Notes from the Tsitsikamma Ultra

This is sample content about a race day. Swap in your actual splits, snacks, and feelings.

The Tsitsikamma doesn’t do small talk. You start, the forest closes behind you, and for a long time the work is just: foot, foot, don’t trip on that root you have definitely seen before.

I like ultra days because they are honest. You can have a clever training plan and still get humbled by a climb that looked friendly on the profile. You can feel invincible at kilometre twelve and like a damp sock at kilometre thirty. Both versions are you. The trail doesn’t pick a favourite.

What I remember, more than the time on the clock:

• The smell of wet wood after a shaded descent
• A volunteer with a table of bananas who said “looking strong” in a way that was clearly a kindness
• The moment the canopy opened and the light felt like a reward, not weather

I ran some of it. I hiked some of it. I had a quiet argument with a gel packet. I finished with that hollow, ringing feeling that means the day did its job.

If you’re thinking about the Ultra: train on tired legs, respect the descents, and pack the extra socks. If you’re not: that’s also a valid life. There are flat whites for that.

Next time I’ll write down the real numbers. This time I mostly wrote down the trees.