February 10 - Confessions of a Professional Athlete Accused of Doping and Suspected to be a Man
1.13.13
“People say that you got a shot to make you strong and
that’s why you can run.” I have an
11-year old friend, Alia, who tells me the rumors about me in town. This is by far my favorite one. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine
I’d be good enough at a sport to be accused of using performance-enhancing
drugs. My brother Nathan tells me that
I’m just going through the rumors that all elite athletes face, and could get
in touch with Lance Armstrong to tell him I know how he feels.
As I’ve mentioned in a few of my work posts, I’m training
for the Parakou marathon. I really
didn’t expect to run while in the Peace Corps, although I did buy a pair of
trail runners from REI before leaving (my only closed toed shoes) and packed 6
pairs of socks just in case. I’m a very
off-and-on runner in the states. I got
inspired to do a half marathon with a friend after watching the Boston Marathon
for the first time, but after the half was done I literally didn’t run for
about a year. I figured I’d have enough
to deal with in Peace Corps without adding running in. Besides, I can’t stand running in the heat,
and I imagined that everyone would stare at me.
But when I visited Peonga on post visit, I realized several
things. 1. It is actually pleasantly
cool in the mornings, not hot at all. 2.
Peonga is surrounded by 4 beautiful dirt roads through trees and fields with no
traffic, perfect for exploring. 3. Everyone stares me no matter what I’m
doing. Add to the equation Cara, a
fellow volunteer who has run several marathons and is convinced that it’s easy
and wonderful and anyone can and should do it.
She talked several first-timers like me into training for Parakou. After all, after my half marathon I thought
I’d like to try a full marathon sometime – but only when I moved to a new place
and had a lot of free time and could easily rearrange my life to accommodate
training. Well, I’ll never be in as new
of a place with as much free time and as flexible of a schedule as now.
My first run was just
15 or 20 minutes long, right after I moved to village. That day the victory was just getting out of
the house and doing it – and I was helped by a beautiful sunrise that I saw out
my window that was begging to be explored. Since then, I’ve been doing 3-4 runs
a week, one getting progressively longer each week. There are many more structured ways to train
for a marathon, but this seems to be working for me. There have been some really nice things about
running in the mornings. Peonga is very
small, so after 5-10 minutes at the most I’m outside of the village running
through the fields. I’ve gotten to see
the seasons change, watching different plants start flowering, different crops
being harvested, and all the foliage dry up and get red and dusty as the dry
season has progressed. On long runs, I
leave when it’s still dark and get to experience the day getting slowly
light. On one favorite run, I was
running directly towards the full moon, watching it for more than an hour as
the day dawned and it gradually faded into the sky. I’ve gotten to see lots of different birds,
and almost everyone I pass- whether on a motorcycle, in a truck headed to a
market, or on foot leading a cow, has waved and smiled and cheered me on.
I’m waxing poetic, and that might be because tomorrow is
long run day and I’m trying to convince myself that running for 3 hours will be
wonderful.
2.2.2013
7 days to marathon. Not
only have I been accused of doping, but I am also now, in a sense, a
professional athlete – last week I made about $6 for running.
I’d gone to Nikki, a nearby large town, for a big festival
called Gaani. I’d been told there would
be a race the morning of the festival, and I should go to the mayor’s office at
6 am to register. The person who told me
was going based on his experience in past years, and a volunteer who I know who
works at the mayor’s office had heard nothing about a race. Still, I got dressed in my running clothes
and tiptoed over the many sleeping volunteers on the floor where I was
staying. It was still dark at 6 am and I
wasn’t exactly sure where they mayor’s office was, so I asked directions
several times. The words for “mayor’s
office” and “husband” are very similar in French, and I got a few confused
looks – I wonder if I mixed it up a few times.
Either way, I did end up finding the mayor’s office, and a race. True to Benin form, it started about 2 hours
later than scheduled. The race was a
6k. Up until the last moment, I was the
only woman registered. In America, you
usually find a mixed bag of people registered for races like this- a few
serious athletes, several fit mothers with running strollers, many people of
all ages who are just out for the personal victory of running 5 or 6 k. Not so in Benin. All my fellow runners looked
like well-trained soccer players in their mid-20s, complete with spiffy running
outfits. I made quite the contrast, the
only woman, in my dusty running shoes, loose capris and stained Principia
College t-shirt. At the last moment, I
was joined by two high school girls, one of which ran barefoot. When the time came to start the race, we were
all driven outside of town in a police car and an ambulance. We were given a brief pep talk that consisted
of “do everything you can to avoid accidents,” and were off. Us three girls were by far the last in the race,
and I came in dead last, behind even the girl with no shoes. But as the 3rd place woman, I
still won 3,000 francs, a Gaani festival polo shirt, a bottle of coke, and a
2013 wall calendar from MTN, a cell phone company. Not bad!
My time was 28 minutes 28 seconds.
The winner came in around 16 minutes, so I don’t feel so bad for being
last. My next race will be much, much
longer.
2.10.2013
Marathon was yesterday.
Wow, what an amazing experience – I can’t really figure out how to
bottle it up into words. I did it! The race started at 6 am, when it was still
dark. Most runners met up in Parakou and
were bussed to the starting line in Tchatchou, about 13 miles away. But a fellow volunteer who is also an avid
marathon runner happened to be stationed in Tchatchou, so several of us spent
the night at her house right by the start.
The first half of the race was along the highway leading into Parakou,
and the second half wove around the city, finishing at the catholic church sponsoring
the race.
On the official marathon poster, it is billed as “Un
Marathon Atypique au Benin a Parakou” –“An Atypical Marathon in Benin in
Parakou.” The slogan was accurate. Here are some of the ways this was truly an
atypical marathon:
·
There were only about 120 runners.
·
For the first half of the marathon, we ran past
villages of mud huts. Twice along the
course, we were cheered on by groups that were drumming and dancing.
·
The roads were not closed. The first half of the marathon was on one of
Benin’s largest north-south highways, so we were running on the shoulder being
passed by big trucks. The second half
wove through town, so we had to watch for motorcycles and other traffic. (There were police directing traffic at each
major turn, so we did have help).
·
At each water station, we were given bottles of
water – and immediately were chased by children calling “donne moi le bidon” – “give
me the bottle.” I felt like asking them,
“don’t you know that I sort of need this water right now?” They were actually
after the empty bottles, which can be reused, not the water – so I usually
handed my bottle off to a kid when I was finished with it.
·
For 3 of the last 5 kilometers, a young Beninese
woman ran alongside me. This was her
third marathon. She was only wearing
knee-high socks, no shoes. Several of
the male runners who passed me were wearing strapped, close-toed women’s sandals.
·
After finishing, when I went to the booth to get
my time, I noticed that I’d been written down as the 6th place
finisher on the women’s list, but my name was crossed out. When I asked why, they said “oh, we moved you
to this list.” And they took out the men’s
list, where I was 35th. I
clarified that I am indeed a woman, and they assured me they would correct
their records. Clearly, they had
recorded me as a woman, then for some reason someone said “wait, no, that can’t
be right, she’s a man.” I’m sure I
registered as female on my form, and I don’t think I was looking particularly
manly…maybe it was my superhuman strength and speed…Only, only in Benin.
Seven volunteers ran the full marathon, and for four of us
it was the first time. The course limit
was 5 hours, and we all finished on time!
Leading up to the marathon I seriously doubted I could do it. My longest run, about 20 miles to another
volunteer’s post, had been very, very challenging. But during the dry season (now) the roads
around me are very sandy, so it was sort of like training for a marathon on the
beach. Very scenic, but asphalt is a bit
faster to run on. And me and two other
volunteers ended up being about the same pace, so we ran all but the last 10 k
together. Running with us was a young
Beninese man who runs the marathon every year.
He really took us under his wing (I’m sure he could run faster),
directing traffic, making sure we didn’t get lost (a real possibility on a
course with so few runners), and staying back to run with whichever of us was
falling behind. As we got to the half
marathon mark, I realized we were going to make it. We were making good enough time that all we
had to do was keep going, even if we slowed down we would make it under 5
hours. From that point on, although it
got physically more difficult with each kilometer, I felt progressively mentally
more confident and better about myself – so the two sort of canceled each other
out. Every few kilometers we’d see the
distance remaining painted on the road, and as the numbers got smaller we’d say
to each other “23 k, what a small number!”
“16 k, that’s nothing!” I ran the
last 10 k by myself, a bit ahead of my two friends. My time: 4 hours, 37
minutes, 56 seconds. Way, way better
than I thought I could do. I was sore
and tired of course, but nothing hurt in particular – just general sore. And I felt – still feel – so amazing.
Our Beninese friend runs with Heidi, Kelly, and me
This marathon was sponsored by the Catholic Church, and the
motto on my medal reads ‘”Tout par Amour, Rien par Force.” “Everything by love, nothing by force.” A very clear parallel to the text from the recent
Christian Science Bible Lesson I was studying on Love: “With Love, all things
are possible.” On my last long run, the
one that was so difficult, I dealt with a lot of hip pain. I was limping half of it, and for the whole
day afterwards. I was afraid of that
happening for the marathon, but it didn’t happen at all. And I didn’t have the experience of “hitting
the wall” that many marathon runners talk about either. Really, the whole experience was so
characterized by love. Thanks those of
you who were praying with me in the days leading up to the race, helping me see
this experience as a spiritual one, an opportunity for me to learn more about
my abilities as God’s child.
My friend Cara talked a lot about marathon running as a
metaphor for life. And really, it
is. Life isn’t like a short race that’s
a burst of speed and then you’re done. In
a marathon, your body hurts and complains but you just don’t listen, you
continue running in the way you know you have to. Life, perhaps especially Peace Corps, is a
lot like that. All kinds of mental
complaints demand your attention and try to throw you off track, but you need
to just keep moving forward, living your life in the way you’ve chosen to.
It’s a struggle to sum all this up and this blog post is
getting quite long – but I’m sure at least those of you who have done this will
know what I’m trying to say. Any other
marathon runners have thoughts to share?
Even today, the day after, I’m pretty sure I want to do this again. Maybe not next year, maybe not right away,
but sometime. I’d like to try an
American marathon, maybe one with large crowds of runners and no need to dodge
traffic…
At the Finish
Wow. You inspire me so much Bethany! I really want to start running again! Congrats on a race well-run and I'm glad you found your "husband!" :)
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