Sky News is making the background noise. Brother Colm and I are reading the paper. It’s Saturday Morning 10 o’clock and it is cold. Cold for Kenyans.

Someone is knocking at the door. It is Isaac. He tells Brother Colm that he and his training comrades are not ready yet. It is too cold, too misty. There is no such think like hectic in this place. Colm walks back and continues to read the daily paper. No stress at all. If they don’t start at 10, they start at 11. Where’s the problem?

We read on, and after some discussions on politics, football and training, Isaac comes back to tell Brother Colm that they would start now. We get the jeep ready. The roads are still a bit muddy around St. Patricks High School. As we drive slowly through the school complex, we see the boys warming up. In slow pace John Kemboi, Augustine Choge, Isaac Songok and Raymond Choge are jogging around the grass football pitch. It’s still misty and, for Kenya, kind of chilly. There is no rush. Brother Colm stops the jeep and we are watching the lads warming up. It’s quiet this morning and there is not much talking. The Kenyans look very concentrated and focused. They face a 45 minutes speed session around Iten.

“Which route do we take”, I ask Brother Colm. “I don’t know. They will decide during the run.” It is that mixture of guidance and let loose that makes training so special around that place. Brother Colm makes no restrictions. He knows how to approach the psyche of a Kenyan runner. He already proved it numerous times and he still is. I quietly observe, fascinated by the calm and focused atmosphere.

After 20 minutes of light jogging on grass the group is ready. Brother Colm shortly speaks to the boys and cracks some jokes. He outlines what he expects from the workout and leaves the boys with a warm smile.

The group starts slowly. We start the jeep and the stopwatch. For the first kilometres the tempo remains easy. While we head out of Iten, the tempo slightly increases. Colm is looking forward to see how Raymond is performing in the group. He looks strong. The group stays together and the tempo keeps increasing.

There is no such thing as running on the flat around Iten. The hilly terrain makes training challenging. Au gustineis leading the group. He is powering up a hill and is still increasing the tempo. As Brother Colm is watching the splits and talking about every single runner like it his kid, I am fascinated by the strides and the power of the runners. The only “non world class runner” in the group, Raymond, looks strong. Colm and I are happy to see him in such a shape. Colm is glad he can stay with them. The intention for him was to give him confidence in his own strength by staying with some experienced athletes. He is doing really well.

On a short steep climb Isaac looses the contact to the group. Brother Colm says he is still missing a bit of fitness after the Christmas break. No problem. He stays in the back of the group, just a few metres behind. “He´ll have closed the gap on the next flat section”, Colm says, although he is still struggling. We overtake him with the jeep to follow the other three guys. The kilometer splits hover constantly under 3:30 on extremely hilly terrain. Some splits are passed in close to 3 minutes per kilometer – at 2,500 metres altitude. Fascinating.

As we come closer to the end of the session, Augustine is increasing the tempo again. “He loves hills.”, Colm notes as he splits the group in pieces on a long uphill stretch. The other two guys can’t follow. I tell Colm the time. 45 minutes on the dot. He hits the horn and the boys stride out immediately. John and Augustine are shaking hands. Raymond runs towards the two and receives a respectful welcome. He can be happy with his run. Staying with those boys is not an easy task.

We pick up some people beside the road. They are happy to get a free lift into Iten.
I’m looking back. No sign of Isaac. We move on. The boys are striding easy and steady into town.

As we stop beside the market square, the lads are running towards St. Patrick’s School. Another workout is over. We drive on. Down the street we see three wazungu running. Brother Colm stops the car at the junction to see who it is. Stefano Baldini is passing by with two fellow Italians. They are waving as they stroll up the street. We instead are finished for the day. Back to the daily paper.

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The clouds are moving slow – so are we. It is early in the morning and there is not much conversation at this time of the day.

We lace up our muddy runners and walk the dry and lonely dirt road up to the main junction beside the police station. We meet Tarus, Sam and some other runner. Handshakes and tired smiles. The roads starting to get lively. Iten is getting busy again.

A bunch of guys already finished their morning routine and are just lining up for a bit of light stretching across the street. Italians would sit in a in a cafe and have their daily espresso. Runners in Kenya are stretching and checking out other runners. It is more about chatting and absorbing the early morning activities than taking care of the stressed muscles.

“Puuuhhh – It is cold” Sam shouts as he rubs his body and starts to move his legs. We slowly move on towards the clay road. The pace is easy and after a short chat, silence returns. Our little group is jogging on towards the sun. It is getting warmer but the pace remains easy. No one is talking. Still silence – beautiful.

“How are you – how are you…” the kids beside the road are shouting and waving. Fat mzungu is passing by and it is the highlight for the kids. School starts today and the uniformed pupils are on their way. Some are running with us for a few metres and some are just watching and wondering. The peaceful mix of soft wind and the intensity of the light make a 60 minute morning jog in the kenyan highlands something extraordinary.

A solo running mzungu, Koen Raymaekers, a Dutch 2:12 guy, turns right towards Eldoret. We turn around, back home for breakfast and a bit of stretching beside the junction.

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I stop my watch as I make the last strides on another beautiful evening run around Iten. “1:11:something” shows the display of my watch. Another training day, 2.400 metres above sea level is over.

I walk on and suddenly I meet Elisha beside the road. Looking at me, he asks shyly “No rest today?”. One doesn’t find many runners around on a Sunday evening in Kenya. Sunday is the traditional rest day. There may be a little jog in the morning if at all. Visiting relatives and going to the church is the main thing on the agenda. And so also Elisha is taking it easy on this sunny last day of the week, just out strolling to break the boredom at his camp down the road.

We walk on. He asks me if I ever ran a marathon. “Yes”, I reply. The next question, as always, is about the time. “What is your PB?”, he wants to know. Knowing that he will be amused with my reply, I tell him that I ran “2:50”. He stops walking. Looking critically at my sunburned post run legs he says what sounds simple and is straight forward. “2:28. You can run 2:28 – no problem. Just train!”

I smile as he looks at me. Elisha goes on “I ran 2:20 at my first marathon with no special preparation. In Turin. Italy.” Looking at the name beside the number “1” at the results of some Italian half marathons in the last two years, you’ll find the name “Elisha Meli”. Just training for three years, he has achieved some respectable results. The highlights, for him, include wining the 2008 Turin Half Marathon and pacing his fellow countryman John Komen to a new course record of 2h08’13″ at this years Venice Marathon. With the trademark Kenyan-style mix of tranquility and eagerness to compete, he is looking forward to race his first “competitive” 42k this year, when and wherever that may be.

Elisha and I are chatting on as we are strolling down the rocky backroad. Finally we are standing in front of his camp. After some jokes we shake hands and before i turn around to walk on, he looks at me and says “Just stay with us for three months. 2:28 – no problem!”

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As i didn’t have any previous knowledge or any expectations for that run i sticked to Donnas advice and ran with Adrian, a well experienced Ultra runner who was over with us for the race. Beside Adrian and me there was Eoin, another member of the Irish-German travel contingent who made the way for the “season-ender” to lyon.

The first part was on the streets and just a normal jog out of Saint Etinne. Shortly before the start I decided to wear my gore-tex rain jacket as the temperatures on top of the hill would get close to zero. I feared to get caught in a storm or to hit the rain. All members of the team were running with jackets so I was sticking to the advice and experience of the others.

Kilometre 16 saw the first aid station. We stopped got chocolate and tea in and ate and drank as we were walking on. The legs were still fine and i felt great. It was a special feeling to run at night and to run on trails. I enjoyed it a lot. The scenery, as far as I could see and the landscape was amazing and thrilled me a lot. I loved the mixture between rough trails, paths and back roads.

Our little group went on and the aid station in Moreu was the last one we reached together. Eoin felt good and on a uphill he was gone. Adrian asked me to run with him. I was nervous to join him. I felt good but I still had respect for the distance. I didn’t know whats happening after 3.5 hours of running. I stayed with Adrian which was a brilliant idea. He helped me a lot with his economic running and his patience.

After a little while and a downhill section were I nearly crashed again (I was hitting both of my toes 4 to 5 times…) I lost adrian. I felt good so i carried on with the rhythm I was running. Still on trails, still downhill, uphill, left, right, through a forest, over a rock around a tree around a bear!! NOT!!… But still brilliant and very exciting. I was always waiting for the next highlight to come. My highlight would be some of the good back roads that were leading us from trail to trail. I had phases were I loved the trails and parts were I just wanted to stay on the road for another hour. Size 13 plus lunar trainers were a bad and miserable combination. Rocks went in the shoe and I felt the croppy stones. As it was at night and in the dark I couldn’t see some of the obstacles so I felt the entire course.

The feed station in St Genoux was a special one. An old barn in the middle of the Massif Central. roughly 80 runners full of mud and keen to get calories, drinks, gels and fruits in as fast as possible. I entered the old shed and was happy to get my mug filled with tea. I felt the pain and I started to feel the tiredness. It was 4 o’clock in the morning and I still had a good bit to go. Earlier on, from top of the mountain I saw the lights of Lyon. And I wanted to see those lights a bit closer now. I leaned against a wall and all of a sudden Adrian stood in front of me. We were happy to meet again and after empting the shoes from little stones we surged on.

I tried to get the legs moving and it worked. I got the rhythm back and running on the streets made it more easier than the madness on the trails. I felt my energy coming back and what happened then is still a miracle for me. the legs started to feel great, the tank felt full . I was running smooth and effective up and downhill. It was like changing gears. I was amazed and hyped by myself. I was pushing, not to hard, but I was forcing the speed. In this phase the only guys that passed me where the relay guys that started later and were hammering down the field at this stage. Those relay guys helped me a lot. I followed them as often as I could and it worked out pretty well. The next aid stations in Beaunant and centre Lyon didn’t exist for me anymore. I was on a high. I had pain. the knees, all muscles and the sole was hurting but it was too sweet to give up now.

headed out with the sunrise this morning. stunning views over the wickow mountains as the sun went up.

parked the car above lough tay and jumped on the wicklow way for an “out and back” run. took the route of the wicklow way trail (a IMRA run in april). beautiful running overall. met the first people on my way back to the car.

20 beautiful kilometers on nice trails and rocks!

Motion Analysis of robert cheruiyot, james kwambai and other women and men elite runners at Boston ’08, filmed at mile 13.