The best time of day is
between 6 and 7 am. The sun has just risen, peeking over a ridge top and bathing
the hills with brilliant golden light. The mist, still languidly lingering in
the valleys from the cool night, begins to swirl and vaporize as the sun heats
air. The pleasant songs of birds and the raspy call of roosters announce the
new day. Coming alive with the rest of the world, cows meander out of their tin
covered shelters; white herons and magnificent kites leave their acacia tree
residences to soar upon the golden shafts of light; and dew glistens on laden
stems of grass like a million scattered diamonds.
It’s a transformation, a renewal. It’s the start
of a new day. And it’s the best time for a run.
I started running 3 years ago when I joined a
cross-country team back in the states. Now in Rwanda, running is a habit I
still keep up, even though I no longer have a team. Although it’s often hard to
drag myself out of bed, I’m always rewarded by the pristine beauty of
the morning. If I’m lazy or sleep in, the magic of the morning quickly
disappears and I have only the heat of the equatorial sun and my sweat to
thank.
This spring I’ve had the motivation of the
Kigali Peace Half Marathon to keep me running. Since March, I’ve been shaping
my runs into a training schedule to prepare myself for racing the 13 miles. I
run in the country side, often with one of our dogs. Every run is exciting:
there are always mud puddles to dodge or herds of cows to weave through. Because
people walk, the land is crisscrossed with hundreds
of dirt paths. For me, this translates into many running options and
routes. In this “land of a thousand hills,” I am almost always
climbing or descending a hill. Climbing hills at 5,000 feet above sea level are great training conditions.
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| Confusion near the finish!?! |
The race day came fast, because I enjoyed
much of my training. In the last couple of weeks before the race, I ran with a
Rwandan friend who was also training for the half marathon. One early morning
we ran through Kigali on part of the marathon course. I was surprised by how
many other people were also running. With the streets empty, we ran past dozens of runners also taking advantage of the cool Sunday morning. Rwanda is not known for its runners like its African neighbors
of Kenya, Uganda, and Ethiopia. Indeed, this Kigali Marathon is the only race I
know in Rwanda. None the less, Rwandans like to run, and this
international marathon race seems to be a very popular event, for the runners
we saw ranged from elementary kids with their dads, to young men sprinting down
the street.
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| Brian and I trained together for the half marathon |
On race day, last Sunday, hundreds of people
showed up. Most were local Rwandans from Kigali. But there were also many Kenyans
and Ugandans, probably aiming at the thousand dollar prize for 1st (and
who could contest with them?). Then there was the smattering of expats—or
“muzungus”—from all sorts of different nations and organization.
The course of the half marathon was different
from last year’s. Instead of repeating a lap through Kigali twice (or four
times for the full marathon), it was extended so we only had to run out and
back for the half (or twice for the full). They also changed the start times so
that the half marathon began first. This seemed great—less monotony
on the course and running earlier in the cool morning. However, on the actual
race, the changes turned out to be a disaster. The first part of the race was fine, well
organized and with plenty water stations that had not yet run out of water. But coming
near the end, at about 10 mi, the half marathon runners merged with hoard of
lagging and walking 5k runners. At the intersection of one street, the police
were directing traffic so that I had to stop and wait for a car to pass. Nor
were there signs at the intersections, and the police and bystanders did not
seem to know the direction of the course. In all the confusion the race ended
up being only about 11 miles. Apparently, we were supposed to run another short
section before finishing. However, with no signs or map, and a confusing mingle of
bystanders, traffic, and already finished racers, the incoming runners had to
figure out the best way--or their own way--to get to the finish line.
But in the end, despite the confusion, the race
was worth it. Though shorter than anticipated, I ran it well, at 1:13, or an
average of about 6.45 min/mile. And if I had finished all 13 miles, I would
have done it close to my goal of 90min. But more importantly, this race
motivated me to run and helped me establish some relationships with other runners that I hope to continue in the future.
