Running for Love

In a race with an elephant, so goes the saying, even the chameleon reached the finishing mark! That much was true in last Sunday’s MTN Kampala marathon.   

Anyway, as the throng set off in their yellow jerseys for the grueling race, memories of my inaugural participation in 2009 gushed back. That year I got involved, not for charity but for love! I was secretly in love with a woman but had failed to muster the guts to tell her. So I figured that if I can endure the rigors of completing the marathon, it meant I had the stamina I very much needed to look the beauty in the eyes and profess my love. 

Before set off in 2009 on a run for love!

But just 2km into the marathon, my lungs filled with burning pressure, my heart was almost exploding, and my muscles were throbbing excruciatingly. I was on the verge of quitting but the optimist in me taunted, “You quit now and you'll never see that girl again!”

In my preparation for the race, I had read the spectacular story of Pheidippides running from the village of Marathon to Athens to deliver the good news of a military triumph. Now his story came back to me, as if to spur me further on. I mean this Greek patriot had moreover done 40km and here I was already fretting over a mere 12km! I gritted my teeth in shame, swearing to complete the race even if it meant dropping dead afterward. 

It was an invigorating revolve that saw me overtake a buxom girl whose breasts were jouncing inside her vest in rhythm with her pace, and a man who was slogging it with frightening weariness etched on his face, his tongue sticking out like a dog’s. He looked about to drop dead but was a better athlete than the muscled guy that shamelessly jumped on a boda-boda when the going got tough, making me realise I wasn’t doing badly after all. 

As we approached the finishing mark, I barrelled past others like a bullet. I had found my groove and there was no stopping me now! What a great feeling as I crossed the finish line. I tell you it was more elating that what barefooted Abebe Bikila must have felt when he aced the 1960 Olympic Games marathon in Rome. 

And that evening, with the new found confidence, I dialed that number and won that long overdue date with the apple of my eye!