On June 11, 2023, I found myself eagerly watching the Comrades Marathon, a race I had last followed in 2017. That year, around 18:00, I made a spontaneous decision to participate in the 2018 edition. In 2018, I lined up at the start but could only manage to cover 80 of the 89 kilometers. My journey continued, and in 2019, I finally earned my finisher’s medal—just before the races were canceled due to COVID-19.
In August 2022, I once again stood at the starting line, ready to run. This race was deeply personal, as my brother had passed away on June 6, 2022. I ran in his honor, navigating not only the physical challenges of the marathon but also a period of deep emotional turmoil. I realized that if the race had been held in June, I wouldn’t have been able to participate due to my brother’s funeral. That year, I had a difficult race, finishing only through sheer mental determination. I’m not a naturally gifted runner, but that has never been a reason not to run the Comrades Marathon.
In 2023, just after being discharged from the hospital, I sat down to watch the marathon. The excitement and FOMO were overwhelming. I relished the exhilarating start, imagining myself in the starting blocks, but the reality hit hard—I was a spectator for the first time in five years.
As the race unfolded, many South Africans, including myself, witnessed something unsettling. On live TV, during the people’s race, we saw three South Africans running with a foreigner in the leading pack of four runners, all wearing the same team colors. Shockingly, the South Africans did not share water or hydration drinks with the Caucasian foreigner. This behavior was foreign to the spirit of the Comrades Marathon, and it was a moment I found hard to process. It was unbelievable in the worst possible way.
Despite this, I managed to recover emotionally and prepared myself for the best part of the Comrades Marathon—the 17:30 finish! All I can say is, “Iyoh!” No drama, zero frills, no runners!
That was 2023. In 2024, with a new headline sponsor, the race was won by Piet Wiersma—the same runner who had been denied a drink by his teammates the previous year. Watching him run was like witnessing someone in perfect sync with his body and mind. After winning, Piet revealed that he had spent six weeks training at altitude in rural Kenya. Living humbly with Hosea Kiplagat, he shared a room with another athlete and bathed in a bucket. His routine was simple: sleep, eat, train, rest, train, rest, eat, and sleep. Piet mentioned that he spent a lot of time reflecting on his life and career during this period.
I believe that Piet Wiersma achieved a state of flow while in Kenya. A rural African way of life is humbling to the ego, connecting you to your true self, the community, and the universe. In one of his interviews, Piet mentioned that he plans to spend six months of the year in the Netherlands and the other six months in Kenya. If he commits to this, I suspect he might be winning the Comrades Marathon for many years to come.
The highlight of Piet Wiersma’s story, for me, is how he, as a Westerner, embraced a truly rural African lifestyle—one that is egoless and spiritually connected to nature. He achieved a state of consciousness and did what was necessary to win.
In contrast, Tete Dijana and his fellow competitors acted in a very Western manner in 2023, and they experienced karma in 2024, served by the same man they had denied a drink. The race was a huge success, at least for those of us watching from home. The 17:30 finish was dramatic, as it should be, and it also marked the end of sponsorship from a betting company. I believe that the Ultimate Human Race has little to do with statistical chances. There are no real losers in the Comrades Marathon because it’s not that kind of race. Everyone who lines up is racing against themselves, with their own goals in mind. You cannot bet against yourself.
As for me, I am done with the Comrades. I will cement my participation by placing my name on the Wall of Honour, and that will be the end of it. I never dreamed of running the Comrades, but I did. I ran to show myself—and my inner self—that we could do incredibly difficult things. My body and mind needed to be stretched beyond my imagination, and they were, in the Ultimate Human Race that is the Comrades Marathon.