Marathons are tough. Even tougher if you run on the asphalt which means constantly bashing your knees and ankles with every step. Toughest if you want to do it without much training, good shoes or a well-paced rhythm. When I was in high school, I joined the track team because I didn’t need any extra equipment and practice finished just before the last school bus left. I missed most cool-down stretches and any running tips from my coach but I was on the track team and that was enough to graduate. I got one 3rd place medal for 300m hurdles, and decided I achieved enough so I quit.
Then I moved to Cameroon and joined the Hash House Harriers running group. They switched out asphalt for the jungle which my legs seemed to accept. Suddenly running longer than 300m seemed like something I could do.
So, in 2017, I started running longer and longer distances. First 25k, then 35k and finally in 2018, I ran 42k in the Pu Long national park in Vietnam. Running marathons in the mountains is nothing like running on the road. It’s everything to do with your instinct – our ancestors were made to run in the mountains and skip over rocks and climb hills. Your breath and your mind are in sync. When you look up, you see only green towers of trees. The canopy shades you from the mid-day sun. Your steps are well matched because the trail accepts and embrace your strides.
You breathe with the wind. In the mountains, you still doubt. You doubt when you remember that it’s 42 kilometers that you running after all. You doubt at KM35 because somehow the last 7 KM always seem to be the hardest.
You doubt when you don’t have enough water to reach the next check-point. You doubt when you remember the last steep climb coming up. But nature has a way of catching you off guard with a sudden gush of reassuring wind between your arms. At times there is no one else but you and the jungle but you are not afraid. You can’t be. You belong there. You run.