18th
21km ‘Every One’ Race in Awassa - Sunday 2nd May 2010
Finding a room wasn’t easy in Awassa on the weekend of Haile Gebreselassie’s ‘Every One’ race. The small, hidden hotel I’d been counting on was already full, (obviously not so hidden), as was most other places. After lugging ourselves up and down the straight, palm tree boulevards of central town in the humid mid-day sun we spied the amusingly titled ‘Rohobot Hotel’. I know it’s a bible reference but I always snigger. Imagine – a robot hotel in Ethiopia, etc. But this hotel was anything but advanced: no electricity, no water, not even the usual basket for used toilet paper (down the toilet is forbidden in Ethiopia). But it was clean, new (but already old), and had good views over the main road. The bed was decent but hard – important for a good night’s sleep before the next day’s half-marathon.
Me and Frits - Tactics and stomach updates before the race
Relieved to have a bed for the night, we spent the rest of the day zipping about the town on bajaj’s (an Ethiopian tuk tuk) and decided to check out Haile’s new ‘resort’, from where the race would start and finish the next day. With its own section of prime lakeside land and 10 minutes on a bajaj out of town, it’s definitely reaching out to customers with more in their pockets- dollars, pounds and euros as well as birr. Lined with sun beds, the outdoor pool looks over the lake and has a gym, sauna, steam room and Jacuzzi just behind. I noted these luxuries thinking they would be ideal for my beaten body after the race. Fat chance, I thought. We’d have to settle for a snooze on our rock-hard beds and a shower if we were lucky. However, Haile’s hotel is no stunner – square concrete blocks painted in pale orange with the usual lack of character – and workmanship – that you find all over the country. A bit harsh but I hate to see opportunities missed.
Haile Gebreselassie
Throughout the day Frits’ insides were becoming increasingly disgruntled. It wasn’t looking good. When I knocked on his door in the morning he showed me a protruding cut-off metal pipe in the middle of his room, which he’d kicked in the night during one of the many trips to the bathroom. He wasn’t on form, but he said he’d race. Apart from getting up ridiculously early for the 6:30am start, I felt good. At the hotel there weren’t the thousands of people I’d seen at the Great Ethiopian Run in Addis Ababa, in fact there were probably only about 100 for the 21km race, and most were foreigners. Suddenly we were rushing to the start line to join the small group of runners and we nearly missed the starting gun. Me and Frits started slow, hanging back while more seasoned runners stretched out ahead. (NB: I should add that there was a seperate race for the elite runners). The air was heavy with moisture and as we turned towards the lake and followed its reedy banks, it felt a lot different from the clear, cool mornings in the 2000m hills of Nekemte. Gigantic Marabou Storks soared in slow motion from the lake like modern-day pterodactyls to join others sitting conspicuously in the tops of trees. Young men and boys washed naked at the edge of the lake, waving and shouting as we ran past. Eventually we peeled away from the Rift Valley lake and headed into the centre of town where locals were starting to gather along the roads to watch, shout, and sing. One group of school kids sang ‘Happy Birthday’ as we passed.
Me and Martha with Tirunesh Debaba, the current 5000m and 10000m Olympic Champion
The first lap (of three) seemed endless and we missed the water point at the end of it, meaning we had to do another whole lap before getting any water. However I was feeling strong and quietly confident as me and Frits started to move up the field, passing other runners. Frits’ rough night of stomach gripes and bruised feet began to take its toll. At the water point at the start of the final lap he stopped to drink some water – and I too, reluctantly. People we’d spent a long time overtaking suddenly whizzed past and with each passing second I became eager to get running again. I was relieved when Frits waved me on ahead and I didn’t have to make the decision myself. I soon caught the other runners again and, although my feet and knees were starting to leak pain, I had the energy to push on up the field again. Passing people I’d singled out before the race as experienced runners gave me extra kicks but the long, straight Awassa roads stretched never-ending to the horizon and the last lap seemed infinitely longer than the previous two. As I turned into the cobbled run-up to Haile’s hotel, my legs were barely clearing the ground but when two guys sprinted past me I mustered a respectable finish. The two Ethiopians caught each other’s heels and one of them stumbled forward and went head-over-heels just metres from the finish. I helped him up and we crossed the line together. Without even thinking about my placing or time, I suddenly realised I had to get to a toilet as soon as possible as something very ugly was happening inside. I limped into Haile’s five-star hotel and panicked when none of the toilets had any bog paper. I shouted in Amharic and English at the nearest staff member who took a ridiculous amount of time to understand. Really, $99-a-night?
Just finished
Haile made up for his below-par resort by hanging about near the finish line, happily greeting runners and having his photo taken. Me and Martha snagged one and then another with Tirunesh Debaba (aka ‘The Baby-Faced Destroyer’), the current 5000m and 10000m Olympic champion. Frits finished with a smile on his face and we headed for the pool-side sun beds to wait for Martha as she walked, ice-creamed and coffeed the 7km race with a group of US Peacecorps volunteers. As we lowered our defeated limbs into the pool, a hotel staff member asked us our room number. Frits mumbled ‘3300’ after seeing a list of 4-digit numbers on the man’s clipboard. ‘Good’, he said, ‘please help yourself to towels and enjoy’. So we did, and I also found the Jacuzzi, which eased the pains in my legs and feet. I’d never imagined I’d be able to lounge about in such luxury. For that I thank Haile’s less-than-competent staff.
Me and Frits. Shattered.
From talking to other runners I calculated that I must have finished soon after the 19th runner, who finished in 1hr 51minutes and I definitely got in under 2hrs. Even though the Elite winner, Wilson Chebet from Kenya, finished depressingly in 1hr 3 minutes, I was really happy with my run. I definitely want to do more in the future. One thing is worrying though - my knees are still hurting from the race and I haven’t been able to run since. Somehow, I can’t imagine enjoying the pavements of England on a dark, bitter morning as much as the red dust country lanes here.
