DGKW

Don’t give up. Three words that became a philosophy, a finish line, and a life.

Bruges. The cobblestones of Flanders. The Para Tour of Flanders, one of cycling’s most legendary one-day classics, raced on the same roads that have broken the best professional cyclists in the world for over a century. Reyaan Traut was there. On those cobbles. Racing them.

“Starting in Brugge and riding those cobbles was the most scary and beautiful experience I’ve ever had.”

Moments like that are not given. They are built. One early morning, one training session, one sacrifice at a time, by someone who decided a long time ago that nothing would stand in his way. He is from Elfindale, Cape Town. At 3:30 in the morning, most of his neighbourhood is still asleep. Reyaan is already on the bike. DGKW.

THE STORY BEHIND THE START LINE

He had never been particularly interested in cycling. He thought it would not challenge him enough. He was also, and he will tell you this himself without embarrassment, not comfortable with the Lycra. Before the accident, his body had been something he had worked deliberately to build. He spent hours in the gym every day, sculpting himself into the person he wanted to see in the mirror. His physical appearance was always a big part of what he was most proud of. In 2011, a motorcycle accident took his left arm. And with it, a version of himself he had been deeply proud of. The physical loss was significant. But what he describes is something more intimate than that: the sudden disappearance of an identity he had spent years constructing. When you can no longer do the things that have defined you, you have to figure out who you are without them. What helped him most in those days, he says, were two things. Good friends. And faith.

“Having good friends and believing that God’s plans are better than mine helped me the most.”

He was always going to find his way back to something. That is simply who he is. A couple of years after the accident, a friend suggested a bicycle ride. His competitive nature took over. Something happened out on the road that he had not expected.

WHAT WINNING ACTUALLY MEANS

He is a three-time African Champion. He has won gold medals in South African and Western Cape track, time trial, and road championships across more than a decade of competition. In 2019 he became the first paracyclist to finish the Cape Town Cycle Tour in under three hours. The Western Cape Government named him 2019 Sports Newcomer of the Year. He has raced in Belgium, Egypt, Brazil, and beyond.

But ask him what winning means, and he will not talk about any of that.

“Most of what I do is to show those who think they can’t that they can, and those who think they can that they can do better.”

Winning, for Reyaan, is not about opponents. There will always, he says, be too much room for disappointment if you measure yourself against others. He focuses on small improvements and puts in the work daily. But that work is never his alone.

“My family makes sacrifices as well, and that’s not easy. My team at Carbon Gear provides the support that allows me to keep chasing my goals. So when I win, we all win. I just finish off the job.”

He shared a thought on winning once that stops you in your tracks:

“The sweetest victories are the ones your family gets to witness because they saw the quiet struggle long before the world did. A win can be personal. It’s doing the thing you didn’t think you could do. It’s getting out of bed on the day your heart was heavy. It’s keeping your cool when you used to lose it. It’s showing up again and again when no one’s clapping and the only scoreboard is your own growth.”

DGKW

Don’t give krag weg. Don’t give up. But it is more than a reminder not to quit. For Reyaan, DGKW is almost a response mechanism. When an obstacle appears, he does not try to go around it or wait for it to pass. He welcomes it. He is forced to find a way through. He welcomes challenges not in spite of what they cost him, but because of what they reveal.

“Whenever I hit an obstacle, I am forced to find ways to overcome it because I welcome challenges.”

This philosophy extends into how he uses disadvantage. When things get hard in a local race, he tells himself: this is not nearly as hard as racing overseas. He uses every constraint as fuel. The bigger the disadvantage, the better the story. He means it. He has lived it.

THE MAN WHO WENT TO RIO ALONE

In September 2025, Reyaan Traut flew to Rio de Janeiro for the Para Track World Championships. He went alone. No coach. No dedicated support crew. No mechanical skills to speak of. He was, as far as anyone could tell, the only athlete at the event who had arrived completely solo and unassisted. Going alone to a track event representing your country with zero mechanical skills is not something he would advise. But what happened next was something he could not have planned.

Every country there was more than willing to help him. Athletes and staff from competing nations stepped in wherever they could. What had started as a solo mission became a shared experience of connection and community.

“Because I was on my own, I learned to lean on others. And in doing so, I found family in every corner of the world.”

He reflected on it with characteristic honesty. A normal, sane person, he said, would not jump at an opportunity like this. He has made peace with not being entirely conventional. It is precisely that willingness to do things that do not always make sense that has opened doors he would never otherwise have found. The cycling community, he says, is extraordinary. Not just in South Africa but around the globe. It supports itself in a way that few other sporting worlds do.

“What started as a solo mission became something so much bigger. A reminder that sport has no borders, only unity.”

THE WORLD THROUGH TWO WHEELS

He has ridden the cobbles at Flanders. He has competed in Egypt. He has heard fans shout “go SA” at races where no one knew his name, simply because they saw someone from his country and wanted to celebrate it. He rode through Portugal and loved every pedal stroke. He watched a billboard in Belgium featuring Remco Evenepoel and it blew his mind. A cycling champion on a billboard. A country that treats its athletes across every discipline as a source of national pride. And then there was the Grand Colombier.

The Tour de France. Bastille Day. Crowds lining the road. The Yellow Caravan approaching. And Reyaan ahead of it, riding through noise and colour and something that had no right to be happening.

“Riding through Flanders in Belgium gives me goosebumps every time I watch a race in Belgium. I’ve had the privilege of riding ahead of the Yellow Caravan in the Tour de France up the Grand Colombier on Bastille Day, through crowds cheering me on as if I was in the break!”

He shakes his head. It makes zero sense. He would not have it any other way.

HYROX AND WHAT IT REVEALED

Cycling is not the only arena where Reyaan has surprised himself. Last year he entered HYROX, the global fitness competition that combines endurance and functional strength. He went in with only three dedicated training sessions behind him. He missed the World Championship qualifying time by two minutes. The marketing manager at Puma South Africa reached out immediately, willing to offer support. It ultimately did not come together, and he was grateful that someone had even considered it. But the HYROX experience confirmed something he already knew: his capacity goes beyond any single discipline. He is not just a cyclist. He is an athlete. And DGKW, it turns out, applies on any course.

THE PEOPLE WHO MADE IT POSSIBLE

Getting to Rio did not happen alone. The executive committee at Carbon Gear reached into their own pockets to make it possible. People shared his story on social media. Local heroes like Dave Jenkins did everything they could. None of it was guaranteed. All of it came from love. He is deeply grateful for every person who has backed him. And he carries them with him to every start line.

“I’m lucky to get the support to be able to pursue my goals. There are so many talented people in South Africa who don’t, and as a country we need to fix that.”

CAPE TOWN

Ask him where to take a visiting cyclist and his answer is immediate. By far the easiest question, he says.

“Cape Town gets more beautiful the more I travel. An easy 2-3 hour ride from my home will take you around some of the most beautiful spots in the world.”

From his home in Elfindale, a ride along the Atlantic Seaboard takes you through Camps Bay, beneath the cliff faces of the Twelve Apostles, past Llandudno, through Hout Bay and then up Chapman’s Peak Drive: nine kilometres of road carved into the cliff face, 114 curves, the Atlantic spread below in every shade of blue and green. Then Ou Kaapse Weg across the Peninsula, and back. And you will, he promises, still be spoilt for choice with a really good flat white.

This is where he built his engine. These are the roads where he trained before anyone outside Cape Town knew his name. They are still the roads he comes back to, no matter where the world has taken him.

HIS WIFE, AND WHAT SHE CARRIES

His wife has been with him through every part of this journey: the 3:30am alarms, the trips abroad alone, the funding uncertainty, the years of work before the wider world was paying attention.

“My wife is the real champ as she fights the war at home while I’m gone. All these sacrifices are what I always refer back to.”

Every medal he has won, every start line he has reached, every early morning session done before the city woke up: none of it happens without her. He knows this. He says it without being asked.

WHAT COMES NEXT

He is a three-time African Champion. He has competed at the highest international level, alone and underfunded, and found family in every corner of the world. He is aiming for the Summer Games in 2028. The road ahead is more complicated than it has been. He no longer has a coach and is working through that the way he works through everything: one pedal stroke at a time. The World Championships in Apeldoorn, Netherlands, are on the horizon, funding permitting.

“As long as I truly want it, nothing will stand in my way.”

Years from now, when people look back on his story, he does not want them to remember the medals first. He teaches his children that kindness, respect, and honesty matter more than any result. He is quick to say he has more bad traits than good, but hopes people remember him for the good he upholds without compromise. There is one quote he keeps close, a reminder to remain humble:

“No one who has even a mustard seed’s weight of arrogance in his heart will enter Paradise.”

And perhaps that is the other side of everything DGKW represents. The determination to keep going, without ever believing that achievement makes you greater than anyone else. DGKW. Don’t give krag weg.