the THIRD coffee

Greeted at 2:30AM with an alarm that you never really needed – you were up anyway, cause it’s Comrades day! 

The starting line welcomes thousands upon thousands (upon thousands) of runners. The air is filled with a mix of exhilaration and nerves – the age old question of “should I stand and keep my legs warm”, or “should I sit and preserve energy” lingers all around. 

I took my seat on the road in front of Durban City Hall, convincing myself that somewhere along the 85.777km ahead my legs should be warmed up.. 

A blink of many years of tradition: 

National Anthem

“Tears”

Shozoloza

“Proudly South African”

Chariots of Fire

“Let’s f’ing gooo”

Canon

“Oh shit”

My race started at 05AM on 14 June 2026, and I was immediately greeted by the roaring cheers of the crowds of spectators. Overwhelmed, it’s easy to feel like a superhuman – which, in that moment, is the right mindset you need to tackle the race ahead.

What I found helpful in preparation for the up-run was to plan the race before the start. Leverage your strengths – whether it’s being a strong hill runner or being able to gooi on a downhill – plan where and when you want to run or walk and stick to it (especially in the first half!). 

Research will tell you about the “Big 5 Hills”, but you’ll come across many smaller unnamed hills that you will naturally refer to as “warrefok”, “nee bliksem”, and “donnerrrrr”. 

Feeling strong-ish through the 30km mark, I met my seconds (fancy term for parents and partner) and reenergised, before moving along. At this point I had conquered notorious Big Hills Cowie’s Hill and Field’s Hill – check, check! 

At the marathon mark, my legs were feeling slightly more tired than I had hoped after having run Botha’s Hill, and I knew the second half would be tough with 2 of the Big 5 still ahead.

“Good morning sir”, I greeted Arthur, almost in prayer. 

I’m hit by Inchanga. The first of the three “Big 5 Hills” that really klapped me. I wanted to cry, but the sun was in full-swing and I thought “you might dehydrate”, so I decided to swear instead. You can fill in the blanks here. 

After a “run 2min walk 1min” session that felt like eternity, it was over. I kept going, now approaching the “30km to go mark”. 

I reached my seconds again in Camperdown with just more than 25km to go, and in their words “looked pretty f*cked up”. They were not entirely wrong. 

I truly believe every Comrades runner will reach a point where you have to turn things around in your mind. This was it for me. I had a stern chat with myself, and we proceeded to chase the sub 10 hours that I had dreamed about. 

From there, I dedicated every kilometre to anyone I’ve ever shared the road with. One by one. You all know who you are.

And I just, kept, going. 

In classic rookie fashion, I then mistakingly battled up Little Polly’s thinking:

“Wow, Polly Shorts is not that bad”. 

Reality hit me in the face like a brick when the lady next me asked:

“Do you know if Polly Shorts starts around the next corner?”.

I sincerely hoped not, but yes. 

Indeed. 

Polly Shorts was waiting around the corner. 

Another session of “2min run 1min walk” and just thinking to myself – just get up this hill! 

And I did! 

From there, with just over 6km to go, I locked in. It was one step at a time. I did the math, I picked up the pace, and “I ran for my life”. 

Exhilarated – nothing could stop me. I was going for it knowing that, with every kilometre ticked off, I was one step closer to my sub 10 hour goal. 

And just like that, I hit the grass. Cheers upon cheers from spectators – I knew I had done it. I crossed the finish line, achieving my goal, and filled with a feeling that is pretty hard to describe. 

I’ll leave you with this: 

It’s not easy, and that’s fine – it’s not supposed to be easy. But to be able to share the road with so many people who set out to do one thing – achieve something beyond the imaginable that they worked hard to achieve – is quite a spectacular feeling. 

Signing off for now, 

André