Running Doula update

Incoming from Melinda, one half of the comedy charity duo that is the Running Doulas.
It’s a brief account of their weekend away in Knysna and their experience of the dreaded Knysna Half:

 The Running Doulas got off to a somewhat unfortunate start. Unhelpfully, disaster struck the day before the race, when I woke up with the beginnings of a cold. This led to a stressful day of indecisiveness before eventually agreeing to leave the decision to a doctor in Plett. After initially suggesting I decide based on how I felt on race day (which I naturally interpreted as ‘full steam ahead’), the GP called back having consulted another physician, and told me unequivocally not to run. Nothing like being banned from doing something to bring out the pig-headed in me! Decision made.

Race day arrived in a cold, dark and early fashion. An hour-long wait for taxis was followed by a hair-raising taxi journey up to a freezing cold, mid-forest start. We barely noticed. Wrapped in bin bags and Jet blankets, we joined the thousands of nervous runners lined up and waiting. A delayed kick off does nothing for the already frayed nerves, but happily four months of training and plenty of terrified projecting all evaporated as the Running Doulas headed off into the forest for our first ever half marathon.

The first 3kms of the race were mostly uphill. The next ‘undulating’ section could better be described as, um, uphill. The views were spectacular which almost made up for the pain. Almost. And just when the relentless uphill came to an end, the route led to the longest steepest downhill I’ve ever had the misfortune of encountering. Many runners walked it. Others ran it backwards or sideways in the interest of using different muscles. All of us cursed it. And then possibly the cruelest part of the race – on finally reaching the last flat 6km section, the route passed under a bridge before leading us to stairs. Stairs! I’d just run 15km. I very nearly sat down and sobbed.

Kim and I both struggled through the last few kilometres on exhausted legs to cross the finish line in under 3 hours. So enormous was our delight that you’d be forgiven for thinking we’d finished in the medals. There were hugs, cheers and probably unsurprisingly, tears.

Without a doubt, it was the support that carried us through the hardest parts of a tough course. Donations are still coming in but it looks like we’ll raise at least R27000, nearly double of original target. To all who supported either by donating or spreading the word – thank you from the bottom of our hearts. You’ve genuinely made a difference.

Great stuff!
My favourite bit was when they put stairs in the route after 15km. That’s like someone throwing broken glass into the long jump pit from the 8m mark onwards. “Congratulations on your fantastic achievement in getting this far. Now, in recognition of your efforts, we’re going to scar you. Permanently.” (a bit like this)

But I think that the real takeaway message from this is that fat figure in the last paragraph: R27,000. I’ve been doing some rudimentary calculations and I reckon that equates to 180 MatPacks. And that’s going to make a huge difference to 180 new mothers and their children. We’ll try and get another follow-up later this year to see how that money has been spent.

Well done Melinda and Kim.

P.S. It’s never too late to donate™ – here are the banking details you require!

P.P.S. Corroboration of the chilly, delayed start story by PamieJane here.

Fishhoek view

Wow. Some party. Drunkenness, loud music, wigs galore.
And this view across Fishhoek bay when you took a little time out in the cool evening air.

There are other photos, of course, most (if not all) of which will mean more to those present on Saturday night. Don’t you hate the way that flash photography makes it look like there’s absolutely no atmosphere? There was plenty. I didn’t even realise that the dance floor was concrete until I looked at the photos. No wonder my feet hurt.
But anyway, you’re more than welcome to go and have a quick look and see if you recognise anyone. This being Cape Town ‘n all. [note: I was going to put a link to my “Cape Town is a very small world” post here, but I cannot find that post, despite searching for all the seemingly relevant terms. Hint: There’s very little point using the words “Cape Town” to search for anything on this blog.]
Scratch that – found it!

Bed at 2, kids awake at 5:45, spend day in soporific stupor (yes, even more so than usual).

Such is the life of a partying parent…

Support the Running Doulas

Hello readers.
Here’s something you can help with: the Running Doulas.

It sounds like some sort of comedy act (and in fact it may well turn out to be rather amusing to watch) but actually it’s two ladies doing something for a very good cause.

Firstly, you may not be conversant with the word “Doula”. Wikipedia can help here:

Doula is a word that has most closely become associated with a woman or man who provides non-medical support to other women and their families during labour and childbirth, and also the postpartum period.

In countries like South Africa, where the public health system is at best pretty awful, doulas are invaluable aides in the maternity wards. If you or someone you know has had a baby in a first world healthcare system or in the private healthcare system in SA you might want to compare your experience with this typical scenario:

The majority of  mothers are young, unmarried, have had no antenatal education and are desperately poor. They return home after a traumatic and lonely birth experience, on public transport, within about 6 hours of giving birth. All too often, they return within a year to give birth to another child.

It’s no exaggeration. Spend any time on Portswood Road near the Somerset Hospital and you will see many young women waiting for a minibus taxi, looking tired and scared, awkwardly clutching a bundle of blanket. It’s a heartbreaking sight.
And much as you might like to, obviously you can’t help every single one of these mothers. But what you can do is make a difference to some of them, via these Running Doulas I was telling you about.

Doula Kim and Trainee Doula Melinda are running the Knysna half-marathon this weekend to raise funds for Maternity Packs, each one of which:

…goes a long way towards changing the birth experience of the young mother who is touched by the gesture and better prepared for her first few weeks of motherhood.

Each pack costs R150 (£13.50, $21.50) and you can see exactly what’s in one here.

Aside from the important reasons that they are doing it, it should be noted that the Knysna half-marathon (or the “Knysna Half” as it’s known to those of use who are in the know about writing about other people running long distances) is no ordinary run. It’s widely regarded as one of the most difficult and dangerous races on the local running calendar.
This is primarily because of the knee-sapping, cartilage-busting, mainly downhill route and the wild animals which still roam the ancient forests of that area; we’re talking elephants, zebras, wildebeest, griffins, dragons and unicorns.
Well, we’re talking elephants, anyway.

But I digress. Often.
You can help Melinda and Kim by supporting their run and donating to their important and worthy cause via this bank account :

Name: MA Rollinson
Bank: Standard Bank – Thibault Square branch
Number: 274999277
Ref: MATPACK

If you want to get in touch with Melinda about the run or with any other doula-related query, you can email her here or via twitter here.
And to show our support for the cause, 6000.co.za is putting our money where our mouth is and donating 2 packs.

Please spread the wealth by clicking a button below and sharing this on Facebook or Twitter. 

We’ll let you know how they got on when we know how they got on. OK?

Heart v Head

I desperately want(ed) to get down to the coast this weekend. The weather this week has been atrocious (once we’d got past Tuesday with its ridiculous midwinter 30 degreedness) and the wind has whipped up some epic swells around the South African coast. The weather service were warning of 7m off Agulhas. Yummy.

I love that kind of weather. It’s dramatic, elemental, Wuthering Heights kind of stuff. I would much rather wander along a beach in a gale, with crashing surf and disturbed seabirds than sit there in the baking sun, baking.
There are other considerations though. Family, for one, two and three. Coming from South Africa, rather than the UK, they are not so keen on the epic waves and howling wind. They want sunshine and warmth. They like to be able to see the sand to sit on and to dig in, rather than have it littered in smashed weed and marooned jellyfish. Suffice to say, their preferred conditions are not going to be much in evidence this weekend. And there’s more to do with two small kids in Cape Town than in a tiny village miles from anything except a windy beach and a wild sea.

Add to that the frankly rather scary conditions forecast for the Cape on Sunday – if you thought last night’s ice storm was bad, just wait – which is when we’d be doing the 230km back and it’s sadly a no-brainer. Or rather an all-brainer and a no-hearter. Not that I struggle to drive safely in storm force winds and heavy rain, but unfortunately, it has come to my attention that a lot of other people in this country do.

So I’ll be around this weekend, I think. Which makes it all the more important for you to take the few seconds required to ‘like’ the new 6000.co.za facebook page, download the 6000 miles… feed Android app or even the one for your Nokia Ovi, thanks to Nokia SA and #mobiblog.
And – big news – the 6000 miles… iPhone app is under development and should be with you shortly. Possibly even more shortly now that I’m going to be around some internet for the next few days.

So many ways to stay in touch. No excuses anymore.