What could go wrong? Running 21km in Sandals...

In Feb 2025, while working out at the closest thing we had to a gym in Richmond, a friend mentioned she’d be running the Hillcrest Marathon as a Comrades qualifier. It was in two days time. It sounded like fun, and I didn’t have any plans for the weekend, so I told her I’d do the half marathon. I knew a few others who were running it too. I signed up that evening, excited by the idea of spending some active time outdoors with people.

Now… I had been running a bit - just enough to stay fit. Mostly on the farm, in my T-Rockets sandals. I’d bought them after reading Born to Run and had loved them ever since. I’ve always enjoyed being barefoot, so the transition was easy. I love the freedom they give me - not to mention how easy they are to clean after a muddy trail run. The problem? I’d never run more than 10km in them… and never on the road.

I stayed at a friend’s house the night before the race. I didn’t own road running shoes at the time, so I’d asked my mom if I could borrow hers. After almost forgetting to collect my race number on Friday, I was about as ready as I was going to be. It wasn’t my first half marathon, and I wasn’t there to race. With my lack of training, I knew better than to expect too much. I was just keen to get out there and have some fun.

Race morning arrived, and I sat in my car at 4:45am, completely torn. Road shoes made more sense - they were safer, more suited to the race. But I loved my sandals and really wanted to see if it was possible. So I made the call… based on the very sound logic that I’d been running in them so far and, really, what could go wrong?

Turns out… quite a lot.

I strapped on my sandals and started a dynamic warm-up as I made my way to the start with hundreds of other runners - most of them undoubtedly more prepared than me. I got a fair few side glances walking in wearing what looked like something Jesus might have worn 2000 years ago. The classic “Jerusalem Cruisers."

I started near the back - no rush, and no desire to get in the way of the serious runners. The buzzer sounded, and we were off… well, after some slow shuffling while us cool cats at the back got moving. I felt great as we cruised down Old Main Road through Hillcrest in the dark, heading toward Winston Park. I found myself wondering how my friends in the full marathon were doing, and how Amy was getting on after months of training.

I gradually started overtaking people, feeling strong but trying not to go out too hard. The sun began to rise ahead of us, painting the sky gold. Not a bad way to start a Saturday.

We wound through the suburban roads of Winston Park, and before I knew it, I was halfway. The race was well supported, and I spotted friends along the route cheering us on. It usually went something like, “Hey Robs! I didn’t know you were running!” - followed by, “What are you wearing?! Where are your takkies?!” as their eyes dropped to my feet. I’d just laugh and keep going, secretly enjoying the reactions. I also figured the more races I ran in them, the better my chances of scoring a free pair from T-Rockets… (still waiting).

I overheard a few whispers from other runners, until one guy finally ran alongside me and said, “Hey, those are like the shoes from Born to Run, right?” We chatted as we ran, and I did my best to hype them up - they were holding up well, and I was making good time.

That was… until about 18km.

Out of nowhere, every step started to hurt. And it got worse - fast. I tried to talk myself through it: just 3km to go, keep moving, you need to finish what you started. I did my best to hide the pain, but my pace definitely dropped (which was a bit of a bummer as I was ruunning better than expected).

Not long after, I passed some Richmond friends, supporting, who just shouted, “SANDALS!!” which made me laugh and gave me a small boost. The final stretch was uphill - something I actually enjoyed, thanks to all the trail running. Somehow, it hurt less going up.

Since the full marathon was just two loops of the 21km route, I passed my friends on their second round. Their expressions shifted from excitement to pure confusion as they clocked my footwear.

Okay Robs… not far now. Just keep going. Then you can rip these things off and sit down. By this point, every step was agony. But hey - silver lining - at least both feet hurt, so I wasn’t limping. Not sure that’s much better though.

My brain was all over the place:

Okay… think of something else… maybe I’ll get a milkshake - OUCH - after this…

I wonder how Amy did - OUCH

Just one more corner - OUCH

The grass near the finish line was a small relief, and I managed to pick up the pace. Amy, Sam, and Cassy were there, cheering me in. Amy had placed 15th in the women’s division - absolute legend.

They immediately chirped me about the sandals (fair - they had warned me). I tried to downplay how much pain I was actually in… didn’t want to ruin the reputation of my beloved shoes.

We snapped a quick photo, proudly showcasing the sandals, when a woman walked past saying, “I trained so hard for this race and thought I was smashing it - until this chick in freaking sandals overtook me and disappeared!”

I hobbled back to the car, and we headed out for a well-earned breakfast at one of our favourite spots. We hadn’t all been together in a while, and we’re not exactly a quiet group. At one point, a woman came over just to say how much she’d enjoyed listening to us laugh non-stop.

Sam lent me her cushioned shoes to walk out - by then, the pain had really escalated.

Despite my family’s advice, I didn’t get my feet checked. I figured a bit of rest and TLC would sort it out. A couple of weeks later, we went to Kosi Bay to watch baby turtles make their way to the ocean (blog: Waves of Wonder). I hobbled along… and even ran stretches of beach in serious pain just to see those little guys.

To this day, I’m not entirely sure what I did to my feet - but it took weeks before I could walk properly again. At one point I was in so much pain that I wondered if I’d fractured the bones in my feet.

I still love my sandals… but now I stick to shorter trail runs with them. Lesson learned - the hard way (as usual). I did, however, buy a pair of trail-running Altras as a compromise for my 36km UTD.

That said… I did hear someone ran the full Comrades Marathon in sandals.

So… maybe there’s still hope for me.