During my training for the Lake Placid Ironman July 20th, I've covered a significant portion of Goma on foot. Sunday's especially, as I run a 10 mile out and back that takes me to the border crossing to Rwanda.
I leave at 6am usually and as I head out I inevitably find myself running past small groups and individuals going the opposite direction. I haven't yet figured out where they originate, but it seems that the majority of folks I see, and there are quite a few Sunday mornings, are heading in the opposite direction. They often acknowledge me and each other with a thumbs up and "courage", giving encouragement. I've now started doing the same when I see my fellow runners throughout the week. I do get the occasional person running in the same direction and have a hard time not trying to pass them. When this happens they will always pick up the pace and run with me, at least for a while. (one weekday morning I wound up with a 12 year old school girl, in sandals, school uniform, and book bag on her back running alongside of me for about a quarter mile until her turnoff to school. Each time I looked over she was there looking back with a big proud smile, and when she turned off she bid me farewell with a wave and huge grin) It was a precious moment. That has never happened to me in the states.
The contrast between the local runners and myself is comical. Me with my running shoes, special inserts, matching top and bottom running outfit, running hat with extra breathability, and my ipod nano in hand with Nike+ accessory to monitor my milage, time, pace, and calories burned. They often are running in not much more than sandals, and even in sandals sometimes, with running clothes that consist of anything from sweat suites to kaki dress pants and button down shirts.
I don't necessarily feel guilty because of what I have, but I do realize why so many here assume the "mzungu's" are rich and have money flowing from their ears. Just look at the way the dress just to go for a run......
These sunday runs have made me feel just a little closer to the community here in Goma, even if I do stand out with my running accessaries. Instead of honking at them as I pass in my NGO Land Rover, I'm one of them, running over the same lava rocks, dodging the same puddles, breathing in the same fumes of passing vehicles, and giving encouragement to my fellow runners........
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3 comments:
Timo, I must write to you. I am a second grade teacher in Oroville now, but I stumbled across your blog this morning and was in awe of what you're doing with your life. I was a substitute teacher, when I met you. I timed you running the mile back then. I believe it was in 8th grade. I was impressed back then with your time. I thought "some day this kid will do something great". I'm so proud of you. At the time I met you I think my name was Mrs. Mitzel. You probably don't remember me. Keep up all the good work you are doing for Jesus. God Bless you!!!
What an inspiration it must be to have the community support. Your experiences are humbling to all of us.
12 year old keeping up? Maybe you should train more. =) C'est pour rire !
Take photos of your running trails. And good for you keeping up the training.
People in Paris always stare at me when I am in my running clothes and baseball cap. Strange? The Parisian girls where sweats, shirts, and even scarves. Only the men wear short shorts. HAH!
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