They call it “Joburg’s Toughest 21,” and every year, thousands of us flock to Greenside to prove… well, I’m not sure what we’re proving, but we certainly feel it in our calves. I first ran this race in 2019, the saying “it gets better with time” might not apply with this race.
The Morning Chill: Better Cold than Bold
The morning started with that unmistakable morning cold. It was freezing, the kind of cold that makes you question your life choices while standing in the starting pen. I was dressed in a short t-shirt, and short tights. I regretted this decision but as any seasoned runner will tell you; rather cold breeze than the heat wave we experienced a few days before the race. This was actually the perfect weather for a run, but it didn’t feel that way at the beginning. And for a course this steep (excuse the pun), you’ll be praying for that morning frost by the time you hit the 5km mark.
The Internal Grumble
Sooo… last ran this race in 2019. Somehow, in the years between then and now, my brain decided to “edit out” the sheer verticality of these streets. The first 10km were, quite frankly, brutal. If you saw me on the course and I looked focused, just know that internally, I was swearing at everyone. I was swearing at the hills, the organizers, my shoes, my plus one and sibling for not being there, and especially my 2019 self for forgetting how much this hurts.
The mountains were never ending. And I say mountains on purpose. Just when you thought you’re passed the worst at a cheer zone by 8km, we were confronted by another 2km of hell. The cheer zone at the peak of the race provided comic relief; the crowd there had funny pluck cards. One said something about toenails healing, the one that made me laugh was one that said “Hurry up so we can drink”. It was funny cause I was looking forward to a beer at the end of it all.
One of the guys asked a lady who looked like she resides in the area who was on the sidelines cheering how her car gets up the hill, and she laughed so much. During this 2km, I looked around, and no one was running. The brave ones managed two steps of running then surrendered to the mountain in front of us. My body wasn’t tired, there was no cramp, and I was well hydrated. But this 2km was humbling.
Finding the Quiet
There is a magic moment in long distance running where the ego finally gives up. Nothing matters; the time, the pace, who is or not there. Around the 15km mark, the “why am I doing this?” voice finally got tired of shouting. I reached that elusive quiet mind state. Even though the slight pain kicked in, it became background noise. In those final kilometers, it wasn’t about the “never-ending steeps” anymore. The brief chatter in mind was kind, there was plenty of “I’m so proud of you”, “well done for getting this far”.
It was at that moment where I also enjoyed the greenery around me, and thanked the marshals who cheered us on. Before I knew it we were 19km in, with 2km’s to go. I literally blinked and it was 20km, and the long turn at the Pirates Sports Club towards the finish line. And just like that we were done at 2hours and 18 minutes. This was the first 21km since 2024, and the training on what I thought was a steep hill in Sandton paid off.
The Verdict
Will I forget the pain again by next year? Probably. Will I be back? Absolutely. As with every runner, when the legs still hurt you swear never to do it again but once you heal, you prepare for the next one.
Have you ever ran this race, how was it?
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