November Round-Up: Races, Workouts, Radiation & a Ridiculous Amount of Gratitude

Active Living Active Living
11 hours ago
7 min read

Those of you who’ve been around here for a couple of years know that November is my month. My personal Olympics. My own self-declared Running Festival. My birthday season. Basically: I go race-mad and celebrate accordingly.

This year… well, this year came with a bit of a plot twist.

Multiple Surgeries and Radiation treatment for breast cancer has been a part of my 2025 journey — not exactly the “training plan” I would’ve chosen. And yet, somehow, beautifully, stubbornly, joyfully… I still did the thing. Still moved my body every day, strength training, run/walk, stretching etc A little slower, a lot more mindful, and with significantly fewer selfies. Turns out when your energy is limited, you save it for the running, not the Instagramming. Hence the low on photos post here!

I just wanted to move my body.

I wanted to feel alive. And goodness, I’m grateful I could.

Landmarks Half Marathon

November kicked off with the beloved Landmarks Half — a true Cape Town classic that raises funds for the Red Cross Children’s Hospital. If you’ve ever wanted a guided tour of the Southern Suburbs and simultaneously wanted to question all your life choices at 6am on a Sunday… this is absolutely your race. It’s sightseeing meets cardio meets mild identity crisis.

You start off at Western Province Cricket Club, which has been around since 1864 — long enough to have witnessed more “good lengths” and “bad umpiring decisions” than anyone cares to count. From there you head past Red Cross Children’s Hospital, the first dedicated children’s hospital in Africa (opened in 1956), where tiny superheroes get big care every day.

Next up: a scenic shuffle past a couple of Catholic churches, because nothing says “please let me survive this race” like running by holy buildings while sweating out yesterday’s pasta. Then you loop past Mostert’s Mill, the oldest surviving windmill in South Africa, originally built in 1796. Yes, a structure from the 1700s is standing there watching you struggle to run 21 km — humbling.

Then comes UCT, founded in 1829, which proudly hosts tens of thousands of students… and on that morning, tens of thousands of runners wondering why the campus is built entirely on hills. Every. Single. Direction.

Then you make your way toward Rhodes Memorial, perched on Devil’s Peak, where the stairs alone could qualify as their own ultramarathon. You don’t run up them, don’t worry — but they do silently judge your fitness as you go by.

Finally, you head toward Newlands Rugby and Cricket Grounds, iconic homes of South African sport. The rugby stadium dates back to 1890, the cricket ground to 1888, and both have seen more cheering crowds than I’ve seen gels in my running drawer.

By this point, you’ve basically jogged your way through four centuries of history, a few religions, several sports, and a whole lot of Cape Town character. And yes — it’s as fabulously lekker as it sounds.

Grape Run

Next up was the Grape Run — also known as “Let’s Pretend We’re Trail Runners for a Day While Surrounded by Wine.” Honestly, if ever there was a race that made you wonder whether you’re running toward the wine or the wine is running toward you, this is it.

The route snakes through Groot Constantia, which has been around since 1685 — yes, 1685 — making it the oldest wine-producing estate in South Africa. Basically, it’s been making wine longer than any of us have been making excuses about why we can’t run. Then you float through Constania Uitsig, which used to be part of the original Groot Constantia estate back in the day, and finally Klein Constantia, also established in the late 1600s and famous for producing a sweet dessert wine so legendary that Napoleon drank it and Jane Austen wrote about it. So yes — you’re panting your way through history while your calves are staging a civil uprising.

With 70% gravel and more hills than should ever be allowed in one postcode, it’s a route that humbles you and delights you. The views are as spectacular as the up hills — which is saying something, because the up hills absolutely deserve their own event management team. LOL.

By the finish, my feet were filthy, my legs were humming, and my heart was singing — because it’s impossible not to feel happy when you’re trotting through vineyards older than most countries. And since it was the day before my birthday, cake was eaten. As is tradition. As is law. I don’t make the rules — I just follow them with great enthusiasm.

Cape Prestige Trail Series Finale – Doolhof

We wrapped up the Cape Prestige Trail Series 2025 at Doolhof Wine Farm in the Bainskloof Valley — and honestly, the name fits. Doolhof means “maze” in Dutch, which makes perfect sense because at certain points on the trail I was fairly convinced I’d run straight into Narnia, got redirected into Middle-earth, and somehow ended up back in Wellington.

The estate dates back to the early 1700s, and the valley itself is part of a protected World Heritage Site. Translation: it’s ancient, it’s dramatic, and it absolutely does not care about your quads. The mountains surrounding you are millions of years old — which is comforting, until you’re halfway up a hill wondering whether you’ll survive the next five minutes.

The day delivered everything: Hills for days. Heat that could fry an egg on your forehead. Views so spectacular they should come with a warning label: May cause spontaneous life re-evaluation. Side effects include gratitude, gasping, and a sudden desire to sell all your belongings and become a mountain hermit.

I climbed. I sweated. I ran down flowing, joyful single track that made me feel like a woodland creature with expensive running shoes. I crossed wooden bridges that were… let’s call them “adventurously rustic.” The type of bridges that make you speed up not because you’re strong, but because you’re mildly afraid of gravity.

I may have questioned the meaning of life once or twice — usually on an incline, always while bargaining with the universe.

But the finish line? Oh, the finish line felt like pure joy. Especially with an ice-cold frozen Sterri Stumpie and a beer waiting on the grass afterwards. Happiness in a bottle, happiness in a cup, happiness in the form of “Thank goodness that’s over but also I secretly loved it.”

Doolhof never disappoints: the mountains challenge you, the trails humble you and the post-run treats heal your soul.

Winelands Half Marathon

And finally — the Winelands Half, one of my all-time favourites. I’ve run this race… nine times? Maybe? Honestly, I need to check Strava, race medals, race T-shirts, possibly old Facebook memories, and maybe phone a friend. It’s a confusing number but a consistent love story.

The route is classic Winelands: a rolling, undulating, “who designed this and what did we ever do to them?” kind of experience. Vineyards on one side, mountains on the other, and hills placed very strategically to test your character, your quads, and your sense of humour. And yet, every year, it pulls me back like a clingy ex. Except this ex brings beautiful scenery and medals, so honestly, no complaints.

This time, though, I ran it with a lump in my throat and a whole bouquet of emotions in my chest. Not because of the hills (okay, maybe slightly because of the hills). But because I realised — truly — how blessed I am to be able to move. To show up. To finish. To still be here, doing the thing my heart loves, even after a year that tried very hard to slow me down.

I came in one minute off my planned time. And honestly? That minute can go sit in the naughty corner. I’m proud. I’m grateful And I would absolutely run it all again.

What made the day even sweeter was running with some of the athletes I coach — and they absolutely smashed it. FABULOUS doesn’t begin to cover it. We had:

🏅 Route PBs ⏱️ Personal PBs 😄 All-round happiness 🎉 Legs that worked overtime and spirits that soared

There’s nothing like watching people you’ve trained absolutely own their race. It felt like my birthday present arriving early… wrapped in sweat, smiles, and finish-line high fives.

A Little Wisdom From the Road (and the Trails) This November taught me a few things — lessons gathered from roads, trails, vineyards, mountains, and one very emotional finish line:

✨ Your speed doesn’t define your strength. Showing up does. Some days you sprint. Some days you shuffle. Some days you just stand there breathing like a confused walrus — and that counts too.

✨ You can be tired and grateful at the same time. Those two emotions sit together surprisingly well, like unlikely besties.

✨ Joy counts as training. So does cake. Especially birthday cake, multiple times. That’s basically a recovery snack.

✨ Healing is not linear. But progress still happens in small footsteps, quiet moments, and brave attempts.

✨ Your body is not the enemy. It’s the reason you get to move through the world. Treat it with softness and respect — not demands and deadlines.

If you’re going through something heavy, or hard, or messy — keep going in whatever way you can. Walk, run, crawl, shuffle… joy has a sneaky habit of finding you when you least expect it. Sometimes halfway up a hill. Sometimes at the finish line. Sometimes in the people around you.

November was slower this year. But it was fuller, deeper, sweeter. And I’m grateful for every race, every step, every hill, every view, every friend and stranger who moved with me, and every reminder that life is something worth celebrating.