The Crazy Fruitcakes, Durban

Jenni-Lynn Marillier, Founder

Some people think we’re nuts, running in the cold weather. At this year’s Ox Pecker Trail Run, dew had frozen on our tent, and the ice cracked when we opened it to get out.

In today’s society, it’s hard enough for people to share their true feelings, let alone support each other. But I met my friends when they were running: sweaty, no make-up, hands on their knees, huffing and puffing. When we got together in a social setting, I thought, I have so much respect for you. I felt like I could be honest with them, without judgement.

Friends are the fruitcakes of life; some are nutty, and others are soaked in alcohol. I started our group with my next-door neighbour Kathy, my cousin Carrie, and a work colleague, Karen; so I guess you could call me the egg that binds all the ingredients together.

We are a group of 18 to 20 trail runners; some of us refer to ourselves as ‘hobblers’, others are ultra-marathoners. We live in the Upper Highway area in Durban. We are aged between 45 and 55. Our occupations range from ‘business-owner’ and ‘accountant’ to ‘medical-sales rep’.

Typical Durban people, we love the outdoors. We have strong family ties, and one thing that cements our bond further is that our families get on well together.

Everyone who’s in our group was ‘found’ on the trails. For example, Leanne had stopped during the KZN Summer Trail Series; her hydration pack was sloshing because she hadn’t got all the air out of it. So we helped her, and then fumbled our way to the finish line through the mist. When we swopped numbers – because she wanted me to forward some photos I’d taken – I discovered she lived within five kilometres of me, and asked her to join us.

Through running, we support one another: we cheer each other on at races, push each other up hills, and hold each other’s hand over river crossings. I came off my mountain bike just before the Molweni Trail Run this year, tearing my AC ligament. The realisation there was no chance I would be ready for the race was devastating. Then Leanne said: “You may not be able to run, but you can walk.” So, one arm immobilised in a sling, I walked with her for two weeks. If it hadn’t been for Leanne, I might’ve written running off completely.

It translates to our relationship outside of running. We braai together, camp together, go out for ladies’ nights, and have Christmas parties. And, boy can we laugh. Wet-your-pants laughter!

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