Running in Rwanda

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.

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.

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 1^st (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.