By Peter Gilmore
Ten years ago I took a running adventure to Eldoret, Kenya. A decade out, I thought this would be a perfect time to reassess what I learned on the other side of the world.
In 2001, I was just out of college and eager to learn how to run fast. My thought process was simple: Go to where the best runners are, and figure out what they’re doing that makes them so fast. Twenty four hours of travel later, I landed at Eldoret’s brand new airport.
Given that I was young and dumb, I made no plans for where I would stay, where I would eat, and what training group would accept me as a member. The last one is probably the biggest oversight, given that the point of this 6 week journey was to learn how to run fast.
For two nights I stayed at the dingy Wagon Wheel Hotel in central Eldoret. As luck would have it, I got linked up with Martin Keino, NCAA Champion and son of the legendary Kip Keino, who suggested that I stay at their home. The house doubled as an Olympic Training Center and orphanage. The accommodations were wonderful, the food was terrific, the people were kind, and the well water was drinkable.
Martin took me out running twice a day with his group of local guys, most of which were farm workers. They ran me into the ground for two weeks, until I started to get a little more comfortable with the altitude (7000 feet) and could at least keep up with the group.
Around that time we started to drive to a nearby town called Kaptagat for our morning workout. In Kaptagat we joined a group of local all-stars that easily number 60 bodies for our pre-dawn session. It was on those morning runs that I learned how the magic happens. It was difference between working and just going through the motions, and all the little things that separate the very best from all the rest.
Our twice weekly speed work sessions were fartlek style sessions. Simple times tables, like 10x3 minutes, or 8x 4 minutes, were tough but manageable. These weren’t all that different from what I was accustomed to doing at home, but with the addition of thin air and dozens of other runners.
It was the “recovery” days where the real work began. We started in the dark at 6am, after the 30 minute drive to Kaptagat. The group shuffled out of town for the first 20 minutes at about 8:00/mile. It felt slow, but I couldn’t see a thing in the darkness and welcomed the easy warm up. Soon enough the hammer dropped, and we quickly dropped below 6:00 minute pace. Over the hills for about an hour, the pace slowly dropped, and the field thinned, until we hit the final mile at a controlled sprint. Luckily the afternoon run was at a stumbling pace that allowed me to actually recover for the next day.
The group featured several world class runners, who I watched closely in an attempt to pick up any training secrets. Surprisingly, the studs didn’t stand out in any noticeable way. They worked hard, and had good days and bad days. The ones who really did stand out were the guys on the cusp of greatness, trying to achieve their first breakthrough on the international scene. They were hungry for success and it showed.
Looking back after 10 years, I’ve distilled what I learned down into three lessons. First, running over hilly terrain on soft surfaces is the best way to minimize the chance of injury while still working very hard.
Second, altitude teaches you how to hurt in the right way. Yes, it makes your blood thick with hemoglobin, but it also makes you very aware the minute you go into oxygen debt. Monster fitness comes from spending lots of time running at your aerobic limit. That means slightly slower than lactate threshold, or just shy of the red line for those old school types. At altitude it stings really bad when you cross that line, so you become more aware of your effort level.
Third, if you want to get the most out of yourself as an athlete, you better be really hungry for success. The guys I trained with, and have subsequently raced against, run like someone is trying to take the food off their family’s dinner table. It’s a deep seeded desire that can get you through some tough spots in a race. Runners everywhere need to find something in their life that can stir up that kind of tenaciousness to get the most out of yourself.
Ten years ago I took a running adventure to Eldoret, Kenya. A decade out, I thought this would be a perfect time to reassess what I learned on the other side of the world.
In 2001, I was just out of college and eager to learn how to run fast. My thought process was simple: Go to where the best runners are, and figure out what they’re doing that makes them so fast. Twenty four hours of travel later, I landed at Eldoret’s brand new airport.
Given that I was young and dumb, I made no plans for where I would stay, where I would eat, and what training group would accept me as a member. The last one is probably the biggest oversight, given that the point of this 6 week journey was to learn how to run fast.
For two nights I stayed at the dingy Wagon Wheel Hotel in central Eldoret. As luck would have it, I got linked up with Martin Keino, NCAA Champion and son of the legendary Kip Keino, who suggested that I stay at their home. The house doubled as an Olympic Training Center and orphanage. The accommodations were wonderful, the food was terrific, the people were kind, and the well water was drinkable.Martin took me out running twice a day with his group of local guys, most of which were farm workers. They ran me into the ground for two weeks, until I started to get a little more comfortable with the altitude (7000 feet) and could at least keep up with the group.
Around that time we started to drive to a nearby town called Kaptagat for our morning workout. In Kaptagat we joined a group of local all-stars that easily number 60 bodies for our pre-dawn session. It was on those morning runs that I learned how the magic happens. It was difference between working and just going through the motions, and all the little things that separate the very best from all the rest.
Our twice weekly speed work sessions were fartlek style sessions. Simple times tables, like 10x3 minutes, or 8x 4 minutes, were tough but manageable. These weren’t all that different from what I was accustomed to doing at home, but with the addition of thin air and dozens of other runners.It was the “recovery” days where the real work began. We started in the dark at 6am, after the 30 minute drive to Kaptagat. The group shuffled out of town for the first 20 minutes at about 8:00/mile. It felt slow, but I couldn’t see a thing in the darkness and welcomed the easy warm up. Soon enough the hammer dropped, and we quickly dropped below 6:00 minute pace. Over the hills for about an hour, the pace slowly dropped, and the field thinned, until we hit the final mile at a controlled sprint. Luckily the afternoon run was at a stumbling pace that allowed me to actually recover for the next day.
The group featured several world class runners, who I watched closely in an attempt to pick up any training secrets. Surprisingly, the studs didn’t stand out in any noticeable way. They worked hard, and had good days and bad days. The ones who really did stand out were the guys on the cusp of greatness, trying to achieve their first breakthrough on the international scene. They were hungry for success and it showed.
Looking back after 10 years, I’ve distilled what I learned down into three lessons. First, running over hilly terrain on soft surfaces is the best way to minimize the chance of injury while still working very hard.
Second, altitude teaches you how to hurt in the right way. Yes, it makes your blood thick with hemoglobin, but it also makes you very aware the minute you go into oxygen debt. Monster fitness comes from spending lots of time running at your aerobic limit. That means slightly slower than lactate threshold, or just shy of the red line for those old school types. At altitude it stings really bad when you cross that line, so you become more aware of your effort level. Third, if you want to get the most out of yourself as an athlete, you better be really hungry for success. The guys I trained with, and have subsequently raced against, run like someone is trying to take the food off their family’s dinner table. It’s a deep seeded desire that can get you through some tough spots in a race. Runners everywhere need to find something in their life that can stir up that kind of tenaciousness to get the most out of yourself.
