My tattered, old training diaries inform me that to date I have run 16 Johnson Crane marathons, 9 half marathons and one Johnson Crane 10km. The diaries also remind me that I first discovered this iconic race in 1981. My faded notes from 44 years ago tell me that I “jogged “2:37 minutes for 6th place on 25th January 1981. (Nowadays I would be delighted to run 2:37 for the half marathon.) I shared the 1981 team prize with my Wits teammates (Mark Plaatjes (1st) who would go on to become world marathon champion in 1993, the late and greatly missed Dr. Alan Edwards, (12th) and physiotherapist Graeme Lindenberg 16th)

That 2:37 6th place was the fastest time I ever recorded at the Johnson Crane marathon. Not because my racing went into decline, or that I became a slower and slower runner, ( I ran my lifetime p.b. two years later at the Buffs marathon (2:17)) but because I realised that the Johnson Crane was not a marathon I was obliged to race every year, but rather a marathon I could enjoy. For me it became a fun training run and a celebration of running for running’s sake rather than one in which I had “to go for it”

Every late January I would join a small group of running friends at the start of Johnson Crane marathon. Then, as it still is today, the Johnson Crane was the first significant marathon in Gauteng. We would run it as a training run, finishing in a handful of seconds under three hours. We were young and fast then, so always bearing in mind that there is no such thing as an easy marathon, three hours was routine for us. The race was a party for us. We would run and joke, and tease each other, and laugh and gossip. Our sub three- hour bus grew until it was a rumbling train trundling through Johannesburg’s East Rand suburbs because, as we ran we were often joined by friends from the local running clubs in Benoni, Brakpan, Springs and Benoni. Our voices could be heard loudly echoing along the streets of Benoni.

As it is today the race was always brilliantly and efficiently organised. And the fun always continued after the run was completed. We would sit in groups and braai, eat burgers and drink beer. It was rare for any of us to get home before the late afternoon. I remember always boasting a significant runners’ sunburn the morning after the race.

I write so enthusiastically about our sub three-hour training bus, because it was a cunning and fun way to complete a long training run. I have always believed that a runner has two choices when faced with a 40-kilometre training run. It can be run solo or, with one or two companions along the streets and country roads of his or her city. Or it is possible to cover the distance in an organised race. I prefer the latter choice. I found running on my own incredibly boring. I enjoy my own company, but after 20 kilometres or so I run out of things to think about. It’s boring to tell yourself jokes where the punchline is no secret, or gossip that you’ve already heard.

I preferred to pay the entry fee, and I still do, and in return be happy to be contributing to a great running club and to our sport, while at the same, to be given in return, a brilliantly organised 42-kilometre run, with marshals, seconding tables, and an accurately measured course. In addition It has always been a pleasure to earn a coveted Johnson Crane medal. I have all my Johnson Crane medals safely stashed away in a sturdy big brown envelope. I intend to add another on Sunday, albeit a 10km medal.

Not everyone is able to rein themselves in and run slowly in a race and that is perfectly understandable. But for those who can, two vital principles need to be considered to ensure the race does not overwhelm us.
The first step is for us to swallow our ego and pride. We need to learn to accept defeat and just shrug our shoulders. We must learn to agree to swap fast times for solid training. Some runners cannot do that. I once tried to persuade the legendary Frith van der Merwe to accompany me in a slow-paced race where we would train rather than race. Frith simply could not do that. Before I could blink, she had shot off down the road in pursuit of the leaders. Of course, Frith was so dominant in those days that the temptation to pursue the leaders would have been overwhelming. Frith could give the other ladies a 10 minute start and still catch them.

The second step is to have the necessary self-control to start slowly, and then to run at the correct training pace. Just like Frith van der Merwe many of us become different animals when a starting gun is raised. Our competitive juices start flowing, we pull our war visors down, and charge into battle as soon as that gun is fired.

The best way to combat this competitive urge is to disadvantage ourselves as much possible by lining up at the back of the field in amongst the slowest runners. This ensures that that by the time we cross the start line all hope of fast times and glory has evaporated. It also helps to train hard the day before the race so that we start the race with tired legs.

Having said all that let allow me to contradict myself and urge those who are looking to earn qualifying times for the TotalSports Two Oceans or Comrades Marathon in a few months’ time the Johnson Crane marathon remains a perfect up country marathon qualifier in which to “go for it”

So, on Sunday I will be back at one of my favourite marathons celebrating running with 12000 others. I will only be running the 10 kilometre event but I am looking forward to yet another a wonderful morning at the Johnson Crane marathon.