Cape Town Marathon cancellation brings South Africa closer than ever
The recently cancelled Cape Town marathon has reminded us what makes South Africa so unique, so special – its people.
While waiting to board my flight to Cape Town this past weekend, I noticed a young child maybe six years old peering through a small airport window, looking out at the planes
parked on the runway.
“Look, Mom! There’s a South African one!” she exclaimed with pure excitement, pointing at a
plane proudly carrying the South African flag.
“I want to go on the South African one,” she said again, her eyes bright. I smiled, touched by her enthusiasm and patriotic spirit. She looked a little disappointed when her mother explained that we weren’t flying on that plane.
It got me thinking about what that flag means to me – and immediately, in my mind’s eye, came flashes of rugby, the bush, the Big Five, beauty, braaivleis, boerewors, Nkosi Sikelel’ iAfrika, beer, and biltong. But most of all, what makes South Africa truly special is, its people – diverse, colourful, and full of heart.
People with different accents, stories, and experiences who together create a tapestry of warmth, resilience, and spirit. “South Africa”, still affectionately called home by many who have long left its shores.
Feeling content, I drifted off for a nap on the flight. We landed safely in Cape Town not long
after, and I made my way to the DHL Stadium to collect my race pack.
Excitement was brewing, I had a marathon to run the next morning! After a quick shake-out run along the Sea Point promenade, I turned in early for a good night’s rest.
The Wind Changes Everything
On Sunday morning, I woke before my alarm, ready and eager to run. I went through my
usual pre-race rituals – runners, you know the drill – and was just about to head
downstairs when, at 04:51, my phone pinged.
A message from my coach: “Race cancelled. Stay home.”
Disbelief. Surely not? My phone buzzed non-stop as messages poured in from fellow
runners – confusion, disbelief, disappointment. The official confirmation soon followed: the
Sanlam Cape Town Marathon was cancelled due to gale-force winds that had damaged
infrastructure at the race village, compromising safety for runners and volunteers alike.
It was a huge blow. Over 24 000 runners had trained for months, travelled from all over the
world, and dreamt of crossing that finish line.
So… what now?
The Race That Still Went On
I decided to head to the beach anyway to watch the sunrise – though, rookie mistake, I
quickly remembered the sun sets over the Atlantic, not rises. Still, the morning was glorious.
And there they were – runners, everywhere.
Dozens at first, then hundreds. Some solo, some larger “buses” led by enthusiastic “bus
drivers.” There was laughter, singing, jokes being exchanged. The Bootlegger cafés along
the route were buzzing – some runners sipping coffee, others cheekily celebrating with a
beer. Spectators lined the promenade with homemade placards, cheering on the runners
who had shown up anyway.
Even elite athletes like Gerda Steyn joined in. The spirit was unstoppable.
We didn’t have medals or official water tables – but we had blue skies, laughter, and each
other. The “race” had been cancelled, but the run still went on.
It was a powerful reminder that while the wind may have blown the event away, it couldn’t shake our spirit. South Africans showed up, as we always do – with heart, humour, and
unity. United, we ran.
Final Thought
It was, no doubt, a massive disappointment for organisers and runners alike. But as I jogged
along that beautiful coastline, I realised that the true victory wasn’t in the timing mats or the
medals, this time it was in the resilience of our people.
Because in South Africa, when plans get blown away… we just lace up, smile, and run
anyway.