I've had a long couple of weeks. Ones that have left me needing a holiday - but that's not to be for now. Sometimes when I am trying to pull together a series of events for Positive Heroes, and I have to rely on the kindness of strangers to get things done ... I become fractured, feel a little isolated and (I'll be honest), wonder if it is all really worth it?
When the Positive Heroes Ultra-Marathon Team compete in marathons, we always do outreach work around the race sites. This time we threw an Easter Party for our friends at Yabonga (www.Yabonga.com) - a great organisation that works with HIV positive children and their families. They hold clinics, provide ARVs and convene support groups in some of the most needy parts of Cape Town. We arrived at Crossroads to find singing and dancing kiddies (all living with HIV), already playing games in the sun. Afterwards we were treated to a presentation by some of the youngsters and caregivers who proudly showed us the art they had created to commemorate Easter.
On Good Friday we joined Isiqualo (www.isiqalo.org/?m=1) for a surfing lesson. Their Waves for Change program is designed for first-time water users and employs beach and water based exercises to create an alternative learning environment for at-risk youth. Isiqualo's main aim is to address the social and health issues that contribute to these kids contracting HIV. Most of these young surfers live in challenging situations - often without adult involvement. And it was beautiful to see them mentoring the (older) runners. I watched amazed as they gently coaxed nervous adults into the water and onto boards. And later, heard them admit they had never met anyone living openly with HIV before, and say how their perceptions of the virus and stigma had been changed by the Heroes stories. Today - it feels like it's worth it.
But then it came Saturday. Everyone knew it was going to rain, yet the Marathon organisers did little to prepare for the deluge. There was nowhere at the finish to shelter. The meeting points were alphabetised poles stuck in the middle of the downpour. As the runners came in: they were given cans of coke and apples ... rather that survival blankets and tea. The arena was awash in mud, blued skin and chattering teeth. Runners were wandering around blindly - trying to find their support crew and dry clothes .... and this after 52kms of running up and down Cape Town's finest mountain passes in the freezing rain.
Every 15 mins or so, the race announcer would remind us how "this sort of weather leads to hypothermia" and to "stay dry and wrap up warm". How the fuck he expected us to do that I don't know. The only shelter on offer was two tiny open sided awnings (thank you Ola! ice-cream. Sorry about the lack of sales) and a beer tent ... into which thousands of runners who definitely didn't have "sinking a cold one' on their minds, crammed themselves. I was carrying five backpacks and blundering into everyone in the crush.
The announcer was grating on my nerves. I was icy, pissed off and resentful. So I decided to point out the irony of the situation to him. Perhaps it was my pithy turn of phrase, or perhaps it was the sight of me blue-lipped with water dripping off my nose that made my point , but either way he stopped. And the man next to me under the Ola! tent said: "Thank God for that, I was going to punch him in a minute". This misery does love a bit of company.
But then the TAC (Treatment Action Campaign) runners came surging into the arena to spoil my moment. They'd been running for over six hours but they were still together, still smiling and still singing. This was their first every Ultra-Marathon as a team - and they had made it before cut off. This was their moment.
I had only been wet for a few hours and there I was bitching. I felt worse now and and headed out to do another round of "search my runners". As I sloshed along I decided to replay the past two weeks and see if it really had been worth it ...
Jeff Rosenburg at Southern Sun Hotel Waterfront had given our team shelter in response to a desperate last minute request. Knead Bakeries threw the Surfers a picnic lunch that was beyond generous. Vuyiseka Dubula and the TAC team had hosted us for a fabulous dinner at Vuyi's place. My friend Rudi Mitchell spent his rare work day-off inside a sweltering Easter-Bunny suit handing out eggs and teddies to little folks. And Cody Pike and his crew went above and beyond to get good filming done - and did it all for free. I realised I had plenty of moments of my own.
So ... what else did I ultimately take from the weekend? Dance and sing when you're not feeling great, trust that someone younger than you can teach you something new, remember one woman's moan is another's moment and always, always take a big goddamned umbrella to a marathon.
