from the internet who may or may not be reading this. That is it for you. Read on if you want to learn about my experience of the race. Or you can close this tab and go buy a walking treadmill. I got a WalkingPad A1 Pro on Facebook marketplace for a bit of a deal.
For: friends and family
Hi mom!
I guess many of you aren’t know bits and bobs. But I’m just going to write down random things that happened during the race. Hopefully entertaining.
The race itself was basically split into two distinct sections, characterised by Damo’s presence. Sadly Damo got an owie at about 85km - that is his story to tell. But I know in some way he got immense value from that.
Part 1: with Damo
Okay, so. The start. Drag on. We sat in an endless briefing session where he spoke through every single nuance of the trail. none of which I probably will remember. But all I do remember is that there's putt putt somewhere, in a forest, from some kids, on a school kind of tour, hiking, they started making a pot putt hole. And then, Fricky and Ilov finish it up and put a couple balls and little clubs out there. So that's gonna be weird. Blah, blah, blah, long walking, running, all that kind of cock. And then we're going to this beautiful forest and see a gold mine that had, how many 1000000 pounds, a thousand pounds? million pounds of gold. One and a half million pounds of gold extracted from, spoke about how crazy it would be to be out there in those days, and if they used to fight, and if maybe that's where the private security industry originated from. And then, we saw Robin sitting on the side of the road, looking like shit. And she's suffering from altitude, and a mixture of things. And then... found Sheba, saw the gals. I had a thought that was dangerous. on the toilet, and then we, coming on the other side of Mount Sheba, after a really steep climb, linked up with Robin, she told us about her. This is her seventh mitre that she's done, and she spoke about how she did one in Zimbabwe, where she kind of went blind for a day. And I had a similar experience with altitude. What an absolute unit, though, a weapon. I can see her smoking up the hill ahead of us. Um, she's struggling uphills. She's flying down them. She might be our first yoyo companion.
In the forest now, 7 o'clock, dark, cold, but really laid up and kind of going off the assumption and full knowledge that your body uses less energy to cool down rather than warm up. Beautiful, intricate, almost indistinct path through the forest. Clear enough to keep you safe. Faint enough to keep it exciting.
And just as I say, that shit gets caught fucking wild. Just straight up, muddy, slippery trees fallen over, rivers, big drops on the side, like dangerous stuff, but like really exciting. So, grateful that we're only about 30 something hairs in, because if this was in 100 Ks, it would have been a whole different beast.
There's a big controlled burn over in the distance, blowing orange against the skyline silhouette, and all the parallels to the trans party days for us to come rushing back. Throw back to that vortex when there was an enormous fire just on the mountains beyond.
Insane stars. After the, what was basically an outdoor jungle gym, all the hiking trail with loads of fallen over trees, blocking the path. It took a little break, had a contour path that we basically just went straight up off and saw 2 shooting stars, the full Milky Way, and then it got fucking cold, like a full cold snap. Hoods on. And we're climbing again and warming up.
Feeling quite grateful for my hypochondria, as in, I never got sick in the end. This would have been a hell of a lot more hard if I was harbouring illness.
God bless, merino wool, and God bless Zyns and poles.
Lovely little aid station, fire, dog, dog sitting on couch. Pretty quick. For, like, 10 minutes in and out. Nice cup of coffee, banana bread, draw a horse, shot of old brown sherry. Chat with Friki. And now we're running down a long jeep track back in the pine plantation. It's been very fortuitous to have the big climbs in the, in the dense forest and then a long, slower, runnable descent on each side. So, yeah, for nearly a marathon inn. Feeling good. Mine's clear, but he's humming. None of the niggles have gone doink yet. And just a lot of the niggles have disappeared. Feeling good about things.
All right, so unofficial aid station appeared. scared the shit out of me when they were playing music. Had a potently strong ray coffee. Um, got on our way, and then demo, uh, control alt deleted the Rick coffee, and now we get again, and on our, cruising up the hill. Back, boy. We're back.
So, man, the crystal springs, really amazingly well stocked aid station, and the sort of manager had a little baby puppy, which is super cute. Damo had a mooning nap, little baby nap. I ate a lot. The babes arrived. after being kind of blocked at the entrance for a little while. Um, And Deimos seems to have rallied. He's struggling a bit, right now, he's got earphones in. But we're moving. We're walking, like, 10 minute caves quite comfortably. Interestingly, I feel like I could do this forever. And I did a little jug now just to see. And it seems that the... Drugging feels fine, but it definitely feels like it's placing unnecessary impact on the, on the quads and the knees. So, maybe I'm just gonna power hike the rest of this thing. It's kind of a certainty in some way.
It's kind of giving a little bit of a Barclay marathon kind of feel. I mean, it's like, what is it? half past one in the morning. Um, just had to like climb over a barbed wire fence. Um, Awesome. Loving it. Um, it's not a race. It's an adventure.
Some late night musings, I definitely had some sort of egocentrical desire to like run a lot, which is silly because the fast power hike has just always been the thing that's carried me through. And so, really leaning into it has been remarkable. Feels kind of endless. So I think I'm just gonna walk. Also feels like I'm not gonna hurt myself. I'm not gonna trip or destroy the quads, so... I always luck into, like, a 10 minutes okay hike for the nice forever.
All right, 330 in the morning. So it was a bit of a rush to get to Mount Sheba 2nd time round for the 3 a.m. cutoff. But we got there, along with the whole group of people. Now, we left, put on some, put on some airphones, listen to Steve Good, Cruise Island Mountain. And before you know, I'd look behind me to see Damien, gone. And in a moment of panic, I thought that we'd lost each other, but then everything has worked out, and I have them back. And it is safe and fun again. Um... We have until 4 p.m. to get to the next cutoff, um, which is like 45 k's away. Should be able to do it quite easily.
It's half past 4 in the morning. And it's very cold. Like. Like -4 cold. It's, um, basically dangerous to stop moving. We've got about 5Ks to go to. I'll drop bag at Mac My Hut, and we just have to slug it out.
It got dangerously called. We had it to Mac Mac Hut and. Yeah, it was interesting. It was called there too. They had a fireplace, so, and, yeah, now we're heading off, 1st light, and there's a little bit more hope in the air.
And the cute woman working in Mac Mac hut gave me her buff on the condition that I finished, so yes ma'am, I will. Say again.
The feeling of having the sun on my face again is quite out of this world. It felt like I would never be warm again. Um, People are perking up. They looking pretty shell shocked. Damo's already struggling. I think he's gonna pull out. And then, but one of the next aid stations. My body's doing very well. Like, tired, but not sore. Which is a nice experience. Well, maybe I'm just, I don't know, maybe this, friends with a pain or something. Um... I probably should wear, be wearing a hat, but it's pretty lovely, just going together the sun right now.
Part 2: alone
So, with Demo, stopped at the road, waiting for beers to pick him up, I kind of felt like I had some... an attempt to see if I've got legs, though. To wish I did do some pretty good running. But in my whole, like, kind of seeing things has started, and I didn't take a wrong turn after Klaskopp, and then get a bit confused, and thought I saw someone hiding in a bush. Creepy. Um, I think it was daytime, right? But it's gonna be funny, I guess nice. So, yeah. Let's slug it out. No, and get to... the next aid station, and just take it one of these station at a time.
I think I've got my first dark thoughts. Um, the sense of like. Hopelessness because there have been no. Let you know markers between Kraskop and. Mac Mac pools and I'm just feeling a bit unsafe to be honest. I guess it's also adjusting to being alone. But I did walk past Sean. Oh, my God, I just saw one. Motherfuckers. They were, aren't you? Um, it's just so a marker, but Sean was calling the race directors, kind of giving them a word about... how I like to get his. I got lost like maybe five or six times so my. My review of Mac Mac has a race is dropping substantially. That was fun, but actually, in retrospect, it was pretty irresponsible. And there was a distinct lack of safety, concern. But maybe that's what they try to do. It kind of just feels like they never actually walked this path before. themselves. They've never done it before. They just assume that there are things here, and they probably should ask someone to clear for them. But because there's no flow. It doesn't make sense. And it's very putting marks. Anyway, round over. That feels better.
Alright, I've just decided that this is what it's about. I entered to feel this, to feel fucking over it, coming up with excuses to stop, trying to find reasons. And as the bone machine would say, stay hard, don't quit. Dig deeper. This is your brain being weak. And you need to put it in this place. So, that is what I'm gonna do.
So a wetsuit hanging over a tree in the middle of the forest. Which wasn't actually a wetsuit. Um, and then thought about the bowing machine. Thought about his catchphrase, stay hard, and realise, well, I think I knew this already, but like, it's all an interaction joke. But it is a good catchphrase, because it just encompasses it all. Um, but you know, the whole erection part of it is quite funny. Anyway, it's kind of flat now. No, it's not. But I should do some running sometimes.
Hi. Can see why no one hikes the funny but hiking trail anymore because it's fucking hectic. Holy shit. I mean, I don't even have a big backpack on. Who, in God's name, decided to make this thing? But this issue just straight up and down. Um, yeah, no wonder it's a band.
After seeing Damo Kate and beer at Mac Mac pools, Fort Deborah was unable to walk with seemingly a torn hamstring hectic. Um... Just a little sit down and chat and refuel and then trotted off. Current down the world's the longest straight jeep track and. A little while ago, I looked at my watch, but the sleeve was obscuring the one in 12. And I saw 12, 240. No, you got the cutoff is at four. I was like, oh God, I'm done. And then checked again. And you just said it was 1255 or something. So, looking likely, I'm pretty torched, but the body's moving well. I just seem to keep going.
So, I'm like, I don't know. 120 K Z? I'm fucked. Exhausted, tired. Not done. But... shattered. The body's still moving well. That's where we get to this next aid station.
Zyns cure hallucinations.
Okay, I appreciate this moment. Time is setting. There's this beautiful, long, gentle, descending sheep track, and I just run. Feels easy. I just float down. I think I'm close to this hut, and I've decided to take a sleep. Maybe 15 minutes, and just... roll the dice. Maybe I feel better afterwards. It's getting closer to the end. Still far, but it's in sight. I'm just looking for this hut. Sort of play map, that game of trying to get to the hot before dark, so I don't have to put a head torch on, but I don't know if I'm gonna win this race.
Man, in some way, I've, uh... I don't know, new beginning. I got to the aid station. I was welcomed by a guy. It was awesome. He walked me in. I ate some soup, and then I went for 10 minutes' sleep, didn't ready to sleep, but... lay there with a... dude, uh, what's it called, sleep lab on me. And then got very warm, a little bit worried about the cold, so I asked some people about it, and then some legend gave me a black bag. that I'm gonna put under my... reindeer. If it gets very windy, or very cold. In fact, I actually be a winner. So, being very confident, I've got 16 days to the next eight session. Which is pretty fucking far. Yeah. All right. How are you gonna take me, like? I don't really remember. But, let's say, five hours, maybe. You're a lot to find. Anyway, I feel good, though. Listen to some Steve good. Have my phone battery lost.
It's night now, not yet freezing. Um, I'm feeling good. I was gonna reflecting on it all. Not that it's over, but just that. I've got a bit more mental clarity after the sleep, and I guess it's, like, just, you know, like, a... that classic thing about the mind, like, an imagined, um, hell, a familiar hell is better than an unfamiliar, unfamiliar heaven. And that little voice in your head that, like, tries to keep you safe the whole time, but effectively stops you from doing... amazing things, or brave things. It's like a, sort of... It's a bit of a fabricated experience of... standing after that little voice. Just being like, No, I'm gonna keep going. I hurt. There's lots of things that could go wrong. But I'm gonna do this thing. And I hope that it brings newfound confidence into my life to dive into the unknown.
Don't know if I got this, but Robin went blind again.
Neverending beuatiful jeep track through the nature reserve.
Martizbos aid station and then the descent. The two guys. People in past years getting stalked by Leopards.
Maritzbos in general. Nervous of it before. Mostly fine in the beginning. Got completely over it. Fell over a few times. Remember trying not to stop myself falling with my muscels to avoid a Damo tear. lying on the dirt with the side of my face in leaves. Just sighed to myself. Got up and carried on.
21 bridges across the river.
Getting close to the end. Probably 15km out. Saw another endless jeep track snaking off into the night. Sat down in a bush to take a moment. My body felt good - but the mind was exhausted by now. I’d been awake for nearly two days straight.
Then Eddie arrived out of the darkness. Eddie is from George. He said something like “finally I’ve caught up with you”. And he basically just said - get up, let’s go and finish this thing.
Eddie is a pretty big deal in the George trail running scene. He’s started something called the Six Peaks challenge (think 13 peaks but in George). He’s run many milers (his slowest time is 30 hours). He was flown out here by a wealthy mother/son combo who wanted someone to guide them through it. The son had the best name on Earth: Hercules Mugglestone. Sadly they both dropped out around Graskop (about 100km in). And then Eddie started basically sprinting to beat the cutoffs. Eddie had arrived at a few aid stations just as I was leaving them, and I think that he was one of the few people that he hadn’t overtaken. So I suspect that he was kind of chasing me.
We chatted about all things, some nonsensical conversations. We were coming closer and closer to this aid station called Ceylon, which never seemed to arrive. We had this hilarious shared hallucination whereby the lights of the town of Sabie sometimes appeared between the trees in the darkness of night. They looked like an enormous three story hotel just around the next corner. Eventually I asked if he too had seen the hotel - and he said he was so relieved that I saw it too. As he thought he was going crazy. After about an hour and no hotel we conceded that we had both gone a little crazy. But there was something very comforting of being crazy in company.
Ceylon finally arrived. And I couldn’t believe it but Damo, Cait and Beatriz were sitting outside. I asked several times if they were real. We sat inside the rather sad aid station. Eddie and I both rambling nonsense. I was feeling a bit stuck in the comfort of being inside and eventually Damo forced me to get up and go with Eddie - absolutely the right move.
It was 10km to go to the finish line. And we started sprinting. Like I’m not joking actually sprinting. The terrain was steep - endless jeep track climbs then endless mountain bike descents. But we just gassed it like we were going on a weekend run with a fast friend.
At this point both Eddie and I had severe blisters on our feet, every step was painful. But we just yelled obscenities into the night while we raced out way through the freezing cold dark night. The body felt amazing. We’re 160km in and probably dong this section as fast as the winners would have done it - what a weird experience.
The most peculiar part of this was the fact that I couldn’t really see the details of the trail very well. It was just kind of a mushy blurred colour pallet: leaves and rocks could not be told apart. I was aware that a misplaced step on a rock could cause this whole thing to come crashing down. But somehow I just trusted whatever subconscious part of my brain was controlling my feet and watched the pretty colours pass by.
We come flying down a single track at honestly a sub 4 minute/km pace - we can see the lights of Merry Pebbles and the finish line in distance. And then FOK IT screams Eddie from ahead of me. And we come to a stop before a raging river with a single slack line strung across. Eddie goes through his whole vocabulary of both English and Afrikaans swear words then starts walking back muttering to himself. I catch up, we check Google Maps and find that it’s going to be another 5km to avoid the river. So we wade our way through. It was treacherous and freezing. Both a horrible and classic way to end this.
Our blistered feet sufficiently freezing and more painful than ever we both limp the last kilometre or so to the finish line. And that was it.
For: me
Outline
- Ultimately why? what I was thinking before the race
- Training?
- Hypochondria
- Control: I think that this is the core thing to dive into here
- your mind prefers a familiar hell over an unfamiliar heaven
- therefore your mind would prefer to not do big hard things where things can go wrong
- the act of keeping itself alive causes you to avoid more and more things that are potentially great - but potentially risky
- to do this thing with damo - the person who got me into this whole world
- suffering - we just don’t anymore
- click a button on a phone and food arrives at your door
- no army
- our bodies grow through suffering. And we’ve spent so much time trying to make life as comfortable as possible
- to get to the point of wanting to quit. And then not quitting. To go past the point where it feels you cannot go any further
Obsession - it definitely was. And how that bleeds into future disaplin.
Psychotically trying to pick my moles off thinking they were ticks. But it had legs. Look at them moving.
Why the hell would someone run a 100 miles?
Honestly why.
And in some beautiful way - it’s this why which makes the whole endeavour worth doing. In this magical harmony between body you need an answer to this question to continue. And I think that it’s in the confrontation of this question of why that you truly find the reason to do this thing in the first place.
I think that the beautiful thing is that everyone’s why is different. And finding your reason requires some serious soul searching. But once you get to that place of being both physically and emotionally finished, and only your answer to why is able to keep you going, is the place where you prove something very powerful to yourself.
I had a few answers to why going into this.
The race
Training
Before this race - this was the only thing that I was able to control. And due to the natural disposition of my mind, control it I did.
If you watch the (clickbaity) YouTube videos on the topic of 100 miler training schedules you’ll find it full of structured training weeks with many many kilometers of running, strength work, speed work and general unthoughtful, unoriginal regurgitated bullshit.
I feel like there’s this inherent distrust in the human body these days. There’s this sense that training has to be something that you add onto your day. Something that you make sacrifices for. Something you wake up at 5am for, that you have to look down on those who don’t do it in order to drive you to continue to do it. I don’t like it one bit.
In the global western world we live sedentary lives. Even if we think we’re active in comparison - we’re still sitting at a desk for around 40 hours a week. Then sitting on the couch on the weekend. Or lying in bed to relax while watching something.
My hypothesis was that time in feet was way more helpful than kilometers spent running when it came to preparing for such a long race. And the method to achieve that was a walking treadmill that I put under my standing desk. Then I just did work, and walked the whole time.
No new timeslots carved out for a new routine. No massive uptick in running mileage. Just hours on the feet doing low aerobic exercise. I think that since getting the treadmill in March I clocked about 600km of walking while working.
Now - yes - I will be the first to admit that just getting a walking treadmill won’t be enough. I did a fair amount of strength training. Aiming for 10 minutes each day - without being too strict with myself. I built the habit of doing a bit of strength work after each run that I would go on.
I think that my magic wand answer (for myself obviously - every body is different):
- Spend as much time on your feet as possible
- Walking is better than standing
- Standing is better than sitting
- Strength work cannot be avoided
- Run - but always recover fully before running again (I’ve only ever got injured when going for a run when stiff or sore from the previous run).
Then, finally. I slept an unholy amount in the three weeks before the race.
Damo
- what a privaledge to be able to start this with him
- I think that in some way I needed to do part of it alone. Or at least finish alone. I wanted to get to the point of being utterly alone with my thoughts and wanting to give up. And then not giving up - so I’m grateful that he seemed to know that and give me the encouragement to go and tackle it by myself
How did the body feel
I held back for the first 80km. And I think that it would have been impossible to do that alone. I’m so grateful that I both had the experience of running my first miler partly with Damo. And had the ease of taking it slow for the first half.
Come the halfway mark - yes I was flying close to cutoff - but I felt so strong. I started doing proper fast running after 80km (much to the disbelief of fellow runners along the route). I think that while I would be tempted to start running more sooner into the race, there’s a true sense of confidence that I gained in my body knowing that the strong powerhike will always be there to get the kilometres done safely.
I had a few niggles going into the run. Beau Miles says that is just part of life after you’re thirty. So I did my best not to worry about them. Yet none of them flared up or became painful. Honestly I would say that my body felt consistently great throughout all 164km of this race. Which is honestly unbelievable.
I almost feel bad writing this - arrogant in some ways - but after meeting Eddie at roughly 145km in I ran more than I would have on a weekend run with friends. And felt amazing doing it.
Nothing went doink. No cramps. No bio-mechanical failures.
I’m in the airplane coming home while writing this - and honestly the only thing sore are the blisters on my feet. There’s gentle stiffness, it’s actually ridiculous. All hail the walking treadmill.
to share with
- Gemma
- Mac Mac support group
- Kendra
- Jamie
- James Dry
- Logan
- Lucy