Marathon...

I ran a marathon this morning here in Ghana, and once again, what an experience! I have been training (sorta) for the last few months and was not sure that I would really go through with the actual race until two days ago. When I arrived here and tried to run, it was much harder. The air here is so thick with humidity and with diesel fuel (almost all the cars and trucks run on diesel and there is no EPA so the pollution is bad). Regardless, I thought while I am in Africa, I really should make the most of every opportunity.

I woke up this morning at 3:30 am and took a taxi to downtown Accra where I was supposed to get on a bus just for the marathon that was to leave at 4:30. After some difficulty finding exactly where we were to all meet, I did meet some of the other runners and waited for the bus…and waited….and waited. Finally, at 6 it showed up and we all piled onto this bus that was packed well beyond capacity. A group of runners, for some reason, had decided to bring drums and other instruments and proceeded to play music (that was really good and different from anything I have ever heard) for the next 45 minutes to an hour as we drove to the start of the race. When we arrived, we all got out (in, seemingly, the middle of nowhere, it is actually a little beach town 26.2 miles from Accra called Prampram) and after about five minutes they said “Go!”. We were supposed to have started at 5:30, but did not start until 7, but I think that is good for Ghana ( I am still adjusting to that and am not sure I ever will). I felt great for the first ten miles or so, but then the sun came out and I started to tire. I was still ok by the half way mark, and just kept pushing. Once we hit the half way mark the whole course goes directly along the ocean for 6 or 7 miles, and it was beautiful, even though the sun was HOT by this point. As we neared Accra we ran through some very poor areas but everyone I saw was cheering us on; a neat feeling. However, because these areas are so poor there is no sidewalk and being that close to the ocean, there is no dirt, but rather just sand, so those miles, running in sand, were not all that fun.

With about a mile left I was just trying to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other when I ran up on a kid who could not have been but 9 years old. He was walking and as I passed him, I waved him to run with me and he did. I asked him if he was running the marathon (I am not sure he understood a single word I said), but he shook his head and it obvious that he had been running for a while. At one point he fell back a few yards and I motioned him to keep up, so he did. As we neared the finish line and it was at last in sight, I looked down to notice that he was wearing flip-flops! This 9 year old kid just ran a marathon in the same time I did, in flip-flops! We crossed the line together and it was almost surreal (as many things here have seemed): Here I am finishing a marathon in Africa, running with a 9 year old boy in flip-flops, the finish line is right on the beach overlooking a picturesque ocean and the first thing that happens when I finish is, instead of handing me a bottle of water, someone hands me a coconut! Another guy takes it, cuts it open with a machete for me to drink the water that is inside (there is about a liter), and then I am supposed to hand it back to him and he cuts it open so that I can eat the meat, which is soft and juicy too- not like American coconuts that I have had.

Although, by no means was it fast, I finished a marathon in Africa and it was quite the experience.