Journey to the Lewa Safari Marathon

By September 2024, I had just completed 20,000 push-ups in a year and banked four full hours of Wim Hof breathing, and about 8 hours' worth of cold showers and cold plunges. I guess I still wasn't over the breakup. 

What I was not doing much of was running. 

I returned from Canada after a summer of hikes, more pushups, and lots of kayaking, and noticed that the Nairobi City Half Marathon was happening on September 8th. I hadn’t really been training for it, but I had been keeping decently fit, and I felt like that would be enough for me to wing it. I ran it in about 1:45, which, under the circumstances, felt pretty respectable. In my mind, I was already halfway there in terms of running a full marathon. 

Next on the calendar was the Standard Chartered Marathon on October 27th. I actually planned to run the half marathon, but it was sold out. My only option was to get into the full marathon which required a bit of 'creativity'. 

"What the hell, we'll see how it goes." 

At this point, my 'training' consisted of roughly ten runs, mostly intervals, with the longest being 15 km. A marathon is 42 km, a detail I was technically aware of but work was pretty heavy at the time and well, I didn't have a lot of energy left over for running. I squeezed in a weekend hike with my buddy Alexander what was pretty epic. We went to Mt. Suswa and hiked the 22 km crater rim. Alexander wasn't keen on running so I added an extra challenge: 15 pushups every 15 minutes. Over five hours, I collected 322 pushups. 

The Mt. Suswa Crater Rim is 22km all round

Then October 22nd rolled around, the marathon. My race strategy was: run the first half exactly like the half marathon, then tap into sheer will power for the second half. 

For a while, things went surprisingly well. I stayed ahead of Tom Valentine, a seasoned runner who had been training properly and for much longer than I had. This gave me an intoxicating sense of overconfidence which was short lived. I stayed ahead of him until km 26 at which point he overtook me. Then he just got further, and further, and further away into the distance. 

At km 30, everything seized. Ankles, knees, hips, morale. My forearms were tingling. I was experiencing pain in my body that I had never experienced before. Even my testicles were in pain (why??). The remaining 12 km were a sad blend of walking, jogging, and self-pity. I finished in 4:09, which felt… disappointing.

Later, I learned that Oprah Winfrey’s best marathon time was 4:29.

Was I really only 20 minutes faster than peak Oprah?

For the next 8 months, I would have to go to war against myself and mother nature. 

Firstly, I did what I should have done earlier: I checked the RunBeyond race calendar and signed up in advance for some races—mostly trail runs that looked scenic (and, crucially, didn’t interfere with my birding plans of course). 

I decided to train smarter: regular 10–20 km runs with a focus on building my VO₂ max, and lots of strength and stability work, partly because I’d torn an LCL the year before. I did a ton of yoga at Two Rivers. 

January brought a sudden desire for high altitude training. My friend Alexander and I decided it would be epic to hike Pt. Lenana on Mt. Kenya in a weekend. We left early Saturday Jan. 20th, parked at Moses Camp, hiked to Shipton’s Camp, then woke obscenely early on Sunday, summited by 7 a.m., and descended all the way back to the car in one day. It actually wasn't that bad but the drive home, mostly in the dark, was brutal. 

Shipton's Camp

I tried to make it to Mt. Longonot a couple times a month. The crater loop (13 km, 630 m elevation gain) became a favourite - my personal best clocking in at 1:35 (I believe the record is just under 1:20). Another good one was the Karura Forest perimeter loop, a glorious 25 km figure-eight. I'd stop for sparkling water and a green smoothie at Sigiria Forest Café which I pretended was an 'aid station'. 

One of my crazy Longonot crater runs

On February 1st, I lined up for the 30 km Tigoni Tea Trails run. This time, I was a bit better prepared. The hills were brutal. I finished in 3 hours flat (well I would have if I'd not taken a wrong turn with 1 km left). Tom went the right way. I finished about 200 metres behind him. 

From March to May, I was really kicking the training into high gear. During a solo safari to the Mara Triangle, I ran a savage 15 km midday climb up the Ololoolo Escarpment. It was very hot and very scenic. 

Then came May 25th: the 30 km Lukenya Hills Trail Run. This would be a true test about a month before Lewa. 

I finished in 2:43, smashing my previous PB by 17 minutes and finishing well ahead of Tom. I won’t lie, I was pleased with myself. I hold Tom in high esteem, which made beating him all the more satisfying, but I did not celebrate. I knew very well that 12 extra km's would be no joke. 

The following weekend was the Sigiria Forest Relay, and I skipped an epic birding road trip to Ruma National Park - where Pennant-winged Nightjar and Blue Quail were seen - to race instead. I would have felt terribly bad about letting my team-mates down: 2 fellow teachers and a pupil of mine at BGE. As tantalizing as looking for Stripe-breasted Flufftails with Pete, Angela and Victor was, it would have been a very unclassy move. We had a great time at the relay which was highly competitive and a great vibe. 

Two days later, on June 7th, I did what would be my final serious bout of training before the big marathon. I wanted do do one more thing at altitude so I did a solo Mt. Kinangop day hike: 28 km, 1,263 m elevation gain, muddy bogs, rock scrambling, dawn to dusk. 3 weeks to go. 

Mt. Kinangop is the pointy peak in the background

The Lewa Marathon was set for June 28th. I tapered properly: yoga, easy jogs, nothing over 15 km. There wasn't really anything else I could do by this point. My VO₂ max was, I assume, illegal. 

Tom picked me up from Sagana the day before. Hundreds of runners camped at Lewa Wildlife Conservancy. On race morning, the energy was electric. Runners jogged and walked to the start line through wild grasslands. Helicopters buzzed overhead—filming the race and, presumably, encouraging elephants and lions to make themselves scarce. 

Bang. We were off.

The course was two identical 21 km loops. I finished the first in 1:45—perfect. But on the second loop, it was about to get real. 

At km 22, my blisters exploded. The salty sweat shot a stinging sensation into my feet with each stride. The heat was brutal, the hills unforgiving. Thank God there were water stations every 5 kilometers - those may have saved some lives that day. I did see one chap get carted off in an ambulance during the second loop. There was one beautiful water station with a walk-through 'misting tunnel'. What a feeling! As per a typical Kenyan marathon, there were of course also some motivational "cheerleading stations"  - some beautiful ladies dancing to some music on loudspeakers. I'm not gonna lie, I always put a little extra pep in my step when I pass those! 

By km 35, my body began to lock up. I had to stop and stretch a few times just to loosen up the muscles so I could keep moving. The pain was excruciating, especially in the ankles, knees and hips.  I made a deal with myself: if I finish this bastard in under 4 hours, I have permission to retire from all marathons forever. If I don't do under 4, I will have to do another one. 

A Belgian runner, Mathieu Destrooper, encouraged me from km 25 to 35 before pulling ahead. Another fellow by the name of Zachary Adams encouraged me for the last 1 km. I latched onto him like he was some sort of guardian angel sent to drag me across the finish line. I steadfastly refused to walk another meter and finish this bad boy with my head held high! 

Sweet Jesus, there it is...the finish line.

I crossed it. Looked at my watch.

3:53.

I collapsed to my hands and knees and wept—partly from the extreme physical pain, partly from everything else I’d been holding together for the past couple of years. Life had kicked my arse, but in that moment, I came out on top. 

Then I was carted off to the medical tent on a stretcher.

They removed my shoes. The arches of my feet looked like Canadian bacon. A slab of skin was cut off each foot with scissors and antiseptic applied. The sharp stinging sensation from the alcohol confirmed that I was still alive. Few, that's a relief. A doctor came over and checked me with his stethoscope. “You pushed your heart too hard.”

Epilogue: 8 days later, I ran the Nairobi City Half Marathon in a time of 1:33, a personal best by 17 minutes. Since then, I've taken a break from long distance running. It is December as I type this and I feel like my body is still sore! Would I do another Lewa Marathon? Well, I just got a job offer to move back to Kenya and I'm seriously considering it for June 2027. 

1:33  - not bad!

A solo trip to the Mara

During the April holiday, I decide to cancel my trip to Tanzania and head to Mara Triangle instead. I'd always wanted to do a solo safari where I can fully immerse myself in the wild and pay full attention to the wildlife. My patience paid off when I got to witness what few safari-goers do: a cheetah kill. In fact, a team of 3 cheetah's took down 2 baby zebras at the same time. I only managed to snap one of the kills because the other was happening off to the side and I didn't actually see it. Watching a Serval hunt without lots of safari vehicle scaring it away was also really cool. April is a great time to come with lots of rain and few cars, but on the last day I received a phone call from the park staff that the Purungat Bridge was a no-go, which forced me to drive out of Ololoolo gate. Then I was given permission to transit the Masai Mara Reserve (normally not allowed or private drives). I got to cross the famous Double Crossing at the Talek River, which pushe my X-trail to its final test. With the help of some passing workers, we built a ramp using rocks to get onto the concrete bridge/weir thingy, which had about a foot of water running over it. This was super sketchy but I somehow got out! I didn't see too much in the Mara otherwise. I got home very late but it was quite the adventure! 

Tabora Cisticola!

Coqui Francolin

Serval

Rosy-throated Longclaw

Familiar Chat @ Mara West Camp

Temminck's Courser

Mt. Ololokwe Climb (via "Guiness and Goat route) - December 2024

 Let me tell you the tale of when I climbed Mt. Ololokwe, the Guiness and Goat route.

So one day I’m sitting at home, Christmas break, nothing to do. I get a text from none other than Simon Maina, my guide friend from Mt. Kenya. 

“Peter Naituli is up in Samburu for a wedding, he wants to know if you if you want to climb Mt. Ololokwe, but you have to get there by tomorrow.”

I knew this was an opportunity that might not present itself ever again, and I had to seize it.

So one time in 2022, I was hiking this mountain with Jackson, and we met a dude called Forest, and we watched him rappel down the same route from this cave, and then he climbed back up solo. And it was so EPIC. And I said to myself

“One day I’m gonna come back here and climb this beast.”

I had to quickly get myself organized so I could leave the following morning. Naituli only had his basic gear with him so I had to make a pit stop in Naro Moru to grab a second rope from Simon.

Naitulie and I met up just outside of Nanyuki at a farm of a friend of his. My first impression of him was “holy shit, this guy’s tricepts are insane.”

Like, I’ve never seen a dude so authentically jacked. You don't get this way from just lifting weights. So we immediately hit it off and I knew that I had found a rare kindred spirit. Our whole life philosophy was on the same wavelength. Our love for calisthenics, our endless pursuit of goals and milestones...

So we drove up to Samburu and we had to pick up a local Samburu guide called Simon. Naituli directed me along some dirt roads white a bit off the highway, turn left turn right, in the dark...I have no idea how he knew that way. Then he got out and walked off somewhere for a few minutes then reappeared with our guide.

Simon directed us to a little-known bush camp, not the Sabache camp but another one run by the locals. It was evident that we were in the domain of Elephants, judging by the many droppings and mashed up trees as well as the distant crashing sounds. African scops owls serenated us to sleep.

At 5:30 we woke up and got our selves organized and started the bush-wack from Hell up to the base of the cliff. Along the way many branches were slapping me in the face and at one point a twig slapped me in the eye and I thought I had a serious scratch but it went away. Then we got further and I realized my helmet had fallen off of my bag because it wasn’t fully clipped on. Simon was able to backtrack and find it and we were on our way.

At last it was nearly 10 and we got to the base of the cliff and Naituli gave me a little briefing. He was not impressed. I guess my knowledge was a little rusty and I needed a few more reminders than he expected. “What is the golden rule of belaying?” he asked. “Never let go of the dead rope?” I said. “Well at least you know that!” Seemingly satisfied with my readiness, he disappeared up the cliff.

I have to be honest, I was shaking a little bit during the 1^st pitch, just cause of the scale of this cliff, and just how flat the rock was, like there weren’t many holds, and you had to use the friction of your shoes and there were like some tiny little ledges that were like crimps kinda, and lots of spots where you had to just put your toe on the rock and hope it doesn’t slip.

So by the second pitch the shaking went away and I had a nice rhythm going and I felt really calm and I remember feeling this emotion of being really happy and at peace. We were moving like a well oiled machine, efficient.

I was having the time of my life

So some of these pitches, to give an idea, were pretty long, like one was 45m and one was 50m long. And some of the runs were oooooffff I don’t remember exactly but maybe like 10m, between camps, and there weren’t very many cracks so we ended up not using any nuts (except the ones between our own legs).

So there were times when Naituli just disappeared and I could barely hear him. Sometimes I could barely make out him screaming “CLIMB WHEN READY” and once or twice I couldn’t even hear him at all but I could feel the rope get tight and a couple of tugs, and that’s how I knew it was time to climb.

By halfway up we were in a smooth cruising mode and super excited and just enjoying the epicness of it and I knew I might never do this again so I really focused on being present in the moment and taking it all in. I could actually understand why this mountain is sacred to the Samburu, because I could feel a deep sense of reverence for this mountain. And it wasn’t so much like I was conquering but more like I was finding harmony with it.

So Naituli is an extremely competent guide and has actually done this as a free solo and of course the leader takes all the risk so I can’t brag too much about it, but I did feel pretty good about myself when we reached the cave at the top. A couple of birds tried to distract me, there were stone partridges, a stripe-breasted seedeater and a cliff chat.  but I was pretty locked in so I had like a 3 second view then cracked on with the mission.

So the last little bit you had to climb up this tree root and you didn’t need any rope so I guess that counts as pitch 7, I took a moment to thank Naituli. The guide/client relationship on a mountaineering trip is quite a bit more important than on your average hike or safari, , it demands a serious amount of responsibility by both people, cause there could be deadly consequences. I think I measured up.

We weren’t done yet, getting back down was a whole other ordeal that’s a whole other story I won’t include in the video. The logical celly was to head to Archer’s Post for some Nyama Choma, we absolutely demolished a couple of kilos of meat before crashing at the local hotel.

The next morning it was already over and we said our goodbye. It was kind of a bitter sweet moment because it’s very rare that you meet someone that so closely shares your vision. Especially our endless pursuit of physical goals, and the need for quests that emanate from the depths of our souls. This is a dude who will, in the middle of the hike, spot a cool ledge and just bust out a few one-armed pullups, just for the fun of it. So you can see why we got along. I had a feeling like I wouldn’t see Naituli for a long time or ever again, cause the guy is pretty busy. 

But, the memory of this epic climb will sit in my soul like an ember waiting to be rekindled.