Marathon de la Paix

This morning was the Marathon de la Paix here in Bujumbura, a marathon to celebrate the recent peace agreement here in this country. Dignitaries from all over Africa were on hand, including notables from Rwanda, Uganda, and Tanzania. There were armed guards everywhere, well within the hundreds in and around the stadium where the race was to start and finish. We heard that the final peace talks have been going well and are close to being finalized with one remaining faction, which would end over 15 years of civil unrest here in this small eastern African country. For me, the marathon was to be a culmination of almost five months of training and also a way to represent Gilbert in his home country. I was the only American at the start line, although there were some French and other Europeans with their short shorts and funny accents. Most of them were running the half, some competitively and some just for fun.

The race was to start at 8 a.m., which is towards the latter for starting times you would find in races in the U.S. Here, the sun rises about 5:30, and by 6:30 temperatures are already well into the 70s. The weather is pretty much identical every day. Mid to low 60s when it’s dark, and low to mid 80s when the sun is out. Today was the exception, however, as by 8 the heat was already soaring into the low 90s. With no breeze, it was scorching. And then we sat at the starting line, and baked. For over 90 minutes we waited as different government vehicles drove through and into the stadium. Most crowded around in anticipation of the president’s arrival, while I found shade under a tree off the side of the road and tried to avoid the heat. Finally, after multiple presidents entered into the stadium to make their arrival and their speeches, we were called to the start line. At about 9:30 we were off, 3,000 strong running down one of the main roads in Bujumbura, past the president’s home and onto the highway for a couple miles. As we wove in and around town, we passed hoards of locals that gathered the streets and were yelling “Mizungu” and “Whitey” as I trotted by. One of Gilbert’s family members found us a bike to borrow, so Travis was riding alongside of me, taking pictures and carrying a camelpak. He was able to capture some amazing still photos and a few videos, which we will share upon return to the States.

But as I ran through the streets, hitting between 6:30 and 6:45 for my first seven miles, I felt the heat taking its toll on my body. Nothing like the long runs we did on Saturday mornings in Gilbert’s group, as we would do anywhere between 18 to 24 at a fairly steady pace and hardly even tire. This you could feel. The heat of the pavement burning through my shoes. The sun beating down off the streets of asphalt and sucking the fluids out of our bodies. It wasn’t even five miles into the race when we saw the first casualty. A runner collapsed on the side of the road, sprawled across the street as people rushed over to see what had happened. It was reminiscent of when I ran Chicago back in the fall of ’07, except it didn’t turn into a war zone until around mile 16 or 17. That day the heat was in the low 80’s with humidity soaring – quite the opposite of ideal conditions. But today felt like a mid-afternoon in August in Austin, Texas, as it is almost always humid in this city but rarely so hot. Around mile 7.5 I told Travis we were probably going to cut the marathon and go for the half. At the beginning of race I told him this was the craziest thing I had ever done. That quickly turned into the race becoming potentially one of the dumbest things I could ever do. So at mile 8.5 with my watch reading 47 minutes I stopped, marking the first race I have ever dropped of. Disappointed, no doubt, but I had no desire of feeling the effects of attempting a sub-3 hour marathon in these conditions. We still have a week here left in Burundi, and next week is going to be a lot of manual labor and working in the upcountry. I’m no good for that if I can’t walk. Tonight we are attending a celebration for the race put on by the local brewery, where there are supposed to be many dignitaries, including the Minister of Sports for Burundi and many other race officials. It will be a great time to talk about Gilbert, talk about the country, and see what role we might be able to play in the area of sports and recreation.

For now, we are enjoying some of the local fish and pineapple juice. In Kirundi it’s called ananas, and it is absolutely amazing! Shortly we are meeting up with our friend Simon to head out to the Bujumbura beach, as it is another opportunity to spend some time with him and learn more about what he and his family are doing here in this country.

To God be the glory for bringing peace to this country after so many years of war and so many deaths. Today was a celebration of that, and although selfishly my race didn’t go as planned, thousands of people came out from all across Africa to join in on the movement here in Burundi both as runners and as spectators. There are so many who want the country to return to what it once was, and this morning we got to witness what it looks like to have thousands cheering and smiling and enjoying the festivities. We have met quite a few people here who love Jesus and give Him praise, but there is still much to be done and a long road ahead to finish the work He has started. We’re grateful that God has called us to be at least a small part of that, and are excited to see what is in store for the coming week.