Last year, Kenyan Geoffrey Mutai ran 26.2 consecutive miles at 4:42 each to win the Boston Marathon in the fastest ever time of 2:03.02. His compatriot Caroline Kilel won the women’s race. They were hardly pioneers: A Kenyan has won the Boston Marathon for 20 straight years. Kenyans now hold seven of the 10 fastest marathon times run in history.
From Boston to Rotterdam, the results of most major marathons in recent years have been summed up by an image of a Kenyan crossing the finish line with arms raised. Why, in this era of unparalleled global competition, do Kenyans win so much at this most elemental of sports?
In some ways, it’s a trick question. Kenyan runners succeed largely for the same reason that all great athletes do: They turn hard work into a lifestyle. The Red Sox [team stats]’s David Ortiz [stats] works out regularly, even during the offseason. U.S. Olympian Michael Phelps swims five hours six days a week, supplementing his pool routines with weightlifting and a 12,000-calorie diet. Similarly, a Kenyan marathoner will run more than 1,000 miles to prepare for a race, often logging two workouts a day at a pace rivaling that of a Mass. Pike morning commute.
Nevertheless, there is something special about the land so many of the world’s best runners call home. From Lamu to Lake Turkana, Kenya features some of the world’s toughest and most beautiful running terrain. It is also the crucible where many boys and girls grow up with a simple dream: To cover ground faster than anyone else in the world.
Indeed, Kenya’s Rift Valley Province alone has produced more Olympic medalist distance runners than any other country over the last 50 years.
This so-called “valley” sits up to 9,000 feet above sea level (New Hampshire’s Mt. Washington peaks at 6,200 feet; Boston’s Back Bay is 10 feet above sea level). At those altitudes the air is literally thinner, meaning less oxygen is pulled into the lungs with each breath.
Living at these heights, as any resident of the Rocky Mountains can tell you, forces the lungs to work much harder to supply oxygen to the muscles. Over time, the body adapts, producing more red blood cells to cope with the shortage.
Train at such altitudes, however, and the body undergoes nothing short of a transformation. The lungs expand; excess fat melts away (most male distance runners have less than 5 percent body fat); networks of capillaries suffuse the leg muscles; the heart itself grows larger, propelling more blood with each pump.
And Kenyan runners do train — rigorously. Mutai logs more than 100 miles in a typical week. Former women’s world record holder Tegla Loroupe, who famously ran her hill workouts up the side of a volcano, considered an 18-mile run a light day.
It’s a recipe that Kenya is eager to share with other countries; indeed, the country is planning to soon launch a track and field exchange program whereby U.S. university students would be invited to Kenya to train in the high altitudes and learn from their Kenyan counterparts.
The roots of great distance runners are not just in the land but in the community. Many consider distance running to be an individual pursuit; in Kenya it is a team sport. In the towns of Eldoret or Iten, for instance, training is a group exercise. Scores of runners glide across the landscape, chatting amiably on easier runs and motivating one another during grueling hill workouts.
Just as American boys and girls are taught teamwork and cooperation in youth sports programs across this country, an ethic of camaraderie and mutual support is vital to good distance running. Both of our cultures cherish the values of friendship, loyalty and hard-earned success.
Great distance runners display these values in abundance. Mutai, one of the most successful professional runners on the planet, feared at age 21 that an Achilles injury had ended his career before it truly began. He spent two years working for a Kenyan electricity company, during which time Mutai continued to run.
“I missed running, so I ran every morning before going to work,” he recalled.
After losing his job at the age of 23, Mutai turned a setback into an opportunity, taking the chance to again train seriously. Now, nearly a decade later, Mutai’s is a distinctly inspiring story; the former tree-trimmer for a utility is the reigning champion of one of the world’s most famous footraces.
Elkanah Odembo is the Kenyan ambassador to the United States, a 1980 graduate of Bowdoin College and an avid runner.
