Today was the running of the Comrades Marathon.

The Ultimate Human Race.

This was the ninety-ninth running of one of South Africa's most iconic sporting events.

It is often said that every person should consider running the Comrades at least once in their lifetime.

Those who have completed it speak of the experience with almost reverential respect.

Some run it once and never again.

Others become lifelong devotees.

They speak of the discipline.

The sacrifice.

The perseverance.

The friendships.

The indescribable satisfaction of crossing the finish line.

As I watched the runners today, my thoughts turned to one of my favourite scriptures:

"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith." — 2 Timothy 4:7

For many runners, the Comrades is about far more than running.

It is about finishing.

And that thought transported me back forty years.

MY FIRST COMRADES MEMORY

In 1986, I was preparing to begin my high school years at Haythorne High School in Pietermaritzburg.

My sister Belinda was already there, living with relatives.

That year the Comrades Marathon was an up run from Durban to Pietermaritzburg.

My cousins took me to the finish at the then-named Jan Smuts Stadium.

I can still remember the atmosphere.

The emotion.

The excitement.

The celebration.

Even now, forty years later, I can still picture it.

A few weeks later, I found myself back in Pietermaritzburg.

This time not as a spectator.

This time with Fulham FC.

We were competing in the Clover Natal Cup against Colonials FC.

Travelling with us was our coach and manager, Uncle Roland van der Byl.

To us, he was simply:

Oom Blokes.

THE PEOPLE WHO STAND IN THE GAP

Over the past few weeks, I found myself thinking about Oom Blokes.

Then, quite unexpectedly, I drove past him last Thursday.

The very day South Africa played Mexico in the opening match of the World Cup.

I immediately decided that after church on Sunday I would visit him.

I bought a small gift and looked forward to sharing memories of days gone by.

What I did not expect was how emotional the visit would become.

As we spoke, memory after memory came flooding back.

Football.

Boxing.

Athletics.

Tennis.

Life lessons.

Encouragement.

Advice.

Correction.

Support.

I suddenly realised that Oom Blokes had been far more than a football coach.

He had been one of those dependable adults who quietly stand in the gap when young people need guidance.

Every community needs people like that.

Every community needs an Oom Blokes.

Someone who shows up.

Someone who cares.

Someone who believes in young people before they believe in themselves.

EXPOSURE CHANGES LIVES

One of the lessons Oom Blokes taught us was the importance of exposure.

He understood that young people need opportunities to see beyond their immediate surroundings.

As our boxing mentor, he ensured we attended major tournaments.

I still remember meeting boxing legends like Peter "Terror" Mathebula.

I remember the excitement surrounding Sugarboy Malinga.

Many people may not know that Sugarboy's first professional bout took place at the Limit Hill Tennis Courts.

Think about that for a moment.

A boxing event held through cooperation with a tennis club.

Different people.

Different interests.

One community.

That lesson stayed with me.

Great things happen when communities work together.

THE A4T LENS

As I sat with Oom Blokes, I realised something.

Long before Acts4Transformation existed, I had already witnessed it in action.

Not in a formal programme.

Not in a strategic plan.

Not in a funding proposal.

But in people.

People investing their time.

People sharing their skills.

People opening doors for others.

People helping young people discover their potential.

Before there was Panthers Basketball Club.

Before there was the Limit Hill Youth Club.

Before there was Acts4Transformation.

There was Oom Blokes.

And there were many others like him.

A NEW BEGINNING

Then something unexpected happened.

After our wonderful afternoon of reminiscing, Oom Blokes' wife, Aunty Charmaine, began showing me the projects she now pursues in retirement.

I was amazed.

Beautiful quilts.

Crocheted blankets.

Creative designs.

Handcrafted treasures.

Her hands seemed incapable of being idle.

As she showed me her work, I found myself asking:

"Would you be willing to teach some young people these skills?"

Her answer came without hesitation.

"Yes."

And just like that, another possibility emerged.

What began as a visit to honour the past suddenly became a conversation about the future.

A full-circle moment.

THE COMMUNITY SPIRIT OF A4T

I also found myself remembering something else.

Many years ago, it was Aunty Charmaine who gave me my very first holiday job at Checkers.

At the time, neither of us could have imagined where life would lead.

Yet here we were decades later, discussing how skills could once again be passed from one generation to another.

That is the community spirit of Acts4Transformation.

Not waiting for government.

Not waiting for funding.

Not waiting for perfect conditions.

Simply neighbours helping neighbours.

Skills being shared.

Knowledge being transferred.

Doors being opened.

Legacies being continued.

CLOSING REFLECTION

Today, thousands of runners crossed the finish line of the Comrades Marathon.

Each carried their own story.

Their own struggles.

Their own victories.

As I watched them, I realised that not all races are run on roads.

Some races are run across generations.

The baton is passed from mentor to student.

From coach to player.

From parent to child.

From one generation to the next.

Forty years ago, Oom Blokes invested his time in a group of young people.

Today, the impact of that investment is still unfolding.

Perhaps that is the greatest lesson of all.

We often measure success by money.

Or status.

Or achievements.

But maybe the greatest legacy we leave behind is the people we helped along the way.

Every community needs an Oom Blokes.

And perhaps the question each of us should ask is:

Whose Oom Blokes will I become?