Afro Adventures: Lewa Safaricom Marathon

***Warning: some crass language***

Getting to the Lewa Wildlife Conservancy was a disaster. I was told that, through a series of matatus, I should get there in four or five hours TOPS. I left Lake Naivasha at ten a.m. and took a 60-shilling ride into Naivasha town where I was to switch to go to Nyahururu—they were charging 400ksh but when I went to the grocery store and asked around, they said it should be 200. I argued with the man trying to shove me in his matatu until I got the price down to 300 but he was super angry and giving me the stare down. Too bad, son. However, this just screwed me because the matatu took FOREVER to get going and then they made we switch vans. Whack. It was significantly farther to Nyahururu than I though; once we got there the driver was nice enough to show me where to get another to Nanyuki; thank God for him, I was harassed more here than in India. One guy wouldn’t give me my bag and said he’d carry it for me. Finally, I said he could do it if he wanted but I wasn’t going to pay him. He gave it back right away. On the way, the other drivers literally were grabbing my bags and surrounding me, trying to pull me towards their vehicle until I started screaming at them to get away. Finally, I got in the van but I wasn’t out of the woods. It sat in the lot for over an hour waiting for it to fill up with passengers, meanwhile everyone was trying to sell their goodies to the mazungu or just stood staring at me with their noses plastered up against the windows. One guy came up to me and said, “oh, it’s hot…” Then held up his cart of shriveled meat, “sausage?” NO! I don’t want your damn greasy meat stick, that’s the last thing I want to put in my mouth right now! After two hours of driving we should’ve been there, but we were actually in Nyeri, where the driver made me get out and onto another van because he wasn’t actually going to Nanyuki---UGH, why the hell did you force me on here with such a vengeance then? Another hour, I transfer to Isiolo, which took two hours and from THERE I needed a ten to twenty minute cab ride to the Lewa gate.

It was dark at this point and I wasn’t sure if he was a registered cab so I asked for his papers (Which I have no idea what they’re supposed to look like). He called my bluff and showed me something. I bargained down from 1000 to 600 ksh. We stopped at the gas station and asked for the money so he could fill up his tank. I gave him a 1000ksh bill and he tried to keep it all. I said he owed me 400 but he tried to keep driving. NO STOP! I made him make sure he had change or else he had to get out and get change at the station. He finally gave me my money but proceeded, the entire ride, to say that the trip was much further than 12km like I had said and that he should get more money. This conversation is occurring as he’s going 120km/hr down a dark, bumpy dirty road. “Please, sir, just bring me to the gate, we already discussed the pay.” There was no seatbelt, so I was bracing myself against his seat incase of a crash. The road became a big construction zone and he goes, “Ya know, it’s very dangerous out here in a cab in the dark.” I chose to ignore that statement and started to text Adele (the woman I had been in contact with the entire trip who is on staff for the race) who was having George, one of the park’s drivers, waiting for me at the gate. The cabbie couldn’t figure out where the entrance was and stopped a guy wondering down the dark road to ask; he let him IN the car—omgomgomgomgomg. George called when I texted that my cabbie was crazy and lost but my driver refused to take the phone for directions. Finally, he found the gate and I jumped out and grabbed my things as he insisted, again, I’d give him more money. NO! I ran through the gate and into George’s car who then brought me to the staff house; Adele had been worried about my safety and didn’t want me trying to pitch a tent in the dark.

I walked through a beautiful entryway to a long, candle lit table outside looking out towards the park. She immediately had me sit down and grabbed me a plate of food and a glass of wine that was SO desperately needed. I sat talking to about fifteen people who wre in charge, in one-way or another, of the race, mostly from the UK but also the USA and Australia. Adele had originally told me I could pitch my tent on the staff grounds, but then surprised me with my own room—a king-sized bed that smelled of Downy freshness (!!!!) and a bathroom with HOT pressurized showers. Yesssss. Things always work out, don’t they? I slept soundly until around seven a.m. then met everyone for breakfast—eggs my way, toast, wheatabix, porridge, bacon, beans, fruit juice, yogurt…perfection. An older woman from the States and her Aussie husband chatted with me for a while after we ate. her husband, Roger, was saying that it’s nice, yet bizarre, to just sit back and watch a race happen without doing announcing or timing and Katherine had said something about interviewing racers when I asked how they got into that. Turns out, Roger holds a world record for something (I was never exactly explained what) and Katherine was a previous NYC marathon winner as well as a pioneer for female long distance running throughout Europe. I’d been sitting chit-chatting with a bunch of world record holders, people that are ACTUALLY a big deal and I had no idea!

They all had to roll out to different meetings and such, so I sat around reading when I met Joan and Doreen, two super adorable older women who come to help with timing every year. Doreen has been in Kenya since 1961 (Originally from South Africa) and is a primary school teacher while Joan has been residing in Kenya since 1954 and describes herself as a “lay-about,” HAH! They both live with their husbands in Nairobi; we sat chatting about their lives and travels while watching wild animals roam about near the swamp not far from our seats. I was told to not leave the area around the house because predatory animals do live and wonder nearby and I could easily be hurt (i.e. consumed). I chatted with those two until George picked me up at one to bring me to registration and to set up my tent. Good thing I didn’t have to go the night before because no one was on the campgrounds yet--my sad little tent sat all alone. After, I went and wondered around the Banda for a while; it’s just a small hut/building where one can purchase souvenirs. I hung out on a picnic table ready my Obama book next to a cute guy ( ☺ ) when the rest of his running group came up. We all started chatting about traveling when one of the guys, an Italian around my age, stops me, “ wait, are you running a marathon on every continent? I saw your Facebook event and wrote on the wall. I knew I recognized your face.” omg. Needless to say, I was shocked that a random guy knew who I was, though it felt pretty amazing. The group (all in their mid 20’s-40’s) consisted of a bunch of men who work for Deutsch Bank in London and came over just to run the race. They were stayed at a nice camp with beds and catering and headed to their driver to go back. I went back to my book when the cute guy came back and invited me to come with—free food? um, yes@ I hung out with them for lunch then they dropped me off at the registration tent in order for me to go on a short game safari. I sat around for almost an hour until the driver finally showed and we were off through the park seeing elephants, zebras, warthogs, giraffes, impalas and a rhino! There were three others, a couple from German (I think) and a young guy from Canada, Omid, who was super cool. He was working Uganda and was sponsored by his company to do this race (he previously ran a race raising money for arthritis). We got along really well and hung out later that evening for the pasta party.

First,, there was a race briefing and after I saw food being dolled out so I grabbed a plate and helped myself. As I walked away and looked around, I realized that no one else was lining up. I accidentally took a plate of food from the Marines!!!! ahhh. Omid found me at that point and just laughed as I hid and hovered it down. Abut a half hour later, we went to the real pasta party and carbo-loaded then headed to bed.

I was so afraid I’d sleep through the start that I woke up basically every hour. At 4:30a.m. I finally got up and started to get ready. My tent is technically for two people, but I have no idea how that’s possible unless one lies on top of the other. I fit with my bag just barely. If my head is up against one side, I just fit lying flat, so usually I’d either be in a ball or lying diagonally. Anyway, attempting to change in this small space was difficult. Also, my headlamp’s batteries died so I was working via a small Swiss army knife light. After wrangling my body into my spandex it was time for a delicious breakfast of peanut butter, jelly and wheatabix. The difficulty here was that I had to use the tiny blade on my Swiss army to spread the PB and J but it was also attached to the light—quite the messy situation. Also, I had little water left so I just dumped a few packets of instant coffee into my mouth and chocked it down with a swig of water to hype myself up—yuck. I tried to finagle a free meal from the nearby campground but failed so I sat around eating candies before setting off to the start. The kid’s race began at 6:30 while the half/full marathon took off at 7. There were about 1000 people competing in total. I found out the day before that this race is ranked in the top ten most difficult in the world, not only because it’s at high altitude and it’s hot (on the equator), plus there’s a loose dirt path, it’s also incredibly hilly. The first lap was crowded enough, plenty of company,. As I turned onto the desolate second lap, I saw Omid and another man waiting for me—so sweet! We hung out together for a short while and then split up, once again, so I was all alone with a dusty trail for most of the second lap. They had people on motorbikes riding around the course, checking on everyone and handing out water and Lucozade bottles while giving words of encouragement. While running alone with maybe three km left through a heavily wooded area, a number of Impalas and baboons sprinted across the path right in front of me. I stopped dead in my tracks, waiting to see if anything more threatening was following—there were no other runners in sight and I hadn’t heard a helicopter in a while, so I started to get a little nervous. I finally picked up the pace, again, to meet a group of me in camouflage with rifles around the corner—guess I was safe! I slowly made my way across the finish like at five hours and 45 minutes. Omid was there cheering for me and gave me a big hug; it was nice to, for once, have a present fan! One of the women I met the day before handed me my celebratory goody bag containing a bottle of water, Lucozade (vomit), a hand beaded keychain, Kilkoy (woven fabric to be used as a blanket/scarf/skirt, etc), and a massive Dairy Milk Chocolate bar which I immediately consumed all of while lying half dead in the grass.

After mustering up my strength through the help of sugar and cocoa, I dragged myself back to my tent so I could take a shower. While climbing in, I met an Indian family that lives in Nairobi. The father kept insisting I join them by the fire and have a beer. I told him that I’d be back and showered (freeeeeezing) and went to the “party in the park” which was at the finish line. A stage was set up for music and dance performances; I really wanted to watch but was painfully uncomfortable because everyone was staring at the lone muzungu and kids kept begging me for food and money. Needless to say, I didn’t have the patience and quickly took off. I took a nap in the grass outside of the Banda which was in a peaceful area far away from the loud partying. I headed back to my tent after an hour or two and hung out with the Indian family for a while. They shared their food with me along with a couple of beers. I also tried Miraa, which is a grass they chew that works like an amphetamine. It was super biter and I opted to bow out after a little taste. I then headed over to where the party was really happening by the Safaricom campsite. A massive campfire was blazing with people chatting and dancing all around. I got into a conversation with a few of the Aussie marines and one kept stepping into my personal bubble. Though I kept stepping back, he continued to drunkenly encroach—it probably looked like we were doing some bazaar dance.

I excused myself to look for Omid, who actually found me within maybe two minutes; horray for sticking out in this crowd! We sat at a picnic table with two other tourists and a few local girls and guys. I have no idea how the conversation turned this way, but we started talking about how large the women’s behinds are in Africa. One of the local guys then taps me and says, “ let me tell you, our women have big butts, but our men, we have big D*cks.” Then he points to me, “you guys have the big t*ts.” Um, ok, inappropriate. I pinched Omid and told him we should go so he could get some dinner. More like, he got dinner and then shared it with me. I was so lucky to have so many people feeding me this entire weekend because I completely forgot to bring in anything besides breakfast food for before the marathon—lucky, lucky me. After hanging out for a while, exhaustion took over and we decided it was bedtime. He was nice enough to walk me back to my tent since I got lost the night before because my light wasn’t powerful enough to see beyond my hand. I sat with the Indian family for a bit and then went to sleep.

The partying died down around two in the morning, which was when my trouble started. I heard a guy yelling my name and I thought it was the Indian father returning to the site and wating me to come drink, so I ignored it. A little while later I heard him again and finally responded. Turns out, it was the son,
“Kelly, can I sleep with you?”
NO.
“Why? I have nowhere to sleep, you are alone, I am alone, let me sleep with you. I won’t do anything.”
(yeah RIGHT) NO!!!! You have family here with tents and vehicles; sleep with them.

This happened two more times. Finally, at 4:30 I told him that if he didn’t get away from my tent I was going to start screaming. He finally left, but reluctantly. The NERVE; his father is a VIP at the event and he acts so disrespectfully, wtf. Good thing I randomly decided to lock my tent on the inside before I went to sleep (for the first time, ever).

I packed everything up quickly and joined Omid for breakfast. We then headed over to the Bandas to try and figure out how to get out of the park. Omid got a ride with George while Adele had Reggie, one of the girl’s boyfriends who lives in Nairobi, to give me a free ride back alone with two of his friends; he even bought us all lunch!!! So nice of him! What a weekend.