After I’d had breakfast, and today’s Malarone tablet, I sprayed a little DEET on some of my running clothes in the hope that it’d discourage mosquitoes from biting me. Mosquitoes are attracted to heat, body odour, movement, and CO2; all of which are a common part of running a marathon, and things I couldn’t really do anything about. The only reason DEET works as a deterrent because it poisons them - science has proven that you can't hide the odour of humans from them, no matter how much you clean yourself either. Mosquitoes are always thousands of steps ahead of us.
The mandatory kit list for today was as simple as:
- Ability to carry 1L of water,
- Whistle,
- Emergency foil blanket.
I also had a disposable poncho stored in my bag, with the hope I wouldn't need to use it. I'd considered taking sunscreen and DEET but was told we'd be able to top up on them at the checkpoints.
I knew this course was going to be hilly with it being the same as climbing up Ben Nevis one and a half times, or about the same as climbing Mount Tongariro in New Zealand. Both of which I've done before. The views, and the experience would be worth it though. to be ready for today, I'd trained for Manchester marathon, which had turned out to be an extremely warm race, and had just kept the mileage going between then and now. I'd perhaps not done quite as much hill work as I should have.
Just before 10:00 I headed down to reception to wait for the others. It was then a thirty minute drive to where we would be starting this event, close to the cemetery of Musanze; at least that wasn’t where we were finishing! We were a reasonable distance from the main road here.
Nick gave us a race briefing, warning that the course and the heat was brutal, but the views are stunning. He also advised everyone to run with someone else, carry plenty of water, and not do the full marathon. We would need to all start together too, so those that had hoped to start early were out of luck. It was already about 25°C, and 70% humidity, and we were a few hours away from the hottest part of the day.
I told myself I’d just see how things went. I didn’t have the GPX file for the half marathon route on me though, so I might struggle. I figured I’d just take it easy as planned, and would stick to the shade wherever possible. At every checkpoint I reached, I could make a decision: carry on, or finish and stay with the checkpoint vehicle? If it was the place the route splits, half or full?
I knew Andy and Anna would run together, and Kate and Mel would too. During the week I’d tried to gauge what sort of pace everyone was, but couldn’t really be sure. I felt Stuart, Scott, and Dana were fast, and at least two of them had mentioned doing the full marathon, so maybe if I stuck somewhere around them it’d all be okay. Stuart had mentioned a dodgy stomach though so would likely either be motivated to move quickly, or could be slower. There’s the old saying of going alone if you want to be quick, or going together if you want to go far. This was a bit of both really.
At the start line I stayed at the back, thinking that to ensure I didn’t overdo it I would stay there for the first 5K, and would be able to help if anyone struggled. When we set off, the RWCA group doing the 10K stormed off ahead, grouped as if they were marching, and were taking the hills as if they were nothing. My legs wanted to go after them, but my brain was holding my pace as intended, around 2 minutes per mile slower than what I’d do an easy paced run at.
My pace did creep up a little though after several minutes, and by the time I reached the first corner, most of the people I’d gotten to know over the last week were about 300 metres behind me, having not long overtaken Dana who had been leading the pack to start with. Sometimes pace gets away from you at the start of a run as you get a bit too overexcited, but I’d be walking the hills soon enough anyway so I wouldn't get too far ahead.
After a bridge crossing over the Mukungwa river, the route then follows the valley from the other side, and I couldn’t help but stop for photos. I must have done so at least half a dozen times before I reached the first checkpoint. Keeping in mind what Nick B had said, I kept checking behind me to make sure Dana was doing okay. Everyone else was further back somewhere, so for now keeping at least one person in sight was my way of sticking to the advice.
When I got into checkpoint 1 I felt good, no issues, temperature wise I was doing okay, and felt like doing the half marathon probably wouldn’t be too much of an issue. I was quick getting in and out of checkpoint 1, just having a cup of water. Just before I rounded the next corner I saw Dana heading in to the checkpoint, so far so good. I did realise though that if she wasn’t quick through the checkpoint I wouldn’t be able to keep anyone in sight for much longer.
When I next saw a familiar face, it was the two videographers who’d been left behind in a village after the mini bus couldn’t go any further. I didn’t realise at that point that Matt and Lynsey had continued on to checkpoint 2 on foot, so would be seeing them soon enough as well.
At a fork in the road I didn’t see a red ribbon, but a friendly policeman pointed the way down a hill with his gun. The red ribbons were used to mark the correct route, and the blue ribbons marked the incorrect route. Shortly after that I could see Matt and Lynsey, though she was now starting to break away from him as she started running.
When I caught up with Matt we walked and talked for a while, and I took it easy when I got going again, until I caught up with Lynsey. I stopped so she could take a selfie of us, then I got going again. If the entire course was like this I’d be happy. The hills weren’t too bad, the weather was nice, the scenery was amazing, and friendly faces along the long way. I couldn’t ask for more!
As I left Lynsey behind I could see across a small part of Lake Ruhondo, back towards where I’d come from, and wondered if I’d be able to spot any runners. It was of course too far, even just looking back towards the mouth of the Mukungwa river. One more bend later and I could see just how expansive the lake was.
As I got closer to checkpoint 2, things suddenly changed. I was now running with some local runners, but neither of them had bibs. They told me that they’d missed the start of the race due to a timing issue, but were running anyway. When I reached the first difficult hill, they were very encouraging, and me thinking of the difficult cliff parts of GU36 was another way I pushed myself to keep going. I wasn’t running up this hill of course - it was far too steep, but as long as I kept moving I’d be happy. It was amazing how quickly I was getting out of breath though and it wasn’t too long before I had to stop. When I got going again, this time an old man brandishing a machete was matching my pace, and following my steps up the hill. When I stopped and stood to the side, he did the same thing.
When I reached the ‘top’ of the hill at a switchback, there were a couple of policemen there, the machete guy at that point turned around and went back down the hill. I had no explanation for what he might have been thinking. He probably wondered what was going on.
After the switchback the climb got easier, and after it levelled off I overtook the pair of local runners. They overtook me again on the next hill, but after that I overtook them on the downhill towards checkpoint 2 - which would be their finish for the 10K. I didn’t want to finish before them, so I stopped short of the finish line in Ruhondo, turned, and cheered them on until they crossed the finish line. I then crossed it myself, congratulating them, and then with directions from Bea, made my way over to the building to get another cup of water.
It was shocking how much of the first 10K was up-hill, but I knew there’d be more to come. Once out of the checkpoint the two locals got running again with me for a while, but at some point I lost them. I think it was around the time I stopped to take a photograph of a large church (which might actually have been a Kingdom Hall). It really didn’t seem that long at all before I reached checkpoint 3 at around 8.6 miles. As I approached this one I knew my water bladder would be running low so I was removing my backpack, and opening it up as I arrived. They helped me to fill it, and I had a handful of crisps before asking them which way to go for the full marathon. I think by asking that question without hesitation, I knew what my goal was.
She pointed me towards the right hand fork, so I headed that way still scoffing crisps. I saw a couple of people putting up a sign saying 42km. Relaxed now, I was amazed at where I was running. I could see for miles, with so many green hills all around. I was certainly very lucky to be here, doing this.
I saw a teenager pass me around mile 9, holding one of the red ribbons that had been used to mark the route. When I got to a fork in the road I could see where it had been taken from so I messaged the group to let them know. Fortunately there was still the blue ribbon on the other route, so it was still clear which way to go. If I'd thought about it, I could have dropped a pin for the exact location instead.
On a short downhill segment after that I decided it’d be a good idea to record some video of running the route. I did wonder though if I could hold my phone steady enough running downhill on terrain like this. Was worth a try though. So far it was fun, and I wanted to record the memories of that.
I then got to what I think was the worst of hills, somewhere around mile 11. Not only was it steep, it felt like it was lasting forever. A local adult with his two children was waiting for me to go up first, but I ushered them ahead. When they refused I started my way up, but after I stopped for the first time they were okay with overtaking me then. After that I spoke with him for a while, explaining what I was doing, and the route I was running. I think I stopped two more times before the top, but once I hit the road I got running again until I reached checkpoint 4. That was certainly the most horrendous hill of the course, but there was a strange feeling of déjà vu about it, as if there was some hill I’ve been up before that reminded me of it. My best guess was that it must have been reminding me of a hill in Nepal.
As I passed the vehicle I asked if it was the checkpoint, they opened it up so I could have a cup of water, and some more crisps. Salt was exactly what I needed. Whilst I’d got Tailwind in my flipbelt, I’d already used more than half of it - I wasn’t sure it contained any salts either though.
Okay, it’s downhill from here I thought to myself. I figured it’d be a series of rolling hills with a net downhill result to the end of the peninsula. It’d be the return journey that would be a pain, and would likely be incredibly slow.
Over the next few miles I spent a lot of time looking at the view, and taking more photographs. I figured by now anyone else doing the marathon would overtake me at any minute as I edged closer to the halfway point. It was actually hard to believe I wasn’t further into the run to be honest, but things were still going pretty well. For a lot of what was left, it felt like the sun was mostly hiding behind clouds.
When running through villages I’d call out “muraho” (hello) to any locals I passed, and would wave whenever I could. Sometimes my running past would be met with cries of “money! Give me money!” from children. It was probably the phrase I heard the most on this run. Much later on in the run, I did have some try to talk to me in French, but whilst I do speak basic French, but that point I didn't really want to attempt a conversation in it.
When running through one village I could see a black 4x4 ahead, stopped in the road. When I approached it I asked if it was checkpoint 5, and they confirmed it was. I confirmed my race number, and when asked if I wanted anything I decided to just have a banana this time. As I was sorting out water they asked why someone had turned around. I looked up and could see Dana walking down the hill in front of me.
“I’ll find out if she’s okay,” I told them, and left the checkpoint behind. I started to wonder, had I missed her overtake me? Or had she taken a wrong turn and had found herself here instead? I wondered what was up though. She told me she’d decided to do the half instead, but had been sent the wrong way at one point and was now having to backtrack.
I carried on walking up the hill after that, and then got running again when it levelled off. The constant ups and downs on the peninsula were starting to wear me down, and I’d concentrated more when crossing the wooden bridges. There were long periods when it felt like there was no shade either. At one point I stopped to ask one of the locals carrying a bundle of grass on their head if I could take a picture, waving my phone in the air. They agreed, but then when I went to take a photo they quickly hid their face, so I think they misunderstood what I meant.
I saw in the group chat that several of the group were all running together, and were past the split point for the half marathon. A few minutes later, Nick B messaged the group with checkpoint statuses, and could see that checkpoint 5 was currently only the police, with Harry enroute. About twenty minutes later the update was that Kate and Mel were doing the full marathon, and were at 15.5km. I was around 16 miles at that point, and the peninsula seemed never-ending. Unexpectedly I saw a couple of tourists walking along this path, I think they'd come from one of the buildings further along the peninsula.
The black 4x4 that had been at checkpoint 5 then caught me up, and overtook me whilst I was walking uphill. I stopped to talk to them, and they had a selfie with me before carrying on. When I next saw them, they were at checkpoint 6, ready to fire their water pistol at me some more. It was certainly a way to keep cool! I don’t think they were parked up on the corner that the map said they would be though - it seemed to be the next one along. I stopped to take a picture first since I knew all this would soon be behind me.
I continued following directions from my watch, and the red ribbons. I ran past a paved driveway, and an entrance guarded by police, and followed the road downhill until the road ran out and I was running on grass. My watch suddenly stopped telling me to go forwards and wanted me to turn around. I did so, and started to walk back up the hill. At this point the vehicle from Checkpoint 6 turned up and told me I’d finished.
“Finished? I thought I’ve got time to do the marathon?”
“No, finished”
It took some back and forth before I started to think that they were telling me I’d gone the wrong way when they started pointing back up the hill. At least, that’s what I wanted to believe. I knew I’d got hours until the cut-off time. I loaded the map on Garmin Explore and headed back to where it said the turnaround point should have been, I couldn’t see anything, just that paved driveway. The GPS signal here wasn’t great though as Garmin Explore couldn’t make its mind up of where I was either.
The GPX file was suggesting there should be a trail somewhere off the main road that would loop back along a trail that ran parallel to the road, and would rejoin the road proper around mile 17.3 - where the checkpoint 6 was supposed to be. I couldn’t find anything though, so I messaged the group chat with photos of what I could see, hoping that Harry or Nick could reply with where I needed to go.
Harry tried to call me, but the signal wasn’t good enough at that point for me to talk. He left me a very useful voice message that confirmed I’d reached the end of the peninsular and told me it was actually as simple as turning around and going back up the hill to the checkpoint. He’d now be at checkpoint 5/7 waiting.
After just over a mile from checkpoint 6, Maria passed me in the opposite direction and asked how far was left. It meant she was only two miles or so behind, so I’d likely have someone to run with before I knew it. It’d been a rough calculation on distance though, as I’d realised I’d done an extra half mile or so whilst messing around at the turnaround point. A local runner then ran past, saying he was number 11, whilst pointing at my number.
I think over the next couple of miles I ran very little, and when I did I could feel the muscles just below my waist were feeling tight. I decided not to overdo it for the return journey and to just take it easy. At one point I sat on a wall to recover, stretched a little after, and then got going again, head down, and just making sure I kept moving.
Harry called to see where I was, and I had to guess. He let me know that I was almost at his checkpoint so I kept on going, and even ran a couple of downhill bits. Garmin Explore suggested I’d got 5km to go, but I was starting to doubt its accuracy. Then I realised that most of the time it wasn’t actually updating my location. At least my watch was telling me where to go, and I was backtracking along ribbons too, so all was good.
I didn’t realise this for a while, but because Garmin Explore wasn’t showing me where the checkpoints were, I was assuming I’d clearly see them. Whether I’d got my head down at the time, blindly following instructions, or whether I was distracted by my phone at the time, I don’t know. Somehow I’d missed checkpoint 7 but didn’t know this until I reached checkpoint 8. Looking back, I think Footpath would have been the better application for me to use. Where that checkpoint would have been, I do remember it being quite busy at the time I passed that turning.
I’m not going to finish this. I’m going too slow. Harry’s going to pull me from the race at the checkpoint. I thought. He’d designed one amazing route though - I’d have to remember to thank him for that. My energy levels seemed okay, it was just the tops of my legs now. I knew if I went too fast they’d get worse and then I wouldn’t finish at all. At least my calves weren’t cramping.
The route between those checkpoints wasn’t particularly difficult, or that different to what I’d already seen, so for the most part I wasn't taking photos now. I just wanted to reach the checkpoint as soon as I could, to make sure I could finish the marathon now I’d gotten this far. My focus was on keeping moving, I'd not even thought to say "muraho" to people on passing like I had done earlier.
When I saw Nick B at the checkpoint I’d assumed it was Harry’s checkpoint, and that he’d moved on to the finish. That wasn’t the case though. Apparently I was doing really well, even though it didn’t feel like I was. I refilled my water bladder for this final stretch, had a few more crisps, and spread my arms as I was shot with a water pistol multiple times.
I spoke with Nick B a little more, and he confirmed I’d still got time to finish and could keep on running. Kate and Mel had left the checkpoint just ahead of me, so I’d assumed they’d gotten to checkpoint 5 and had been sent to checkpoint 8 so they could run to the finish instead. I knew they’d been in dire need of sunscreen earlier - something I’d been a bit lax with myself. I’d got about 2 miles left to go, and was told that not only had I not been timed out, I was going to make it to the finish before sunset.
My legs felt fine now, and the news of how little there was left to do filled me with energy so that I ran out of the checkpoint, bounding from rock to rock as I descended down the hill. When Sami talked to me as I passed, I stopped to talk to him, and chatted about the route and the people I’d come across along the way before I then continued on. Nick was about to continue running as well, just as I was catching up with Kate and Mel.
They let me pass, but I let them catch up again when I needed directions from Nick. There were a few buildings at the end of the trail, and then what I thought was a hairpin bend that led around and down. One of the local children told me “no” and that I was going the wrong way. Every other possible option had a blue ribbon though, so I was confused. Nick confirmed I was going the right way though, and gave me the heads up that I’d be going to the left of the lake, so could bear that in mind for the route ahead. I thanked him, and ran ahead.
Some of the descent after that was quite technical, such as a very uneven section between two walls that led to a bit that was a bit of a drop. I used both hands for that bit to make sure I didn’t slip. I got down to the level of the lake and started taking yet more photographs as the landscape changed into farmland.
There were small wooden bridges for crossing some of the irrigation channels, but on one where there wasn’t I decided to jump the gap instead to avoid my feet getting wet. There was a sudden pain in my calves as they cramped mid-air. As I landed they somehow released, and I was able to carry on running. With only a mile left to go, that was lucky.
On the other side of the fields I could see a red ribbon in a tree, and combined with the direction shown by my watch it seemed to suggest going up an incredibly steep path that seemed to be nothing more than a channel etched from rainwater over the years. Surely not?
As I started to climb it I had my doubts, it just didn’t seem right. So I decided to partially climb back down, and to wait for Nick to catch-up. When he was within shouting distance I asked if I was going the right way, he wasn’t sure to start with, so ran over, and upon closer inspection confirmed I was going the right way!
There was so much more climbing left to do after that. Just before mile 26 I wasn’t completely sure which path to take as the arrow on my watch wasn’t completely obvious this time. I could take the right-hand one up-hill, or take the left one which levelled off a little. I took the left hand fork, and after about 0.1 miles found the arrow wasn’t pointing to my right, with no way for me to get there. Okay, I’d made a mistake then. I turned around and ran back in the opposite direction, and walked up the hill.
There were messages in the group chat to say the final finishers would be along soon, and to gather at the finish to cheer us in. It felt like I was taking forever to get there though, and was convinced they’d get bored and give up long before I got there.
People in the village watched me with curiosity as I walked through. After a while I could see long buildings; I wondered if that was one of the buildings I’d passed in Ruhondo earlier. I wasn’t expecting my watch to tell me to turn right, so was really unsure where I was or how far was left to go. It made sense though, as remembering how the route looked, I knew I’d be approaching the finish line from the opposite direction. At the final turn, a policeman pointed me in the direction to go. Surely the end must be close now.
I could see Ruhondo ahead of me. There were parked vehicles on the road, but I knew somewhere beyond them was the finish line. I ran past them, dodging the open doors, and then started to sprint as I crossed the finish line. I’d done it. I’d actually finished the marathon with some daylight left too. I’d finished in about 6hr23, which considering I’d managed 27.5 miles due to a couple of mistakes, wasn’t too bad. I was then given a finishers medal, and was ready to eat something. I didn’t get far though.
Unfortunately, the videographers hadn’t caught the finish on camera and asked me to do it again. I took the medal off, walked back far enough to get up to some sort of sprinting speed again, and then just as I started to move my left leg cramped up, and I dropped to the ground, grazing my hand on the way.
The medic rushed over to me, and I think a few people thought there was something really wrong, but I was quick to explain it was cramp, and the medic helped to relax it. After about a minute I stood back up, walked it off, and confirmed they were ready to film. They gave me the thumbs up.
One last time, I semi-sprinted to the finish and crossed the line. I was then given my medal back, and could finally go to get some food. I was congratulated for finishing the marathon, and was told at that point I was the only person to finish the marathon.
Wait. What? Whilst I knew none of the Impact week’s runners had overtaken me, I think I’d expected there to be local runners ahead of me. There wasn’t though, and nobody had made it through the cutoff either. Unfortunately this meant Maria hadn’t made it in time for the cut-off then, and I felt very sorry for her. She really wasn’t that far behind me really. Maybe twenty or so minutes, I thought. It seemed incredulous to believe that not only had I finished the marathon first, but would be the only finisher of the full course for the first ever marathon in Musanze.
Harry thanked me for proving that the course was possible to finish. Nick B seemed to think I’d done it very quickly too, though I wasn’t so sure - I could think of plenty of places I could have saved time if I’d wanted to. I hadn’t though, I’d wanted to enjoy it, take photographs, and just take it all in. I think it is the most scenic and enjoying route I've ever done, and considering both Nepal and Jordan marathons are options, it's really saying something. Impact Marathons had really outdone themselves in choosing this country.
Whilst I was getting food, the final two had finished, and it wasn’t long then before we began our drive back in the dark - escorted by the police to make sure we got back to our hotel okay. I should have thought about eating so close to the journey though, but perhaps it was the shock of finishing that caused the lapse in judgement. Eating food whilst on Africa’s minor roads, may not be the best idea. If there ever could be any doubt, I started to feel queasy during the journey, and it then became a rush to reach the bathroom of my hotel room before some serious vomiting. Yeah, sorry about that.
I then felt fine though, and after a shower I joined the others in the restaurant for a barbecue. Maria then joined us, having done four miles around Musanze in the dark in order to make up the distance to be a full marathon. Now, there were two of us who completed a marathon today. Dan was recovering well too, so with Lily was back in the hotel for everyone's final meal together. Tomorrow we'd splinter off into different groups for bolt-ons and different plans.
At 21:40 I decided it was time to pack ready for the adventures ahead, so thanked everyone and left. It took a full hour to pack almost everything! pick up their unique finishing medal - carved right there in Musanze.