Jonathan Barber - Still At It

Old professional athletes, there are not that many. In triathlon terms, there are only a handful of names that crop up, the recently retired Cameron Brown being the most notable. But what about former elite triathletes trying to re-enter the professional after a lengthy hiatus? Are there any examples?

'Since I began working towards my goal, Bob McRae earned his pro license aged 52 and competed in one pro race the following year,' says Jonathan Barber. 'Bob was unable to amass enough points to get his pro card renewed. Besides Melanie McQuaid who raced at Kona in 2023 aged 50, Bob is the oldest athlete to qualify as a professional that I know of'.

Ten years ago, Jonathan Barber was working towards a pretty lofty goal – earn back his USAT professional triathlon license. A past provincial champion and elite competitor from South Africa, Jonathan had continued to race abroad in the elite category after moving to the United States in the mid-1990s. Amassing some 74 wins over his career (44 in the US), he moved on to a real job in 2005, and hence a decade long sabbatical from top level sport.

Had Jonathan been successful in his quest to regain his USAT Elite License, he would have been the oldest pro triathlete by far. No easy task by any means, given the strict criteria employed by the national governing body. But it all went quiet, until recently when Jonathan checked in stating that he was now once again attempting the seemingly impossible, this time at the age of 57!

Last time we spoke you were working towards an attempt to earn your pro license back again. Give us an update – were you successful?

In short – no. I had actually been working toward the goal for two years before sharing my plans with you – so it has been 11 years since I started this process. But I have not succeeded – yet.

Greg von Holdt's Athletic Range

If one does a Google search for the 1992 Milk Race, a few cryptic entries pop up. A 12 day stage race across the United Kingdom open to both professional and amateur riders predominates, as does the fact that the race was won by unheralded Irishman Conor Henry. The race included national teams from a host of countries, as well as a sprinkling of British and European professional teams, all bidding for good results in the fortnight's romp around "Mud Island".

Also on the startlist was the South African National Team, the first official cycling team from that country to compete overseas after the lifting of sporting sanctions and, like the other national teams present, made up of riders looking for Olympic selection to the Barcelona Games later that same year. Needless to say it was quite an eye opener for the South Africans, and a brutal one at that, as SA team member Greg von Holdt remembers.

Johan van der Berg: Neo-pro 2000

On Sunday 24 April 1999, Johan van der Berg left his Belgian home on his daily training ride. In his first year competing as an elite amateur cyclist in Europe, Johan was following a path so many South African riders had done prior – make the pilgrimage to the Continent in order to try and get noticed by a top flight team in hope of a professional contract. Not many, if any, had really succeeded up to that point, most getting their heads kicked in before heading home. Except for two: Robert Hunter and David George (three if you include Zimbabwean Tim Jones who was racing in Italy for Amore & Vita) had excelled enough in the greater European amateur scene to catch the eye of Lampre and US Postal Service respectively. Knowing that neo-pro Hunter was on the startlist for that year's Amstel Gold Race made Johan's training ride that day slightly different – he rode into the Netherlands, destination Maastricht, to not only catch some of the racing action, but also to hopefully connect with a young Hunter and catch up on some news.

Albe Geldenhuys' Sporting Skill Set

By all accounts, Albe Geldenhuys' maiden Comrades Marathon performance was the perfect debut. Having studied the split times of the top contenders prior to the 1996 edition, Albe reckoned that a sub-5hr55 performance would virtually guarantee a top ten finish. Be it the “up” or “down” versions of the famous slog in KwaZulu-Natal, five minutes under six hours would underline the Pretoria athlete's arrival as an elite ultra-marathon contender and earn him a coveted gold medal. And he did just that. Well, almost.

'My first Comrades went really well,' he says. 'My preparation was spot on, as did the race. I had won the Long Tom Marathon earlier that year and was confident of my chances. In the end, I finished in a great 5:54. But 1996 was the first year that the Russian athletes took the race by storm and so I only finished 21st.

By then over 30 years of age, Albe was entering his prime as an ultra endurance athlete. He would eventually earn not one but two gold medals at The Ultimate Human Race, along with a multitude of top-15 places. His journey to Comrades glory, though, was not exactly conventional. But then Albe Geldenhuys is not your typical athlete.

Chubasco Juries' Compound Effect

Small Steps. Big Strides.

On a chilly June Sunday, some twenty four hours after a personal best cross country performance, Chubasco Juries went for his usual long run. Covering around 17km in a shade under 90min, such a regimen would be considered pretty much standard fare amongst his peers. No big deal. And then like many athletes, he noted down the session in his training diary, just like he does for each and every run. But this is where the similarity to others stops. You see, Chubasco is not your usual athlete. Yes, he trains consistently and yes, he is meticulous. Yet most of his training is done barefoot. And almost exclusively up and down his yard at home.

There have been many examples of athletes training in confinement. The pandemic and associated garden jogging notwithstanding, there are those who have sought to complete their training sessions in spite of their respective locations. From UN pilots on mercy missions in Afghanistan jogging around their mess hall to one former Ironman champion completing his scheduled two hour run at midnight around a hotel tennis court, lack of suitable training locations hasn't been a problem for the super-motivated. But the majority of these cases were out of necessity rather than choice; needless to say life returned to normal once back in their usual environs. But what if "training in confinement" was in fact beneficial? And actually improved athletic performance? Crazy, right? Well not so, according to Chubasco Juries.

Scott Mercier's South African Connection

Rapport Toer 1996

Type in the name Scott Mercier to an internet search engine and the terms 'professional cyclist' and 'author' are bound to predominate. Yes, the American was indeed a professional rider, and an exceptional one at that. A late starter in the sport, Scott represented the US at the Barcelona Olympics in 1992 after only 18 months in the sport, turning professional soon after. And yes, he is a scribe, his autobiography Win True having been released this past February. While the book details Scott's racing career, it is interwoven with life lessons using the peloton as a lens.

These days, Scott calls Colorado home. Married with two children, he works in finance and rides his bike for leisure. Rewind almost three decades, though, and some of his greatest memories as a racing cyclist took place on the roads of South Africa in a two-wheeled battle royale.

Eddie King

A Springbok in Belgium 

The 1970s weren't exactly great days for South Africa. 1976 was an especially tumultuous year for the Republic, which was making international headlines for all the wrong reasons. The sports boycott was also in full force and the country was coming up for its fourth exclusion from the Olympic Games. Apart from the likes of distance runner Marcello Fiasconaro competing for foreign nations (Italy in Marcello's case), no South African sportsmen or women could officially compete in the international arena. Unofficially, though, it was a different story.

The header photo of the Springbok cycling team circa 1976 is a veritable "who's who" of South African cycling folklore. Allan Dipple, Eddie King, manager Gotty Hansen and Robbie McIntosh are sandwiched in between Alan Van Heerden and Ertjies Bezuidenhout. Unbeknown to most, the "Green and Gold" was being represented with distinction on two wheels in the Low Countries that year. Which begs the question: what (and how) the heck was a South African sporting team competing internationally at the height of the country's pariah status?