It’s interesting how we perceive things, compared to how they turn out. I was scheduled to take a casket and body, along with a family member of the deceased to one of our most challenging airstrips. After that, I was scheduled for a second stop to take a mother and her special needs child back to their village.
Read moreSello's story
Sello at Wally Hayward Marathon
Morabaraba Sello, or just “Sello,” as we call him, is a 28 year old Masotho lightning bolt. I met Sello one day out on my typical training run in Maseru, Lesotho. I was putting down the normal slow and efficient pace that ultra-runners get accustomed to, and came across a local runner doing fartlek training by posting some of his buddies at specific light posts with stop watches. While it wasn’t uncommon to see runners out on the road, Sello stopped me and excitedly started asking me questions about running. Not asking me for anything, but just wanting to know more about the sport. I saw a guy who was ready to drink up any help that I could pass his way, and started off by assisting him with my old watch (one of those giant Garmin Forerunners that bent around your arm), and a few small kit items. A few weeks later he sent me a picture on Whatsapp. A simple shot he took of the screen of the Garmin. It said Dist: 10km Time: 29 min. I had to look at it a few times. Once I was convinced that he hadn’t hopped on a taxi and left the watch recording, I knew he had something special in his legs. With a bit of coaching, some extra nutrition and gear, Sello was on his way to running some races in SA. In 2018 he did a few half marathons, and had bad luck with being disqualified for issues with the Lesotho athletes permits. He won a few small events here and there, but then told me he wanted to have a go at the marathon distance. His first Marathon was the Wally Hayward Marathon in 2018, where he placed 7th in a time of 2:29. He also placed 2nd at the Clarens surrender hill marathon later in the year. In 2019, he wanted to focus on Mandela Marathon, and the Soweto Marathon.
During the Lesotho winter, he moved to the area of Oxbow, which is one of the highest and coldest places in Lesotho. He did this with the intention of doing high altitude training. On a training plan I had developed for him, he camped and lived in the mountains for about 2 months, getting ready for Mandela Marathon.
Of course, as luck would have it, the week of the race he got flu and had to drop out around the 20km mark. But he set his sights on Soweto and kept the training intensity high.
Just before Soweto, a few of the Lesotho athletes were given a pair of shoes from a company (I wont name them). This was given as a kind of sponsorship deal, although it only included the one pair of shoes and the requirement that they run with them on. Unfortunately they were not very good shoes, and many of the athletes who used them dropped out. I was following Sello online, and was excited to see him post a halfway time in Soweto of 1:12. A few minutes back from the leader. From there he slowed down, affected by pain in his feet from the shoes. He took them off for the last few kms, and finished in 2:45, in 66th place. Respectable for sure, but he was disappointed.
Knowing his disappointment, I jumped at a substitution entry to the Lesotho Ultra. I was running anyway, and why not let him have a crack at a trail race, seeing as his road schedule was done for the year and he had the fitness to do just about anything.
After winning the 38km Mountain Challenge
Having grown up around the corner from Maliba lodge area, and living life as most basotho boys do, climbing mountains, riding horses and tending the herds, I had no doubt his technical ability would be faultless. With some private sponsorship from friends, Sello was at the start line with a new pair of Asics trail shoes (the only pair of shoes I could find that were small enough!), and all the gear needed for trail races like this one. The back of Sello shooting off the line was just about the last thing anyone saw of him until he crossed the finish of the 38km race in 1st place, 20 mins ahead of the record! What excites me about Sello is his combination of talent, and passion. He just loves running, and will talk to me for ages, just asking questions about how to be faster and better. What to eat? How to train? What races he would love to focus on, and what records he wants to break. His biggest dream is to set a new half marathon world record time. Why not? Sello was born in Butha-Buthe, a northern district of Lesotho. He was born into a family with 2 siblings, and attended a local primary school, finishing standard 7. He moved to Maseru a few years ago, to be among more of Lesotho’s pro athletes, and to learn from them.
His dream is to run, and to do it fast. I’ve always though that the best athletes were the ones who had a combination of talent, and the attitude to put in the hard work to get the results. I firmly believe Sello has what it takes to be great, and I cant wait to see it happen.
(Written by G Strugnell, aka Coach ea Sello)
Freedom through limitations
What a nerdy pilot thing to say for a title, right? Like accountants saying they find freedom in a spreadsheet (I’m sure some do), or a mechanic finding joy in their cold, greasy toolboxes (I know some who do).
But here’s the thing: If I didn’t know what the limitations were in flying, I would constantly be nervous, questioning my decisions, and pulling life and death guesses out of thin air. And so, it is in the beautiful, predefined and consistent limitations that I find peace and joy as I take to the skies.
Flying in Lesotho is a constant process of evaluating limitations, and making sure we don’t run up into them. I find that from the moment I’m on duty to fly, I have these limitations and countdown timers running in my brain:
4hrs30 until sunset
1hr20 fuel remaining
50kg payload remaining
7 knots tailwind acceptable for landing
and so on.
These are absolute limits, and the only leeway we have is the margin we build in.
Yesterday I had a tough flight in the morning. I headed out and had very strong winds to deal with. I decided the safest course of action was to head home after my first stop and see if the wind improved later in the day.
As the day wore on, the countdown in my head started reminding me that if I was going to go out again, daylight would start to become a limitation. If we can’t get back to base in the light, we can’t go out in the first place.
Ahhh. Limitations placarded everywhere.
The flight I had remaining was short. Out and back, just over an hour total time. We were still within limits with lots of extra daylight to spare.
Then came a Code 1, emergency call, and it happened to be from the exact place I was scheduled to go.
We got the plane prepared with enough fuel, got the planned passenger loaded and ready, and set-off. We were already well into the afternoon, but had at least 30 minutes of margin with daylight.
Happily, the wind was calm and conditions smooth, and I landed at the destination, Nohana, with no problems.
The nurse who was waiting with the emergency asked if we could go to the district hospital with the patient, oxygen bottle, mother and nurse, and then return the nurse to Nohana.
In my mind this flagged some limitations:
Did I have space and weight to carry them, plus 2 other patients who were going to Maseru?- Yes
Would I have fuel for this? -Yes
Could I carry the giant oxygen bottle the premature baby needed?- With some extra time for loading and securing, yes.
Could I do this all and return in daylight?- No
It’s hard to make clear decisions when the patient is this tiny and all you want to do it help!
So then, on to Plan B.
Could the mother safely care for the baby with no nurse?- They determined yes.
Plan B it was.
After weighing all the patients, double checking we were ok with weight and fuel, and after strapping down the big oxygen bottle, we were close to being ready. The delays from decision-making, as well as loading, were turning my mental ‘green flags,’ into orange ones. Caution flags. We could still do this, but I had to be swift if we were going make it back in daylight.
The nurses explained that the ambulance was already at the airstrip in Qachas Nek, the place we were taking the mother and child, so that stop should be quick, and we could hand the patient off into the competent hands of the nurse.
Airborne from Nohana (pic taken on a different occasion)
We took-off safely, and I made every effort to stay as low as safely possible, as the premature baby was having trouble breathing. The oxygen helped, but I figured I should do what extra I could to give the baby’s lungs a chance. Climbing to 9500’ didn’t seem like a helpful thing to do, so I safely stayed down at 7500’ (the baby was born in a village at 5300’).
20 minutes was the best I could do to get to Qachas Nek, and we safely landed, only to find no ambulance waiting!
If they didn’t arrive in 20 minutes, I would have to make the call to not depart again for Maseru, and find some way for my extra 2 passengers to stay in Qachas Nek, instead of Maseru as planned. And I would have to keep the airplane company for a cold night on the airstrip.
The mental clock was ticking, and flags were almost turning red.
The mother and her baby
Then the ambulance arrived.
I quickly helped unload the patient and mother, and got back into my seat, and got things moving in the direction of home.
I still had buffer between the time now, my flight time to return home, and sunset. Enough buffer for me to be 100% clear that this was the right choice, to return home.
We got home by 5pm, 20 minutes before sunset. Well within limits for when we do emergency flights.
In knowing what the limits were, I was able to clearly and with 100% certainty, make a decision at each stage of this flight. Without them, I would have been guessing and hoping from the start, never quite knowing if my choice was going to get me into trouble or not. Without the limits, I may not have gone on this flight in the first place, and would have missed out on the chance to help that little baby get to better care.
In one short paragraph, may I expand this idea to encourage you all: Figure out your limitations, your boundaries. Don’t fear them, but let them channel and guide you. Knowing them will help you do more, and help you stay out of trouble.