Rush hour
Nairobi is home to some of the world’s top elite runners. Zoe Alsop tightens her laces and tags along for the run of her life through the Kenyan capital

We’re zigzagging up a steep slope in downtown Nairobi’s Uhuru Park when my Kenyan running companions begin to heckle me. “Who’s sweating now? Who’s panting?” Nahason Gitonga shouts as he leaps past me. There are giggles – yes, giggles – from the men around me, who bounce high in the air like a fleet of impala trying not to out-pace a less agile species – a sturdy cape buffalo, say, or maybe a warthog. Unlike me, my fellow runners have already run nearly 50km. No matter. I’m in heaven. I’ve dreamed of running with them since I first moved to Nairobi three years ago. But hectic traffic and heckling crowds cramped my running routine, and a tourism culture so solicitous in the way of bag-carrying, door-opening and chauffeuring only compounded the problem.
Survival of the fittest
Until recently, the average person travelling to Kenya had to admire runners such as Gitonga from the confines of a car. But now Gitonga and his group hope to change all that.
Tired of scratching a living out of odd jobs between their three daily runs, he and the 10 men he trains with have set up Run2gether Sports International. They now augment their scant winnings by guiding runners on customised runs along their favourite training routes. “We share this love for running,” explains Gitonga. “So we thought, why not help each other?”
Glance out your window as you pass along the highway from the airport and you might spot them – a fleet of lean men and women gliding past like an apparition amid the honking mid-morning traffic. They’re among the legions of brilliant runners who sustain one of the world’s most potent running cultures.
Crumpled in the back of a taxi after a long flight, you may be tempted to romanticise this running as effortless. But the athletes would beg to differ. “Kenyan running is war,” says Gitonga, a 30-year-old who has survived in the anonymous ranks of Nairobi distance runners for a decade. “Kenyans must struggle even to survive. When others feel pain, they slow down or stop. We go faster.”
I first met Gitonga and his running crew when they heckled me over my lazy pace as I jogged through Nairobi Arboretum. They offered to whip me into shape. It took me a year to work up the courage to take them up on their offer.
When I finally call, Gitonga urges me to join them for a run along the undulating Ngong Hills. I am tempted. The hills are legendary among runners, and the thousands who pace the ridge at dawn include Olympic gold medallist Sammy Wanjiru, four-time Boston Marathon winner Robert Cheruiyot and the great Paul Tergat. Still I resist, but convince Gitonga to meet me at the arboretum, a few kilometres above the city centre.
No ordinary run
I arrive early and shaking ever so slightly at the prospect of the run ahead. I’m in no mood for struggle – or war. I’m not really sure I even feel like jogging. But as I consider sneaking home, the runners arrive and sweep me along for a warm-up.
By the time we get to town, they’ve explained their training schedule and are taking turns loping alongside me to tell stories of races in Germany, Austria and, the hardest of all, Kenya. “You may go to a race of 60 people,” says Mooken Lesolan, 23, a former cowherd who is working to get his half-marathon time under 66 minutes, “and you’ll find 40 of them finish in 64 minutes and all in less than 67.”
When we climb back out of town, passing cars backed up along Processional Way, I’m shocked to see we’ve been running for more than an hour. Foolish with relief, I beg the men to run at their regular training pace for a minute or two. They straighten their backs, kick their heels higher for a step or two, tilt ever so slightly into their stride and are gone.
When I eventually catch up with them, panting, they reassure me. “If you train, we’ll make you a champion one day,” says Kenneth Mbuthia, a 29-year-old whose marathon time currently hovers around two hours and 10 minutes.
Maybe, maybe not. For the time being, they’ve just made me happy.
Keep fit
Other urban sports you can join and enjoy in the Kenyan capital
- Tennis For a rigorous session covering ground shots, volleys and serves, book a lesson at the Impala Club (Ngong Road, tel. (0)20 386 5684). Rackets are available to rent. Squash lessons are also available.
- Golf Drive further along Ngong Road for nine holes of golf at the Ngong Race Course. Watch out for training thoroughbreds, though.
- Swimming If your hotel doesn’t have a pool, there are places where you can put in some laps. Impala Club (see above), YMCA (State House Road, tel. (0)20 272 4116) and the Methodist Guest House (Oloitokitok Road, Kilimani, tel. (0)20 387 1080) charge KES 300 (€2,70) or less.
- Capoeira Enthusiasts of this acrobatic Afro-Brazilian martial art meet on Monday and Wednesday evenings at the National Theatre (Harry Thuku Road).
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