Where the Runners Roam

Kenya is renown for its distance runners. It seems as though Kenyans are among the top finishers in every major marathon in the world. It’s a big deal in the national media and there are regularly reports on their athletes’ exploits (although English soccer seems to have a greater following). Given this notoriety, I have been somewhat baffled by the fact that I have yet to see anyone in Kisumu actually running. Thus, this past weekend I set off for Eldoret in pursuit of the mythical Kenyan runner.

Many Kenyan athletes are members of the Kalenjin tribe which comes from the western edge of the central Rift Valley area. Based on a tip from I fellow I met on the bus to Eldoret, I visited the village of Iten, which boasts a spectacular view of the Kerio Valley and is supposedly home to several top runners. The scenery was worth the journey and I had a nice talk with William, the young guy who sells pop at the viewpoint. He confirmed that runners do live in the village, but the only one that I saw was another mzungu. When he walked by he didn’t say hello, but just grunted. From the accent of his grunt I would guess that he was eastern European. William told me that the mzungu has been in Iten for 2 months and always acts that way, providing additional support to my theory.

Back in Eldoret I visited Kipchoge Keino Stadium. I had understood this to be a popular training location for track athletes. There seemed to be quite a gathering at the stadium so I was hopeful of finding something. As I approached a young fellow walking in the other direction said to me: “Hello friend, are you coming to see Jesus?” Gee, I didn’t know he was a runner, thought I. When I entered the stadium it what obvious that this was not a sporting event but a religious rally. Signs of “Kenya Repent” were hanging on fences and people were in the stands and on the field singing along with the hymns.

I wandered around the track looking for evidence of the foot imprints of runners. A security fellow rushed towards me and I thought I was going to get kicked out. Instead, I had to politely and firmly decline his invitation to join the festivities. One fellow welcomed me and happily stated “we are all sinners.” I wondered what sins would cause him to be so happy. He asked me if I was a Christian and I said yes. He asked me if I was born again and I responded that no, I was just born this way. He said that if you are born twice you die only once, but if you are born once you die twice. I pointed out that after I die once it really doesn’t matter to me what happens after that. Fortunately, this fellow seemed to have a sense of humour.

Eldoret is a fairly large town, just a bit smaller and a lot muddier than Kisumu. However, during my time there I didn’t see any runners. My theory is that only about 100 Kenyans run in the whole country and they’re all world class calibre. If they’re not really fast they just don’t bother. I returned to Kisumu on Sunday morning and as my ride passed through one of the villages above Eldoret I finally saw one. There along the side of the road was a Kenyan out for his Sunday run. They aren’t a myth after all.