I successfully completed my lone goal of finishing the race, after having done foolishly little training beforehand. Considering the lack of preparation, though, the run could have been much worse. The weather in Moshi right now is still very warm and sunny with little rain, but the race started early at 6:30am and was at a high enough elevation to be fairly breezy throughout the length of the course, so overall it still felt plenty cooler than the hot and humid Chicago Marathon of 2010 that I can compare it to.
The course was very interesting and varied in terms of its environment. The first half marathon took place throughout a series of side streets passing through villages, where runners were able to take in the wonderful scents of Kilimanjaro (a.k.a. Wake up and smell the burning garbage!). It was fun to run by the crowds of villagers on the side of the road and actually greet them in Swahili, which was not common for most of the foreigners that were running the race. And because the early part of the course was "down-and-back," I was able to see the leading pack of world-class Kenyan runners as they whizzed by me in the opposite direction and left me in their wake of clouded dust for good. If only I were able to run one 5-minute mile, let alone 26 consecutive ones, I might just have had a chance at that prize money...
The second half of the course was a tarmac road that goes up closer towards the base of the mountain, and so the stretch of miles 13-19 ish (the funnest stretch by far) was almost completely uphill. Woo. My greatest motivation during this part, however, came from a couple small Tanzanian children who started running alongside me carrying bags of cups that were being used to give water and the alternative "energy" drink, coca-cola, to the runners. So I kept telling myself that if a couple of 5-year-old boys in flip-flops carrying bags of cups could run this, then I guess I can go on a little longer. I did stop a few times on the uphill part to stretch my legs though, which I think was very necessary for my lack of preparation for the race. But the one boy stuck with me the whole way up and back down, which was very impressive. It was kind of sad though, at times I would still technically be "running", based on little more than the fact that I was swinging my arms slightly while moving, and yet the walking child beside me was still slowing down to let me catch up to him.
Near the end of the race, I met up with another Peace Corps Volunteer who was running, and we decided to finish together. Naturally this warranted some sort of finale, so we did a little routine over the last hundred feet or so involving leap-frogging, circle-swinging, and finishing with a human wheelbarrow across the finish line, which got some applause from the crowd and also got the attention of the cameraman who apparently had little work cut out for himself in between recording the exciting finish of a group of Kenyans and the goofy antics of two 6-foot-plus white people stumbling across the finish several hours later. But hey, maybe it was enough to make the Tanzanian nightly news...?
Overall, running the Kili Marathon was an experience I'll certainly never forget. Being able to look up and see the massive snow-capped peak of Africa's tallest mountain while running 42 kilometers amongst Kenyans, Tanzanians, Americans, Europeans, and others of many more nationalities in the midst of a country and a group of friends that have defined what I've called home for that last 21 months is an experience that I am extremely lucky and grateful to have had. Although, despite having added a new member to my collection of marathon medals, I have to say, a better souvenir would have been to take home a glowing piece of that radical rock.
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