Saturday, November 28, 2009

Kampala Marathon

The Final Stretch.

Lets start at the beginning.  5 months ago I decided it would be a really good idea to train for a marathon. I have done ½ marathons in the States and really enjoyed both training for them and the race itself, so I thought.... why not step it up and try a full.  One of the main reasons I thought I should train for it was because I didn’t think that there would be another time in my life where I would have so much free time.  I was right about that much at least.  A full marathon is 26.2 miles (42.1 Kilometers) long.  There were obviously a few things that I was ignoring at the time, but I really love to challenge myself so I considered all of those things (the fact that I am in a third world country, under a lot of stress, that I live on the equator).... all of them I chalked up to an added challenge. Idiot.

I began training in July and things went pretty well... up until the wet season began in September.  The rains normally come in the morning, interestingly enough at the same time that I am running.  There were multiple times that I got caught in a storm and had to simply sit it out under a tree and then sadly walk back to my house, because it is impossible to run on muddy roads. 

On my longest training run (3:20) I got caught in a massive storm about 8 miles away from my house.  I decided there was no choice but to continue running, and a good 6 of the 12 miles I still had to go were on tarmac so I felt good about that atleast.  I tried to stay on paved road, so I ended my run about 4 miles from my house.  I knew right as I ended that I was going to be in some major pain, but wasn’t really sure where exactly it was going to hurt.  I ducked into a duka and the lady sitting at the table said, “Bambi”, which is sort of sorry in Luganda.  I told her I needed a large glass of tea with a lot of sugar and I sat in her shop for an hour and a half until the rain stopped.  Luckily I learned early on to carry money in my bra, so I took a private hire back to my house.  When I got home I changed into dry clothes.  As I was taking off my wet clothes I realized that I was chafed beyond imaginable belief.  My armpits were bleeding, my thighs were bleeding, there was a nice burn mark around all of the seams where my sports bra was, the sides of my feet were bleeding.  I couldn’t believe that I was stupid enough to run in the rain for 12 miles.... but I guess I learned my lesson.  I could barely walk for 2 days because the chafing was so bad.  I immediately called my mother and had her send Nike dri-fit stuff for the marathon.  In the end I persevered and finished all of my long runs and began tapering off about 3 weeks ago. 

Which now takes us to the day of the marathon.  I woke up super early, and just like everything one does in Uganda... I walked the two miles to where the race would begin.  I overestimated (along with other people) how long it would take and only got there 5 minutes early.  As I walked up, the gun for the full marathon went off.  So of course, the only thing that ever started early in Uganda is the marathon that I am in.  So I climb up a massive grass hill to the start and just bolted out.  At this time, the elite half-marathoners were getting lined up and within 2 minutes of my race start they were all around me.  A video camera on the back of a motorcycle was getting all of their action and I was trying to look extra strong as these world champion runners breezed past me as though I was walking.  Regardless of my speed, that was something really cool... to be running next to Olympic athletes... on their home turf none the less!

About two miles into it, I see someone running across the road towards me.  I was a bit confused because he was Ugandan, but as he got closer I realized it was my counterpart George!!  He about got hit by 5 matatus, but he managed to give me a hi-five as I passed him.  What a great surprise. Throughout the race Peace Corps friends were there to cheer me on and to give me Gu and Gatorade.  There were multiple times where I thought I would quit, but I saw Chester and Tine cheering up ahead and so I just kept chugging along.  At about mile sixteen things got pretty dreary.  The race went far out and so I didn’t see my friends for a good long while.  Also, Ugandans don’t cheer during races, so I would be running through massive crowds of Ugandans who would just stare.  No shout.  No clap.  No “keep it up”.  It was depressing.  After I hit the round-about, I could see about 18 people in front of me... all men (I only saw 3 other women during my race) and every last one of them was walking.  Let me tell you, one of the hardest things I have ever done is continued to run when 25 year old men are walking the same course.

Around this point, my knees really started giving out.  I mentioned in my last blog that I fell down pretty hard a few weeks ago, but didn’t really go into it too much.  Anyways, I busted both my knees and obviously didn’t give them enough recovery time.  I was in tears by what I assume was mile 20.  Did I mention the fact that there were NO MILE MARKERS on the entire course.  To add insult to injury, at the water stations they had no clue how far out you still were.  Ugandans are terrible at distances in the first place, but I assumed those manning the stations would at least have an educated guess.  Educated is the last word I would categorize their obvious guesses as.  When I still had over 6 miles to go, I stopped at a water station where I was informed it was 5K to the finish (3 miles).  The next water station told me I was about 10K (6 miles), and then the next one told me I was less than a Kilometer (maybe 8 minutes of running) from the finish line.  All were terribly wrong and made the race that much harder because I was mentally preparing myself to finish as well.  With about 4K to go.... I got lost. (Im not going to lie, at this point I was crying.  Hard.  It was everything I could do to stop myself because it was so hard to breath when I was running, and my knees felt like they had been hit with a baseball bat) I wasn’t lost because I have a bad sense of direction, but simply because they were tearing everything down.  The elite runners had finished 2 hours ago and therefore they thought they could pull down the signs and cones.  No one was there to tell me the way, but luckily a Ugandan man was running with me and he could ask people where we were supposed to go.  With less than 1K left I got lost yet again, and decided not to follow the Ugandan (he was going up a hill and that pissed me off).  In the end I just stood in the middle of the road and screamed “Where the hell is Kololo Airstrip?”  Someone pointed in the general left direction and I headed down a hill, where I could hear Chester and Tine screaming.  They had actually heard me screaming before they saw me coming down the hill. Ha.

            They told me that it was just around the corner and they followed me into the finish!!  I sprinted in where all the rest of the Peace Corps people as well as Kohei, my JICA neighbor, were waiting for me.  What a great feeling to have finished a marathon.  Tine later reminded me that my first words after finishing my marathon were, “If I ever decided to do this again... smack me.”  Ha.  I don’t know if I will ever do another marathon, but I do know that I won’t choose one in a third world country that straddles the equator. J 

ps.  The published the results yesterday in the paper.  I came in 156th!!

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Roller Coaster Emotions

In America, I tend to consider myself a fairly stable person.  Yes, I do have my occasional meltdowns, but overall I am usually calm and collected (except for my temper of course).  Anyways, here in Uganda, I am a total mess.  Not even just sort of off kilter, but if this was my real life I would seriously go to a psychiatrist to get tested for multiple personalities or bipolar disorder or something.  It wouldn’t be so bad if I maybe had 4 good days and then a bad day or two... that would at least seem normal and logical.  Since nothing here is logical, it only makes sense (or does it?) that my emotions would fly off the radar at the slightest provocation.  Most days I cry at least once, or get so angry that I grind my teeth till they are sore.  Those exact same days can sometimes be my best, when I will spend hours laughing with children or sitting talking with friends.  (As I talk to other Peace Corps volunteers, it has become very clear that this is the norm here and I am not crazy.  Most people have mood swings that go from one extreme to the other... in a matter of minutes.) It’s all so very crazy that I thought I would allow you to experience it for a few minutes.  So in the next few lines I interspersed things that bring me to tears with others that remind me why I am here (They are accumulated from a few days... this did not all happen in one day!):

 

On my walk home tonight a little 4 year old ran out into the street with a snow suit on.  It was fully zipped up and even the hood was tied super tight around his head. Poor kid was probably melting inside, as was I because I was laughing so hard.  By the way... I live about 20 minutes south of the equator.  It’s really hot.

The last 3 times I have gone to teacher computers the power has gone off right as I started to teach.  No power.... no class.

My garden is growing like crazy!

I was on my run today (training for a marathon kids) and 4 miles out it started to rain.  Now I was real pissed because it was my long run and I had a good 16 to go. But I hid out under a mango tree and waited for the rain to stop.  As I started running again I saw the most gorgeous double rainbow in the sky.  Best part is that I could see both ends of it!

I tried to start a savings association at the local church.  We need 15 people to start... 4 showed up to the meeting today.

My dog learned how to “sit, lay, shake, and speak”.  Ugandans think she is super-human.

They wouldn’t let me start a running club at the college because they don’t want the students going off the campus.  Crushed....

The JICA volunteer who is next to me was given a boda (motorcycle) by his organization.  I am not even allowed to ride on the back of one.  Sick.

All but 7 of the inmates at the prison signed up for my English class!!

Baby Dan got his first tooth... and the next three as well!

My dog killed two of my neighbors chickens. In theory all I would have to do is buy my neighbor new chickens, but the students told me that in the Buganda region when something gets destroyed it is not okay simply to buy a new one... that doesn’t do the item justice apparently.  Especially not a chicken.  The kids said, “Maybe you should just kill your dog and get a new better one.”  Tears ensued.

            I got to hold a newborn baby... hadn’t even been to the hospital yet.

            An old man I met on one of my runs brought me home made juice tonight.  Then he proceeded to tell me that the seeds in the bottom were to kill all of the worms.  He stood there and watched me drink it.  It was delicious... and probably deadly.

            The people in my savings group informed me that NONE of them have a bank account.

            I got an amazing package from my momma.

            I crashed and burned on my run this morning.  Bloody hands, bloody knees, bloody elbows.

            I got my hair braided at the deaf salon in town and all my students think I look “smart”.

            We finally printed the school newsletter!

            So there is a little bit of the up and the down of my daily life.  I am sort of getting used to it and actually don’t know what I will do when I come home and things are so predictably normal.