Bending with the Road, or Running in Kenya

One of my favorite songs from any musical is "Growing Up" from Merrily We Roll Along. The protagonist, Frank, is contemplating (really, justifying) his life choices and the increasing tension between him and his two closest friends, Charley and Mary. He thinks his friends are too stuck on their childhood dreams. He thinks they're mistaking his ambition for selling out, compromising his ideals, and ditching the people, dreams, and values he cared about when they were young.

Here are some selected lyrics:

The tension in the song and the overall plot is exquisite. Frank makes a compelling argument about the necessity of learning and adjusting as one goes through life. He just happens to use that idea to justify selfish behavior: having an affair with his producer's wife, ignoring his friends' concerns, abandoning the ideals he once held dear.

I've recently had to do some adjusting during an extended trip to Kenya. Most of the 2,263 miles I've run since June 2020 have been in a suburban town in New Jersey and rural towns in Vermont and New Hampshire. I've been lucky to have safe, comfortable, moderately challenging running environments to explore and experiment with this new hobby. Until this year, I've refrained from running during my annual visits to Kenya. This most recent visit is the first time I've insisted on running in spite of several concerns that have previously limited me.

I arrived in Kenya determined to stick to my preferred routine. I was set on maintaining a weekly volume of 18 to 20 miles. I wanted to run at least 4 days a week. I had plans to follow a training schedule to achieve a sub-2 hour half-marathon and I wanted to attempt that sub-2 hour half-marathon before leaving.

I was quickly humbled by Embu, Kenya. My family's home sits at 4,500 feet with uphill climbs in every direction. The murram roads are rough and uneven, and, like trail running, demand dexterity and coordination from every muscle and nerve in the body. There are stray dogs and stray men and I can never tell what either of them are thinking or planning as I run past. Recreational running is not common here, so I receive stares as I long for the relative anonymity of running in the US. I also chose to bring just one pair of running shoes: Vibram FiveFingers KSO EVO, one of their most minimal running models. This required an additional layer of physical adaptation and caused weeks of achy feet and tender soles.

All of that required a lot of adaptation, or "growing up" as Frank would put it. I had to be flexible and quite literally "bend with the road." I settled for 3 runs a week, totaling to an average of 15 miles. I found a running companion for safety, even though I cherish solo runs. And I let the elevated, hilly, uneven terrain make me feet, heart, and lungs strong instead of wishing for easier conditions.

"Solving dreams, not just trusting them / Taking dreams, readjusting them"

Am I Frank? Say that the version of myself that landed in Nairobi three months ago was Frank's friend Mary and the present version of myself is Frank. In this case, Mary's disappointment in Frank is understandable. I am nowhere near sub-2 hour half-marathon condition; I haven't run longer than 8 miles since I've been here. If I compare my current stats with the original plan, I am short 18 runs and about 50 miles of running. It's like I goofed off for 3 months.

At the same time, my running in Kenya represents some of the most significant growth I've experienced as a recreational runner. I know way more about myself as a runner than I could have possibly learned in more favorable conditions. Adapting to minimalist running shoes on uneven and hilly terrain has made my feet and ankles resilient and strong. I am confident in my mental and physical ability to maintain a running practice in a wide range of settings and conditions. I've sharpened my sense of how much exercise is too much and learned to perceive and interpret signals like appetite, sleep, good aches, form, and cadence. I'm also injury-free as I write this.

Is this compromise? Wisdom? Selling out? Maturity? Giving up? Growing up?

The song ends with Frank kissing Gussie in the middle of her asking him "What is it you really--?". The kiss is a decision and an answer.