Life Changes

We so often define people, and ourselves, by what we do, rather than who we are. Those definitions are a useful shorthand; whether it is occupation, pastime or passion. The down side to these labels is their one-dimensionality. Take elite athletes as an example; it is easy to extrapolate their talent, performance and results to create an image of an individual who simply lives for competition. For those of us that can only dream of podiums or high level success, it is maybe a natural assumption to make that those at the top define themselves as such and we neglect the rest of their lives; their goals and passions outside of sport, their motivation for competing and their longer term life plans. 

More than that, the very label of a ‘top end athlete’ is a fleeting one; a window of time that may last a few short years, occasionally much longer. All of us go through phases and transitions in our life, but what happens when the transition is away from the one thing that has defined our life up until that point?

Robyn Owen is mostly wearing her ‘mum’ hat when we speak. She is sitting outside her farm cottage in Stellenbosch, South Africa, sun reflecting off the whitewashed walls. Her daughter was born a few months ago and we squeeze in the conversation during nap time. “Adventure racing feels like good preparation for motherhood”, she proclaims with a smile, reflecting on her current state of sleep deprivation. It is towards the end of our call that we reflect on the phases of Owen’s life so far (she is only 32) and the labels associated with them. She has been an elite kayaker, adventure racer and trail runner. She is a coastal engineer and is about to embark on a PhD. She is a mother and a wife, daughter and a sister, friend and a thousand other definitions. But, focussing back on the reason I am speaking to Robyn – her immense athletic talent – she is standing at a potential crossroads as she contemplates returning to racing and the next steps of her life.

But, before we look forward, we look back. 

It’s still early enough in the Stellenbosch spring to warrant a fire to heat the kitchen as Owen prepares breakfast. Candles light the still-dark morning. She takes her first steps outside as the morning alpenglow is fading on the Jonkershoek mountains. Crooked teeth of pinnacles and peaks shine like a beacon. It’s impossible not to feel their draw. And so Owen heads out, sucking in crisp air as she moves from valley tracks to mountain trails. Cold spring water refreshes, leaving behind a dull, numbing ache that lasts long after being swallowed. Legs begin to find their pace as the day does too. Pre-dawn blues and violets begin to warm. Golden light eventually spills over the ridgeline opposite; rays of warmth, beams of pure joy.

Life confirming, life fulfilling light. It’s impossible not to linger a little while and soak up the unfolding vista.

“It’s still early enough in the Stellenbosch spring to warrant a fire to heat the kitchen as Owen prepares breakfast. She takes her first steps outside as the morning alpenglow is fading on the Jonkershoek mountains.”

“I was always quite outdoorsy, I suppose. I grew up on the east of South Africa, in Pietermaritzburg. We’d go hiking and biking as a family, and the area as a whole was just steeped in active people. The legendary Comrades Marathon (actually a 55 mile ultramarathon) takes place there each year, and I’d see so many people taking part each year; of all shapes and sizes and abilities. I think as a sporty youngster it instilled in me this idea that maybe the extreme wasn’t so extreme; you just had to put yourself out there.

“My high school offered a range of adventurous sports as part of the curriculum, including canoeing. I took to it really quickly and got into river racing in sprint kayaks. I loved how hectic it was; I loved trying to find flow through rapids. And, actually I loved the competitive side too.”

Robyn Kime (her pre-marriage surname), became a force to reckoned with in kayaking and dominated the field for a number of years. Her name, for a while at least, was synonymous with the Dusi Canoe Marathon; a 75 mile race between Pietermaritzburg and Durban that attracts 2000 paddlers each year. Robyn first won the event as a junior in 2007, then returned as a senior to win for five consecutive years between 2010 and 2014.

Robyn discovered an aptitude for endurance that went far beyond the several hours of racing on the Dusi; many days and nights moving without sleep, working with team mates to navigate courses that included running, mountain biking, canoeing and a plethora of other sports.

She went to university in Stellenbosch to study civil engineering after school. The canoeing wasn’t quite so good on the doorstep, so she began to run more often; it was useful practice for the long sections of portage on the Dusi. Owen juggled canoe training and racing with studying and also began to enter some trail running races. 

Studying over, Robyn took a year out to travel with then boyfriend, Mike Owen. It was during this year that she received an invite to join Team Merrell Adventure Addicts, who were one of the strongest adventure racing teams in the world at the time. That invite marked a transition to several years of adventure racing, competing at the World Adventure Race Championships and multiple expedition-length events. Robyn discovered an aptitude for endurance that went far beyond the several hours of racing on the Dusi; many days and nights moving without sleep, working with team mates to navigate courses that included running, mountain biking, canoeing and a plethora of other sports.

In covering a lifetime of adventures in a single article, it is inevitable that chunks of that life get brushed over with a single sentence. Robyn and I talk about specific adventure races, the challenges of working in a team, the learning curve that she went through. She is consistently humble in her descriptions; there is no mention of results unless I draw them out of her, and she seems to feel more comfortable describing the mistakes, mishaps and weaknesses than her overriding talent and determination. We talk about the Coast-to-Coast adventure race in New Zealand. She came second in her first attempt at the single day event, eventually being overtaken on the final road cycling leg.

“I was really bad at road cycling; it was just so different to mountain biking, and I wasn’t used to the position etc.”

It is only after I ask her that she reveals that she returned the following year to take the win…

After a while, the excessive logistics and planning of adventure racing pushed Owen to the simplicity of trail running racing. Unsurprisingly, she excelled, winning ultramarathons including the Otter; South Africa’s biggest trail event where she set a course record. She travelled to Italy for the Trofeo Kima in 2018 to race her first Sky Runner World Series event. She finished second and had big plans for 2019; intending to race the series. Unfortunately an ankle injury put paid to that, then Covid meant no racing in 2020.

“I surprised myself a little. I actually really enjoyed being a homebird during Covid. I guess there was a gradual transition with the injury before that. But I was really content just having local adventures in the Jonkershoek mountains on my doorstep. I can hit trail straight away and climb through lush, foliage-packed gorges on to rocky ridgelines above. I didn’t really miss racing that much; competition has always ever only been part of my life. I don’t do these sports to compete. Competition is just a method of experiencing running, canoeing whatever; and encourages me to push myself. In all honesty, I’m far more competitive with myself than I am with other people.

After a while, the excessive logistics and planning of adventure racing pushed Owen to the simplicity of trail running racing. Unsurprisingly, she excelled, winning ultramarathons including the Otter; South Africa’s biggest trail event where she set a course record.

“I fell pregnant during this time. It didn’t feel like this huge transition initially; I’d already slowed down a little. It felt incredibly natural. The first few months after the birth of my daughter were really hard, but I loved it in the same way as you do an adventure race. There were these experiences that you know you’ll treasure and remember forever, dotted in between sleep deprivation and all the rest of it! It was immensely humbling sometimes. I’m fortunate enough to have this self-image of myself as a strong, capable woman. Motherhood made me question that over and over again. It is absolutely the hardest thing I’ve ever done, yet an experience that billions of women who have gone before me have already been through. It left me with a deep sense of connection to other mothers; especially those that aren’t in such a fortunate position as I am.” 

Since the birth of her daughter, Owen has returned to running, but with a changed perspective.

“Mike and I get out locally when we can, but I don’t have the same burning desire to hit the trails when I am at home. I genuinely feel really content. It’s funny though, once I’ve got the trail shoes on and set foot outside, I quickly remember what I love about them. I’m no less in love with moving through the mountains. 

Pre-dawn blues and violets begin to warm. Golden light eventually spills over the ridgeline opposite; rays of warmth, beams of pure joy. Life confirming, life fulfilling light. 

“I actually entered the Otter again as an incentive to get out training a few times a week. I lined up at the startline and actually felt pretty strong. I thought maybe I’ll have one of those magic days. It’s like a superpower and your body just knows what to do and gets on with it. In reality I was actually a bit slower. That took a bit of adjusting to, but I wasn’t too disappointed. Racing again didn’t light the touch paper. It just felt like an enriching experience as part of the wider whole. I’m in a different phase of my life; one in which running and definitely competition is a little less important.”

Climbing higher, and the landskein of layer upon layer of ridgelines and peaks gradually reveal themselves; become lighter and less distinct with distance, but no less enticing. Robyn splashes through puddles and scrambles through windows of rock, bridging and pulling, route finding on the fly. Until, eventually, there is no more climbing to be done, and she retraces her steps; gathering speed as the trail mellows. By the time she arrives back home, the garden is bathed in sunshine and Owen lingers once more, enjoying the silence and warmth for a few precious seconds before stepping inside. 

We joke that after parenthood the old maxim about training and racing of ‘it never gets easier, you just get faster’ can be replaced by ‘it never gets easier, you just get slower’. There’s no sense that Owen is offering platitudes or secretly yearning for competition. She is utterly content in her current role and the new adventures that it brings and relishing seeing the world through a child’s eyes.

“We get her outside, but she doesn’t love the hiking backpack. It’s been so interesting watching and listening and adjusting to someone else. I’m so proud of her for showing her mind; I love that there is this mini personality already exerting her will on the world.”

It is only by diving under the labels that we apply to athletes that we begin to truly understand the people we are prone to placing on a pedestal. And in doing so we discover three dimensional people. Ultimately, the very best athletes are humans like you and I. They have fallibilities and dreams; passions and talents; fears and questions. In understanding those, we see a window to ourselves and perhaps leave with an even greater admiration for an individual.

That is certainly the case with Robyn. I leave with an impression of a person who has consistently reinvented herself; but even that statement drifts back to an attempt to label and categorise. Owen’s soul hasn’t changed; she has simply chased adventure and challenges and a life that is stimulated and fulfilled by the outdoors. The means and tools by which she has done this have changed, but Owen herself has simply grown in experience and understanding. 

Whether we see her standing at the top of the podium at an ultra-marathon, adventure race or canoeing competition again remains to be seen. If we do, we can be sure it is because Robyn has rediscovered a burning desire to; but in the meantime, there is more than enough adventure (albeit with fewer medals) to be found in being a damn good mother. In fact, in the intervening months between our conversation and the photoshoot, Robyn discovered that she is pregnant for the second time. The adventure continues…