As uncomfortable as it may be, facing your fear will always lead to growth. Once we prove we can show up for ourselves even in the most daunting moments, we learn how resilient and strong we can be. We chat with four women who accepted the challenge, embraced their fears, and learned how to fly!
I AM A RUNNER
Lee-Anne Singer, 47, lives in Sunset Beach with her kids, Ruby, 14, Joseph, 12, and Daniel, 10. Lee-Anne is a Marketing Director and is involved with the tourism board in South Africa.
“When I was younger, I fell into the sporty crowd, but there was one activity that daunted me to my nerves’ end: running. I had this crazy pair of knock knees and was so fearful of the activity. I remember having to run rings around a dam for a school activity every Friday, and I absolutely hated every minute of it.
This was something I felt insecure about. My knock knees and snail’s pace always led me to come in last. My friends would never outrightly tease me, but the fact that I struggled to run was always a bit of a joke, and I felt like I should have been able to do a bit better.
Fast forward to 2012, after having my first two children. I was ready to up my fitness again, and decided to get a personal trainer, named Fernando. A few days into knowing him, inevitably, he tried to get me to run on the treadmill. Heaven’s forbid, no!
I expressed to him how much I hated running, and how I had this emotional block and fear of it. ‘Running is other peoples’ jive, not my own…’ I exclaimed.
Two days later, Fernando popped me a message asking for my ID number, which I assumed was for administrative reasons, only to realise a few hours later via email confirmation that he had signed me up for a Two Oceans Half Marathon in Cape Town.
I thought: ‘What the fudge, is this guy crazy? There’s no way on Earth that I’m going to run 21km!’ I protested vehemently. I told him there was no chance, it was not going to happen.
Then, my father fell sick. He was struggling with ill health and started to lose his vitality and energy. He lost a lot of weight and wasn’t himself anymore. It was on my mother’s 60th birthday when I first realised that something had to be wrong. He had not bought my mom a gift and went to bed early during her birthday bash. I thought this to be quite assholic of him, and had words with him the following morning, to which he didn’t say much…
Then, he got progressively worse. After going for tests, it became clear that my father was riddled with cancer. After diagnosis, he was booked into the hospital on the 10th of April. As painful as it was to see my dad suffer this progressive sickness, we were by his side every step of the way.
During his hospital stay, I had a change of heart about the marathon. I was thinking of my dad – he was a soldier and he didn’t raise his daughter to be a quitter, so I just had to run.
Every morning, before visiting my dad, I would train with Fernando in a parking lot, running from one parking bay to another, and then from one street lamp to the next. Deep down, I still didn’t believe I had what it took to see it through, but I persevered.
Ten days after my father was admitted to hospital, he passed away. He died with his loved ones at his side, just three days before his birthday on the 23rd of April. Coincidentally, this fell on the same day as the Two Oceans marathon. Call it a sign from the universe, but I just knew I had to pull through with it, for myself and for my dad. No matter how heartbroken or afraid I was, I was going to run.
And so, I found myself at the starting line with 21km ahead of me. Hands shaking and knock knees in tow, I was ready to face my fear. At one stage whilst running, I passed the hospital where my dad’s body was being held. This was one of the proudest and most heartbreaking moments of the race. My dad was there, in the hospital, and I was out there, running. Life was fleeting and beautiful, all at once.
Crossing the finish line was one of the most incredible moments of my life. At that moment, I knew there was nothing on Earth I couldn’t do. Me, who’s not a runner just ran 21 km. On my dad’s birthday. I felt so powerful.
Then, life went on and I stopped running after I gave birth to my third child, who was born with special needs. Caring for him and being his mom become one of the greatest and most challenging gifts I have received. I lost track of my fitness, and only picked it up again when COVID-19’s lockdown hit us in 2020. I went on to train in the gym for two years but never picked up running again.
Then, in April 2022, I visited Madrid. While I was there, planning my next move from Barcelona to Madrid, the universe threw something at me, on the anniversary of my dad’s birthday and death.
As a lover of live music and art, I googled ‘bands that are playing in Madrid’ after hearing that the Red Hot Chilli Peppers would be performing. Instead, something else caught my attention. An ad, for a half marathon in Madrid staring right back at me…
I don’t know what I was thinking, I hadn’t run 21km since the first race. I entered nevertheless, scared to tell anyone, just in case I wasn’t going to pull through with it. Alas, there I found myself in April, on the anniversary of my mom’s birthday, dad’s birthday, and dad’s passing.
It was a freezing cold morning when I found myself running the half marathon in Madrid. With a group of handsome 20-something paratroopers beside me, chanting their way through to the end, I felt motivated to keep my pace right through. I conquered yet another opportunity to prove to myself that I was my dad’s daughter, my fear of running would never get the best of me again.
Now, I run as many 5 and 10-km races as I can. The energy at a marathon is infectious! I constantly remind myself that I am a runner. One doesn’t have to be Serena Williams to be an athlete, it’s about conquering what your own body can do. The race is just against nobody but yourself, to be the best version that you can be. Sometimes, the universe will give you a little push along the way, take the plunge!”
I MADE PEACE WITH ME
Makhomo Overvoorde, 37, lives in Randburg with her husband Harry, 38, and their kids Kamohelo, 16, and Elizabeth, 6. Makhomo is a Therapeutic Mental Health and Wellness Coach.
“I had always been more anxious and panicky than those around me. In my teenage years, this made high school extremely difficult. It was my ‘normal’ to be anxious 24/7. The older I got, the worse it became. Without ever acknowledging that I might be struggling with my mental health, I pushed forward, navigating my day-to-day in panic mode.
In my 20s, I started my career as an actress and gained incredible opportunities to move to England and pursue my love for performing. This, however, became a challenge with my anxious, panicked nature. I would freeze on stage in the middle of live productions, riddled with anxiety. The more it happened, the more I spiraled. On top of my baseline panic, I became paranoid about suddenly blacking out on stage.
Then, about 10 years ago, I was admitted to hospital whilst rehearsing for a big production. The state of my mental health had led me to not sleeping or eating, and in turn had mucked up my gut health. Back then, the connection between mental and gut health had not been made in the medical realm, and doctors weren’t able to identify the root cause.
I was hospitalized in England twice during this period and missed out on two big productions that I had worked really hard to get into. My GP recommended seeing a therapist, but I couldn’t afford it at the time. Feeling defeated by my mind and body, I put acting on the back burner and fell into the wellness space, as a holistic massage therapist. Listening to and working with people has always been a passion, and I became invested in the holistic health of my clients, whilst fighting a silent battle of my own, with a storm silently brewing inside.
This carried on for another decade until January 2022, when our family had just returned from holidays and I had a panic attack. It was scary stuff, and I was convinced that was it for me.
From one moment, sitting next to my husband watching football highlights to the next, being rushed off to the emergency room, it was all a blur. It felt like I was having a heart attack. The nurses checked my vitals and I was fine, nothing obvious was wrong with me. To me, it felt like I was dying. Any reassurance the doctors offered was fruitless.
After this episode, I was bedridden for a year. I couldn’t get myself out to see anybody, let alone leave the comfort of my bed. Leaving the comfort of the covers triggered my anxieties, I was convinced that death was waiting for me around every bend.
I would work myself up thinking there was something seriously wrong with me and developed ‘health anxiety’, which led me to Google every sensation that I felt in my body – which only made me more fearful. Google always predicts the worst. I didn’t want to be left alone at all, afraid that I would keel over and die, scared that my children would return home from school to find me that way.
During this time, my husband and brother were my biggest support. Slowly, I started to work on myself. I tried it all – meditation, affirmations, you name it. Anything to keep my mind from spiraling. Then, I saw an advert for a meditation retreat on Facebook, something drew me to it. I knew I needed to start somewhere. I thought, perhaps, attending this retreat would be the answer. Even if leaving the home was a big struggle, I made a commitment to attend.
This retreat was a turning point for me. As difficult as it was, I showed up. I would still have panic attacks during meditations and would leave sessions, but the four-day retreat was enough to make me believe that I could leave the room, and my house, without meeting my demise.
Whilst at the retreat, a woman said to me: “You have to acknowledge that it is happening in your head only.”
When I heard those words, I could have punched her! When you’re in a dark place, hearing that your mind is the only thing holding you back, is not what you want to hear.
When I was healthy enough to go and see a psychologist after returning from my retreat, I was diagnosed with severe panic and anxiety disorder. After taking perscribed meds for a day, I opted to go the natural route instead.
What really stuck with me was the weight of those words from the woman I nearly knocked out. I reflected on what it means to be in control of your mind, and I realised that taking control of your situation is exactly what you need to recover. Either you take the wheel to drive your mind, or it drives you.
And that’s how I faced my fear, by consciously taking steps to deal with my panic and anxiety, instead of letting it consume me. I sat with the feelings, acknowledged that they were happening, and actively took steps to move forward and shift my attention to what would nourish my mind.
A big part of the process was eliminating triggers that would make me spiral.
I cut out unhealthy food, and stopped drinking socially (drinking helped alleviate anxiety in the moment, but would make me feel worse, in the long run). I went as far as cutting out people and spaces that triggered me. Once a lover of all things true crime, I knew I also had to eliminate the content I was consuming and shifted towards focusing on reading, watching, and listening to things that would help me improve my circumstances, not provoke my anxiety.
I still get anxiety and panic attacks, I think it’s something I’ll be dealing with for life. The difference is, I’m in the driver’s seat now. Compared to my first panic attack 10 years ago, which lasted for 24 hours, my last panic attack in September 2022 lasted for less than a minute, until I was able to get it under wraps and move forward.
It all comes down to knowing that you come before the anxiety and panic. If you struggle with this, don’t give your disorder too much attention, give yourself too much attention! When you look for things to keep yourself busy with, those things should help you live your best life, and show you how to be happier, instead of triggering you. Feed your soul with light, and it will shine through in the darkest moments.”
MAKING THE SUMMIT
Anga Malatji, 35, lives in Midrand with her husband James, 40, and their children Rati, 9, and Rui, 2. Anga is an office manager.
“I struggled with heights from a very young age. I would always avoid high buildings and bridges because of this fear. I remember my first time taking a flight, goodness…it was such a nightmare, and my trip was tainted by the experience. Turns out, I’m not a fan of hurling through the sky in a large metal tube. Anyway, I digress…
In December last year, I visited my older sister in Cape Town for the holidays, with my two kids. It had been a challenging year, and I was ready for some much-needed R&R, though I wanted to end my year off on a good note, by conquering a challenge instead of being conquered by it.
I decided I would do so by facing my fear of heights! Since I was in Cape Town, hiking Lion’s Head was a no-brainer. Of course, my kids played a big role in inspiring me to take the plunge. I wanted to show them that you can do anything if you really put your mind to it. I had to practice what I preached.
My support system was amazing. My sister, Thembakazi, went as far as buying hiking gear just for the occasion and my niece, Precious, lived up to her name by holding my hand throughout the journey, until I reached the summit. My kids motivated me along, as I thought of driving home the message that you can do anything you want when your will is strong enough.
There were instances where I wanted to quit halfway up, as the mountain got steeper. I vividly remember sitting down and calling my sister and my husband saying:
“I can’t go any further, I am too scared of the height”.
It got worse when we had to pass over metal ladders and climb over rocks, but somehow, I pushed through.
One thing that really stood out to me, was the amazing community of hikers we passed by on the way. Strangers would walk past and leave us with encouraging words – “You can do it! You’re almost there!”
Lion’s Head is no easy feat. It’s a 669m summit all the way up. In moments where I felt overcome by fear, I was honest with myself and I admitted that I was scared, but reminded myself that I want to be a conqueror, and could not allow fear to stand in my way. Seeing my kids look up at me was enough motivation for me to push through and carry on.
When I reached the top, the view was breathtaking. The victory was mine to take home. I felt immensely proud of myself. Seeing my kids smile back at me was my medal of achievement. I felt like I could conquer the world!
Now, I’m hooked on finding opportunities to push myself out of my comfort zone and into a new challenge, because that’s where the real growth happens. I’ve never had the courage to wear high heels, but I’ve conquered that one, too. (With a little practice!)
Fear is a tool if you use it correctly. Facing your fear is more than worth it! Go for it, and don’t allow your mind to hold you back. It’s easier said than done, but you’ll be so proud of yourself once you’ve climbed your mountain, whatever that is to you. We all have one life to live – so make the best of it! You can do it!”
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