Lessons on Efficiency & Teaming from a 100-Mile Trail Race.
On 26 November, shortly before 4am, I completed my 7th 100-mile trail race. My time was 34:57 — 4 hours and 58 minutes behind my goal time.
I have enjoyed some of the major milers in the country: UTD, Karkloof and Mac Mac (still my daughter’s favourite of them all). As I have progressed in my miler career and learned more about what it takes to run this sort of distance, I have become progressively ambitious in terms of my goal time. Last year I paced a friend of mine, Michael Baker (Bakes), for 55km of the iconic Ultra Trail Cape Town (UTCT) Miler route. He went on to achieve a sub-30-hour finish, receiving the coveted Honey Badger badge. That planted the seed for me to give it a go this year.
UTCT traverses most of Cape Town, from Gardens to Signal Hill, up and over Table Mountain, and then through suburbs such as Llandudno, Kalk Bay, Hout Bay, Simon’s Town, Scarborough, Kommetjie, Constantia and Newlands. It’s a well-organised event which attracts runners from all over the world. The terrain is tough, with a mix of technical single track, tar and dirt roads, and some time on the beach. What makes it especially tough is the 7 200m of ascent.
For the previous six milers, my wife, Toni, has been my seconder. A seconder is someone who does not run, but waits for you at each aid station (where possible), ensures you have what you need, replenishes your hydration and nutrition, and gets you through the aid station as swiftly as possible. Your seconder can monitor where you are at and plays a vital role in keeping you going. It makes a significant difference being able to call your seconder before arriving at the aid station so that they can prep accordingly and adjust based on what your body needs. There have been many races where I was in a tough space, ready to call it a day, only to arrive at an aid station and have my wife get me back on track.
Due to circumstances, my wife could not join me this time. I made the call to go it alone, mainly due to the well-stocked aid stations that UTCT has on offer. Each of the 14 aid stations provides a range of items including sandwiches, Naak energy drink (a sponsor at this year’s event), banana bread, fruit, chocolate, and at some aid stations warm meals such as soup and wraps. In my mind, I thought I would just swoop in, grab some food, ask for my bottles to be filled, and then whip out of there.
Whilst I chose to run without a seconder, this was the first miler where I included a pacer. I wouldn’t have done so had my friend, Matthew Warriner (Matt), not shown interest — and I am so thankful he did! Matt joined me for the same stretch I paced last year: Hout Bay to Kommetjie, which is a 55km leg.
After an emotion-filled start with motivating messages from the MC and crowds lining the start line, I headed out with Bakes and a few others. I ran through the first aid station at Signal Hill pretty swiftly and continued on to the second aid station at Kloof Nek, 16km into the race. This is the aid station at which you prepare to head onto Table Mountain and into the night. It was here that I first became aware of how my solo mission may be compromised, realising the difference between self-sufficiency and having seconders. Kirsty Baker, Michael’s wife, met us as we ran in, instructing Bakes where to meet them next. I watched as he basically entered an F1 pit stop — ice bandana around his neck, bottles swapped out instantly, nutrition topped up — while he ate what he needed to. They have become a well-oiled machine: a unit organised around their runner’s goals, knowing exactly what needs to be done.
Whilst the aid station crew are exceptionally supportive, there are a lot of runners arriving who all require attention. I handed in my bottles for a refill and then went about adding in my nutrition mix which I had to dig out from my pack. Then I turned my attention to getting some food in. At this point Bakes flagged me that he was off! I struggle to eat whole foods that are dry on these runs, so I was battling to get food down when I saw him leave. I opted to eat some fruit and try to catch him. I grabbed a few items as I left, thinking I would reassess at the next aid station on Table Mountain. As I walked out, I had a niggle that I hadn’t utilised the aid station properly and wasn’t completely prepared for the next leg. I felt a bit disorganised and unprepared — and it played on my mind.
Having caught up with Bakes, we enjoyed the climb up to Table Mountain, drowned out by the sounds of cowbells and encouraging crowds. Then we hit Platteklip, which takes you up onto Table Mountain. It’s by no means the biggest climb, but it’s a decent haul over rocks and boulders, made easier by the ever-present sound of bagpipes filling the gorge. I generally climb well, but this climb did not go well. Half-way up I felt light-headed and hungry. I stopped to gather myself and watched Bakes disappear into the mist. The wind was hammering us and I felt disorientated. I dug around in my pack and found a naartjie which was a saving grace at that point. I paused to breathe deeply to calm my system, knowing I needed to push on. This was my first dark moment in the miler. Knowing Matt was waiting at Hout Bay was what got me going again.
With Platteklip behind me, I got into a cadence heading toward Table Mountain aid station at 27km. Before I got there, however, I tripped over a rock and slammed my arm into another. A pain shot through my arm and at first I thought I’d done serious damage. I lay there stunned before getting up and testing that nothing was broken. The dark moment before became darker, with literal darkness now fully enveloping me. I walked for a while, nursing my arm and feeling sorry for myself before I picked myself up and began to trot again. For those who know The Middle methodology, this was my Day 5 moment. I knew I had to keep going — albeit at a slower pace than planned.
Arriving at Table Mountain aid station was like arriving at an oasis in the desert. The crew picked up on where I was at, mainly due to my bloodied knees and me holding my arm. I asked for hot tea with sugar while the medics assessed me and cleaned the wounds. When I stood up, I felt a wave of nausea and knew I had to get out of there before I tucked myself into the medics’ truck for a ride back down to base.
Thankfully, I loosened up a bit as I continued along Table Mountain and my pace remained fairly consistent as I approached Llandudno. I managed to get myself into a positive headspace and wondered how far I was behind my original plan. Reminding myself that we must always have ‘a plan‘ rather than be bound by ‘the plan‘, I embraced the detour that had come my way and chose to run my own race and see what happened. But by now I was hungry again — becoming acutely aware that I was not eating enough. I knew I needed to eat more substantially at the Llandudno aid station, 37km into the race. This is where I was again confronted with the inefficiency of running alone. With a seconder, I would have called ahead and shared where I was at and what I needed — everything would have been prepped. It’s much like phoning in a takeaway order versus pitching up and only ordering when you arrive. As I arrived, I immediately asked for soup, which took a little while to arrive. While I waited, I readied my pack and replenished my nutrition and hydration. Then I sat down and forced myself to drink a whole cup of soup, knowing I had Suther Peak to tackle before heading down into Hout Bay.
The next stretch went relatively well, even though it felt like it dragged on. Matt met me at Hout Bay — an immediate uplift — as well as providing some supplies I had been thinking about for the last 20km or so. This was my next realisation in relying only on aid stations. As much as the food is top-notch, it’s pretty much a carbon copy aside from a few items. By Hout Bay I was craving variety — or perhaps more accurately, the food I would typically eat on a miler like this. With my struggle with solid foods, I was relying mostly on fruit which is nice but not filling or ideal for the entire miler. After changing my socks and eating what I could, Matt and I headed out the door.
Matt was nothing short of legendary. We passed the time discussing all sorts of things, and he consistently held a pace which kept us on track. It was brilliant to have company after losing Bakes early on and not finding anyone else going at a similar pace. I also leant on Matt to add variety to my food mix. Coming into Simon’s Town, we passed a spaza shop, so I asked him to buy me a Super M. At Scarborough, the aid station was next to a coffee shop so I demolished an iced coffee — a welcome reprieve from the wind and heat. At the Kommetjie aid station, I overheard his sister (who was fetching him) saying they were getting ice cream. Yes please! It was an indication of knowing my body was asking for something and having someone on hand who could provide it. Matt was my pacer and not my seconder, so he too needed to refuel at each aid station. The ideal scenario is a blend of pacing and seconding for sure.
I said goodbye to Matt at Kommetjie and was back on my own. Thankfully in the aid stations to follow I did meet up with several friends. Wayne Sandeman met me in Noordhoek and brought me some items I had asked for when he told me he was coming. Later, as we joined with the 100km route, I started to see Kate Martin who was seconding a good friend of mine, Dunx. She fed me and looked after me where she could — mindful of the fact that I was eating my friend’s food! Matt arrived again at Alphen Trail and helped me out yet again.
But I just could not shake the feeling that running alone was clunky and disorganised. I had originally thought that running alone would speed me up — but in fact, it slowed me down. Whilst I enjoyed the moments when I ran with or encountered friends at aid stations, the entire experience was not shared with a small crew or individual. In the end I crossed the finish line with no one waiting for me. I was elated to have finished but reflective of how different that moment was compared to my previous finish line experiences with my wife, good friends or family by my side.
Seconding someone is a tough gig. You are there to support someone else knowing that there is nothing in it for you, aside from the satisfaction of serving someone else toward their goal. You don’t get a medal, you stay awake for long periods of time, and you have to deal with your athlete’s emotions and low points. You may even get shouted at! The runner is the main event, and everything is really about getting him or her across the finish line. While you do get thanked in the social media post, it is generally a pretty thankless task!
In reflection, I have been thinking a lot about the concept of a team, and especially the lessons from this miler that speak into the context of a corporate team. Like my run, in corporate there are different divisions. Some are revenue-generating and on the ‘front line’, and others are support divisions ensuring the engine room keeps ticking over. In a miler, the teams work best when there is a clear goal, a marked-out path guiding you to the finish, pit stops to evaluate, measure and readjust, and clear roles between team members.
In the same way, all departments within an organisation need to be clear on the vision, associated goals and strategy to get there. There need to be frequent pit stops to reflect, celebrate, evaluate and readjust — and each individual and department should be clear on the part they play to ensure collective goals are realised.
My experience has been that when each department is simply taking care of its own priorities, inefficiencies begin to emerge and conflict arises — slowing down progress and stressing the system. With efficiency lost, the organisation wastes precious resources such as energy and time on conflict, duplication of work, meetings and mistakes. I am under no illusion that I may not actually have the talent to run a sub-30 UTCT. But I do know that I would have run faster if I had a full crew with all the key positions fulfilled. A well-oiled team, with a strong support function, in my opinion, will often be faster than solo missions.
So what is the most effective team for running a miler and how does that translate to effective teaming in the corporate context?
The Runner → Frontline Staff
In a miler, the runner is the one out there, pushing toward the goal of finishing in a targeted time. In an organisation, this role is mirrored by frontline staff. These are the individuals and teams producing the product, engaging with customers, delivering services and generating revenue. They are the engine room if you like. Just like the athlete, they carry the immediate pressure of performance and require clarity, focus and support to execute effectively.
The Seconder → Line Manager
A seconder supports the runner throughout the race, ensuring they have everything needed to perform at their best and adjusting strategy as conditions change. In an organisation, this is the line manager. They support the frontline teams with resources, help them to navigate change, monitor progress and collaborate closely with them to stay on track. The best seconders are consistent, steady, present and flexible. They don’t try to run the race themselves; they are the ultimate servant leader.
The Pacer(s) → Specialist Support Teams
Pacers join the runner for short, intense segments, offering experience, encouragement and tactical insight that can improve the race and the outcome. In a business environment, this role belongs to specialist support teams i.e. HR, finance, IT, marketing, or technical experts who step in when their expertise is needed. They don’t replace the manager but complement the team with targeted input that boosts capability and momentum.
The Coach → Mentor or External Development Consultant
A coach prepares the runner long before race day and is seldom present on the day. They build confidence, technical expertise and resilience. They help the runner with a race plan and focus on continuous improvement. Similarly, in an organisational context, the coach is the guide-on-the-side; typically, an executive coach, mentor, leadership developer, or external strategic advisor who focuses on growth, provides perspective and strategic input and helps individuals and teams map out their performance goals and how to achieve them. They won’t be involved daily, but their influence shapes the potential of the people in the organisation, so that the business grows.
In summary, I’m happy with my finish, especially with the high DNF (Did Not Finish) rate at UTCT this year. But I know I compromised my attempt at my goal by choosing to run alone. If you lead a team or organisation, ask yourself whether your teams are aligned and working together — or siloed and running alone. It’s imperative that we ensure that all teams, whether on the ‘front line’ or in the ‘engine room’, know that they play a crucial part in achieving success. Recognition can’t simply exist on paper. There needs to be strategic alignment and buy-in as to how the whole supports the achievement of collective goals. If front-line teams believe that support teams slow them down, get around the table and figure out the way forward. If support teams feel unrecognised and sidelined, get around the table and figure it out.
As I continue my ultra journey and support my clients in achieving success, I have a deeper conviction that in order to do what needs to be done — at the fast pace required in today’s world — we absolutely need to run together.
Travis Gale is the Founder and Managing Director of Appletree Group, a company dedicated to helping organisations shape and sustain strong, healthy cultures.
An organisational culture strategist, author, keynote speaker and coach, he has spent over 15 years guiding leaders and teams to thrive through challenge and change. He is the creator of The Middle Journey (TMJ). Featured in his book The Middle, TMJ is a practical framework that helps teams build grit and resilience in pursuit of their goals. Passionate and purpose-driven, he is committed to helping people and organisations unlock potential and achieve lasting success.