Photos By: Anthony Grote
April saw an influx of Dubai’s sports lovers to South Africa, for the most part for Ironman South Africa, which by all accounts, seems to have brought some epic results and a few qualifiers for the world champs in Kona.
A big congrats to all involved! There was also Cape Town’s Two Oceans race over Easter Weekend, which always has a good representation from Dubai. And then a lesser known event, which Adventure Chick took part in… the inaugural Ingeli Skymarathon, a 42km trail run with 2,100m vertical ascent. Not terribly well known, the Ingeli mountain range, sitting in the heart of southern KwaZulu-Natal, proved to be one of the most spectacular routes I’ve run in a long time.
The night before
We arrived at the host venue for the race, the Ingeli Forest Lodge, late afternoon. Registration and the race briefing followed which made for a packed room full of bracing anticipation, nervous excitement and animated chatter.
I laughed when the race director told us that his stated race distances rarely correlate with the actual… I suppose this just throws into the mix some added adventure! He then went through the usual briefing stuff but to be honest, I don’t rate myself terribly highly at listening to instructions, never mind following them. Instead, I found myself looking around the room, sizing up my fellow participants… feeling like everyone looked stronger, leaner, fitter and faster than me. And I wondered whether we’re all sometimes guilty of this. It’s silly really. We sign up to these events to run our own race and our performance comes entirely from within. Add to this the fact, that at any one time, every participant is at a different stage of their game… virgin trail runner, weekend warrior or seasoned pro… running to train for their A race or this is their A race, fresh out of injury or at their peak… there’s no end of variables.
I also thought about how funny it is, regardless of the race or our experience, how we all find ourselves the night prior, discussing incessantly, what we’re wearing, what we’re taking, what we’re going to eat, drink, think… as if every single one of us were a newbie to these races. I know it’s great to share thoughts and ideas, but still, only we know ourselves what we can stomach to eat, only we know how hot we get or how we feel the cold. And one man’s mound is another man’s mountain. At least here, we’re all talking the same language. I’m sure as the globetrotting expats many of us are, that I’m not alone in having sometimes found myself in some pretty remote countries before having the same pre-race conversations around a table with a multitude of languages. For the record, you normally end up more confused at the end of the conversation than you did at the start!
The day of reckoning
Breakfast at the lodge held the same excitement and chatter as the night before, as we filled our bellies to power us through the race. It was still dark outside but by the time we started the race at 0600, daylight was creeping in.
The first few kilometres were through the most enchanted forest on pretty technical trails. The shading from the towering trees left little to be seen below so you had to remain vigilant every moment to avoid falling on rocks and roots. You could see the sun start to filter through the trees and it looked truly stunning. When eventually we left the forest and came to wide-open hillside fields, it was like a shaded oyster had opened to reveal the perfect pearl.
From there, we had some pretty steep climbs… at times feeling long and quite relentless… but with the sun shining and the skies a brilliant blue, it was difficult not to actually enjoy and embrace every lung-bursting moment (easy to say that in hindsight!)
The route had a mix of purpose cut paths and rough terrain, you know… the sort of trail that has been designed specifically to torture your ankles. Up and down we went, running, walking, fast packing… On reaching the highest point at 2,130m, the temperature dropped and the mist fell but you felt on top of the world with views as far as the eye can see and the sort of wind in your hair that makes you feel so free and alive. I imagined myself floating along like Maria from The Sound of Music running in the meadows however, I can safely state that what I looked like was far from this… rather a pair of tired legs plodding along without style or grace!
On the way up, I stopped a few times (not only to catch my breath!) but to marvel at the 360-degree beauty. It struck me that too often, when climbing up a mountain, we focus only on the next step without looking behind and absorbing how far we’ve come. And how perfectly this translates into our lives… we can get so blinkered, striving constantly towards our goals without enough thought into the journey we’ve taken before and how much we’ve achieved already. Note to self. And note to readers.
Dropping back down the mountain was, for me, the toughest part of the course. It was steep with a wicked camber, giant tufts of grass to continue the ankle torturing and some slippery sections, just to throw in the odd muddy slide. On terrain like this, you can’t help but question whether these races would be better named trail-less races.
The final 20km was far easier… a pretty leisurely amble through some stunning forest on undulating trails. I was singing along to Frank Sinatra on my iPod and feeling all is right in the world. The forests just seemed to go on forever, with their endless switchbacks revealing more and more simple, rugged beauty. Nature at its best!
My final thought on finishing the race was the 100% total lack of rubbish I saw on the route. Not one single GU wrapper… this, I think, was a first in my history of races. And so it was pretty in keeping with our love for enjoying and taking care of the outdoors that every finisher was given a gorgeous little Fever Tree to plant at home.
The rest of the afternoon was spent basking in the sunshine on the lush lawns in front of the lodge. Eating, drinking, chatting, laughing… followed by a prize giving, slide show, dinner and bar. Every single race finisher was called up to collect a certificate.
The day after
The course, as I think I’ve stressed enough, was wonderful; just total raw picture-perfect beauty. But beyond that, the race organisation, the briefing, the route markings and the aid stations were all faultless. As for the Ingeli Forest Lodge, where we called home for the weekend, the team was fantastic and so accommodating. Meals were magic and the bar, the perfect spot to re-hydrate post race with a roaring fire and a giant screen to keep the boys happy.
As we packed the car and left these beautiful mountains behind us, I found myself with a secret smile. You see whilst some love to sign up for the big and bold races, the iconic events which attract hosts of international participants, I fall into the other camp. I love to immerse myself into the local scene, discover the lesser-known events then do my bit to give them the shout-out they deserve. Ingeli Skymarathon is, without doubt, deserving of this. And so I recommend you check this race out just in case you fall into the same camp as me.
Love, Tori x
