There was a chill at the starting line of the ADDO 50km that felt less like the morning cold and more like a shiver of anticipation down the spine of the brave (or foolish!) souls who chose to face it.

Despite all the miles logged, the early mornings, and the late-night strategies devised over bowls of pasta that I’d convinced myself had magical carb-loading powers, nothing could have fully prepared me for the journey that lay ahead.

As I lined up at the start, the uncertainty was palpable. I started off well (better than expected!) and I felt, against all odds, prepared to give it my all — to push through the pain and uncertainty. Yet, there was an underlying realisation that my injuries could flare up at any moment. It wasn’t a question of if, but rather, when.

I was barely 8km in when the ground beneath me turned traitor, twisting my ankle that I’d spent weeks looking after. By the eleventh kilometre, my stomach decided to join the mutiny — each step feeling like a negotiation with my own body.

During my stride from 10–30km, I could barely walk, my stomach was in open revolt, forcing me to stop by the nearest decent bush multiple times along the way. My ankle, now a traitor to my cause, throbbed while my hips took on the load.

And as I got to the first aid station, the medic — a kind soul with eyes that had seen too many stubborn runners — advised me to call it a day.

My reply?

“Let me just make it to the next station”.

Things weren’t looking good.

Because of my injuries, the group I had started with had no choice but to leave me behind — which stung. In a space where my competitive nature mingled with camaraderie, watching them fade into the distance was both an emotional and physical blow.

But when all odds are against you, that’s precisely when you learn the true meaning of resilience. It’s not about the clarity of the path ahead but the ability to take one more step, then another, and another — even, and perhaps especially, when you’re unsure of what to expect.

It’s as Rumi once said, “As you start to walk on the way, the way appears.”

Faced with a body in rebellion and the easy out offered by a medic, I made a choice. Instead of focusing on the finish line, I narrowed my world down to the immediate. The next step. And then the next (in the right direction!).

And don’t get me wrong, when you’re in the heart of the struggle, it’s human nature to wish for an easier path — in my case, for the ground beneath my feet to be less treacherous, the inclines more forgiving.

But it’s the very gravity of the challenge that makes overcoming it so infinitely rewarding. The sweetness of victory is often proportionate to the bitterness of the battle fought to claim it.

And life has a strange way of rewarding such bravery, as in the last 20km — I found my rhythm, with the remaining kilometres fading away, along with the number of runners ahead of me.

But the real twist came when I learned about my original group’s fate. They had taken a wrong turn 33km in, adding an unexpected 5km to their journey. This detour was the stroke of luck I hadn’t dared hope for but exemplified a crucial life lesson — sometimes, our biggest setbacks can lead to unforeseen advantages.

When I crossed the finish line, ahead of those I assumed would be waiting for me, it was a surreal moment of vindication and a powerful reminder of the unpredictability of life’s race.

So, the crux of this story, and the message I want to leave you with is to find a way to keep moving forward, no matter how hard.

It’s about understanding that regardless of the challenges we face, there is always, always a next step we can take. Sometimes, that step might be small, almost imperceptible. Other times, it might require every ounce of strength we possess. But it’s always there. And it’s up to us to take it.

The journey of the ADDO 50km taught me that sometimes, you have to slow down. You might even need to get creative with how you approach your obstacles. But stopping? Stopping is only an option when you realise you’re on the wrong path (quite literally like the group of front runners!)

Because when you stop, you give up on discovering just how far you can really go.

You miss out on learning what you’re truly capable of achieving.

Remember, the path doesn’t need to be clear for you to begin.

It unfolds with each step you dare to take.

No matter what race you’re running in life, no matter what storm you’re navigating, no matter how daunting the path ahead may seem, keep moving in the right direction. Embrace the uncertainty, the struggles, and even the pain, as each plays a crucial role in your growth and journey forward.

Life will throw curves, detours, and uphill battles your way. The key is not just to endure but to persist, to find creative ways to move forward when every fibre of your being screams to stop.

And as you’re reading this, I’m in a phase of rest and recovery, gearing up for the next challenge — The Beast in Cederberg on the 3rd of May.

Thank you for joining me on this journey — I have one last question for you…

What is the next step you can and must take?