Phew, it took a good day of wallowing before I could face the internet again. Congrats to all of you that toughed it out all the way to the finish. That race has no mercy. And huge respect to Stu and Janine for that 7:22. A top 30 for Janine on just her second Comrades is unreal. She's made of steel. I unfortunately blew up as I began descending into Drummond. I'm still not quite sure what happened. I had been absolutely loving the race up to that point. When I ran it in 2017, Botha's Hill is where my spirits felt at their lowest yet this year it flashed by in what felt like a few strides and I had my eyes firmly set on the top of Inchanga, excited to really start running hard. And then, just a short km after cresting Botha's, it all went pear shaped. Fast. My heart rate rocketed, breathing got difficult and then I got dizzy and started vomiting. I ended up in the medic tent and got the meat cart back to St Augustines. Which leaves me with a lot to dissect. Did I develop an issue? Was it health related? Or did I convince myself that there was something wrong and manufacture the symptoms? Or did I simply quit because it got too tough? Naturally, all those possibilities have been churning through my head. I've finally come to terms with it, though. The doc did pick up some things on the ECG so I'm getting the heart checked out by a cardiologist but, either way, I still need to accept what happened. I guess I had this fear afterwards that this must mean I'm not strong enough for Comrades. But really, that's a stupid fear. Thousands of better, stronger and tougher runners than me have withdrawn from a race. What matters is how I deal with it and move forward. So, lessons learnt, pride humbled, wings clipped and it's back to the drawing board with a bit more information and a good season of training behind me. Time to have some short distance and trail fun and then think about Comrades again next year.
