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| Ben of the Flightless Eagles completed 8 SBBU loops |
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.
– 2am (Loop 17)
The black tar road spreads out to infinity at about 2am.
Shards of splintered bone shiv their way into the sinew and muscle fibers. My
legs reduced themselves to a walk for a few hours now. The running in them
causes the ankles to detach from the shin bones. I cannot hear any cracking in
the ankles but I can feel the cracking.
The night’s embrace is turning into my own nightmare on Elm
street. Suburbia is becoming dystopian. Leaves of trees lolling in the gentle
breeze resemble ashes wafting from funeral pyres. Postboxes resemble heads on
pikes. My fellow comrades, Spartan soldiers on a mission, are shrinking in the
distance. Still wrestling with their bodies and minds and chasing finish times.
My body and I are not speaking. We are going through a
trial separation.
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| Johnny Cobra's magic chilli-whiskey potion |
Sunday 30 April – 9.45am (15 minutes to
race start)
The barracks are filling up with challengers. Bright
colours like Coachella or maybe Afrika Burn. Sleeping bags are unravelled onto
sleeping cots. The legs of camping chairs are unfolded and snuggled next to blue
cooler boxes filled with dried mango, biltong, sandwiches and energy bars.
The smell of popcorn and coffee wafts across the room. A
cowbell rings and everyone raises their heads. The time has arrived.
Cristy also known as Dudette is wielding her film camera.
She pins a microphone onto the lapel of Johnny Cobra’s orange T-shirt. Johnny
Cobra opens the proceedings:
“Massive welcome to everyone to the SBBU 2023. It feels like
ages ago that we starting to plan this event.”
Johnny Cobra grows the hottest chilis in the world in the
back of his garden. So he is not to be trusted. He thanks everyone for
attending. He then calls out the three key rules.
“Rule 1. The cowbell will ring and signals 3
minutes before the lap start. That is your safety factor. The next sound you
will hear is the Spartan war cry. If you are not at the start line by the end
of the Spartan war cry, your challenge will officially be over.
Rule 2: You’ve got to finish the allotted route in the hour
irrespective of whether you’re running the 4.2ks or 6.7ks. You’ve got to be
back in time at the line before that war cry finishes. You don’t make the hour,
your challenge will be over.
For the 100 milers if you want to drop down to the 100k
challenge you can, but then your official challenge is over.”
Shouts come from Warmonger in a German accent “Nein, Nein!”
Crazy Hazy joins in “No, No!”
The 100 milers are adamant they will not quit. Murmurs
emanate from the crows.
“They’re idiots!” someone whispers from a clump of
supporters which ripples laughter through the barracks. Tension fractures but
is not totally broken.
Johnny Cobra, stroking his ginger Viking beard, goes
through the various routes that the runners will follow for the next 24 hours.
These are split into day and night loops. The routes have names like Spartan
Heart, Two-Spirit and The Triple Stitched Aero.
“Rule 3. If anyone pulls out, you must ring the
tap-out bell. That will signal that your challenge is over. And Alistair will
play taps on the bagpipes.”
Ger from Ireland, who is in South Africa on holiday, is the
first person out of the barracks and makes his way towards the holding pen. He is
an unofficial entrant who has procured spare kit and agreed to run the first
loop with the runners. The SBBU has found a kindred spirit.
The Spartan war chant is played. The competitors wish each
other well. Goose bumps prickle the arms. Everyone is in good spirits. Feet
cross the start line and head out past Settebello restaurant, out the gates of
the Italian Club and into the leafy suburb of Essexworld. The race is underway.
The first loop is festive and easy. It’s at a talking
jovial pace.
After finishing loop 1, we found out that Marc The Shark
did not start the race due to an unpredictable ITB. The SBBU had taken its
first victim.
It is later announced that, Simzo and the Flightless
Eagles, when it was evident that they were both running in teams, were
disqualified. Everyone knows the law that Spartan Babies need to complete the
SBBU solo.
Ben keeping dad company
Several hours later…..Sunday 30 April –
3pm (Loop 6) – The Munger
The Munger is leaning against the railing of the stairs,
sweat dripping down the contours of the stress lines of his face. He is one of
the 100 milers and is barely making the cut-offs. Someone has called me to
convince him to quit. He had been vomiting in the bathroom for 5 minutes.
“4 or 5 minutes. Lots of vomiting. He’ll listen to you. He
better pull out so he doesn’t kill himself.”
I walk over to The Munger.
“My boy, you are sweating too much. I heard you are
vomiting. Drop down to the 100ks. Let your body recover.”
The Munger looks up at me.
“I either do the 100 miler or I fail. I
didn’t come to do the 100k run. I’m all in.”
The Munger’s eyes blue like an Alaskan wolf show me he is
telling the truth.
“Make a call on the next loop. Don’t
break yourself.”
The Munger, overwhelmed by nausea and shortening hours,
quits after finishing loop 6.
The SBBU carves another notch into its belt.
Matthew, a baker from Bedfordview, decided to attempt the
SBBU as an unofficial entrant. His brother joined him for a few loops to assist
with morale. Matthew made it to loop 10 but could not go any further.
Matthew wrote a message a day later, “It was so so
awesome and thank you for doing what you do, definitely a memorable event and I
can't wait to give it another go 😂
I made 10 laps and then all my joints
and ligaments gave up on me, a learning curve for sure.”
Sunday 30 April –Loop 12 (9pm) Johnny
Cobra (100 miler)
Johnny Cobra found himself in a vicious circle. The harder
he focused and pushed, the more time warped and began to trickle through his
fingers. The 100 km runners could see it happening. They had time to go to the
ablutions, to get an ankle strapped, to get a hot drink. John barely had enough
time to peel a naartjie before the cowbell rang.
We thought he’d quit at about loop 9. But he didn’t. He
made it back to the barracks in time to have a sip of water and dry his brow
before going out once again into the fray. He scraped out loop 10 and then
finally decided to call it quits on loop 11. He walked to his cot and sat down.
A few seconds later the cowbell rang.
John immediately sprung to his feet. “One more loop!” he shouted.
And off he went.
We laughed like madmen and went out into the dark night.
Finally, after having completed 12 loops, John pulled the
pin on his 13th loop. He had been sprinting down the only downhill
section of the course when he stopped. Abruptly.
“That’s all I have to give. What a
ride!”
Or something similar that only an asylum escapee would scream
when surrounded by straight jackets.
John finished his loop, fell onto his cot and passed out
for several hours. He would tally up his numbers to over 100ks, and leave the
barracks with the title of “Baby”.
The Warmonger, Johnny Cobra and Belloc72
Sunday 30 April –Loop 14 (11pm)
Warmonger (100 miler)
Running a race with competitors and friends around you is
one thing. Running when others around you have capitulated to the distance can
only eat away at your resolve. Warmonger was finishing each loop in good
spirits and with a zip in his step. But he seemed to have too little time to
fuel and hydrate. After settling himself into his camping chair, he would only
have a sip of water or something small to eat. It didn’t seem enough. For the
energy he was exerting, I thought he would be shovelling in the carbs.
Just before midnight, after having completed over 90kms
, I
saw a smile on Warmonger’s face.
That’s me, his eyes declared, and he fell down onto his thin rubber mat on the cement floor and went to sleep. He looked like the victim of a skydiving accident. Mothers can only dream of their newborn infants sleeping like Warmonger slept that night.
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| You can't hold back The Warmonger |
Princess was running like a champ. Small tight steps
gliding on the tar. He was leading the way for his son, Bricius, whose methodical
running style was turning into a grimace. A father and son running an ultra is remarkable
and something to behold. Love and courage. Exemplary discipline and infinite
love. Every loop that we saw them together was a warm buzz to the stomach.
And just before midnight, Princess pulled the pin. It was
the same time as Warmonger had abandoned his 100 miler. He’s off to help
Crazy Hazy, I thought to myself. If someone called The Warmonger abandons
anything, it’s clear you better assess the situation. Princess opted to look
after his wife, Crazy Hazy, who was still on the move. Crazy Hazy does what
she does, I have always thought because she has Princess as an
accomplice.
When we heard Bricius was still doing loops, it cemented
what I had thought. Pops look after mom, the son carries on. At
midnight, when the moon was burning away the clouds, this all made absolute
sense to me.
So much love in the world, I thought.
Monday 1 May –Loop 16 (1am) Bricius & Terminator
Bricius and Terminator finished their 16th loop and both chose not to carry on. It was a good call. Either you make the call or the SBBU will. Irish Spartan would go on to find that out the hard way on his 24th and final loop.
Monday 1 May – Loop 23 (9am) Irish Spartan
Irish Spartan is 64 years old. He is the oldest SBBU
runner. He was running and walking like a champ. Few chinks in his armour. And
yet somewhere out there on the 24th loop, the victory loop almost,
the SBBU took another soul.
The rest of this story - pieced together from witnesses who
saw the incident and who can no longer be located - should be taken with a
pinch of salt. As with all legendary tales.
Irish Spartan was found ambling somewhere in the suburbs. A
dad pushing his kid in a pram found the Irish Spartan on the side of the road.
Things did not look good for Irish Spartan. So the dad took out the kid, placed
Irish Spartan in the pram and pushed him up the hill towards the finish line
several kilometers away.
15 minutes after the race had ended, in hobbled Irish
Spartan who has being propped up by the guiding hand of Claudia the Great’s
husband. Irish Spartan stumbled in leaning heavily backwards, his chin to the
sky, like a drunkard being drawn back to the pub by magnets. The cheers from
the crowd and challengers carried Irish Spartan and his mischievous smile over
the finish line.
Several hours later, Irish Spartan sent Johnny Cobra a text, “When can I enter for next year?”
Monday 1 May – My last loops
Bia Figmo kept me company in the wee hours of the morning.
We chatted about families and how to fix the world’s problems. When the sun
refused to rise at its designated hour, Bia Figmo acted in its stead and would buoy
up my hopes and spirits with her positivity and humour. We could only laugh at
the desperate situation in which we were entangled where our bodies slowed down
as time sped up.
One of my rowing friends, Nuno, walked with me for the last
few loops. I was in a bit of a tricky position and he was helping me stay
fuelled, hydrated and, more importantly, upright.
I am not 100% certain I could have finished the SBBU
without the help of Bia Figmo and Nuno.
A year ago, I told Johnny Cobra that doing the SBBU was not
that hard as long as: you paced yourself, rested when you could, and kept fueling
the body.
Somewhere out there in the wee hours of the morning, I added a caveat to this:
If at any stage you show weakness, the SBBU will chew you up, grind your bones and break you. Mess with the SBBU at your peril.
Nuno, Belloc72 and the Walshinator
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| Bia Figmo |
SBBU Press Release: On Sunday 30th April 2023, 40 runners will be attempting the Spartan Baby Badass Ultra (SBBU) at the Italian Club in Bedfordview, Johannesburg. It is a 100-kilometre self-supported running race where 36 runners will run 4.167 km every hour, on the hour for 24 hours. In addition, 4 runners will run 4.167 miles (or 6.7 km) every hour, on the hour for 24 hours to achieve the 100-mile (or 161 km) target.
The runners will do a variety of loops around the beautiful gardens of Bedfordview and through the grounds of the Italian Club, past the unique SetteBello restaurant and alongside the neighbouring Italian retirement village, Casa Serena. The runners are everyday non-professional runners doing the Ultra to test their limits in a safe community environment. All money raised is part of a CHOC Cows event. All money will go to CHOC who help kids with cancer.
Any runner who cannot finish the SBBU will need to hand in their race number and stand to attention while a bagpiper plays Taps confirming their abandonment of the race.
SBBU 2023 fundraising page: https://www.givengain.com/ap/the-cow-herd-raising-funds-for-the-cows-57844/
You can follow SBBU race updates on Instagram at: https://www.instagram.com/sbbu_official/
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