Did I mention that I ran a half marathon yesterday? That’s 21km, or half the distance from Kampala to Entebbe and WAY more than 6 laps of the school field (as my kids thought today). Just in case you weren’t in the staffroom for the morning briefing where it was announced, haven’t read my facebook update or read my previous blog or heard me twittering on about it, then I would just like to make it known! I’m not normally one to blow my own trumpet, but I am very proud of myself and today is all about rewarding myself for my achievement! I’ve treated my weary feet to a pedicure, indulged in Indian take-away and am about to have a massage in the comfort of my own room to soothe my aching joints.
Things did not appear to be going to plan at the start. We arrived in Jinja to find that some unscrupulous back-packers had decided to upgrade themselves from their nasty dorm room to our cosy safari tent, the restaurant was almost fully booked and one of us was missing the registration pack. As always these things were soon resolved and we eventually sat down to a carbo-fuelled dinner with a few friends.
Alarms were set for the crack of dawn for the big race, not just one, but at five minute intervals, just in case we overslept as it would have been a shame to wake up at noon to say ‘oh shit, we were supposed to run a half marathon this morning!’ . This proved to be unnecessary, as the torrential rain woke us up early instead. We threw on our clothes and I had my Weetabix by the light of the torch on my mobile phone and set off for the run. Worried glances were exchanged as we had to walk through the mud bath that the boda couldn’t get through.
We arrived just in the nick of time (had the race actually started on time) and with plenty of time to spare for the actual starting time. We positioned ourselves a fair distance from the starting line so that anyone wishing to rush through would not be hindered! So after a few announcements and playing the Ugandan National Anthem, we were off.
We had a strategy in mind from the beginning. Just like ‘The Hare and the Tortoise’, slow and steady wins the race. We let people pass us out and managed to be somewhat unaffected by the fact that most of the runners were hurtling off ahead of us. After ten minutes our theory seemed to be working. I would love to know what happened to the lady who had already virtually given up after about 2 km. We asked her if she’d like to jog along with us, but after another 500 m or so she really had burnt out, poor love! We carried on, chatting away to keep our spirits up. By the time we reached the 5km mark, the fastest of the 10km race runners were catching us up and overtaking us, running gazelle-like in elegant formation. (Time to reassess here – slow and steady just gets you through the race but you need fast and furious to stand a chance of winning that 10km race.)We made a gap and allowed them to pass, enjoying the cheers as we went by.
After the 5km mark, the routes split and we separated from the 10 k-ers. The next 10 km was long and tough going. We hardly passed a soul and any onlookers were very bemused, unsure whether to cheer us on or just laugh out loud whole-heartedly – it was mainly the latter. Thank goodness there were two of us. We intermittently commented on multi-coloured birds, the lush green fields, the ever stunning sky and the way the light reflected so prettily off the. It sure beats running through the pollution fest that is Kampala. If only it wasn’t so bloody long and tiring! Sorry, I was meant to be looking for the positive!
By 9.30am we got onto the main road again and neared civilisation again. And I started to need the loo! Trust me – over an hour of empty roads and I feel fine – surround myself with cars and people and I desperately needed a wee. Focus, focus, focus … oh I know what can distract me – the excruciating pain in both knees. By this point I was having conversations with my legs, ‘don’t worry,’ I promised, ‘you won’t have to do anything all week and I’ll treat you to a massage’. But we were so close, and I knew that if I stopped then it would be all over. Overtaking a few flagging runners was definitely a boost and after a long stretch back into town we saw the sign for the final kilometre. We used every remaining bit of energy to make it to the end and my running buddy grabbed my hand as we made it to the finishing line.
An hour later, the three of us (my flatmate also ran the 10km – yay well done!!) were sitting by the Nile basking in our own glory, enjoying a hearty breakfast and a well earned glass of bubbly, then beer, then … well I’d fallen asleep by then! It’s amazing how the brain works and allows you to forget pain, as we were soon left with just a warm glowing feeling – be it from pride or alcohol, who cares? We bloody did it!
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