It’s on the bucket list. Comrades. It’s there. We have a date together sometime in the future, it may be next year or the year after that or even many years from now. But we’re going to meet. And I really hope we like each other, a lot. In the meantime, I’m just flirting. That means, just watching, clapping, then eating bacon and egg rolls, oh and trying to control 2 toddlers! Shishkmabab! surely this could be considered training?

Comrades preparedness (in the flirting stage) starts here. In Woolies. You buy your breakie goods and then wait with your fellow flirtees or seconds in the queue. You kind of get that patriotic feeling, even there in woolies because you know they’ve all loaded up with the same unhealthy breakie goods you’ve got in your trolley, ready for flirtations, ululations and whatever else people do alongside the road in support of the runners.


Our boys “up high” watching the action…


Tom…look at his eyes. He’s going on a date with Comrades too, don’t you think?





Oh? You didn’t you know that rusks taste better when dipped in orange juice?




The Skottel’s annual outing….


This made my heart smile…you’ve got runners in the thousands going past, music playing, spectators everywhere and yet these two little boys find a patch of sand and are totally engrossed by it. I love the simplicity of it. The mindfulness of it, effortlessly living and enjoying the moment they’ve found themselves in……aaaah.



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