Fordyce Stays to Run, but It’s By His Choice

Bruce Fordyce has led a life of privilege--the best schools, the finest things. His home in Johannesburg’s posh northern suburbs reflects this. It is cool and tasteful, rich and subtle.

Fordyce may be South Africa’s most successful athlete. In a nation in which professional athletes are almost non-existent, Fordyce, as an amateur, has grown rich and famous. He is perhaps the world’s most accomplished ultra-distance runner--a sport that is wildly popular here, but less so elsewhere in the world.

Fordyce, 34, has won the Comrades race--South Africa’s most prestigious ultra-marathon and one of the nation’s most revered sporting events--seven times. He dominates races from the marathon up. Educated and well spoken, Fordyce has capitalized on his popularity by fashioning a career in motivational speaking. He is one of the the country’s best known athletes.

Fordyce could live anywhere in the world, but he chooses to live here. Unlike other South African athletes who are banned by international rules, Fordyce has had the freedom to travel freely to compete, since his sport is not governed by Olympic rules and there are no restrictions on South African ultra-marathoners.

Fordyce was born in Hong Kong, holds a British passport and has traveled extensively. He said the stigma of being a South African athlete has largely bypassed him, although he has encountered a few protests.

“I don’t have such a heavily, chronic South African accent, so I don’t get some of it,” he said. “I think a lot of people think I’m English and leave it at that. The passport helps a lot. If people kick up a fuss, the race director can say, ‘He’s not a South African.’ ”

Fordyce has been in the unique position of having the freedom his compatriots have lacked. Yet, to the puzzlement of many, Fordyce has chosen not to leave.

“In past years I haven’t been trapped, but now the doors are really closed,” he said. “For my specialty, for my distances, we in this country are the best.

“I wouldn’t gain by going over there. Ultra-distance running in the States and in Europe is still a kind of lunatic fringe thing.”

Fordyce’s popularity has waned only once, when he ran and won the Comrades wearing a black armband to protest the politicization of the event.

“Running is a luxury pursuit,” he said. “You can’t go out training when you have to wake up at 4 in the morning to catch the train from Soweto to get to work.

“Politics--I have to say what I say, when I’m asked. On the one hand I say these liberal things; on the other hand, I’ve run overseas. I’m sure I’m good ammunition for the government in many ways: ‘Look, here’s our boy, he races overseas. So much for isolation.’

“But I’m selfish. I’ve got to get on with my career. My career is running. It’s all very well to say ‘wait’, but I’ll be past my best days.”

It’s the same argument many elite athletes here use: We can’t wait for the political change to come to help us to get back into international sport. We want to compete now.

“This cry that sports and politics shouldn’t be mixed is insane,” he said “They are actually incredibly linked all around the world. We were the guys who started it all. People forget that.

“People here think that we have made the changes and that we haven’t been rewarded. We have made the changes because we’ve had the pressure put on us to make the changes. The sanctions have been absolutely the only reason. Absolutely.”

For all their apparent benefit, Fordyce believes the sanctions have almost run their course. Almost.

“I have this kind of optimistic feeling that things are going to move kind of quickly in sport,” he said. “My own feeling is that we should not be back in yet. I’m always in this dilemma. I’d love our guys to run. But I think it’s just not time yet to stop the boycotts.”

Fordyce paused and gazed out his window.

“I’m sure people are going to look back in 20 years’ time and actually laugh hysterically about it all,” he said. “Except that it is so sad.”