Kigali Peace Marathon

The Kigali Peace Marathon is about peace. The race begins and ends at Amahoro Stadium, which means Peace Stadium.  Indeed, Amahoro (Peace) is a common Kinyarwanda greeting in Rwanda.  The Kigali Marathon events were (1) full marathon, (2) half marathon and (3) 7 km fun run. Five days before the Kigali Peace Marathon, without having trained at all, I decided to register for the half-marathon race. After an internet search, I booked an economically-priced guesthouse said to be a five-minute walk from the stadium.

The day before the race, I took a bus into Kigali.  We were delayed for over an hour waiting for a cycling race to pass by on the road.  After arriving at Nyabugogo, the main bus station in Kigali, I took a taxi to the stadium to pick up my race packet by 6 p.m. It included my number, a yellow plastic water bottle, a yellow backpack, a yellow singlet and pins to pin my number to my singlet.  Everything was yellow because the race’s main sponsor was MTN, whose logo is “Yello,” apparently a take-off on “Hello” but yello because their logo color is yellow.  MTN is a South African telecommunications company and the major phone and internet provider in Rwanda.  It is my carrier, so I was glad they were sponsoring the race.

After some difficulty, I found the guesthouse, which was about a ten-minute walk from the stadium down a steep, rutted dirt road.  The guesthouse happily accommodated me by providing an extra early breakfast of an omelet, bread and coffee at 6:15 a.m. and allowing me a late check-out so I could leave my belongings in the room until after the race.

The race beginning was well organized. At the entrance to the stadium grounds, we formed two lines: male and female.  We were each patted down by security officers as we entered the grounds.  Only participants were allowed to enter the grounds, so my friend who accompanied me waited outside.

The participants then walked to the actual stadium, milling around as we awaited the order to convene at the starting line. There was no food, so I was glad to have had a substantial breakfast.  I chatted with an American woman who worked in the Congo (Rwanda’s neighbor to the west) for an NGO that encourages running.  She was running with a large group of Congolese teenaged girls.  At around 7:15 a.m., we amassed at the start line, and at 7:30 a.m., we promptly started the race.

I started the race by giving high fives to all the children along the side of the road.  About half-way through the race, however, I realized that I would never finish if I continued doing that, so I resorted to waving and saying “Mwaramutse” (Good morning).

Kigali is extremely hilly.  Rwanda is known as the land of a thousand hills.  (It’s actually more like 100,000 hills, as there are hills everywhere one looks.)  On one of the heartbreak hills during the race, I was panting so heavily as I walked up the steep hill that a young Rwandan man, who appeared to be no more than 20 years old, asked me if I was okay.  I assured him that I was, but I don’t think he believed me because he walked beside me up the hill.  Once at the top, he sped off like the rabbit he was.  About 2 miles from the end of the race, I got the first shin splint of my life after running down a steep hill.  After about 15 minutes of walking it off, I felt fine again.

At various spots during the race, there were a few water stations where we could fill our water bottles.  One station even had plastic cups, which surprised me because Rwanda is in the forefront environmentally, even outlawing plastic bags.  When I mistakenly thought that I had only about 20 minutes left, I tossed the plastic water bottle I’d been carrying.  What a mistake – because I was unable to get a refill at the final water station as there was only a large decanter and no cups, so I cupped my hands and tried to drink from them.  About three-quarters through the race, we were given 2 fingerling bananas, which all the runners, including me, gobbled up.  At two spots during the race, we were given thick water-soaked sponges to squeeze on our heads to cool off.  I took advantage of the sponges and in fact cooled off, but in a few minutes the water had evaporated and my singlet was again dry.

Fellow runners and walkers gave encouragement to one another, saying “Komera!” (Kinyarwanda for “Be strong”) or “Couragé” (French for Courage).  I learned a new Kinyarwanda phrase when a fellow runner said, “Izuba ni gincye cyane,” meaning “The sun is way too hot.”  He was right, and there was very little shade.  I had forgotten to wear a hat, but fortunately did not get sun-burned.

The race was generally well organized with police or race staff at all intersections directing us where to go.  However, the organization fell apart at the end. After we entered the stadium grounds and ran to the actual stadium, no one was there to direct us into the stadium. I followed the runners in front of me, running past the correct stadium entrance and around to the farther side of the stadium.  After I entered the stadium on the wrong side, I didn’t see where the finish was. Yet, I was in an area where runners had already finished, were wearing their medals and were standing around chatting.  It seemed very anti-climactic.  So, I asked a medal wearer where she got her medal, and she told me she received it when she crossed the finish line. Then I asked where the finish line was, and she pointed towards the entrance to the stadium that I had run past.  Thus, I had to run back around to the first entrance, re-enter the stadium, cross the official finish line and obtain my medal.  I was happy just to have participated and finished.  Although there was music in the stadium, unless one was part of a team, there was nothing to do.  So, I exited the stadium and the adjacent grounds to find my friend, who was waiting near the street for me.

The race attracted participants from many countries.  I heard many languages being spoken.  The top 3 male marathoners were, not surprisingly, Kenyans, with the winner clocking in at 2 hours, 23 minutes and 42 seconds.  The top 3 females were 2 Kenyans and a Ugandan.  The top female’s time was 2 hours, 54 minutes and 1 second.  The top male half-marathoner was Rwandan, with a time of 1 hour and 16 minutes.  He was followed by 2 Kenyans.  The top female half-marathoner was Rwandan with a time of 1 hour, 28 minutes and 53 seconds.  She was followed by a Kenyan and another Rwandan.  I came in 886^th place out of 1,052 half-marathoners.  My time was 3 hours, 21 minutes and 36 seconds.  A disappointing time, but a super fun day.