I guess I dont have a choice but to write a couple of lines on my Grand Raid in Réunion; else Ill be repeating the story millions of times over. Also, itll stop me from embellishing the story too much: after three Reds it tends to become an 800 mile race with snow, heat wave, without any water or food, SRT with over 20 000 meters of vertical rock climbing.

First things first: how to get to the Grand Raid for free. Easy: (1) pick a magazine with low circulation figures; (2) look for a competition with a prize that no one really wants; (3) send in 300 entry forms and (4) wait for the phone to ring. No, I wont divulge how much it cost me to bribe the editor of Runners World.

Anyway, having wangled myself a free trip, accommodation & entry to the Grand Raid, the fun really started: the training. As some of you are aware, I have done virtually no training in the last two years or so, meaning that I started off a "fairly low base" (like, minus 300 meters below sea-level). The really nice part about the Raid are actually the training runs. Ill mention a couple.

We all remember the famous day (in August if memory serves me right) whereby thousands of elitist runners sent in their entry for the infamous first ever Cedarberg Traverse trail run. Unfortunately the organisers had to limit the number of runners so, after various IQ, psychological and financial tests only two runners could be selected to represent Zuid-Afrika in this world-famous event: Martin Mills & yours truly. We broke the non-existing course record to clock up time of 9:45:30.38 and 9:45:30.39 (yes, a photo-finish) respectively. I wont bore you with all the details such as my lower back problem which prevented me from running faster than 10km/h on the downhills or Martins heavy backpack which prevented him from running faster than 10km/h uphill. Martin also doesnt believe in rest breaks or maps (he prefers to carry a library of unreliable hiking books with him). It was actually ideal weather for running and we had great fun (mainly before and after the event). Anyway, youve seen the documentary on SABC4 and read all about in the international press.

I did a couple more of this type of cross-country run such as the Three Peaks Challenge (24^th September) which was supposedly cancelled or the Swellendam Trail (Oct), which took me about 12 hours and served as heat acclimatisation training, too! But most of my training was running up and down Constantiaberg or trying to impress the ladies on the treadmills in the Constantia H&RC.

Anyway, everything went more or less fine until a week before race day when I pulled my calf muscle. The plane was overbooked and they in fact double-booked my seat, so I had to move to first class what a bore! I missed the race briefing And I can go on listing some more confidence building facts.

Race day starts at 00:15 when the bus picks you up (arrives hour late, of course), you try to snatch some sleep on the two hour drive and arrive at the starting stadium for equipment check (very thorough). And then, at 4:00 in the morning, the race really starts. I started conservatively (having tried to run 3 flat kays the day before and having to stop because of sore and tensed-up calf) but the calf muscle tension actually eased off after about 20 kays or so despite the fact that you climb 2400 meters in that stretch. The secret is to release pressure by running into a tree stump so that you have a huge bleeding open wound on your leg (the medics trie unsuccessfully - to cover it a bit about 60 kays (10 hours) further into the race when it was still bleeding). If you dont believe me, Ill show you my scar if you show me yours (ladies first in the queue, please).

Anyway, its actually impossible to describe the race. Very much like trying to describe the feeling of running Comrades to a weekends-only "round-the-block" jogger. Its just in a completely different league than anything Ive experienced before.

Somehow the statement "128km long, with 8000 meters of climbing (and same descending), mostly at 15+ degrees incline" doesnt seem to say it all. Platteklip Gorge is easy by comparison to some of the stretched. On average, though, very much like a lot of our trail paths, with quite a few very nice tracks. I guess I ran about 60 or 80 kays, the rest was too steep uphill or steep downhill walking. What impressed me most of all was the scenery: every 7 kay stretch is a completely different micro-climate & ecology. As they come to mind: sugar cane plantation, tropical forest, volcanic lava stream/rock, desert (moon? mars?)-like sand, high-altitude alpine like vegetation, "highveld" like bushveld, grasslands, forests, ravine, etc. I was also extremely impressed by the organisation & the people: organisers and volunteers were incredibly friendly, even by South African standards. Can you imagine a medical crew of say 5 camping in a tiny tent atop a peak for 50 hours, with supplies dropped by helicopter, close to 1500 people passing by and they just keep on being so friendly, helpful, positive and encouraging as one can possibly imagine.

The supply tables provide (every 7 kays) everything you need and much more. Plenty of various types of food and, as said above, friendliness abounds. I brought a lot of food with me from RSA but came back with most of it (will use it in the Sky Run instead). Handy were the dry/fresh clothes (T-shirts & socks) & battery/torch supplies. Luckily Dave Gassner, from Border, told me what to pack he gave me the most invaluable advice possible.

In one word: TERRIFIC. There were some problems with my registration (couldn't attend race briefing, no pic sent, not paid etc. - none their fault) and they went out of their way to accommodate me

Where ever possible, despite the fact that they had 1650 other runners to look after besides "this problem kid"! I could perhaps suggest one small thing here or there but, having been involved in some race organisation myself, I am *extremely* impressed with what they've achieved and how well everything was executed. Top notch!

Same goes for the volunteers at the tables. Just one at random: arriving in Marla (in the middle of a vulcano crater i.e. no roads lead out of this crater: only hiking paths with at least 500m or more to climb) around midnight. These people have been on the go since at least lunch time and already saw more than 350 competitors pass. I arrive as part of a bunch, we're all personally greeted, we're told to sit, what do you want to drink - coffee? soup? tea? hot chocolate? - can we get you something to eat? do you want a massage? how are you feeling? etc. I don't know how they keep it up like that

all the time.

I was a bit unlucky with trail running shoes which didn't grip on damp rocks i.e. too slippery and a torch which packed up after about three hours of use. Also, I took it fairly easy (see injury). I even slept for four hours in Grand Ilet (combination of lack of reliable torch light, fear of climbing the 33% gradient of Roche Ecrite in the dark and just being tired) but picked up at least half of the people who overtook me during my sleep on the "30km home stretch" again.

Having trained for a somewhat more competitive run (i finished only 303rd out of about 1500 starters - just under 33 hours I think) I actually felt great at the end of the run (put in a sprint) and was hardly tired nor sore - even jogged around quite a bit the same day. That's the nice thing about mountain running: you recover so quickly because of the different muscle groups you use.

Nevertheless, i normally reckon on averaging 5km/hour for trail running, and this worked out at 4km/hour so not too bad (but can improve quite a lot). I've got extreme admiration for the first three

who finished in under 18hours (locals) - though they probably know of a couple of shortcuts, I don't think anyone can overrate their achievement. Just awesome.

Was it worth it? Stupid question. Would I have paid R6000 for it? Probably not, but it would have been worth it! Will I go again? As soon as the bank makes a mistake in my favour.

All in all, this run was a good warm-up for the Eco-challenge "Fly High, Run Wild" Sky Run; a 150 km mountain run from Lady Grey to Rhodes on 28^th-29^th November. I was there last year when the event was cancelled halfway because of bad weather. I didnt mind too much since I was feeling cold, head-achy and lousy anyway. After failing to find a real man (Hans? DJ?) or woman (Fee?) at FHAC, I drove up with Ron Moody who went up for his fourth attempt his wife told him not to bother to come home if he didnt make it this time.

As last time, the always-friendly race organiser John-Michel and his wife welcomed us with open arms at the Umtali hotel. After the Runners World coverage last May, they got 65 registrations of which 50 turned up at the starting line. Weather was perfect: rain until the day before ensured lots of nice puddles-to-drink-from along the route and a thunderstorm rolled in again on Sunday afternoon after everyone had come down from Ben MacDhui, the highest point of the race and, incidentally, the Cape I believe (3001m). The first day was the toughest because of the very strict cut-off times. Apparently only 14 runners made the cut-offs though actually about 25 were allowed to start off the next day. No paths to follow for most of the time so a bit of orienteering experience helps (there were quite a few GPSs too). Scenery was magnificent views for ever. Air a bit on the thin side for us low-living creatures; highvelders were at a distinct advantages there.

This one is tough: the current thinking is that you get your permanent number after one successful run. My official finishing time is about 33 hours came in fourth across the finishing line though my total running time was probably not in that league. Strong mountain hikers probably have an edge over ultra road runners. But its well-organized, fun and definitely character-building. First time since my student days that I downed four beers in a row.

Ill definitely be there next year. I hope some other club members will be there, too!

(c) 1998 Jean-Paul Van Belle