STORY TELLING

The Wild Marathon
I have run three full marathons, one of which remains the most suspenseful and surprising in my life. Running a marathon would be a memorable experience under any circumstances. But in most marathons, all of the competitors are human. Three years ago, I had an experience of running a marathon among wild animals.

I remember one day that we registered for it in my country, Kenya. At first, I thought that the marathon was the same as the one I have been used to, forty two kilometers of hills, sun and pushing yourself hard. But when we received the booklet containing the map and the detail, we realized that it was to be done in a game reserve. Everyone thought for a moment. Finally one of our friends broke the silence after realizing that the animals were to be scared away from the road by a helicopter, and shouted “let’s do it!“. I kept my worries inside and agreed with everyone. When the race started, things turned ironically.
The helicopter protection was mostly effective to people in the lead. And small plane kept on circling the loop we were running on. Though I wasn’t in the group that was leading, I kept on worrying about my friends behind me. After finishing, I waited for my team mates not yet starting to be happy. I kept myself busy by watching people finishing, though some collapsed. The faces they made while finishing entertained me most, as I knew I also made one. All of a sudden, I found myself looking at a wide open mouth. “I know this face” I said to myself. He was my friend trying to make a difference at the last minute. Then, the rest of my friends started arriving one by one sandwiched in a number of strangers. Most of them smiled at me while trying to sprint to the finish line. But the case was different to one of them, my friend. He looked more exhausted and little embarrassed. He ran with same pace until he crossed the finish line. “I will be glad to give massage” I offered. “No worries I will be okay” he responded. Later on he started talking.

It was a rhino! During the race, one of the groups that he was in got harassed by a black rhino. At about mile seven, most of the people were tired in their own style. Some craved for the next water point, some taking a couple of steps and stopping, some kept a constant relaxed motion and others with their tongue out. “Rhino” one of them shouted. By this time every one’s eyes were up, followed by a sprint in a different direction. One or two of these people’s lives were laid on the mercy of a knife like horn of a rhino. Fortunately, a man patrolling with a loud motorbike appeared and rescued them by the fact that many of wild animals except reptiles don’t like loud noise.

From that day, I swore not only to avoid running such marathons, but also never to advise anybody to go to a game reserve without a four wheel drive car.