My name is Ellen and I doing a guest post about what it is like to train and race a half marathon in a third world country. Everything that is written below expresses my personal opinions and experiences. I hope you enjoy!
In January 2007 I packed up my bags and moved to Guatemala for a 29-month stint as a Peace Corps Volunteer. I was beyond excited and nervous and did not know what to expect. Previous to me leaving for Guatemala I had been running pretty regularly, running 4 days a week and doing seven or eight miles with out a problem. I was in very good shape and felt great about my body and weight.
![n4501112_30891945_9958[1]](http://carrotsncake.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/n4501112_30891945_99581_thumb.jpg "n4501112_30891945_9958[1]")
The first three months of Peace Corps is all about adjusting. I was in training five days a week, took intense Spanish classes every day, and lived with a wonderful host family. I was loving my experience and soaking it all in, but the only problem was I did not have much control what I ate and I could not exercise like I was used to in the states. My host mother made me breakfast; Corn flakes, hot milk and banana, packed my lunch, usually some sort of beans and vegetables and chicken dish, and for dinner it was refried beans and white bread or tortillas. Food was terrific and in the spirit of adapting to my new country I ate everything. I continued to eat everything when I moved to my post and once again lived with another host family for three more months. I made sure to eat lots of fresh fruits and vegetables, which there were plenty of. It was mango season after all, but I also ate a lot of carbs, tortillas, pasta, cereal etc. By the time I completed my first year I had gained 15 pounds and no longer felt healthy or in control. Fortunately though, I finally moved out into my own little house and was free to cook for myself. That is when I took back control of my diet and I decided that I was going to train for a half marathon!
Guatemala does have a culture of running and biking and hosts a few great half and full marathons throughout the year. The most famous is the international marathon in Coban. Many of the 180 volunteers in Guatemala run the race or travel to Coban to party and support their fellow volunteers. I set my sight on running the half marathon and in scripted a few of my friends to run with me. Training started slow. I had a great running route that led out of my town through the country side and up down the hills, I mean mountains. My town was located in the middle of a valley, and to get any where I had to go up up up and then down down down and then up up up again. Getting used to the hills was difficult but soon I was up and down them with out a problem.
Training for a marathon in rural Guatemala though is an interesting endeavor. Even though running is a normal past time in more urban areas in the country it definitely was not in the rural areas. Walking sure, or biking if your bike could make it over the ruts in the road, better yet hitchhiking in the back of pick up truck, but definitely not running!
The first time I set out to do a seven mile run I got dropped off at the beginning of the dirt road that leads to my town. The roads winds through corn fields and tiny villages. Around mile two of my run I came upon the village where I taught in the high school. I recognized faces of my students and they recognized me. They would call out “Seno” or “Teacher” “where are you going, what are you doing?” Of course I would try to explain that I running back to my town. They would then say “oh well we are having a party for a sister of mine. It’s her birthday why don’t you stop in and have some cake and coffee.” I would try to insist that No I am running, training and I can not stop. My students would look puzzled and then would say “ok we understand, but wait right here why we go get you a snack to take on your way.” So, I would be handed a piece of fruit or some avocado or whatever else and then I would be on my way. When I reached my town after seven miles and told my friends there that I run the whole way they just looked at me like I was crazy and asked me “why didn’t you just take the bus?”
Most of the time while training I encountered good vibes, people who were curious and friendly. They would wave to me, or pull up along side me to give me a ride in the pick up truck or I would have little kids that would run with me for awhile till they got to far out of their town or tired. Let’s not also forget the beauty of running in the country side. Guatemala is a beautiful country and ran through cornfields that towered over me, coffee fields with palm trees rising over the plants. I would run through tiny villages, past chickens, sheep and cows. It was all very breathtaking and made the miles go by fast.
![13043_526522678323_115200569_31406979_8204717_n[1]](http://carrotsncake.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/13043_526522678323_115200569_31406979_8204717_n1_thumb.jpg "13043_526522678323_115200569_31406979_8204717_n[1]")
Even though it was mostly positive, running in rural Guatemala had its perils. I usually tried to run with my friend or my boyfriend (now husband) because it is always safer in numbers. The most dreaded thing we would encounter were the packs of wild, chuchos or “dogs”. These animals were wily, skinny and nasty. They would do anything to keep you away from their territory and they would do their best to run you out of town. You had to be prepared. My friend and I would run with fist-full of rocks to throw at them if they got to close.
One time my friend and I were coming up on a tiny village and in the woods I could see the dogs lining up ready to charge. The pack is always led by the smallest, skinniest dog and he would come barreling down snapping at our ankles, and growling. We would slow down to a walk, hold our rocks high up in the air and stomp our feet shouting “fuera chucho!” or “ get out here dog” this usually kept them at bay but we would have to walk like that for a quarter mile or so before we could start up again. There are also more serious risks as well. When you are running in unknown territory and people don’t know who you are you have to be well-aware of your surroundings. Some volunteers had very close-encounters with unwanted advances from men, but that is not my story to tell, eventually being so hyper-aware can drag you down and after completing my race I decided I would only run in my town perimeters or with my boyfriend, so not to risk getting hurt.
Finally the race-weekend was upon us. My two friends and I piled into a bus and took the 12 hour trip to get to Coban. I was ready, excited and pumped! I felt great, I had trained hard for 3 months and I knew I could finish the race. The day before the race my boyfriend and I were sleeping in another Peace Corps Volunteer’s house. I woke up around 3:30 am and felt very bad. I quickly rushed to the bathroom and stayed in there for the rest of morning. It was dawning on me that something not so pleasant was happening in my stomach. I called the Peace Corps nurse and she urged me to go to the hospital to get tests done. I did that, but also concentrated on drinking water and trying to regain my strength so that I could race the next day. That afternoon I received a phone call from my nurse. “Ellen your results are in and you have un monton de amebas in your intestine” translation “Ellen your have amebic dysentery and you are very sick and have to go on intense medicine for a month and you can not run that race tomorrow!” I was devastated. I really wanted to run, I had trained I was mentally prepared and now I was being told I could not. I cried and my boyfriend (now husband) told me don’t worry Ellen there is another race in two months in Antigua we will run it together. I perked up, another race?
So, I held my boyfriend to his word and we signed up for the race. Actually we were the very first people to sign up for the race so my bib number was 1! I can happily report that I continued training and in July of 2008 I ran my very first half-marathon! The best part of it all was that through out the race I heard people shouting “Vayase numero Uno!” or “GO number One!” I completed the race in 2:05 and couldn’t have been more proud!
![n4501112_30891946_161[1]](http://carrotsncake.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/n4501112_30891946_1611_thumb.jpg "n4501112_30891946_161[1]")
I returned back to the States in June of 2009. I have trained and competed in few more half marathons and ten milers, but nothing will ever compare to training in Guatemala. The joy of running through the most breath taking scenery, being surrounded by people who love you and want to support you in anyway then can even that is offering you a ride to the finish line or giving you coffee in the middle of a seven mile run will always stay with me. I overcame some major obstacles to compete and I will never forget that experience and will use that to motivate me to keep running!
My name is Ellen and I doing a guest post about what it is like to train and race a half marathon in a third world country. Everything that is written below expresses my personal opinions and experiences. I hope you enjoy!
In January 2007 I packed up my bags and moved to Guatemala for a 29-month stint as a Peace Corps Volunteer. I was beyond excited and nervous and did not know what to expect. Previous to me leaving for Guatemala I had been running pretty regularly, running 4 days a week and doing seven or eight miles with out a problem. I was in very good shape and felt great about my body and weight.
The first three months of Peace Corps is all about adjusting. I was in training five days a week, took intense Spanish classes every day, and lived with a wonderful host family. I was loving my experience and soaking it all in, but the only problem was I did not have much control what I ate and I could not exercise like I was used to in the states. My host mother made me breakfast; Corn flakes, hot milk and banana, packed my lunch, usually some sort of beans and vegetables and chicken dish, and for dinner it was refried beans and white bread or tortillas. Food was terrific and in the spirit of adapting to my new country I ate everything. I continued to eat everything when I moved to my post and once again lived with another host family for three more months. I made sure to eat lots of fresh fruits and vegetables, which there were plenty of. It was mango season after all, but I also ate a lot of carbs, tortillas, pasta, cereal etc. By the time I completed my first year I had gained 15 pounds and no longer felt healthy or in control. Fortunately though, I finally moved out into my own little house and was free to cook for myself. That is when I took back control of my diet and I decided that I was going to train for a half marathon!
Guatemala does have a culture of running and biking and hosts a few great half and full marathons throughout the year. The most famous is the international marathon in Coban. Many of the 180 volunteers in Guatemala run the race or travel to Coban to party and support their fellow volunteers. I set my sight on running the half marathon and in scripted a few of my friends to run with me. Training started slow. I had a great running route that led out of my town through the country side and up down the hills, I mean mountains. My town was located in the middle of a valley, and to get any where I had to go up up up and then down down down and then up up up again. Getting used to the hills was difficult but soon I was up and down them with out a problem.
Training for a marathon in rural Guatemala though is an interesting endeavor. Even though running is a normal past time in more urban areas in the country it definitely was not in the rural areas. Walking sure, or biking if your bike could make it over the ruts in the road, better yet hitchhiking in the back of pick up truck, but definitely not running!
The first time I set out to do a seven mile run I got dropped off at the beginning of the dirt road that leads to my town. The roads winds through corn fields and tiny villages. Around mile two of my run I came upon the village where I taught in the high school. I recognized faces of my students and they recognized me. They would call out “Seno” or “Teacher” “where are you going, what are you doing?” Of course I would try to explain that I running back to my town. They would then say “oh well we are having a party for a sister of mine. It’s her birthday why don’t you stop in and have some cake and coffee.” I would try to insist that No I am running, training and I can not stop. My students would look puzzled and then would say “ok we understand, but wait right here why we go get you a snack to take on your way.” So, I would be handed a piece of fruit or some avocado or whatever else and then I would be on my way. When I reached my town after seven miles and told my friends there that I run the whole way they just looked at me like I was crazy and asked me “why didn’t you just take the bus?”
Most of the time while training I encountered good vibes, people who were curious and friendly. They would wave to me, or pull up along side me to give me a ride in the pick up truck or I would have little kids that would run with me for awhile till they got to far out of their town or tired. Let’s not also forget the beauty of running in the country side. Guatemala is a beautiful country and ran through cornfields that towered over me, coffee fields with palm trees rising over the plants. I would run through tiny villages, past chickens, sheep and cows. It was all very breathtaking and made the miles go by fast.
Even though it was mostly positive, running in rural Guatemala had its perils. I usually tried to run with my friend or my boyfriend (now husband) because it is always safer in numbers. The most dreaded thing we would encounter were the packs of wild, chuchos or “dogs”. These animals were wily, skinny and nasty. They would do anything to keep you away from their territory and they would do their best to run you out of town. You had to be prepared. My friend and I would run with fist-full of rocks to throw at them if they got to close.
One time my friend and I were coming up on a tiny village and in the woods I could see the dogs lining up ready to charge. The pack is always led by the smallest, skinniest dog and he would come barreling down snapping at our ankles, and growling. We would slow down to a walk, hold our rocks high up in the air and stomp our feet shouting “fuera chucho!” or “ get out here dog” this usually kept them at bay but we would have to walk like that for a quarter mile or so before we could start up again. There are also more serious risks as well. When you are running in unknown territory and people don’t know who you are you have to be well-aware of your surroundings. Some volunteers had very close-encounters with unwanted advances from men, but that is not my story to tell, eventually being so hyper-aware can drag you down and after completing my race I decided I would only run in my town perimeters or with my boyfriend, so not to risk getting hurt.
Finally the race-weekend was upon us. My two friends and I piled into a bus and took the 12 hour trip to get to Coban. I was ready, excited and pumped! I felt great, I had trained hard for 3 months and I knew I could finish the race. The day before the race my boyfriend and I were sleeping in another Peace Corps Volunteer’s house. I woke up around 3:30 am and felt very bad. I quickly rushed to the bathroom and stayed in there for the rest of morning. It was dawning on me that something not so pleasant was happening in my stomach. I called the Peace Corps nurse and she urged me to go to the hospital to get tests done. I did that, but also concentrated on drinking water and trying to regain my strength so that I could race the next day. That afternoon I received a phone call from my nurse. “Ellen your results are in and you have un monton de amebas in your intestine” translation “Ellen your have amebic dysentery and you are very sick and have to go on intense medicine for a month and you can not run that race tomorrow!” I was devastated. I really wanted to run, I had trained I was mentally prepared and now I was being told I could not. I cried and my boyfriend (now husband) told me don’t worry Ellen there is another race in two months in Antigua we will run it together. I perked up, another race?
So, I held my boyfriend to his word and we signed up for the race. Actually we were the very first people to sign up for the race so my bib number was 1! I can happily report that I continued training and in July of 2008 I ran my very first half-marathon! The best part of it all was that through out the race I heard people shouting “Vayase numero Uno!” or “GO number One!” I completed the race in 2:05 and couldn’t have been more proud!
I returned back to the States in June of 2009. I have trained and competed in few more half marathons and ten milers, but nothing will ever compare to training in Guatemala. The joy of running through the most breath taking scenery, being surrounded by people who love you and want to support you in anyway then can even that is offering you a ride to the finish line or giving you coffee in the middle of a seven mile run will always stay with me. I overcame some major obstacles to compete and I will never forget that experience and will use that to motivate me to keep running!