Running Revisited
My running routine has changed drastically since moving to the village. Due to the anti- malaria medication I take I am often plagued by insomnia and/or bizarre dreams. For example, last night the world was about to end and I had to choose between Mary Kate Oleson and A.C. Slater from Saved by the Bell to have a last love affair with. I’m not particularly attracted to either in real life but go figure. This type of sleeping arrangement makes running at five in the morning no longer a feasible reality. As a result, now, I usually go between 5:30-6:00 in the evening.
What does this mean? Inevitably a lot more people are awake and going about their daily lives, hence I receive a lot more attention. Many of the kids are in the midst of soccer practice and are all too eager to focus their energy on the fact that I’m running. Then the following occurs:
The boys will watch and cheer me on while waiting timidly to be invited to join. As soon as they get the inevitable hand gesture from me that says “Yes, come and run with me,” they race to catch up. Within a matter of minutes my once solo run has been increased to me and anywhere between 6-12, with more joining each day, young African children. I have decided that running with me has become one of the favorite activities and spectacles of the day for everyone except me. The following steps occur during the course of our jog:
The boys are way more “hardcore” than me. I struggle up hills avoiding large rocks, mud, and other various artifacts. The boys do it all barefoot, running on the rocks, in the mud, over the broken glass all the while not complaining or even being phased. I come home with blisters while their feet look the same as before our expedition. I need those calluses.
Inevitably, and so it goes, the boys are much faster and in much better shape than me. They attempt to encourage me interspersing phrases in broken English such as “Go, go my friend, go.” Occasionally I attempt to appease them and break into a quick wind sprint which is greeted with cheers and attempts to race me (I’m always the loser). The problem with this is I still have another mile or so to go and now am exhausted.
As we make the return trip towards home, and I slow more, and they keep their “energizer” mentality, they attempt to entertain themselves. One of their favorite tricks is sprinting ahead and sitting on a post or boulder to wait until I catch up. I know they are mocking me, but I also find it funny so I’m a good sport and let it slide.
The boys enjoy whistling while they run. Once in a while, I too will throw in a whistle or two which leaves them in frenzies of giggles and amusement. Now they want me to continue whistling. Unfortunately, I am dying, due to sprinting and inadequate air intake, as I instead waste my valuable oxygen to perform.
Finally we reach the end. They go back to playing soccer, a few beads of sweat dripping down to the side of their faces, while I red faced, sweat covered, and at the point of collapse slowly trudge back home where the ones who follow me are awarded with candy. My host mom says “You are causing problems by giving some of the children candy and not others.” My reply “They know if they run they get candy. It is fair.” And it is. And tomorrow I will probably have an entourage of 30 children running faster than me in order to obtain a lollipop. Hopefully this is a sign that I will be in good shape fast.
I am thinking I should start a village cross country team and have them compete against a “white school” (many of the nice schools are primarily white due to economic separations and living in town versus living in the village). I think it would be a huge self confidence boost for these children to see that they can compete with kids they often feel are so “above” them.
What does this mean? Inevitably a lot more people are awake and going about their daily lives, hence I receive a lot more attention. Many of the kids are in the midst of soccer practice and are all too eager to focus their energy on the fact that I’m running. Then the following occurs:
The boys will watch and cheer me on while waiting timidly to be invited to join. As soon as they get the inevitable hand gesture from me that says “Yes, come and run with me,” they race to catch up. Within a matter of minutes my once solo run has been increased to me and anywhere between 6-12, with more joining each day, young African children. I have decided that running with me has become one of the favorite activities and spectacles of the day for everyone except me. The following steps occur during the course of our jog:
The boys are way more “hardcore” than me. I struggle up hills avoiding large rocks, mud, and other various artifacts. The boys do it all barefoot, running on the rocks, in the mud, over the broken glass all the while not complaining or even being phased. I come home with blisters while their feet look the same as before our expedition. I need those calluses.
Inevitably, and so it goes, the boys are much faster and in much better shape than me. They attempt to encourage me interspersing phrases in broken English such as “Go, go my friend, go.” Occasionally I attempt to appease them and break into a quick wind sprint which is greeted with cheers and attempts to race me (I’m always the loser). The problem with this is I still have another mile or so to go and now am exhausted.
As we make the return trip towards home, and I slow more, and they keep their “energizer” mentality, they attempt to entertain themselves. One of their favorite tricks is sprinting ahead and sitting on a post or boulder to wait until I catch up. I know they are mocking me, but I also find it funny so I’m a good sport and let it slide.
The boys enjoy whistling while they run. Once in a while, I too will throw in a whistle or two which leaves them in frenzies of giggles and amusement. Now they want me to continue whistling. Unfortunately, I am dying, due to sprinting and inadequate air intake, as I instead waste my valuable oxygen to perform.
Finally we reach the end. They go back to playing soccer, a few beads of sweat dripping down to the side of their faces, while I red faced, sweat covered, and at the point of collapse slowly trudge back home where the ones who follow me are awarded with candy. My host mom says “You are causing problems by giving some of the children candy and not others.” My reply “They know if they run they get candy. It is fair.” And it is. And tomorrow I will probably have an entourage of 30 children running faster than me in order to obtain a lollipop. Hopefully this is a sign that I will be in good shape fast.
I am thinking I should start a village cross country team and have them compete against a “white school” (many of the nice schools are primarily white due to economic separations and living in town versus living in the village). I think it would be a huge self confidence boost for these children to see that they can compete with kids they often feel are so “above” them.
posted by Cait at 1:29 PM
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