One of the coolest things I’ve done in country.

My alarm was set for 5am this morning, but I was already awake. Eager. But as I listened to the sound of the wind whistling through the banana plantations, which can only signify one thing: rain, and poked my head out my door for the briefest of seconds, enough to see the stars and moon still in full splendor, I reversed back inside. Less than a minute later, I hear a gingerly tap on my door, followed by one of my favorite laughs. “Okay, I’m coming, give me a second…” Sigh. Within the time it takes to boil a pot of coffee, Ronald, Dononzio and I were trotting along the main road, in a state of utter darkness through which you could hardly see three feet in front of your toes. But with only the light of the Southern Hemisphere’s constellations to guide us, and not a soul in sight, it was the most primordial I had ever felt. Now this was running!

Eventually, we were met along the way by the rising sun over the hills (that still confound me to this day), because what I assumed would be a 15-, 20-minute run, tops, charged on at a sprint for 7, 8 miles. With Ronald, at one point, boasting: “we can go on like this all the way to Kasese!”. Kasese being a large town about 50km away, on the opposite side of Queen Elizabeth National Park. And you know what? I swear, I think they could have. Guess I should have taken more than a swig from my water bottle before we set out. ..

So as I sit here, freshly showered (I always enjoy when my icy shower actually feels nice), breakfasting on oatmeal, my boys are already sitting in their first lecture of a 9-hour school day. And Ronald ran in dress shoes and dress pants; Dononzio in a, much more acceptable, pair of swim trunks. Damn Africans.