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Under
ordinary circumstances, a first glimpse of the disheveled group
of runners assembled for practice would have been any new cross
country coach's worst nightmare. Where one might have expected shorts
and a T-shirt— perhaps even the likes of a Nike Dry-Fit top
— appeared an assemblage of tattered dress shirts, gray slacks,
and poorly fitting, faded blue sweaters. In place of running shoes,
the high schoolers presented an array of seemingly less than ideal
options. Some donned dress shoes, others broken flip-flops, and
one student, flashing a big toothy smile, pranced around in a pair
of worn-out, low-cut Converse All-Stars. If there'd been a chance
to change into workout gear after classes, these kids surely hadn't
taken advantage of it. Yet, as the new coach, I wasn't worried.
After all, these weren't ordinary circumstances. This was Kenya.
Yes,
Kenya. A country, despite the recent efforts by its Ethiopian neighbor
to supersede it at the highest level, still held in reverence by
the international running community. To many, just another poor
African nation, beset by drought, AIDS, and infrastructural blight.
Yet to the world of endurance athletics, a factory par-excellence.
It was a factory I would come to know quite well by the end of my
three-month stay teaching at a rural school in the southern part
of the Rift Valley Province. Nothing, however, would quite come
close to that early September afternoon when we held our first practice.
Standing
outside the iron gate of Sigor High School, painted in the red,
green, and black hues of the Kenyan insignia, I barely had time
to cast a guilt-ridden glance at my brand-new Mizunos before we
were off on our first run. As we headed down the rocky dirt road,
at what I estimated to be a 6:00 per mile clip (though my sense
of pace was surely unreliable due to the 6,500 foot altitude) huts
of mud and thatch flew by, with flocks of barefoot children emerging
from their doors to cheer us on. Though undoubtedly accustomed to
the sight of young African harriers prancing past their turf, on
this day, these hordes of primary schoolers were presented with
a most unusual spectacle: The flailing limbs of a white man, or,
as known in the Kiswahili language, mzungu.
Humbled
from the get-go, I held my own in the middle of the pack as the
pace intensified, with a couple of the athletes soon absconding
into the distance as an abrupt 140 degree turn changed the terrain
from the main road to a mud-ridden cow path. Dodging puddles, stones,
and the occasional herd of cattle — flashing full sets of ribs
in an apparent state of bovine anorexia — I pressed on, moving
up as others began succumbing to exhaustion. At one point, one student
stopped to recover a fallen flip-flop, only to sprint back ahead.
Having done little speed myself in quite some time, my quads were
burning, my lactate unsettled by the fact that this perceived simple
training run had escalated into an apparent all-out anaerobic sprint.
With
barely 12 minutes gone by, our strung-out troupe was back at the
school's dual-purpose cow pasture/soccer field, led by the student
in the All-stars, who'd easily won the "race." After a
series of simple stretches (and a failed attempt on my behalf to
introduce situps and pushups, at which the Kenyans were remarkably
inept), consensus was drawn that practice was over. According to
Philemon, the leader of the pack, we'd covered a distance of four
kilometers. 3.5 at most, I figured.
"Anyone
want to add on?" I suggested. "Maybe at a slower pace?"
To
this, the circle of chocolate-colored faces greeted me with their
mouths agape in disbelief, looking at their new coach as if I not
only had the skin of a ghost but also had two heads.
"You
go and rest," responded Philemon. "We shall go again at
games-time tomorrow."
Not
training for anything in particular myself, I relented, and joined
the group for a milky, sweet, five-cent cup of Kenyan tea. After
all, while I hadn't quite established the coaching authority I'd
hoped for, I had three more months to mold a team. And, as I'd soon
learn, three more months to train with one of the most talented
young athletes in all of Kenya.
(Posted
November 15, 2005)
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