#runninginrwanda

I remember exactly what I was wearing…yellow flip flops and jeans. It was a lovely day in early April, first time to have my feet open to the elements since the previous summer…and my toenails were a mess from being stuck in running shoes all winter.

I was sitting with Doug in the Fontbonne computer lab…I’m not sure why we were there, but I was searching the internet for races in Rwanda. I immediately found the one and only marathon in the country. I looked through photos and at course maps. Even though I was afraid it would be hot and miserable, I was instantly excited about the opportunity to take part in this event. I wasn’t sure what the future held for me then, but I was certain that I wanted to try.

So, after a year in the country we began our five months of training. Doug and I were very excited to get to participate in the Kigali International Peace Marathon, running the half. It had been two years since my last race, and I forgot the magical feeling that participating in an event like this gives you.

And what’s more? Getting to race with people from all over the world. There were Africans from all over the continent, Asians, Europeans, and Americans. The most impressive, of course, were the Kenyans. At only a sideways glance you could pick them out of a crowd. Muscular and thin with long, skinny legs (bare in tiny shorts—so, obviously not Rwandan), and the energy releasing around them just screamed, I was made for this. I was born a runner. It was awe-inspiring.

When we began the race, we went under the large MTN blow up banner. It felt surprisingly like every race I’ve run in America. We crossed over somewhat slowly because the Rwandans were under the impression that every person had to physically step on the time sensor, rather than just having your bib pass over it. We heard some panicked, “Did you step on it?” coming from those around us…which gave us a little chuckle.

The weather was fairly good. It was sunny, not a cloud in the sky, but somehow it didn’t get excruciatingly hot. There were three water stations and one station with sponges soaked in cold water, which felt really amazing. We ran up steep hills, we toggled back and forth with a couple of American girls—them getting ahead on the uphills, us racing past them on the downhills. We had some cheers from the sidelines, which was nice. We got to run past the Peace Corps office, and our guards spotted us and cheered wildly. Our country director was on the path as well to support us. Our good friend Jonathan and Petra both attended the event and another friend Rebecca ran with a student of hers, which was awesome. I loved having so much support.

I had a great pace throughout the entire run. I was proud of myself for kicking the hills, and letting the adrenaline continue to push me forward. The route was a loop from the large event stadium, so when we reached back to the stadium, I thought we were almost done. Unfortunately, I was very wrong. We had to run around the block–so far we actually stopped being able to see the stadium anymore. (Doug told me, “Just around that corner” four times.) Eventually we made it to the gates only to find we had to then run around the outside of stadium again. But wait… upon entering the stadium, we then had to run around the track to the finish. It seemed never ending!

I was pretty bummed that I used a lot of my finishing energy about 3 miles too soon. We ended up not getting a P.R., but tying with our P.R. from St. Louis. However, I’m not upset by it at all because this course was, hands down, more difficult than any other half I’ve run or probably ever will run. So…I’m calling it a win!

I remember exactly what I was wearing...yellow flip flops and jeans. It was a lovely day in early April, first time to have my feet open to the elements since the previous summer...and my toenails were a mess from being stuck in running shoes all winter.

I was sitting with Doug in the Fontbonne computer lab...I'm not sure why we were there, but I was searching the internet for races in Rwanda. I immediately found the one and only marathon in the country. I looked through photos and at course maps. Even though I was afraid it would be hot and miserable, I was instantly excited about the opportunity to take part in this event. I wasn't sure what the future held for me then, but I was certain that I wanted to try.

So, after a year in the country we began our five months of training. Doug and I were very excited to get to participate in the Kigali International Peace Marathon, running the half. It had been two years since my last race, and I forgot the magical feeling that participating in an event like this gives you.

And what's more? Getting to race with people from all over the world. There were Africans from all over the continent, Asians, Europeans, and Americans. The most impressive, of course, were the Kenyans. At only a sideways glance you could pick them out of a crowd. Muscular and thin with long, skinny legs (bare in tiny shorts—so, obviously not Rwandan), and the energy releasing around them just screamed, I was made for this. I was born a runner. It was awe-inspiring.

When we began the race, we went under the large MTN blow up banner. It felt surprisingly like every race I've run in America. We crossed over somewhat slowly because the Rwandans were under the impression that every person had to physically step on the time sensor, rather than just having your bib pass over it. We heard some panicked, “Did you step on it?” coming from those around us...which gave us a little chuckle.

The weather was fairly good. It was sunny, not a cloud in the sky, but somehow it didn't get excruciatingly hot. There were three water stations and one station with sponges soaked in cold water, which felt really amazing. We ran up steep hills, we toggled back and forth with a couple of American girls—them getting ahead on the uphills, us racing past them on the downhills. We had some cheers from the sidelines, which was nice. We got to run past the Peace Corps office, and our guards spotted us and cheered wildly. Our country director was on the path as well to support us. Our good friend Jonathan and Petra both attended the event and another friend Rebecca ran with a student of hers, which was awesome. I loved having so much support.

I had a great pace throughout the entire run. I was proud of myself for kicking the hills, and letting the adrenaline continue to push me forward. The route was a loop from the large event stadium, so when we reached back to the stadium, I thought we were almost done. Unfortunately, I was very wrong. We had to run around the block--so far we actually stopped being able to see the stadium anymore. (Doug told me, “Just around that corner” four times.) Eventually we made it to the gates only to find we had to then run around the outside of stadium again. But wait... upon entering the stadium, we then had to run around the track to the finish. It seemed never ending!

I was pretty bummed that I used a lot of my finishing energy about 3 miles too soon. We ended up not getting a P.R., but tying with our P.R. from St. Louis. However, I'm not upset by it at all because this course was, hands down, more difficult than any other half I've run or probably ever will run. So...I'm calling it a win!