c25k: vacation edition

last week i was in kampala (again) and indulged myself by working out at the garden city gym. i even took a few photos to share what this little oasis of fitness looks like…but am not entirely ready to post them yet (this will probably happen next week after another trip to said gym, so stand by for that!).

that run was on friday afternoon partially because it was time to run, and partially because i was getting on (another) bus that evening to travel to kenya (eldoret) to visit katie. (yay! katie!) having traveled from kotido (boarding the bus at 1:30 a.m.) to lira, changed busses and rode to kampala (after a odd obstacle at the river nile–a lorry had gone down the hill and into the nile…a crane was there to pull it out. intense) arriving in the evening i figured that a good run would help my body to adjust and realign.

then! after being in kenya for oh, maybe a day and half i was itching to get out on the road and discover the magical qualities of running in this region of kenya… the high altitude training centre is here, and some of katie’s neighbors are medal-winning-800 runners. rather than be intimidated i was excited to breathe in some fresh kenya air and enjoy the cooler climate than i typically endure.

it was beautiful.
i left katie’s gate, took a right and just ran along a out-skirts-of-eldoret-road (old nairobi, for those keeping track at home) letting my timed play list tell me when to turn around.

my plan was to just run straight up the road (and it was up. uphill. the entire way. yowza.) until my first play list was over than turn around and return the same way. that almost was what happened.

but then.

there was this really inviting foot-path off the main road that seemed to weave through a field…there were cows and trees…and i couldn’t resist! i found myself making a quick left turn onto this path as beyonce reminded me that “if [he] liked it then [he] should have put a ring on it!” i was smiling and enjoying myself–applauding my spontaneity and bravery when i realized that there was a dog following me.

and not a nice “i’m trotting after you because i’m curious” following me, but the “i’m growing and barking and maybe going to bite you” kind of following me. i pulled my earbuds out, turned around and stopped moving entirely… i bent toward the dog (he was still maybe 10 feet away) with my the backs of my hands out–non threatening…and speaking in a soft voice: “its okay…it’s alright…i’m not here for your cows…”

he stopped growing but still looked pretty intense. i stayed bowed down with my hands out, saying nice things in a nice voice and started backing away. he didn’t move–and, thankfully, his owner materialized from somewhere near by and called the dog who quickly jogged to his side. whew!

the owner and i shared a little interchange in my fake swahili and his much better english about the day, and “yes its okay to run here” and “sorry about the dog!” (that last phrase was uttered by both of us…)

feeling confident i turned back toward the foot-path and continued into the field, no more dog followers. however, when i reached the end of the path i concluded that i didn’t necessarily want a repeat of this canine encounter and decided to go along the edge of the field and then turn back, giving the pooch a wide berth. this meant running off path through tall grasses…delightful! the grass in this particular field isn’t the veld grass or any sharp cut-throat type that was going to rip at my skin, but what looked like 4 foot tall stalks of clover–delicate little poofs on the ends. hurray!

so, i ran along the edge of the field, making my own path and having a delightful time–and i spotted a swath of field back towards the road that looked to have been cleared, so i aimed for that.

this is where the real hilarity ensues: this part of the field was cleared because it seems to be where the cows graze…the grass here, while short, is a vibrant green–this is clearly where the cows enjoy their lunch. this in and of itself would have just been a nice observation, however, it rains frequently enough here that this bit of land trod my many a cattle hoof is basically a marsh. a calf-deep marsh.

i went from solid ground, trucking along nicely, to calf. deep. marsh. it took all of my core strength to not pitch forward onto my face–but i did manage to stay upright and moving in a forward direction. once i righted myself and decided that this is still FUN, began laughing and high-stepping the 1/4 of a mile back to the road. the rest of this little marsh-field was only about ankle deep, so i wasn’t as filthy as i could have been, but i was still a muddy-mess by the time i reached the road–i even had splashes of mud on my arms!

even after all these events, and having to move at a slower pace than before, my first play list still hadn’t ended so i braved more of the up-hill-battle and trudged onward, getting funny looks (even a laugh!) out of the people i was meeting on the road.

when my first play list did end and i was thrust into silence for a few minutes i noticed how loudly my shoes were squashing with every step and started to giggle again as a group of upper primary school girls walked past me…they also got a good laugh out of the whole incident–how hilarious i must have looked: mzungu woman, wearing weird clothes, covered in mud, loud shoes AND she’s laughing at nothing… i suspect i was the top of discussion at more than one home that evening!

i got my act/self together and started running DOWN the hill back toward’s katie’s place–getting confused looks and smiles from the people i had passed on the way up. “you are dirty!” one of the mamas shouted after me. i made a big deal of shrugging and we both laughed.

upon arrival back at katie’s place i asked her to document my muddy self, photos of which you can find below!

 

 

journey to juba: the “chain-roller” incident

if you’ve known me very long or know me very well you have probably ascertained by this point that i’m a firm believer in the “its all about the journey” philosophy. therefore there will not be one blog post about getting to juba, being in juba and getting home to kotido. no, no. this is the first part of a 5-part series:

journey to juba: the “chain-roller” incident (released today, 14 april 2011)
journey to juba: the hedgehog incident (releasing tomorrow,15 april 2011)
journey to juba: the passport photo incident [crossing the border] (16 april)
journey to juba: juba-failed attempts but a damn good burrito (17 april)
journey to juba: the tyre incident (18 april)

——–

the journey to juba began on a sunny thursday morning in my front yard in kotido. the car was loaded up, the dog chained up and doors locked: we were off towards lira with a final destination that day of gulu. the journey was going swimmingly until just after adilang where apparently i failed to notice a “diversion” sign. upon reaching the swamp area i noticed that the bridge over the wetlands was missing. gone. not there.

the car slowly came to a stop as i considered what to do next. as i surveyed the area, truly trying to figure out my next move i noticed two things: first there was another vehicle coming up behind me and secondarily that there were many construction vehicles in the marshy area.

the second vehicle also slowed to a stop, the driver and passenger walked to the precipice of the once-bridge and shook their heads. as they came back by my vehicle the driver and i exchanged glances that seemed to say, “eff.”

someone from the construction crew came to our assistance and offered this advice: “you reverse to there [he points behind about 100 meters] then enter. when you get stuck the chain-roller will pull you out.”

please note the grammar here: “…when you get stuck…” noted? good.

so we reversed.

as i was the first driver to come to the bridge and was therefore the first to attempt passing through the wetlands. which looked a little something like this:

"...and my name is mud..."

swampy marshlands

well so i went for it. “with force” as one of the living with shalom youth would have suggested [HT to job!], but still promptly got very stuck in this very spot. the above photograph was taken from that very place.

if you look closely at the photo you may see the gentleman on the right, wearing white. see? up there on the road? okay, this is the point where the driver behind me decided to enter the marsh. (its always good to go second!) much to my chagrin, he and his small pickup truck made it over the edge without tipping over (although it looked like a close call at one point) and safely through the middle section and back to the road.

we, however, were stuck for over an hour. i tried. really hard. to get out on my own power. used the diff-lock. reversed. used 4-wheel and 2-wheel drive…at one point in diff-lock it looked like i was going to be able to wiggle gertie (thats the car’s name) out of the mud. but alas, it did not work.

after about half an hour, when no one had come to our assistance, housemate decided to go speed things along. while she was gone i tried to get unstuck some more, and after giving up, investigated the situation more closely.

the tyres were freely moving when the accelerator was applied, so it wasn’t that kind of stuck…carefully alighting from the vehicle i peered at gertie’s belly to see that the entire undercarriage was totally stuck in the mud. everything BUT the tyres!

“MY KINGDOM FOR A SHOVEL!” i shouted.
all my shouting merited was a sore throat and the fluttering of birds in the trees.
no shovel.

housemate returned with the foreman who promised that the chain roller was really coming. really. and then he went away again to make sure that the chain roller was really coming.

perhaps you’re wondering what a “chain-roller” is. i know i was at this point in the incident, and i was about to find out. something white was coming our direction through the more secure middle-bit of the wetland. i watched it come closer, pondered it for a moment, and then asked housemate, “do you suppose THAT is the chain roller?”

she peered out the window in the direction of the apparatus approaching our vehicle and said, “probably, yes.” and then she recounted a tale of her wanderings in search of the mystical chain roller–she was told that it was coming to help us as soon as its care-takers were finished doing whatever it was that it was currently doing. in what i can only suspect was an attempt to make her feel better, the fellow she was speaking with gestured somewhere in the distance and said something about “that chain roller, it is white. like you.”

well, what was coming our direction was in fact white (i wouldn’t go so far as to say that housemate is quite that white) and, we learned, called a chain-roller in these here parts.

here is a photograph of the chain roller with housemate in the foreground so as to compare their whiteness:

"white like me"

its a bulldozer!

sadly i cannot upload the hilarious video i took of it backing toward us when it, too, got stuck. the hilarious part is my narration. perhaps its for the better, you may not find me that funny in verbal-narrative-form!

unable to approach from the front of gertie, the chain roller came around behind, was hooked up, and pulled us away from the uber muddy area. twice. after being released the first time the tyres just spun and spun–totally caked in dirt! it was if they were bald (but they aren’t!)

there was a gentleman working on the construction who decided that he’d be better suited for driving gertie over the scary hill and into the middle area. stupidly, i said “okay…” however, this did give me another opportunity to film from the backseat as we went over the edge. it is also good that i cannot upload this video as i swore a little. (sorry, mom.)

we were promptly stuck. again. housemate and i decided that had i been driving at this point we would have made it through, but i wasn’t-so we didn’t. we were stuck again, and AGAIN the marvelous chain roller came to our rescue. brilliantly, i had shifted myself from the back into my rightful driver’s seat and after being dislodged this time around we were in the clear. ptl.

mud was flying off the tyres the rest of the way to lira (um, like 2 hours later?!) and gertie was DIRTYGERTIE for quite some time after.

even with our 1-hour delay in the swamp/marsh we still managed to reach gulu by around 4pm and still visit the bank to prepare for the upcoming journey to juba.

stay tuned for tomorrow’s adventure: journey to juba: the hedgehog incident

a beauty shot of the chain roller, our friend and helper


c25k: i’ve lost track of week 4…

pre run jam (while i chased the dumb dog around the airstrip outside the compound) “tic tok” by my gurl ke$ha. don’t hate.

after 15 minutes and over 1,000 steps i caught freddie mercury (the dumb dog) and took her home, chained her up, and got the “real workout” underway.

it has been raining every afternoon for about a week, which up to now has only made for squishy-ish running. the sand in the bush has been soft but not quick-sand-like, adding a nice spring to my step.

that is until yesterday when apparently the ground soaked up the magical amount of water to create mud. about half way to the bridge i happened upon (into is probably more apt…) a massive mud…pit. to go around it i’d have had to have gone all the way to the road about a quarter of a mile away and in the moment that just seemed silly. the pit was only about 50 meters across so i figured i’d slog through and just be done with it.

easier said than done.

i did NOT fall down. i did, however, slide sideways at one point and i think i heard myself make some sort of squeak/squawk noise over the techno.

the interval was a running one and i did my best to keep moving in at least a jogging pace…once the mud pit was cleared i did my best to keep running until the interval changed to a walking one.

this provided some interesting running steps as i was trying to continue running and shake some of the 3 inches of mud off the bottom of my sneakers at the same time.

run a few steps, jump jump jump, run a few steps, STOMP STOMP STOMP. repeat.

once the walking interval toned in i paused the podcast and scraped some of the worst of the mud on a poor little thorn bush and kept moving.

this didn’t really have much of an effect, though, as it felt like there were weights around my ankles for the remainder of the run.

rather than tempt the gods who control falling by slogging back through the mud pit, i opted for the ‘easier’ route by the road.

this led to a tractor driver “racing me” and then later on a different road, nearly running me over with his scary tractor. yikes.

post running play-list
1. “bowls” by caribu (such. an. awesome. song.)
2. “go outside” by cults
3. “by your side” GAYNGS (if you like bon iver, i think you’ll like them. and if you don’t like/know bon iver then i question how it is that we are friends.)
4. “answer in one of these bottles” caitlin rose
5. “he needs me” van dyke parks