Eliud Kipchoge - Training

Introduction

Forty-two thousand, one hundred and ninety-five metres. Running. A distance that for most people is difficult to picture willingly covering on foot. But for one to run the marathon in under two hours? Unfathomable.

The marathon is an event that has been legend for millennia. It carries the weight of history. Times for the event have been steadily improving over the past century, however a distinct asymptote has been developing, approaching two hours. Is this – as was the case with the four-minute mile, Roger Bannister, and his contemporaries – somewhat of a psychological barrier? One that will succumb to the efforts of many as soon as the first intrepid athlete breaks through the resistance. Or is this a more formidable obstacle, one that is at odds with human physiology?

Many would side with the latter argument, until in May 2017, Nike staged the Breaking2 project in Monza, Italy. Eliud Kipchoge of Kenya came so close to achieving just that. What many regarded as a moon shot: the combination of Eliud’s extraordinary talent, strength and mental fortitude, with Nike’s technology and their legion of exercise scientists, came so close to culminating in an achievement so many regarded as futuristic, if not impossible.

Although not ratified by the International Association of Athletics Federation (IAAF) as an official world record, Eliud’s magnificent attempt at covering the 42.195km in under two hours – which resulted in him finishing the marathon in two hours and twenty-five seconds, a full two minutes and thirty-two seconds faster than the official world record at the time – opened many people’s eyes to the imminent possibility of a sub-two-hour marathon.

Kipchoge was evidently ecstatic with his achievement in Monza, however, in the wake of the race it became clear that he was yet to fulfil his ambitions. Centre-stage was now to be Berlin – whose roads have played host to many world records in decades past – where Eliud had his eyes set on surpassing the official world record of 2:02:57 set by his compatriot Dennis Kimetto in the 2014 Berlin Marathon, as well as a date with destiny and another attempt at running the distance in under two hours.

Watching athletes such as Eliud compete in such events is simply breathtaking. Just the thought of running one kilometre at the pace set by the frontrunners in elite marathons has even seasoned runners quivering at the dread of the lactic acid infiltrating their muscles. The prospect of running forty-two of those kilometres consecutively just inconceivable. How is it that these runners come to be able to complete such astounding athletic feats? What kind of training must they put themselves through to perform at such an elite level?

In an effort to find answers to some of these questions, we decided to travel to Kenya in August 2017, seeking to observe Kipchoge and his counterparts in the lead-up to Berlin and shed light on the preparations that precede such a performance.

Kaptagat

“Jambo!” The friendly face of Franklin beamed at me as I exited Arrivals at Nairobi International Airport. We left towards Spring Valley and he started teaching me my first words of Swahili. We drove past some zebras just outside the airport, grazing in the fading light of the Kenyan dusk. I couldn’t wipe the grin off of my face.

My decision to visit Kenya was a last minute one, my European travel plans diverted as Matt invited me to join him in documenting Eliud’s preparation for Berlin. An opportunity to spend time in Kenya with some of the best runners in the world was not one I could turn down. The spontaneity of the trip meant I was completely uninformed on what to expect in Kenya. Everything I was seeing and experiencing was a curiosity.

The next morning, I returned to Nairobi airport to board a flight to join Matt in the west of the country. The short flight went smoothly, as we travelled over fields transitioning to savannah, and eventually the outskirts of the city of Eldoret. Kenya’s fifth largest city – with a population of around 300,000 – Eldoret is situated in the highlands of western Kenya, around 2100 meters above sea level. Downtown is busy, with traders selling their wares on the streets and bus-boys touting their routes to potential passengers. To uninitiated Westerners it all seemed a bit hectic and disorderly, but it rapidly became more normal, and by the end of our time in Kenya we knew to expect and accept the unexpected.

Kenya is a renowned hub for distance runners, and the vast majority of the nation’s world- class performers come from the western highlands, living and training in Eldoret and a series of small towns in the surrounding area: a high plateau bordering the Rift Valley. A quick drive out of the city, through a series of small villages, brought us to our destination – Kaptagat. Here we found our way to our accommodation for the month in Kaptagat Farm Stay.

Surrounded by fertile fields of maize threaded by a network of ochre-red dirt roads, Kaptagat appears to be no more than a small collection of houses with a couple of general stores. However, the humble appearance of the village belies the fact it plays host to the gruelling training of some of the world’s most impressive athletes.

As I said, the trip to Kenya was organised at the last minute and I had no idea what to expect upon arriving in the country. The whole premise of the trip – to document the training of Eliud and the athletes in Kaptagat area – came about based on the loose assertion, from one of the contacts Matt made whilst training with David Rudisha’s squad (800m world record holder), that if we arrived in Kaptagat with the intention of running, we would be welcomed by any and all of the squads in the area.

Hundreds of athletes come to Kaptagat and surrounding areas to try their luck at making it in long distance running; the depth of the talent in the area is phenomenal. Many of these athletes, despite running times that would rank them as top competitors in most countries, are not under management and struggle to eke out a living. Our accommodation was next to the Jobb Centre: a cluster of shops where locals bought vegetables and domestic supplies, and caught up with each other over a cup of porridge every evening. A group of such athletes were living adjacent to this area and, after inviting us to join their run the next day, gave us directions to the camp managed by Global Sports Management, where many of Eliud’s teammates were living.

Since the camp was only a couple of kilometres away, along the main road, we set off for an afternoon jog to acclimatise and see who we could meet there. After randomly running down several dirt roads in search of the camp, panting and struggling to maintain an easy pace due to the low levels of oxygen present at 2400 meters above sea level, a friendly local finally walked us there.

The gate of the compound was unassuming, a dirt path with ruts and puddles marking the route to the house where the squad was based. The house was quite small, and the only signs indicating that a group of athletes were there was the brightly coloured Nike equipment hanging out to dry.

Upon arriving unannounced, we were fortunate enough to be greeted by a few members of the squad who were relaxing following their second easy run of the day. They said that tomorrow, they would be doing their weekly long run, and invited us to join them. There was no sign of Eliud or any of the coaching or management staff, so we told the runners we would see them in the morning and started back towards the main road.

As we were approaching the gate a small white Toyota wagon pulled up and entered the driveway; as the vehicle approached we made out that it was Eliud inside! We became really excited as his arrival was very much unexpected. He pulled up beside us. After welcoming us to Kenya, to Kaptagat, and to the Global compound, he echoed the invitation for us to join the run the next morning: 6am sharp at the gate of the camp.

We realised that any attempt to keep pace with Eliud and the lead group would be a foolish one, as the run was going to be roughly 30km and we hadn’t yet acclimatised to the altitude. Although we weren’t sure what the pace would be, we assumed it would be very intense. With this in mind, we set out to source a motorbike in order to follow the session and collect some footage, as well as to time the splits that the group was running.

This proved to be no trouble at all. The first men we approached at the Jobb Centre were very excited about the prospect of US$5 in return for loaning out a motorbike for the morning. This was hardly surprising, considering many of the people we met in the area were subsistence farmers, and those who weren’t working their own land were often being paid US$1.5 for a full day of manual labour. In a manner we came to realise as being very typical of the Kenyan people, the men who delivered the bike to the farm-stay a couple hours later were very relaxed about the whole agreement, with no mention of any paperwork, identification or safety deposit.

After arranging our transportation for the following day, Matt and I settled in for a relaxed night, our first of many at Kaptagat Farm Stay.

Long Run

We arrived at the gates of the Global camp with the full moon still high above us. It was cold, there was a light drizzle of rain, the morning light was just starting to breach the horizon, no one was around. After some minutes, a few athletes arrived and began stretching outside the camp, we chatted with them about upcoming races (Singapore, Amsterdam, Nairobi...). Within five minutes a crowd of over twenty had congregated, awaiting the arrival of Eliud and the commencement of their weekly long workout run.

Kipchoge and several others exited the gates and formally greeted and shook hands with the gathered athletes. One of the athletes gave a briefing of the workout in Swahili. One can only assume it was an outline of the route and the level of intensity expected. “You’ve got that, Muzungu?” (‘white man’ in Swahili, similar to ‘gringo’ in Spanish) he asked Matt, who was joining the group for the first few kilometres as I followed on the motorbike. They set off at a slow pace to warm up, however I was really struggling to stick close to the group due to the large mud-filled ruts that littered the road.

Pace rapidly ramped up from 4:45 minutes in the first kilometre to the low three minutes per kilometre range within a few kilometres. Matt joined me on the bike once the pace really picked up, and the athletes began to string out in the wake of Kipchoge and a small group, all sub-2:10 marathoners. The roads improved somewhat, but the footing remained uneven. It was very uncommon to find a flat stretch longer than four-hundred metres. The hills were gentle and long. On this terrain, at over 2400 meters of elevation, we were astonished by the consistent intensity of the run, and by how comfortable the athletes appeared on terrain that would disrupt the rhythm of many other runners. The group surrounding Kipchoge gradually dwindled to three, as they raced through the maize fields, cruising past the half marathon mark in 69 minutes.

The pace dropped somewhat for the final ten kilometres, yet Eliud and the sole runner remaining still left us behind at the 28-kilometre mark as we got bogged in the mud: it took a few wrong turns to find them again. The pair made the long ascent of the hill leading up to the Global camp look effortless, as they finished their 30km run in just over one hour and forty minutes.

In the subsequent minutes a steady flow of athletes began arriving at the gates of the camp, where Eliud and his partner were stretching. The group gradually swelled, the guys were chatting and joking around with each other as they stretched out their legs. We were amazed by Eliud’s lack of flexibility – he could barely reach his fingers half way down his shins.

After a short time stretching as a group on the road outside, Eliud welcomed us into the camp and chatted with us as we walked up the long driveway, surrounded by fields of maize and cattle. He said he was feeling good. He looked so fresh, you would never have guessed he had just ran any more than five kilometres at a light jog. He said he was happy with how preparations were progressing for Berlin, but became bashful when we brought up his incredible performance at Monza a few months prior.

As we reached the camp Eliud began helping the guys fill up buckets with warm water to wash off after the workout. Showers are too cold at this early hour of the morning. We were welcomed into a small shelter at the back of the accommodation where sweet, milky tea (known in Kenya as chai), bananas and plain white bread were the post-workout sustenance. We spent about half an hour here with the group. They filled us in on aspects of their training and discussed the controversies emerging from the world championships in London, as well as the ongoing results of the recent Kenyan election.

The lifestyle of these athletes is something to behold; the simplicity of it is astounding. There were no post-workout recovery products, no supplements, not even a real warm- down routine. The athletes filed in from this extremely intense run, walked up the driveway to allow their legs to gently cool, splashed some water to wash off the sweat, and then sat down in a group to drink tea, throw around banter, and hang out with the squad. The camaraderie is palpable, and watching the “train hard, win easy” slogan of the athletes unfold in the flesh was truly impressive.

As the group began to disband we accompanied Eliud to his car. Despite his long history of international success, which has made him a very wealthy man in Kenya, he is very humble, and renowned for his frugality. Unlike some other Kenyan marathoners who have found success on the world stage, Eliud shies away from flaunting his money. As we spoke next to his small car, which paradoxically had “Breaking2 - 02:00:25 E.K.” and a large

Nike tick emblazoned across the rear windshield, he told us his plan for the rest of the day, and the next day, was recovery: an easy run in the morning, which we were of course welcome to join.

Recovery

Jogging through the dark, alongside the main road to Eldoret, we made our way to the gates of the Global camp by 6:15am, just in time to join Eliud and the rest of the squad for their recovery run. It had rained again overnight, and the mud was even worse than during the long run the day prior, caking to the soles of shoes and leaving the unsealed roads a slippery, dangerous mess.

The run was set to be around 18km. We set off at a gentle pace, sticking to the main, sealed road. The first kilometre took us around five minutes, cruising between the fields of maize, as the sun started to rise and the first workers appeared. The air was still crisp. It takes a while to warm up at this altitude. Matt and I were in shorts and singlets, however, the rest of the runners were in full tracksuits. The pace gradually increased to around 4:30min/km, and kept moving up towards 4:00min/km. As I was unacclimated to the altitude, and hadn’t been in training prior to the trip, I really started to feel the onset of fatigue as we sped up. In stark contrast, it was clear that none of the Kenyan athletes were labouring.

Running at over 2400 metres above sea level, the air pressure is significantly lower than at sea level. This means that each lungful of air contains less oxygen and the pressure driving the uptake of that oxygen in the alveoli of the lungs is diminished. Lethargy sets in earlier than normal; at what should be an easy pace muscles start to feel heavy and weak. Ravenous gasps of air still leave you feeling deprived of oxygen.

The human body has many mechanisms for compensating for these changes; primarily by releasing erythropoietin (EPO) from the kidneys (which stimulates the bone marrow to increase red blood cell production), as well as by augmenting the density of capillaries carrying blood (and oxygen) to the exercising muscles. However, these adaptations take time, and three days into our stay in Kaptagat I was by no means ready for this kind of exertion.

A life spent in these conditions means that the athletes are very well adapted to the altitude. The runners were very comfortable, keeping a light-hearted banter going as they ran. One of the younger runners, Benjamin, spoke with me for most of the session. He was only seventeen, but had already run a sub-29 minute 10,000m on track. He had moved from the region around Mount Elgon, near the Ugandan border, to train with the squad.

Matt and I asked about the climate, and whether the rainy season was grounds for considering training in a different region. This suggestion was laughed off by the athletes. Next, we questioned their attire. By this point, with the increasing temperature and increasing intensity of running, the athletes had built up a sweat, as had Matt and I. However, they insisted that running in tracksuits meant they weren’t cold when they started – cold seemingly being one of the strongest aversions held by all of the athletes – and that the profuse sweating during runs “keeps them light.” Notably, Eliud had run the entire thirty kilometres in a tracksuit top the previous day.

As the kilometres clocked over, the pace continued to build, and eventually we were running through the fields at 3:30-3:40min/km. By this point any semblance of conversation had stopped on my end, as I gasped for air and struggled to hold onto the back of the group. Benjamin dropped back to try to bring me back up with the rest of the runners. I politely panted my thanks but told him that I was done and that he should continue with the rest of the group. I slowed to a light jog, watching the pack disappear over the hill. Somewhat losing my way on the final few kilometres back to the camp, I eventually arrived to see the group in the same shelter at the back of the house. I gladly took some chai and sat down with the crew.

This session, which for me was a baptism of fire, was an approximation of what the squad did nearly every day that they didn’t have a ‘workout’. However, interestingly, the sessions predominantly are based on how the athletes feel. As we would discover through our stay in Kaptagat, these recovery sessions vary between 10km to 21km, and can be anything from a consistently slow pace of around 4:45min/km, to roughly what we had just experienced, with the pace greatly varying and building throughout the session.

Many athletes would also go out for late afternoon excursions on the roads, squeezing in a few extra easy kilometres. This loose planning was something that really struck us during our time with the group. Their typical schedule included workout sessions on Tuesday (track), Thursday (long run) and Saturday (fartlek/intervals). Many of the athletes are devoutly religious, hence Sundays are usually taken as a rest day.

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to ask any questions!

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