The Marathon

Last year my buddy, David, and I decided that we would run the Burkina Faso marathon. After all, it’s a physically grueling race that takes a while to prepare for and in a country where Peace Corps Volunteers lack things to do- it helps pass the time. It is also a solid goal to work towards and then when you actually do it you know that you actually accomplished something. So we found a marathon plan online, and started training. In February we ran a half marathon (see blog post) and then kept right on training for our race in June.

Unlike the Boston marathon which is run in the spring, or other marathons that are not run during the hottest part of the year, the Burkina marathon is not like that. It’s run towards the end of hot season. So, it was hot.

As the preparation went on we found out that we would be joined by two other PCVs: Tim and Natalya. Plus a few Embassy workers as well. Some people had run marathons before and were well acclimated to the stresses of running 26.2 miles. Others had read a book about how marathons are about getting to the finish line and how it’s really a combination of mind, body, and spirit. David and I just decided to download a marathon training program, follow it and see how it went.

Surprisingly it went pretty well, for a time. We started well in advance and we even had time to run half of a marathon along the way which really bolstered our spirits (see related blog post). And then we got busy. Between projects, volunteer responsibilities and the like we both stopped running religiously and unfortunately, during the month of April we barely ran at all. Tip for anyone hoping to run a marathon: don’t take most of a month off. It doesn’t do anything positive for anyone.

Once May hit we realized that we probably should be running and making sure we could actually finish the marathon. My village saw me training again and started getting excited and cheering me on. Predictably May flew by and we soon got to June.

As we got closer to the date we found out that people were planning on biking with us to bring water, snacks, and keep an eye on us. In total there were about 5 bikers with us, including Christina. The day before the race Christina and I came into the city to pick up the running shirts and where I told a bunch of people that I was going to win the marathon (I was just joking but it was kind of funny to see how people reacted).

The night before we had a pasta party of sorts and talked about pre-race questions: Is it okay to walk? Should you wear a watch? Do you run with a buddy? And then we retired to a hotel and went to bed.

The race was due to start around 630 AM so we woke up at 430 in order to be picked up by a taxi on time and get to the race a little bit early (we had watched Run Fat Boy, Run recently and were scared of showing up late). We got there in plenty of time, warmed up a bit, and all of a sudden we were off. The course started easily enough, and just as last time all the Burkinabe took off very quickly. But after 2 miles they started dropping out. The PCV group started spreading out as well.

The race course took us around Ouagadougou a bit before sending us straight up the road to a village called Laye. Taking turns and stuff and seeing people was pretty cool because we knew we were going to be bored once the course straightened out.

After a few miles (6 or so) I realized that I was pulling my pants up with alarming regularity and, being in the middle of an extremely grueling activity I didn’t react very well. My shorts elastic had been ruined by the washing techniques of Burkina (handwashing) and the elastic had stretched to the point where it no longer fit. So rather than say something logical like oh let’s use a safety pin to pin my shorts together I said something along the lines of I need a new pair of shorts (I had brought 2 but the other pair was across Ouaga). So, Christina, being the amazing person that she is said she would bike back and get my other pair of shorts and I would stop and change somewhere when she met up with me again.

For a little while I was running with another volunteer who was biking but then we got separated so I ended up running without food or water and only getting 1/3 of a liter every 5 kilometers (not as much as you need when running in an almost desert).  But, I kept going and kept pressing forward. I found another running buddy who had done the marathon before and we kept each other company for a bit. Then, the volunteers who were handing out water decided to leave because the leaders had already passed. So, the further along I got, the less water there was.

Eventually it got to the point where I was walking, had extreme tingling in my extremities, had stopped sweating, and was seeing double. I collapsed by the side of the road and realized that I should probably take a rest because someone would come past me sooner or later with water and some form of snack because I thought I was severely dehydrated. As luck would have it, Christina found me not long after and gave me fluids and bananas. I felt a bit better but not enough to keep going so I got put into a minivan and driven to the finish line. All the other volunteers finished and they were very happy.

Understandably I was pretty bummed. I hadn’t finished the marathon and I hadn’t crossed the finish line. It was not a fun situation to be in. But, after we got back to Ouaga I was talking to someone who worked at the embassy who said, “I can’t believe that course- it was too long.” I replied, “by how much?” “1.1 miles”, she replied.

And I felt great. Despite collapsing by the side of the road, and throwing a tantrum over my shorts I had still managed to finish the marathon because someone had incorrectly designed the route. Only in West Africa would that happen.

In conclusion, I ran a marathon. It was hot, it wasn’t pretty, and I didn’t cross the finish line. But I made it 26.2 miles. Maybe I’ll try and run the Boston marathon one day.