Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

Today has been a day of two runs, a plough through Anna Karenina (lucky Anna) though still not to finish, and moving from group to group, chatting, in probably the most sociable day I’ve had here. We haven’t even just talked running, ranging from that to the EU, the metric system and the wisdom of throwing small children around.

Julia left this morning, and Chris and Rejean leave tomorrow evening, so my comfortable group will be no more for Saturday breakfast. Andreas has been joined by a couple of Danish friends who seem as down to earth as the other runners so I’ll not be short of company. Today we had a couple of other Brits join us, though just for the day: Charlotte is working for Oxfam in Addis and elsewhere, and her friend Liz is staying for the running and other experiences. A pity she’s not staying up here more, as she’s about my pace, though as she’s also running London we’ll see who takes bragging rights there.

As for the running, today was good. I was very tired in the morning, and not at all sure that 1m jog, 5m brisk and 1m jog was possible, but it was. I looped back on myself a few times to keep it relatively flat, and was rewarded with some 7.xx m/miles. 5 of them, in fact. After an afternoon of chatting and reading I slotted in my planned second run, and that felt good enough that I tried the 800m time trial afterwards, with a 3.15 not showing any improvement over the first one I did, but it was relatively easy and on top of a tough week. I suspect I would be better off had I started running twice a day last week, but I’m not entirely sure it was possible. Certainly I ought now to see if I can push the pace a bit, and it would be good mentally if that equated to quicker times next week, though it’s more important to keep the effort level up during what are probably my two biggest mileage weeks. Finish those in one piece and I really might be in good shape. Though everything is relative. I was in the gym stretching and doing some physio-prescribed one-legged hip bridges and feeling fairly fit when I realised that the Danish 10k champion next to me wasn’t just rolling his leg on the big inflatable ball, he was in fact doing the same exercise as me, only with the ball showing what control he had. Not a great description but trust me, pretty cool stuff.

Quote: (talking about suicide) “some people need to get a life”.

Summary: 57:44, 11.47k, 27:33, 5.30k.

West Shewa, Ethiopia

Today was the day. Camp minibus booked (stop it) and the three boys headed into the capital. Course, Chris worked there for 6 weeks, and Rejean used to head in once a week until the hecticness did for him, but for me this was a fairly big deal.

Plan was to have not too much of a plan and for me at least, to just enjoy being immersed in a big city. The bus stopped to pick up a couple of the Yaya girls, a group of 12 or so who are supported by the charitable bit of the camp, and they fed us pineapple until we were dropped off at the National Museum/ This, we assumed, was the big museum of Addis, but in reality it was four fairly small floors. They’ve majored on the big African boast, that it is the source of humanity, and the basement is full of fossils showing the development of humanity. Or some stones placed there by a prankster God, as Bill Hicks would put it to a Creationist. The artwork on the first floor was interesting, and then up top were some artifacts from tribal history. Interesting, but not quite the history of the nation we might have expected.

From there we wandered the streets looking for the Ethnological Museum and found a modern art gallery for a quick break. Flowers and that. Eventually we realised that the museum was inside the university campus, so we pretended to be students and walked in. Our cover lasted about three seconds, as the security guard asked what we were looking for, but “Ethnological museum” was the correct password and we were pointed on. The museum is based, as is a small library, in emperor Haile Selassie’s old palace. Billed by Chris’ guidebook as the greatest display in Africa we were slightly underwhelmed, though there was more of a national history here than at the National Museum. Highlights for me were the emperor and his wife’s bedrooms – lavish perhaps in 1960 but, to their credit not gilded or wildly decorated. On a pull out display were Ethiopian stamps and currency through the ages, including a set of four stamps of Gebreselassie, “World Athletics Superstar”. Quite.

We’d run before we went into town, so were all fairly tired and hungry by now, so hopped in a taxi to head to a restaurant Rejean knew. Most, if not all, taxis are old ladas, and on this one the steering was more a suggestion than an instruction, though we made it okay, via a mix of brand new roads and small dirt tracks. Just one crazy man waving his hands in the middle of the road, and that may be typical, too.

None of us knew what the menu meant, but we ordered and had a huge pile of food, all to be wrapped – by hand – in pieces of injera, or bready pancake, torn off a roll. It’s a very good communcal activity, as although we’d ordered individually, we received one large silver dish, with a base of injera, onto which each dish was divided in front of each of us. Apparently the done thing for proper friends is to feed each other, too, but we decided that we might have bonded but we’re not yet that close. One beer each and on to the next stop, described by Rejean as “a container with a door” that served the best coffee he’d ever had.

We found it, and his description was perfect – just a door in the street, and that door to a container that had been dropped there. Narrow, it had stools up each side, and we took our places. Rejean had also been promised some coffee beans would be waiting for him, but the owner wasn’t there and the friendly local who translated for us didn’t quite understand initially. For me, though, there was the more immediate question – here, in the home of coffee, does a non coffee drinker refuse to partake in the ceremony?

Of course not. I’m sure you can count my coffee experiences on one hand, maybe two if you add accidental coffee creams (that is not a euphemism) and, even more significantly, this may be the first time I’ve had a whole cup. Black coffee, no sugar, let’s do this properly. And I can see how you can learn to appreciate it but there’s no Addisian conversion to report – still no coffee for me, thanks.

Although there are buses, there aren’t that many, and public transport is mostly made up of minibuses that run different routes. We hopped in one to get to Piasa (sp?) for some shopping, and I can see why the minibuses are seen as crowded and hot. Also, cheap – I handed over a 10 birr note (28 birr/gbp) and got 6 and change back for a 20 minute ride. Piasa was a whirl of people, tiny stalls and tiny crammed shops. I was happy just wandering the streets and soaking up the atmosphere, walking off a hefty lunch, while Chris picked up a watch and Rejean an Ethiopian (running) vest. We’d talked about drinking but I can now spot a pro runner by the brain whirr that happens after one drink, along the lines of “hmm, got a session tomorrow” and with hard running at 7.30am in mind, we caught a taxi back in time for dinner and to say goodbye to Julia.

With Rejean and Chris leaving tomorrow it almost feels like my holiday should be ending too, seeing as I’ve eaten with them for most meals over the last couple of weeks, but the Danish group are friendly, and people are always coming and going. There’s an older English couple here, too, who seem friendly with the coaches but I’m sure they’re not runners. It may just be that Abdi (former 1500 world champ, it’s worth always pointing out) is so friendly that he takes everyone under his wing. It feels a much more chatty place than when I first arrived, and I guess that’s partly because there are most people here, but also that those who are here have got to know each other, and mostly team up at mealtimes. If I pick another book as long as Anna Karenina I might be glad of a couple of solo meals to make better progress, but otherwise I’ll pick a table once the native English speakers have gone.

Summary: 1:32:12, 16.22km. Museums 3, Taxis 2, Minibuses 1.

Chris and Rejean in front of the big church.

Look out, the birdhorsemanrats are coming.

Me, in front of the big church.

Rejean, Julia, Chris.

Addis Ababa.

Shopping.

The oldest child.

Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

That leads to, well, I don’t know where, exactly. That was today’s run. After my big fat run/walk/collapse on Saturday, I ended up having an unplanned rest day on Sunday so resolved to do something a bit tougher than a 5mile recovery run today.

I again set off into the hills on the far side of the road, which makes for a route that turns immediately uphill. Every night I wonder whether the following day is going to see me finally bash out some quick miles, and I’d been confident last night. In reality, the phrase that fits is “it doesn’t take much”, which is what we say in relation to hills slowing you down here, and sure enough I plodded up the hill, turned onto a dirt track and plodded up that, too.

Hitting the cobbled road to nowhere I was determined to turn right and stay on it, where last time I had turned off as soon as it swung downhill. The road itself is an oddity; cobbled, with attractive semi circles of cobbles radiating out, it must have taken hours and hours of labour, not to mention millions of small stones, yet is unused where I ran. It doesn’t seem to follow or join the main road, either, though perhaps that was its function, with the newer road a bigger engineering project. More research needed.

At any rate, I ran down the hill. And down, and down. After a mile I found the first building, but couldn’t tell what it was for. Another half mile and the vista opened up, with scenery dropping away to my right and kids playing football in the sun. Civilisation, with houses lining the road, some with the walls and gates that I think marks a family of substance. The road was dropping away even more steeply now and I figured that after an initial 10m/m then an 8 and low 7, it was time to take my punishment and run the near two miles directly uphill.

Need I say it was tough? A new personal all-run slowest mile, with the first being 12 minutes! Eventually I reached the top, back to where I joined the road and carried on, wondering whether the cobbles would join the main road. No, it seemed. I’d lost my bearings totally (nothing new there), but as cobbly road was still heading gently-praise be-up and the main road is down, I think it must be swinging round a mountain. Next run that way, I’ll find out. I’m not sure I’m brave enough to take on the long down, long up again, though a little voice inside wonders whether gunning it might net my fastest ever mile to go with the slowest.

Meanwhile the camp has calmed down after the usual rush over the weekend. Locals head here for lunch, and some for breakfast, which gives us the chance to see some less wiry and fit Ethiopians. Honorary Brit of the day went to the chunky father of two who I spotted finishing his second beer at 9.30. Guests come and go, and we now have a Danish Olympian. There was a Swiss family that Chris and I got to know, sadly on their last night. Turns out they were fit though not international runners, but both working for medecin sans frontieres, with Ethiopia just a convenient middle ground for them to meet up while one is working in Haiti and the other in Sudan. Even the non runners are impressive.

Phrase of the day: “he looked as fresh as a big glossy green Dutch cucumber”.

Summary: 1:18:57, 13.51km. Finished ‘Running with the Kenyans’.

West Shewa, Ethiopia

Running, eh, bloody hell?! Just as I thought I was getting to grips with this altitude lark, along comes the long run. I thought I could slow down and do the miles. I had ‘running to time’ rather than distance as a backup. And so I set off. In fact I delayed setting off. At 7 I could see the weather was overcast, and figured on it staying that way like yesterday, then at 9 I noticed the wifi (the only thing here that is a little expensive, and I’m sure just having it is a luxury, so that’s not a complaint) was on free vend, so I took the chance to check email and the like.

I eventually got going just before 10 and headed for the satellite field. It’s two miles away, from 3-5 miles round depending on what you do so seemed a reasonable bet for some laps without too much thought about route. I saw Chris coming back the other way, so at least he could be reassured I wasn’t dead, after I spent yesterday afternoon watching films, ended up going to dinner late and missing everyone. I dropped my water bottle and solitary gel by a fence after 2 miles or so and set out on a loop. First loop, fine, stopped for water after 6 miles. On the second loop I headed out of the field, so as to avoid having to do 4 lots of 3-4 mile laps. At the end of a track through fields was a group of workers who stopped what they were doing to cheer me on and then (I think) made the signal for “we’re going to eat; join us?” when they spotted me turning back the way I came. It probably barely needs pointing out, but people out working in a field on Saturday have nothing, but the generosity of spirit is phenomenal. Coming back along the field I was into a headwind and started to slow down.

Mentally I was in a reasonable state, not checking the watch other than when the miles bleeped, but it was getting tougher through 9 and 10 miles. I wanted to get back to the water at 2 hours, so when I got there at 1:51, had to head into the cattle field and back to make up time. Stopping – coming to a standstill for several minutes – for water was necessary, but possibly not a great idea. After two hours of slog, to get going again I needed a mental shove. I managed it, but was now for the first time going over 10 m/m. The miles ticked painfully past, and I left the field with 16 miles on the clock. I made it to 17 but then, without consciously thinking about it, started walking. Almost an out of body experience, as I looked down to see my legs walking, my brain worked out what was going on and figured “yep, fair enough, that is about the same pace”. I’ve wanted to walk before when running, but rarely felt like I really needed to. After 5 minutes I broke into a jog, but this was much slower than a walk. At least a normal walk – by now my hamstrings and back-of-knees were hurting, I moved into to an even slower walk than before, and I was in as much pain moving as I can remember. Just like a marathon going wrong, in fact, and I certainly remember a couple of those. If I’m allowed to start the excuses now, yesterday I had slight stomach cramps and during the run I noticed my swallowing was a bit noisy, as if I had a sore throat. We’ll see tomorrow if that comes to anything, or whether it just points to a little dehydration.

The stroll back to YaYa was painful and slow, and I stopped once on the track for a sit down. Once onto the road the gatehouse is in sight, but I again had to stop, though was at least distracted by a local grinning, asking where I was from and almost cheering when he heard England – “Britannia!?” Just wonderful. I managed to get up after he’d caught his minibus and crossed the road, but again flaked out 100m from the gate! After that rest I limped to my room, ignoring the Brit/Canuck axis who were having lunch, in favour of a low pressure shower and some compression tights. That was, once I’d got in. My card key refused to work-some kind of AI deciding this was a runner’s room and I no longer qualified. I wandered to reception but couldn’t stand there waiting and had to slump in a sofa! By the time I got to lunch I felt better and was seeing the funny side. Distracted by talk of military exploits I even cheered up a bit and when we did talk running, Rejean was kind enough to talk about his bad long run two weeks ago which was similar. At least in the “I can’t do this” feeling, I’m sure his slow struggling run is still 7m/m, given that a good one is under 6.

Summary: 3:09:51, 29.59km. Slowest runs ever: 1. Friendly Ethiopians: Legion. Books: none, piling through Anna Karenina and may be gone some time. Shoes: very muddy after lots of rain last night. Head: slightly red from exposure.

Phrase of the day: “old, purplish, stringy cocks were all they had for roasting and boiling”.

Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

A cloudy day, with an early storm and a rest from exercise. I still had a sunny breakfast, and a conversation about running, so duty done. Chris and I managed to have a conversation without any generation gaps. We have had plenty. Talking about what was on the kindle a Philip J. Dick novel: the inspiration for several films, including Bladerunner. Chris only knows the word in conjunction with Pistorius. An advert for a film comes on, we’re both watching – oh yes, it’s Total Recall. Chris has never seen it, but then I’m not quite sure he was born then, being only 24. Talking about maths education last night I had (I’m not sure why) to admit that although I took maths GCSE, it was the very first year possible. But if this is my midlife crisis, then getting used to comparing university experiences when one person is thinking of last month and I’m going back 20 years is quite therapeutic.

Phrase of the day: “ice-devouring sex tornado”.

West Shewa, Ethiopia

In a nutshell, that sums up today. I headed for a new area, left out of camp, across the road and straight up the hill. I could see other runners in a field to my left, so avoided them, not needing the humbling experience of being left behind that was more or less guaranteed. After a slowing climb – my typical pace uphill here seems to be around 10m/m – I hit a cobbled road that was only slightly uphill, and at least looked like I was keeping it together when three African runners came past the other way, with the usual encouragements. At a fork I chose the track going up rather than the road going down, and climbed and climbed. I’m not sure I hit the very top, but the sense of stillness and total quiet in the forest was quite something. Really it deserves a long walk up there to enjoy it properly, which I might pencil in for Friday, assuming Chris’ desire to have a night out in Addis on a ‘session’ day (so as to be tired on the day after a session, not when it was due) hasn’t happened on Thursday. I’m not sure that I would have believed you had you told me that I would be using the phrase “session” only to do with running, with a straight face. I’m not sure what we’ll call a drinking night instead – an aberration, perhaps.

I managed to get nicely lost in the trees, and as I walked up hill, beating my way through the trees (okay, pushing through – it was a goat track, so passable, but with trees hanging over at goat height) I spotted an animal scooting through the undergrowth up ahead. We joke about hyenas, and I just hoped i wasn’t about to have to joke with one, in the hope that its laughter would distract it for long enough for me to escape. Nothing came of it, though, and I let the GPS point me home. 2.75km that way, though it took a good 5km to navigate round various small ravines (some, admittedly, only really deserving of the word ‘ravine’ if you’re a lego person, but it’s the word I’ve got in my head now), eventually finding a stony track to head down to road level, completing the run with a jaunt through a local high street, surrounded by Ethiopians. These are people who live opposite the camp, so are not exactly startled by a white runner appearing amongst them, but I still had a small boy join me for 100m, and a couple of waves.

Got back about 10, and joined Julia for breakfast. Three meals are included, along with water, and fresh juice, so far either mango or papaya, in the morning. The choice is mostly egg-based at breakfast, then for lunch and dinner there’s soup to start, and anything from pasta to curry, grilled fish, chicken and pizza. The latter is cooked in a separate brick oven, outside the main building. The place is in a continual state of flux, and this week they’ve erected a shelter outside the pizza place where before there was just a patio. One of the gardens has been dug up, I’m still not sure why, and another stretch of dirt has been seeded ready to add to the swathes of greenery at which we can eat.

All that remains after an early workout is a shower, not normally the cause of any controversy, but there’s a member of staff who now can’t look me in the eye after seeing a…well, add your own description there. I was in the shower, heard my room door close softly and figured someone had entered, heard the shower and left. Oh no she hadn’t, and got more than she’d bargained for through the open bathroom door.

Her English isn’t great, but I think she understood the “no problem!” I gave her later when fully clothed. As I write it’s 4.30, so it’s raining, but I’m only due for a gym session later so am not sitting here wondering when is a good time to get out, unlike the last couple of days.

Summary: 1:22:14, 12.9km, climb: big(gish). Staff scared: 1, Book: You did what? Fawcett.

On the roof, looking towards today’s hill.

From the roof.

Roof, accommodation, line of trees then mountains in the background.