11.08.06
Kenya Diary: Iten Training Camp Part I
Iten-trailOriginally uploaded by andynoise.
Kenya Diary: Iten Training Camp Part I
(T&FN correspondent Kirk Reynolds is visiting Kenya this winter and will be submitting observations from time to time. The second major stop on Reynolds’ trip was Iten, a hotbed for distance runners.
A detour to Western Kenya (Iten observations 1)
I’m in Kenya on a spring term sabbatical from my job at a small U.S. college, and I have traveled to Kenya for two reasons.
First, I wanted to watch the Kenya National Cross Country Championships. I saw the team picked, and I’m hoping to travel to their national camp and then watch the team race in the 2004 World Cross Country Championships in Brussels in March.
My second purpose for traveling here is to examine physical activity levels in Kenyan youth. I packed 28 pedometers with me to Kenya to put on school children to see how far they walk in a day, and I have traveled to Iten, a small town in Western Kenya, to do so, since this area is the source of the vast majority of Kenya’s elite runners. It is 30-plus kilometers uphill from Eldoret.
There are many anecdotal stories about Kenyan kids traveling miles (or kilometers, rather) to and from school, but I haven’t yet found any published studies examining overall walking rates for school children in Kenya. I aim to put pedometers on children for a day to see how far in distance they travel, and how many steps they take in a 24-hour period. I’ll compare it to U.S. children when I return home.
Iten is a running hotbed. I am staying at one of the many running camps here, and have quickly felt at ease with the hosts and the others in camp, who include a handful of Kenyan men and women, plus a Dutch contingent of about eight. The last three mornings I’ve gotten up to run with someone, and there are dozens of other runners on the roads, in a multi-directional parade of sweatsuits and running shoes. In conversation, you identify yourself as staying at a particular camp. “I’m staying at Saucony.” Or, “You’re over at Fila?” Plus there are many, many other runners who are living or training in the area outside of a camp.
The area is unbelievably gorgeous. The altitude is about 8000 feet, and the land is primarily agricultural owing to the rich, fertile soil found here. The region is the most densely populated of Kenya.
In early morning when the sun rises, the land is exceedingly beautiful, and the running is magical. It’s easy to get off the single paved road between Eldoret and Iten, which becomes a busier thoroughfare during the day. You simply turn off onto one of the numerous, much-less-traveled dirt side roads and head through the shambas, or family plots, greeting the residents as they begin their day. Uniformed school-children heading to class stare at me, the mzungu, and practice their English (“How are you? How are you?”), until you think you’ve smiled, waved and said, “Hello, fine” back to each kid in town three times.
The climate and running ambiance is reminiscent of Hawaii, if you were to run on the richly-colored dirt roads of the sugar cane or pineapple farms. The main differences? Here in Iten, there are many people walking, there’s no Pacific Ocean and you’re at 8000 feet. And you’re in Africa. Otherwise, the air feels the same—crisp, clean, invigorating—and the same types of birds are singing their morning songs.
The previous two days I ran (in the most liberal sense of the word) about 35 minutes each time. At 6am it’s still pitch dark, but the daylight practically switches on since Kenya is on the equator, and by 6:20 there is ample light to see the roads.
One morning I ran with a woman in the camp from Gambia via Holland (a long story, to be sure), and she promised she was going “easy, easy” for a short run. It turned out to be a 50 minute loop that started downhill and I knew I was in trouble. After 30 minutes the route turned uphill, and with one last ‘where is he?’ look over her shoulder, she had dropped me. So I just slowed down and enjoyed the view. Plodding along, I was passed by many Kenyans running much more easily but also much quicker than I. I’m sure they were enjoying the view, too.
I have taken this most recent morning off. Instead, I walked up to the main road to see the day’s procession of athletes. In 15 minutes, I count 32 Kenyans out for a morning training run, either solo or in small groups. In a Kenya team jacket, marathon ace Joyce Chepchumba led a large group of women down the dirt road toward Kipsoen Secondary School.
My once-a-day training pales in comparison to the common training scheme here of three workouts a day. The first session is a dawn run, which for Kenyans is often a quickly-paced road run because that’s when you’re fresh from a good night’s sleep. The second workout at around 10am can be a quality track session, or strength workout, or core stability or drill workout. The third session around 4pm is an easy-paced run on the roads for 60-90 minutes to finish the day off. On Sunday, a long morning run begins in the dark at 5am and lasts 2-3 hours, and may mean only one workout that day. So that’s six days times three workouts, plus one day of only one workout: 19 workouts a week. Back at home, I’m not training for anything other than general health, keeping up with my wife and kid, and getting our dog some exercise. It takes me over three weeks to reach that same number, and we’re not even going to discuss quality.
Beyond training, there’s eating and sleeping. And that’s your day.
Kenyans do also talk a lot with each other, whether in person on the street, or on the phone. Kenya has a booming cell phone industry. It’s much simpler to put up a cell tower to cover a wide area than it would be to run land lines to each home. Kenya boasts two competing companies, and it is expensive to call from one company to a user at the other. In fact, it’s cheaper to have a cell phone from each company than it is to call between companies. Thus, a Kenyan will often have two phones tucked away. Calling Friend A on Company 1? Use this phone, and so on.
Kenyans also take great care in staying dressed up and looking snazzy, despite the widespread dirt, dust and grime that pervade the streets. Brightly colored fabrics stand out in the sun. On the streets I see suits, ties, dresses, and shiny shoes.
Walking from camp to the town of Iten with a local one day, I’m laughing hysterically. He greets this person or that person and after we walk away, gives their marathon time to me. That guy is a 2:08; this man is a 2:09. The man who just drove by in the small white Nissan pickup? 2:06. The amount of success is overwhelming.
