Sunday, March 14, 2010
Day by Day Play by Play
I'm finally stateside! It has been an amazing and rocky journey (literally); I've kept up on a handwritten journal as much as I could when i wasn't being thrown from wall to wall in the 21 foot swells of the Drake Passage--over the next few days I'll get each entry up and running for your reading pleasure!
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
From BOS to MIA to MIA
I just wanted to let everyone know that I am safely in Buenos Aires, Argentina--I flew from Boston on Saturday into Miami and then down South. I have plenty to say, and trust me, it has already been a bit of a "Kelly" adventure (which most of you will know what I mean by this)--I'm keeping a journal and taking tons of photos and video. Unfortunately, you're going to have to wait until I arrive back on March 14th because I will not have an internet connection and will be MIA.
I want to thank you all for your support--the race is in four days and I would not be here without you.
Thank you and I'll post everything as soon as I can!!!
I want to thank you all for your support--the race is in four days and I would not be here without you.
Thank you and I'll post everything as soon as I can!!!
Sunday, February 21, 2010
The Last Marathon
This opportunity has been a long time coming. About a year and a half ago, when I started running around the globe, one of my goals was to run a marathon on every continent, to raise awareness for the Leukemia and Lymphoma society, avoid becoming a fatty, and possibly make a personal debut in the Guinness Book of world records (to be the youngest person to run a marathon on every continent). I was crushed when I failed to be relieved from the wait-list last March during my travels.
Finally, my friends, my time has come.
That's right. On Christmas Eve I received an e-mail from Marathon Tours stating that I, indeed, would finally be added to the 2010 Antarctica Marathon roster. What a gift!
There's a little hiccup in my plans, however. The race is March 6th; I will be leaving in exactly two months for the two week trip. As one could imagine, an expedition of this demeanor does not come cheaply. I have a bit of money in the bank and have already received some very generous donations in order to make my dream become a reality. Brace yourself while I throw out this number....the excursion costs a whopping $6400. I know, it makes my eyes water to look at that price tag. I am currently looking for sponsors and am prepared to empty my bank account and/or open a new credit card to cover the cost. However, I am also extending my pleading eyes to the gracious hearts of my family and friends.
You all have supported me through my arduous international excursion, running the world for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, the Tusk Fund, Action for Cheetahs in Kenya, Takatifu Gardens, YogaMagic, as well as numerous other charitable organizations. I look to you, again, for your kinda words, strong hearts and anything else you may be able to offer. If you, or anyone else you may know, would like to contribute to helping me cross the finish line of my 7th continent, raising awareness for a charity that is near and dear to my heart and possibly planting me in the Guinness Book of World Records, please, don't hesitate to let me know.
Thank you for all of your support; words cannot truly express my gratitude.
Finally, my friends, my time has come.
That's right. On Christmas Eve I received an e-mail from Marathon Tours stating that I, indeed, would finally be added to the 2010 Antarctica Marathon roster. What a gift!
There's a little hiccup in my plans, however. The race is March 6th; I will be leaving in exactly two months for the two week trip. As one could imagine, an expedition of this demeanor does not come cheaply. I have a bit of money in the bank and have already received some very generous donations in order to make my dream become a reality. Brace yourself while I throw out this number....the excursion costs a whopping $6400. I know, it makes my eyes water to look at that price tag. I am currently looking for sponsors and am prepared to empty my bank account and/or open a new credit card to cover the cost. However, I am also extending my pleading eyes to the gracious hearts of my family and friends.
You all have supported me through my arduous international excursion, running the world for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, the Tusk Fund, Action for Cheetahs in Kenya, Takatifu Gardens, YogaMagic, as well as numerous other charitable organizations. I look to you, again, for your kinda words, strong hearts and anything else you may be able to offer. If you, or anyone else you may know, would like to contribute to helping me cross the finish line of my 7th continent, raising awareness for a charity that is near and dear to my heart and possibly planting me in the Guinness Book of World Records, please, don't hesitate to let me know.
Thank you for all of your support; words cannot truly express my gratitude.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
The Final Countdown.
Once we got back into Nairobi, I left Elissa to jet back to the Bush camp to switch my things while she got us bus tickets to Mombassa. I hung out for a bit, then we caught the overnight bus at ten p.m. The seats were comfy enough, but we got the last to spaces, so we were in the back and the roads are terribly bumpy, like, so bumpy you literally fly out of your seat. Needless to say, it was difficult to get a proper amout of shut-eye. We took a matatu to a ferry and then another matatu and then a Tuk Tuk to get to The Glory Palace Hotel, which is off of Diani Beach. It was $15 total for a double room, including breakfast and our own bathroom. There was even a pool! I spent four days unwinding by lying by the pool, heading down to the beach to sit at the 40 Thieves Restaurant and bar along the crashing waves, reading some books, and eating Mangos. It was perfect.
I headed back to Nairobi to pick up some last minute gifts and have one last night why my loves at the Bush Hostel and Camp before flying out on July 23rd, a solid ten months from my departure date. Wow. I flew into London and had a 19-hour layover where I stayed with Tania, who I had met in Goa, India, and her beautiful family. It was phenomenal to catch up with her and meet her daughters and husband. She sent me off to my flight the next day back to Boston. AHHHH. Bry Riggs was waiting for me at the airport with an “I Love Kelly” button on her shirt. lol. We were chatting non-stop on the way back to the Park Plaza Hotel where my parents and uncle were waiting for me. My mom started crying the minute she saw me across the lobby. We all embraced for the first time in over a year—I cannot describe how amazing it is to see your friends and family after such a long time along. My mom and dad were wearing shirts that had screen printed pictures of my face on them. The front had a picture of me running from the Khon Kaen race and it said “5 continents, 5 marathons” and on the back there was a picture of me at Kala Pattar with Everest in the background saying “and hiked to the base camp of Mt. Everest. Kelly, you rock!!” hahahaha I love my family. It’s good to be home.
I headed back to Nairobi to pick up some last minute gifts and have one last night why my loves at the Bush Hostel and Camp before flying out on July 23rd, a solid ten months from my departure date. Wow. I flew into London and had a 19-hour layover where I stayed with Tania, who I had met in Goa, India, and her beautiful family. It was phenomenal to catch up with her and meet her daughters and husband. She sent me off to my flight the next day back to Boston. AHHHH. Bry Riggs was waiting for me at the airport with an “I Love Kelly” button on her shirt. lol. We were chatting non-stop on the way back to the Park Plaza Hotel where my parents and uncle were waiting for me. My mom started crying the minute she saw me across the lobby. We all embraced for the first time in over a year—I cannot describe how amazing it is to see your friends and family after such a long time along. My mom and dad were wearing shirts that had screen printed pictures of my face on them. The front had a picture of me running from the Khon Kaen race and it said “5 continents, 5 marathons” and on the back there was a picture of me at Kala Pattar with Everest in the background saying “and hiked to the base camp of Mt. Everest. Kelly, you rock!!” hahahaha I love my family. It’s good to be home.
Where is Mt. Kenya? Oh, it’s in Kenya.
I got back to Nairobi and ran errands/relaxed for the next two days. I met some cool people around the hostel; namely, a bunch of Dutch guys who were there for school/work and Erin Clark, a girl from San Diego who had actually been in the Peace Corps for the past two years with a good friend of mine from MN, Bryce Gloppen. Small world! I hung out with her and her brother before they left for the beach and I left for my four day hike up Mt. Kenya.
I met at the office at eight a.m. and found out that I was hiking with another girl who was actually from North Carolina but lives in Western Massachusetts. Her name is Elissa; a 26 year old who was working as a deaf interpreter when she was in Kenya with the Peace Corps two years ago; she had to be pulled out early due to the post-election violence and has been in MA since. We spent most of the day in matatus. After having lunch in a restaurant, we met up with two Dutch kids and a German girl who were hiking with us, as well. The first day was an easy, 9km uphill walk along a road to the Old Moses camp at 3300 meters. We went through the bush and an open, charred area that had been burned in an accidental fire back in January. It was so sad to see how much of the area was destroyed due to someone’s carelessness. We stayed in a big dorm room which was freeeezing. Upon arrival, we had teatime and dinner (which consisted of massive amounts of food that neither of us could consume even half of) before heading to bed early.
We were up at six and out the door by seven the next day. The view here was better since we were in areas not destroyed by flames. We went up over and down a massive valley, then along cliff sides and rocky paths through dense clouds up to the second hut. We got in after about eight hours. We had dinner while playing cards (though the deck was a couple short) until maybe eight p.m. when we tucked ourselves in our sleeping bags with hot water bottles to get a few hours of sleep before our three a.m. wake up call. We started hiking a little before four in the morning to try and summit by sunrise. I made sure to highly caffeinate for the long, steep hike. We trekked slowly under the stars (I saw TWO shooting stars!) because the terrain consisted of crumbling rocks and the altitude was making breathing a struggle. Elissa was having difficulty with the altitude, so we had to make a lot of stops. I kept trying to give her tips to move easier because I knew exactly how she was feeling from when I hiked to Mt. Everest Base Camp. However, I didn’t want to sound like a know-it-all, either; I know I easy get pissy when I’m struggling physically and knew that that would not have helped. The sun was lifting when we were overlooking a beautiful lake. Sammy, our guide, took her pack and we made it to the top at almost eight a.m. The view was stunning! Brown/orange rocks jutting into the sky with lakes and plateaus in the distance and a glacier hanging out behind us.
We hiked three hours to our breakfast spot where we passed out for a bit, then had to continue down four hours past the lakes and some crazy plants/flowers (see flickr account for all of this photos, they provide a better picture than my words do when describing nature) to our lunch spot in a small clearing along a babbling brook. We then had to walk another 7km down a road to our camping spot. We had a proper two person tent to share where I immediately huddled in a ball, only to escape for a quick dinner and a hot water bottle to shove down my shirt in order to be warm enough to sleep.
The next day, we had to walk 32 km down a road to town for a matatu. I was miserable because my knee was killing me (too many marathons too close together, I can only assume). at 22km, a man with a car offered to drive us for 400ksh—yes!!! We had a lunch of Kinyedji (sp?) which is mashed potatoes with peas, maize, and beans and then spent about four hours on an extremely crowded matatu to get back to Nairobi.
I met at the office at eight a.m. and found out that I was hiking with another girl who was actually from North Carolina but lives in Western Massachusetts. Her name is Elissa; a 26 year old who was working as a deaf interpreter when she was in Kenya with the Peace Corps two years ago; she had to be pulled out early due to the post-election violence and has been in MA since. We spent most of the day in matatus. After having lunch in a restaurant, we met up with two Dutch kids and a German girl who were hiking with us, as well. The first day was an easy, 9km uphill walk along a road to the Old Moses camp at 3300 meters. We went through the bush and an open, charred area that had been burned in an accidental fire back in January. It was so sad to see how much of the area was destroyed due to someone’s carelessness. We stayed in a big dorm room which was freeeezing. Upon arrival, we had teatime and dinner (which consisted of massive amounts of food that neither of us could consume even half of) before heading to bed early.
We were up at six and out the door by seven the next day. The view here was better since we were in areas not destroyed by flames. We went up over and down a massive valley, then along cliff sides and rocky paths through dense clouds up to the second hut. We got in after about eight hours. We had dinner while playing cards (though the deck was a couple short) until maybe eight p.m. when we tucked ourselves in our sleeping bags with hot water bottles to get a few hours of sleep before our three a.m. wake up call. We started hiking a little before four in the morning to try and summit by sunrise. I made sure to highly caffeinate for the long, steep hike. We trekked slowly under the stars (I saw TWO shooting stars!) because the terrain consisted of crumbling rocks and the altitude was making breathing a struggle. Elissa was having difficulty with the altitude, so we had to make a lot of stops. I kept trying to give her tips to move easier because I knew exactly how she was feeling from when I hiked to Mt. Everest Base Camp. However, I didn’t want to sound like a know-it-all, either; I know I easy get pissy when I’m struggling physically and knew that that would not have helped. The sun was lifting when we were overlooking a beautiful lake. Sammy, our guide, took her pack and we made it to the top at almost eight a.m. The view was stunning! Brown/orange rocks jutting into the sky with lakes and plateaus in the distance and a glacier hanging out behind us.
We hiked three hours to our breakfast spot where we passed out for a bit, then had to continue down four hours past the lakes and some crazy plants/flowers (see flickr account for all of this photos, they provide a better picture than my words do when describing nature) to our lunch spot in a small clearing along a babbling brook. We then had to walk another 7km down a road to our camping spot. We had a proper two person tent to share where I immediately huddled in a ball, only to escape for a quick dinner and a hot water bottle to shove down my shirt in order to be warm enough to sleep.
The next day, we had to walk 32 km down a road to town for a matatu. I was miserable because my knee was killing me (too many marathons too close together, I can only assume). at 22km, a man with a car offered to drive us for 400ksh—yes!!! We had a lunch of Kinyedji (sp?) which is mashed potatoes with peas, maize, and beans and then spent about four hours on an extremely crowded matatu to get back to Nairobi.
Sodium Chloride like never seen before
I took a bus back to Naivasha, which didn’t drop me off in the same place it did a few weeks, prior. They let me off on the highway where a few Boda Bodas were hanging out (apparently they knew I was coming). I told the guy where I was going and he was trying to charge me ridiculous amounts; I told him I’d pay him 100ksh to bring me just into town so I could get a matatu. He argued with me for a while and we finally agreed that he could either get paid 100 to bring me to a matatu or 200 to bring me to the camp. He decided on the latter; we stopped to get some gas and when we were turning onto the road that would bring us to the camp (in the dark, mind you) the back tire skid out and we almost toppled over. Turned out his back tire went flat and we had to sit on the side of the road, again, IN THE DARK, to wait for a matatu. He kept insisting that I give him more money for his tire; it’s not my fault your tire blew out! I got in the matatu which was decked out in black lights and neon décor, and stayed at Crayfish camp the first night.
I was thoroughly unimpressed and left early in the morning to go back to Fisherman’s where I had stayed a few weeks prior. I then rented a bike and decided to go to Crater Lake. The park was 19 km away, which was fine for about 14km, the last five were extremely sandy and bumpy. I finally arrived, soaked in sweat. The man at the entrance gate gave me a few wondering options; I decided to go for a loop around the park and end up at the lake. I got lost right away; he said to go straight and at the fork go left. There were two paths that veered left so I chose the one that was well traveled. After walking for about ten minutes, I came across two men and asked them if I was on the right path to the Salt Licks (I didn’t actually know what this meant at the time) and, of course, I had chosen the wrong path. They pointed me to a short cut, basically I was to follow some overhead wires to arrive at the right spot (but don’t disturb the Buffalo….ahhhh!). I arrived in an open space filled with Zebras, Impala, Monkeys, and Giraffes. you can get so close to them! At the time, I didn’t realize that this was, indeed, the Salt Lick (no sight, wtf, how should I know!), so I kept walking until I came to a big field with another path. I followed it past cows being herded by the Masai and forests of Acacia trees until I came to an electric fence. YES! The man said to turn right at the fence and follow it to the lake. But, wait…how am I on the outside of the fence? And there’s a huge lake in front of me; is that Lake Naivasha??? How the hell did I end up outside of the park? I walked all the way back to the Giraffes and found a Kenya Wildlife Service car; I asked which direction to the lake and he pointed me in the right direction.
Oh, good, I finally found the right fence (and was on the inside this time) which brought me back to the spot where the paths originally forked….huh???? How am I back at the beginning? I took the path that said “lookout point” and ended up on the top of a hill overlooking the lake. Horray! It only took me two and a half hours to find it. I ran into a California family who told me where the path was to get down to the restaurant. I moseyed on down to find a dock leading out to a floating seating area. When I stepped out, about twenty small birds that looked like sparrows (called Plain Martins) all started flying around me in circles for a solid minute. I really didn’t know what to think about it; but it felt really amazing to be in the center of a little birdie tornado.
The water in the crater is extremely acidic with a pH of 11, causing a lot of algae to grow, coloring the water lime green and drawing in flocks of bright pink flamingos. Also, a ring of Sodium Chloride circles the lake; it’s remarkable to see all of these colors together! I sat at the restaurant and relaxed with a soda and French fries before the 19km bike ride back—exhausted! I read a bit of Obama’s “Dreams From My Father” while hovering down some beef stew and Ugali before passing out in my tent so I could head back to Nairobi in the AM.
I was thoroughly unimpressed and left early in the morning to go back to Fisherman’s where I had stayed a few weeks prior. I then rented a bike and decided to go to Crater Lake. The park was 19 km away, which was fine for about 14km, the last five were extremely sandy and bumpy. I finally arrived, soaked in sweat. The man at the entrance gate gave me a few wondering options; I decided to go for a loop around the park and end up at the lake. I got lost right away; he said to go straight and at the fork go left. There were two paths that veered left so I chose the one that was well traveled. After walking for about ten minutes, I came across two men and asked them if I was on the right path to the Salt Licks (I didn’t actually know what this meant at the time) and, of course, I had chosen the wrong path. They pointed me to a short cut, basically I was to follow some overhead wires to arrive at the right spot (but don’t disturb the Buffalo….ahhhh!). I arrived in an open space filled with Zebras, Impala, Monkeys, and Giraffes. you can get so close to them! At the time, I didn’t realize that this was, indeed, the Salt Lick (no sight, wtf, how should I know!), so I kept walking until I came to a big field with another path. I followed it past cows being herded by the Masai and forests of Acacia trees until I came to an electric fence. YES! The man said to turn right at the fence and follow it to the lake. But, wait…how am I on the outside of the fence? And there’s a huge lake in front of me; is that Lake Naivasha??? How the hell did I end up outside of the park? I walked all the way back to the Giraffes and found a Kenya Wildlife Service car; I asked which direction to the lake and he pointed me in the right direction.
Oh, good, I finally found the right fence (and was on the inside this time) which brought me back to the spot where the paths originally forked….huh???? How am I back at the beginning? I took the path that said “lookout point” and ended up on the top of a hill overlooking the lake. Horray! It only took me two and a half hours to find it. I ran into a California family who told me where the path was to get down to the restaurant. I moseyed on down to find a dock leading out to a floating seating area. When I stepped out, about twenty small birds that looked like sparrows (called Plain Martins) all started flying around me in circles for a solid minute. I really didn’t know what to think about it; but it felt really amazing to be in the center of a little birdie tornado.
The water in the crater is extremely acidic with a pH of 11, causing a lot of algae to grow, coloring the water lime green and drawing in flocks of bright pink flamingos. Also, a ring of Sodium Chloride circles the lake; it’s remarkable to see all of these colors together! I sat at the restaurant and relaxed with a soda and French fries before the 19km bike ride back—exhausted! I read a bit of Obama’s “Dreams From My Father” while hovering down some beef stew and Ugali before passing out in my tent so I could head back to Nairobi in the AM.
Afro Adventures: Lewa Safaricom Marathon
***Warning: some crass language***
Getting to the Lewa Wildlife Conservancy was a disaster. I was told that, through a series of matatus, I should get there in four or five hours TOPS. I left Lake Naivasha at ten a.m. and took a 60-shilling ride into Naivasha town where I was to switch to go to Nyahururu—they were charging 400ksh but when I went to the grocery store and asked around, they said it should be 200. I argued with the man trying to shove me in his matatu until I got the price down to 300 but he was super angry and giving me the stare down. Too bad, son. However, this just screwed me because the matatu took FOREVER to get going and then they made we switch vans. Whack. It was significantly farther to Nyahururu than I though; once we got there the driver was nice enough to show me where to get another to Nanyuki; thank God for him, I was harassed more here than in India. One guy wouldn’t give me my bag and said he’d carry it for me. Finally, I said he could do it if he wanted but I wasn’t going to pay him. He gave it back right away. On the way, the other drivers literally were grabbing my bags and surrounding me, trying to pull me towards their vehicle until I started screaming at them to get away. Finally, I got in the van but I wasn’t out of the woods. It sat in the lot for over an hour waiting for it to fill up with passengers, meanwhile everyone was trying to sell their goodies to the mazungu or just stood staring at me with their noses plastered up against the windows. One guy came up to me and said, “oh, it’s hot…” Then held up his cart of shriveled meat, “sausage?” NO! I don’t want your damn greasy meat stick, that’s the last thing I want to put in my mouth right now! After two hours of driving we should’ve been there, but we were actually in Nyeri, where the driver made me get out and onto another van because he wasn’t actually going to Nanyuki---UGH, why the hell did you force me on here with such a vengeance then? Another hour, I transfer to Isiolo, which took two hours and from THERE I needed a ten to twenty minute cab ride to the Lewa gate.
It was dark at this point and I wasn’t sure if he was a registered cab so I asked for his papers (Which I have no idea what they’re supposed to look like). He called my bluff and showed me something. I bargained down from 1000 to 600 ksh. We stopped at the gas station and asked for the money so he could fill up his tank. I gave him a 1000ksh bill and he tried to keep it all. I said he owed me 400 but he tried to keep driving. NO STOP! I made him make sure he had change or else he had to get out and get change at the station. He finally gave me my money but proceeded, the entire ride, to say that the trip was much further than 12km like I had said and that he should get more money. This conversation is occurring as he’s going 120km/hr down a dark, bumpy dirty road. “Please, sir, just bring me to the gate, we already discussed the pay.” There was no seatbelt, so I was bracing myself against his seat incase of a crash. The road became a big construction zone and he goes, “Ya know, it’s very dangerous out here in a cab in the dark.” I chose to ignore that statement and started to text Adele (the woman I had been in contact with the entire trip who is on staff for the race) who was having George, one of the park’s drivers, waiting for me at the gate. The cabbie couldn’t figure out where the entrance was and stopped a guy wondering down the dark road to ask; he let him IN the car—omgomgomgomgomg. George called when I texted that my cabbie was crazy and lost but my driver refused to take the phone for directions. Finally, he found the gate and I jumped out and grabbed my things as he insisted, again, I’d give him more money. NO! I ran through the gate and into George’s car who then brought me to the staff house; Adele had been worried about my safety and didn’t want me trying to pitch a tent in the dark.
I walked through a beautiful entryway to a long, candle lit table outside looking out towards the park. She immediately had me sit down and grabbed me a plate of food and a glass of wine that was SO desperately needed. I sat talking to about fifteen people who wre in charge, in one-way or another, of the race, mostly from the UK but also the USA and Australia. Adele had originally told me I could pitch my tent on the staff grounds, but then surprised me with my own room—a king-sized bed that smelled of Downy freshness (!!!!) and a bathroom with HOT pressurized showers. Yesssss. Things always work out, don’t they? I slept soundly until around seven a.m. then met everyone for breakfast—eggs my way, toast, wheatabix, porridge, bacon, beans, fruit juice, yogurt…perfection. An older woman from the States and her Aussie husband chatted with me for a while after we ate. her husband, Roger, was saying that it’s nice, yet bizarre, to just sit back and watch a race happen without doing announcing or timing and Katherine had said something about interviewing racers when I asked how they got into that. Turns out, Roger holds a world record for something (I was never exactly explained what) and Katherine was a previous NYC marathon winner as well as a pioneer for female long distance running throughout Europe. I’d been sitting chit-chatting with a bunch of world record holders, people that are ACTUALLY a big deal and I had no idea!
They all had to roll out to different meetings and such, so I sat around reading when I met Joan and Doreen, two super adorable older women who come to help with timing every year. Doreen has been in Kenya since 1961 (Originally from South Africa) and is a primary school teacher while Joan has been residing in Kenya since 1954 and describes herself as a “lay-about,” HAH! They both live with their husbands in Nairobi; we sat chatting about their lives and travels while watching wild animals roam about near the swamp not far from our seats. I was told to not leave the area around the house because predatory animals do live and wonder nearby and I could easily be hurt (i.e. consumed). I chatted with those two until George picked me up at one to bring me to registration and to set up my tent. Good thing I didn’t have to go the night before because no one was on the campgrounds yet--my sad little tent sat all alone. After, I went and wondered around the Banda for a while; it’s just a small hut/building where one can purchase souvenirs. I hung out on a picnic table ready my Obama book next to a cute guy ( ☺ ) when the rest of his running group came up. We all started chatting about traveling when one of the guys, an Italian around my age, stops me, “ wait, are you running a marathon on every continent? I saw your Facebook event and wrote on the wall. I knew I recognized your face.” omg. Needless to say, I was shocked that a random guy knew who I was, though it felt pretty amazing. The group (all in their mid 20’s-40’s) consisted of a bunch of men who work for Deutsch Bank in London and came over just to run the race. They were stayed at a nice camp with beds and catering and headed to their driver to go back. I went back to my book when the cute guy came back and invited me to come with—free food? um, yes@ I hung out with them for lunch then they dropped me off at the registration tent in order for me to go on a short game safari. I sat around for almost an hour until the driver finally showed and we were off through the park seeing elephants, zebras, warthogs, giraffes, impalas and a rhino! There were three others, a couple from German (I think) and a young guy from Canada, Omid, who was super cool. He was working Uganda and was sponsored by his company to do this race (he previously ran a race raising money for arthritis). We got along really well and hung out later that evening for the pasta party.
First,, there was a race briefing and after I saw food being dolled out so I grabbed a plate and helped myself. As I walked away and looked around, I realized that no one else was lining up. I accidentally took a plate of food from the Marines!!!! ahhh. Omid found me at that point and just laughed as I hid and hovered it down. Abut a half hour later, we went to the real pasta party and carbo-loaded then headed to bed.
I was so afraid I’d sleep through the start that I woke up basically every hour. At 4:30a.m. I finally got up and started to get ready. My tent is technically for two people, but I have no idea how that’s possible unless one lies on top of the other. I fit with my bag just barely. If my head is up against one side, I just fit lying flat, so usually I’d either be in a ball or lying diagonally. Anyway, attempting to change in this small space was difficult. Also, my headlamp’s batteries died so I was working via a small Swiss army knife light. After wrangling my body into my spandex it was time for a delicious breakfast of peanut butter, jelly and wheatabix. The difficulty here was that I had to use the tiny blade on my Swiss army to spread the PB and J but it was also attached to the light—quite the messy situation. Also, I had little water left so I just dumped a few packets of instant coffee into my mouth and chocked it down with a swig of water to hype myself up—yuck. I tried to finagle a free meal from the nearby campground but failed so I sat around eating candies before setting off to the start. The kid’s race began at 6:30 while the half/full marathon took off at 7. There were about 1000 people competing in total. I found out the day before that this race is ranked in the top ten most difficult in the world, not only because it’s at high altitude and it’s hot (on the equator), plus there’s a loose dirt path, it’s also incredibly hilly. The first lap was crowded enough, plenty of company,. As I turned onto the desolate second lap, I saw Omid and another man waiting for me—so sweet! We hung out together for a short while and then split up, once again, so I was all alone with a dusty trail for most of the second lap. They had people on motorbikes riding around the course, checking on everyone and handing out water and Lucozade bottles while giving words of encouragement. While running alone with maybe three km left through a heavily wooded area, a number of Impalas and baboons sprinted across the path right in front of me. I stopped dead in my tracks, waiting to see if anything more threatening was following—there were no other runners in sight and I hadn’t heard a helicopter in a while, so I started to get a little nervous. I finally picked up the pace, again, to meet a group of me in camouflage with rifles around the corner—guess I was safe! I slowly made my way across the finish like at five hours and 45 minutes. Omid was there cheering for me and gave me a big hug; it was nice to, for once, have a present fan! One of the women I met the day before handed me my celebratory goody bag containing a bottle of water, Lucozade (vomit), a hand beaded keychain, Kilkoy (woven fabric to be used as a blanket/scarf/skirt, etc), and a massive Dairy Milk Chocolate bar which I immediately consumed all of while lying half dead in the grass.
After mustering up my strength through the help of sugar and cocoa, I dragged myself back to my tent so I could take a shower. While climbing in, I met an Indian family that lives in Nairobi. The father kept insisting I join them by the fire and have a beer. I told him that I’d be back and showered (freeeeeezing) and went to the “party in the park” which was at the finish line. A stage was set up for music and dance performances; I really wanted to watch but was painfully uncomfortable because everyone was staring at the lone muzungu and kids kept begging me for food and money. Needless to say, I didn’t have the patience and quickly took off. I took a nap in the grass outside of the Banda which was in a peaceful area far away from the loud partying. I headed back to my tent after an hour or two and hung out with the Indian family for a while. They shared their food with me along with a couple of beers. I also tried Miraa, which is a grass they chew that works like an amphetamine. It was super biter and I opted to bow out after a little taste. I then headed over to where the party was really happening by the Safaricom campsite. A massive campfire was blazing with people chatting and dancing all around. I got into a conversation with a few of the Aussie marines and one kept stepping into my personal bubble. Though I kept stepping back, he continued to drunkenly encroach—it probably looked like we were doing some bazaar dance.
I excused myself to look for Omid, who actually found me within maybe two minutes; horray for sticking out in this crowd! We sat at a picnic table with two other tourists and a few local girls and guys. I have no idea how the conversation turned this way, but we started talking about how large the women’s behinds are in Africa. One of the local guys then taps me and says, “ let me tell you, our women have big butts, but our men, we have big D*cks.” Then he points to me, “you guys have the big t*ts.” Um, ok, inappropriate. I pinched Omid and told him we should go so he could get some dinner. More like, he got dinner and then shared it with me. I was so lucky to have so many people feeding me this entire weekend because I completely forgot to bring in anything besides breakfast food for before the marathon—lucky, lucky me. After hanging out for a while, exhaustion took over and we decided it was bedtime. He was nice enough to walk me back to my tent since I got lost the night before because my light wasn’t powerful enough to see beyond my hand. I sat with the Indian family for a bit and then went to sleep.
The partying died down around two in the morning, which was when my trouble started. I heard a guy yelling my name and I thought it was the Indian father returning to the site and wating me to come drink, so I ignored it. A little while later I heard him again and finally responded. Turns out, it was the son,
“Kelly, can I sleep with you?”
NO.
“Why? I have nowhere to sleep, you are alone, I am alone, let me sleep with you. I won’t do anything.”
(yeah RIGHT) NO!!!! You have family here with tents and vehicles; sleep with them.
This happened two more times. Finally, at 4:30 I told him that if he didn’t get away from my tent I was going to start screaming. He finally left, but reluctantly. The NERVE; his father is a VIP at the event and he acts so disrespectfully, wtf. Good thing I randomly decided to lock my tent on the inside before I went to sleep (for the first time, ever).
I packed everything up quickly and joined Omid for breakfast. We then headed over to the Bandas to try and figure out how to get out of the park. Omid got a ride with George while Adele had Reggie, one of the girl’s boyfriends who lives in Nairobi, to give me a free ride back alone with two of his friends; he even bought us all lunch!!! So nice of him! What a weekend.
Getting to the Lewa Wildlife Conservancy was a disaster. I was told that, through a series of matatus, I should get there in four or five hours TOPS. I left Lake Naivasha at ten a.m. and took a 60-shilling ride into Naivasha town where I was to switch to go to Nyahururu—they were charging 400ksh but when I went to the grocery store and asked around, they said it should be 200. I argued with the man trying to shove me in his matatu until I got the price down to 300 but he was super angry and giving me the stare down. Too bad, son. However, this just screwed me because the matatu took FOREVER to get going and then they made we switch vans. Whack. It was significantly farther to Nyahururu than I though; once we got there the driver was nice enough to show me where to get another to Nanyuki; thank God for him, I was harassed more here than in India. One guy wouldn’t give me my bag and said he’d carry it for me. Finally, I said he could do it if he wanted but I wasn’t going to pay him. He gave it back right away. On the way, the other drivers literally were grabbing my bags and surrounding me, trying to pull me towards their vehicle until I started screaming at them to get away. Finally, I got in the van but I wasn’t out of the woods. It sat in the lot for over an hour waiting for it to fill up with passengers, meanwhile everyone was trying to sell their goodies to the mazungu or just stood staring at me with their noses plastered up against the windows. One guy came up to me and said, “oh, it’s hot…” Then held up his cart of shriveled meat, “sausage?” NO! I don’t want your damn greasy meat stick, that’s the last thing I want to put in my mouth right now! After two hours of driving we should’ve been there, but we were actually in Nyeri, where the driver made me get out and onto another van because he wasn’t actually going to Nanyuki---UGH, why the hell did you force me on here with such a vengeance then? Another hour, I transfer to Isiolo, which took two hours and from THERE I needed a ten to twenty minute cab ride to the Lewa gate.
It was dark at this point and I wasn’t sure if he was a registered cab so I asked for his papers (Which I have no idea what they’re supposed to look like). He called my bluff and showed me something. I bargained down from 1000 to 600 ksh. We stopped at the gas station and asked for the money so he could fill up his tank. I gave him a 1000ksh bill and he tried to keep it all. I said he owed me 400 but he tried to keep driving. NO STOP! I made him make sure he had change or else he had to get out and get change at the station. He finally gave me my money but proceeded, the entire ride, to say that the trip was much further than 12km like I had said and that he should get more money. This conversation is occurring as he’s going 120km/hr down a dark, bumpy dirty road. “Please, sir, just bring me to the gate, we already discussed the pay.” There was no seatbelt, so I was bracing myself against his seat incase of a crash. The road became a big construction zone and he goes, “Ya know, it’s very dangerous out here in a cab in the dark.” I chose to ignore that statement and started to text Adele (the woman I had been in contact with the entire trip who is on staff for the race) who was having George, one of the park’s drivers, waiting for me at the gate. The cabbie couldn’t figure out where the entrance was and stopped a guy wondering down the dark road to ask; he let him IN the car—omgomgomgomgomg. George called when I texted that my cabbie was crazy and lost but my driver refused to take the phone for directions. Finally, he found the gate and I jumped out and grabbed my things as he insisted, again, I’d give him more money. NO! I ran through the gate and into George’s car who then brought me to the staff house; Adele had been worried about my safety and didn’t want me trying to pitch a tent in the dark.
I walked through a beautiful entryway to a long, candle lit table outside looking out towards the park. She immediately had me sit down and grabbed me a plate of food and a glass of wine that was SO desperately needed. I sat talking to about fifteen people who wre in charge, in one-way or another, of the race, mostly from the UK but also the USA and Australia. Adele had originally told me I could pitch my tent on the staff grounds, but then surprised me with my own room—a king-sized bed that smelled of Downy freshness (!!!!) and a bathroom with HOT pressurized showers. Yesssss. Things always work out, don’t they? I slept soundly until around seven a.m. then met everyone for breakfast—eggs my way, toast, wheatabix, porridge, bacon, beans, fruit juice, yogurt…perfection. An older woman from the States and her Aussie husband chatted with me for a while after we ate. her husband, Roger, was saying that it’s nice, yet bizarre, to just sit back and watch a race happen without doing announcing or timing and Katherine had said something about interviewing racers when I asked how they got into that. Turns out, Roger holds a world record for something (I was never exactly explained what) and Katherine was a previous NYC marathon winner as well as a pioneer for female long distance running throughout Europe. I’d been sitting chit-chatting with a bunch of world record holders, people that are ACTUALLY a big deal and I had no idea!
They all had to roll out to different meetings and such, so I sat around reading when I met Joan and Doreen, two super adorable older women who come to help with timing every year. Doreen has been in Kenya since 1961 (Originally from South Africa) and is a primary school teacher while Joan has been residing in Kenya since 1954 and describes herself as a “lay-about,” HAH! They both live with their husbands in Nairobi; we sat chatting about their lives and travels while watching wild animals roam about near the swamp not far from our seats. I was told to not leave the area around the house because predatory animals do live and wonder nearby and I could easily be hurt (i.e. consumed). I chatted with those two until George picked me up at one to bring me to registration and to set up my tent. Good thing I didn’t have to go the night before because no one was on the campgrounds yet--my sad little tent sat all alone. After, I went and wondered around the Banda for a while; it’s just a small hut/building where one can purchase souvenirs. I hung out on a picnic table ready my Obama book next to a cute guy ( ☺ ) when the rest of his running group came up. We all started chatting about traveling when one of the guys, an Italian around my age, stops me, “ wait, are you running a marathon on every continent? I saw your Facebook event and wrote on the wall. I knew I recognized your face.” omg. Needless to say, I was shocked that a random guy knew who I was, though it felt pretty amazing. The group (all in their mid 20’s-40’s) consisted of a bunch of men who work for Deutsch Bank in London and came over just to run the race. They were stayed at a nice camp with beds and catering and headed to their driver to go back. I went back to my book when the cute guy came back and invited me to come with—free food? um, yes@ I hung out with them for lunch then they dropped me off at the registration tent in order for me to go on a short game safari. I sat around for almost an hour until the driver finally showed and we were off through the park seeing elephants, zebras, warthogs, giraffes, impalas and a rhino! There were three others, a couple from German (I think) and a young guy from Canada, Omid, who was super cool. He was working Uganda and was sponsored by his company to do this race (he previously ran a race raising money for arthritis). We got along really well and hung out later that evening for the pasta party.
First,, there was a race briefing and after I saw food being dolled out so I grabbed a plate and helped myself. As I walked away and looked around, I realized that no one else was lining up. I accidentally took a plate of food from the Marines!!!! ahhh. Omid found me at that point and just laughed as I hid and hovered it down. Abut a half hour later, we went to the real pasta party and carbo-loaded then headed to bed.
I was so afraid I’d sleep through the start that I woke up basically every hour. At 4:30a.m. I finally got up and started to get ready. My tent is technically for two people, but I have no idea how that’s possible unless one lies on top of the other. I fit with my bag just barely. If my head is up against one side, I just fit lying flat, so usually I’d either be in a ball or lying diagonally. Anyway, attempting to change in this small space was difficult. Also, my headlamp’s batteries died so I was working via a small Swiss army knife light. After wrangling my body into my spandex it was time for a delicious breakfast of peanut butter, jelly and wheatabix. The difficulty here was that I had to use the tiny blade on my Swiss army to spread the PB and J but it was also attached to the light—quite the messy situation. Also, I had little water left so I just dumped a few packets of instant coffee into my mouth and chocked it down with a swig of water to hype myself up—yuck. I tried to finagle a free meal from the nearby campground but failed so I sat around eating candies before setting off to the start. The kid’s race began at 6:30 while the half/full marathon took off at 7. There were about 1000 people competing in total. I found out the day before that this race is ranked in the top ten most difficult in the world, not only because it’s at high altitude and it’s hot (on the equator), plus there’s a loose dirt path, it’s also incredibly hilly. The first lap was crowded enough, plenty of company,. As I turned onto the desolate second lap, I saw Omid and another man waiting for me—so sweet! We hung out together for a short while and then split up, once again, so I was all alone with a dusty trail for most of the second lap. They had people on motorbikes riding around the course, checking on everyone and handing out water and Lucozade bottles while giving words of encouragement. While running alone with maybe three km left through a heavily wooded area, a number of Impalas and baboons sprinted across the path right in front of me. I stopped dead in my tracks, waiting to see if anything more threatening was following—there were no other runners in sight and I hadn’t heard a helicopter in a while, so I started to get a little nervous. I finally picked up the pace, again, to meet a group of me in camouflage with rifles around the corner—guess I was safe! I slowly made my way across the finish like at five hours and 45 minutes. Omid was there cheering for me and gave me a big hug; it was nice to, for once, have a present fan! One of the women I met the day before handed me my celebratory goody bag containing a bottle of water, Lucozade (vomit), a hand beaded keychain, Kilkoy (woven fabric to be used as a blanket/scarf/skirt, etc), and a massive Dairy Milk Chocolate bar which I immediately consumed all of while lying half dead in the grass.
After mustering up my strength through the help of sugar and cocoa, I dragged myself back to my tent so I could take a shower. While climbing in, I met an Indian family that lives in Nairobi. The father kept insisting I join them by the fire and have a beer. I told him that I’d be back and showered (freeeeeezing) and went to the “party in the park” which was at the finish line. A stage was set up for music and dance performances; I really wanted to watch but was painfully uncomfortable because everyone was staring at the lone muzungu and kids kept begging me for food and money. Needless to say, I didn’t have the patience and quickly took off. I took a nap in the grass outside of the Banda which was in a peaceful area far away from the loud partying. I headed back to my tent after an hour or two and hung out with the Indian family for a while. They shared their food with me along with a couple of beers. I also tried Miraa, which is a grass they chew that works like an amphetamine. It was super biter and I opted to bow out after a little taste. I then headed over to where the party was really happening by the Safaricom campsite. A massive campfire was blazing with people chatting and dancing all around. I got into a conversation with a few of the Aussie marines and one kept stepping into my personal bubble. Though I kept stepping back, he continued to drunkenly encroach—it probably looked like we were doing some bazaar dance.
I excused myself to look for Omid, who actually found me within maybe two minutes; horray for sticking out in this crowd! We sat at a picnic table with two other tourists and a few local girls and guys. I have no idea how the conversation turned this way, but we started talking about how large the women’s behinds are in Africa. One of the local guys then taps me and says, “ let me tell you, our women have big butts, but our men, we have big D*cks.” Then he points to me, “you guys have the big t*ts.” Um, ok, inappropriate. I pinched Omid and told him we should go so he could get some dinner. More like, he got dinner and then shared it with me. I was so lucky to have so many people feeding me this entire weekend because I completely forgot to bring in anything besides breakfast food for before the marathon—lucky, lucky me. After hanging out for a while, exhaustion took over and we decided it was bedtime. He was nice enough to walk me back to my tent since I got lost the night before because my light wasn’t powerful enough to see beyond my hand. I sat with the Indian family for a bit and then went to sleep.
The partying died down around two in the morning, which was when my trouble started. I heard a guy yelling my name and I thought it was the Indian father returning to the site and wating me to come drink, so I ignored it. A little while later I heard him again and finally responded. Turns out, it was the son,
“Kelly, can I sleep with you?”
NO.
“Why? I have nowhere to sleep, you are alone, I am alone, let me sleep with you. I won’t do anything.”
(yeah RIGHT) NO!!!! You have family here with tents and vehicles; sleep with them.
This happened two more times. Finally, at 4:30 I told him that if he didn’t get away from my tent I was going to start screaming. He finally left, but reluctantly. The NERVE; his father is a VIP at the event and he acts so disrespectfully, wtf. Good thing I randomly decided to lock my tent on the inside before I went to sleep (for the first time, ever).
I packed everything up quickly and joined Omid for breakfast. We then headed over to the Bandas to try and figure out how to get out of the park. Omid got a ride with George while Adele had Reggie, one of the girl’s boyfriends who lives in Nairobi, to give me a free ride back alone with two of his friends; he even bought us all lunch!!! So nice of him! What a weekend.
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