Since I was a teenager, when I really picked up on running, I used to fantasies about running with the Kenyans. 

 

I sticked into my wall a picture of these black panther looking like athletes running in pack on incredibly red, dusty and hilly roads; and promised to myself that one day I was going to be there.

 

More than a decade passed before I could make my dream come true. 

 

It's Tuesday at 9.30am and I'm waiting for the start of the weekly Fartlek run in Iten, Kenya.

 

I'm the only muzungu (I.e. white man) around so the Kenyans look at me with interest. 

 

I greet some of them before the head start. They smile and answer back, Welcome to Kenya!

 

I distance myself from the group to acknowledge the miracle of what's happening. 

 

I bend down to touch the red soil that I've dreamt to see for so long, and hold it on the palm of my hands.

 

The workout starts but I choose to stay still and watch how the pack distances from the starting line. 

 

I can't stop to appreciate the beauty of seeing them run, the harmony of their movements and the perfect symphony of their feet touching the ground. 

 

In no time, they disappear out of side and I find myself there alone. I look around, smile and take a deep breath in.

 

I'm finally in Iten. I made it possible.

 

12th September 2023

Iten, Kenya.