KERRE MCIVOR
AFTER BUENOS AIRES, KERRE DECIDES SHE HAS ANOTHER MARATHON IN HER
It was a very quiet little team that gathered together for a traditional pasta dinner before the Buenos Aires marathon. We had a first-time marathoner, the gorgeous young Tessa, who was running with her mother. We had another who was clocking up her 61st marathon, and three other runners who had various marathons under their belts.
The runners, understandably, were nervous. Tessa had no idea what lay ahead, while others knew exactly what they were tackling in the morning. I’m not sure which is better – to not know or to have full knowledge of what is to come.
My mate, Niva, and I had signed up to run the marathon months ago, but we realised that we hadn’t done enough training to run it, so we became part of the support crew. Led by Gaz, our running coach, we promised the girls that we would be there at the seven kilometre, the 18km and the 25km marks to cheer them on and supply them with extra water and sustenance if they needed it.
I told the girls that it really was very exciting and that soon enough they’d have Buenos Aires marathon medals around their necks, and that we were getting major FOMO. “Are you really sorry we’re not running?” Niva asked as we nestled into the bar back at our hotel to enjoy a little nightcap. “Crikey, no!” I exclaimed. “I couldn’t think of anything worse to be doing tomorrow, but I could hardly tell them that, could I?”
Out of sheer relief, we had another nightcap and then tootled off to bed. The support crew met for breakfast and then headed down to the seven kilometre mark. We had two black flags with us, with the silver fern and New Zealand emblazoned on them, and Gaz had brought his speaker and programmed a great selection of Kiwi songs to spur on our runners. We felt sure they’d see us even if we didn’t see them – or hear us, anyway. There were few supporters out and about, though it was early in the run. The local participants seemed a little startled when they first saw us but most grinned and waved back, calling out All Blacks or Kiwis as they ran by.
The All Blacks were playing Argentina the following weekend and the locals seemed to recognise the silver fern.
We saw our girls and they looked great. Fit, strong and focused. After the last one passed by, we made our way up to the main road to catch a taxi and see them at the 18km mark. We waited at the lights, flags draped over our shoulders and heard a “kia ora”. A good-looking young man in a car was waving to us and as he went by, we realised it was Sonny Bill Williams. That was a bonus for the supporters. At the 18km mark, we saw five of our six runners, but we had to wait a long time for Stella. She was in trouble.
The smog had caused her to have a bad asthma attack and she couldn’t breathe. She’d finished seven marathons before, but Buenos Aires wasn’t going to be her eighth. You can push through many things in a marathon but an inability to breathe isn’t one of them. We were gutted for her. The only thing worse than running a marathon on the day is not running one when you’ve done the training and you’re ready to go.
There was more drama when young Tessa sprained her ankle in a pothole in the road and when Michelle was nearly pulled off the course by officials as there was a cut off time but, ultimately, five of our six runners crossed the line and we are so very proud of them.
For Stella there’ll be another day, and as for Niva and I, while it was great fun supporting, we’ve decided we’ve got another marathon in us too. Maybe next year.