The Uganda Marathon Goes Beyond The 26.2 Miles.
My legs are two dilapidated towers made of stale biscuit, crumbling beneath the weight of a snorting and rasping heffalump torso, composed of jiggling custard-like flesh and organs. My lungs are two crumpled air sacks gasping out for an extra molecule of oxygen like wheezing banshees. My throat is an arid desert, lifeless and dusty, aching for even the far-flung dream of a liquid to meander like a dribbling river into my stomach – ammonia, blended sewage, water – it doesn’t matter.
“The Beast” Hill, Uganda Marathon 2018
Such were my thoughts as I was limping up “The Beast” - a great devilish hill, less than halfway through the Uganda International Marathon in Masaka. It was during the summer of 2017, though I must admit, with shame and embarrassment, that I opted to run the less devastating 10km race. Still, jet-fuelled barefooted seven-year olds catapulted past me as the full marathon maniacs careened through rural villages and farms up towards a ridge that gazes over the town and glittering Lake Victoria. I’d spluttered my way to the top, hoping for the slightest zephyr of wind to push me over the pinnacle and send me cartwheeling down the hill, which would have been far easier than running. As I finally dragged myself over the baked dirt roads through the town, the finish line like a distant mirage, I saw butchers carving up cow carcasses – if I was to fall then, perhaps I deserved to be next. But by some miracle bestowed upon me, I finally crossed the line. I could only imagine the suffering and pain of those who attempted my 10 kilometre race more than four times over.
Charlie Kitcat, Martin Mubiru and Sarah Perrine, Uganda Marathon 2017
I signed up for the race by complete coincidence, only learning of it upon my arrival the day before. Initially, I was expecting Masaka to be quiet and peaceful, but swarms of wiry and athletic tourists filled the limited cafes and queued for Uganda’s favourite clock-themed snack, the ‘Rolex’ – a chapatti rolled and fried with eggs and vegetables. When I learnt of the marathon’s purpose and mission, I couldn’t possibly miss out, so I joined the waves of runners - local and international – up Masaka’s rolling and meandering Everest.
The Uganda Marathon represents a new and refreshing chapter in the life of international running races; fusing voluntourism and charity with adventure and a fairly recent athletic phenomenon, marathon tourism. In the last decade or so new races have been popping up across the globe, more ubiquitous than McDonalds. Now you can run 42km through North Korea’s capital, Pyongyang; traverse the looping Great Wall of China and even persevere through - 20°C in the ice and snow of the Antarctic. In these psychopaths’ defence, finishing a marathon in Antarctica is many runner’s final race for entry to the Seven Continents Club, an exclusive group of less than 800 people to who have completed 26.2 miles (or more) on every continent.
In Africa alone there are 75 separate marathons. The continent’s first race - the Comrades Ultra-Marathon - began in Durban in 1921, but since the dawn of the new millennium, opportunities to feel 26.2 miles of pain are multiplying. Now the options are endless: you can near collapse in Zambia as the monumental Victoria Falls shower you with cool mist; you can struggle under the watchful eye of Mount Kilimanjaro, or enjoy a rather relaxing and effortless jaunt with six marathons in six days across Morocco’s Sahara desert.
Though the Uganda Marathon isn’t the place for a personal best or languorous jog – as I said, the hills are disgustingly steep – the event itself is truly unique. The race is only a small piece of the pie.
So, for a week every May or June since 2015 (with one notable exception, of course), swathes of fundraising runners gather in Masaka for the challenge. Normally, or so I’ve heard, the week before a race is for resting, loading up with carbohydrates and avoiding injuries. In Masaka, the week before the marathon is why runners gravitate to Masaka, like well-trained bees to honey.
Kampala, the capital city of Uganda
On arrival, runners are immediately plunged into Ugandan culture with educational tours, local cooking classes and language lessons in Kampala, the country’s capital. Then after a stop at the equator and accommodation in the Athlete’s Village (a ranch-like settlement atop yet another long hill) the preparation for a memorable week truly commences.
As with all marathons, the fundraising element is essential. However, with this race, your money skips the middleman’s salary, and near-on every penny is invested without compromise. For two days you’re volunteering at the project you’ve chosen to support, helping develop business plans for local entrepreneurs or constructing piggeries or schoolhouses, rather than blindly investing in unproven projects. Sure – it’s somewhat fulfilling knowing you’ve made a difference for a charity, but putting in your own muscle to help the changes happen in front of your own eyes is a wildly different experience. Additionally, volunteers organise and compete in a KidsRunWild sports day for local schools with age-old classics like the egg and spoon race, fun runs and the ever-necessary sports day essential, the bouncy castle.
The United Nations Sustainable Development Goals
The founders of the marathon, four friends from England and Uganda, who started the event in 2014, made sure to prioritise effective investment. Therefore, throughout the year, they work with Ugandan social workers and an international trustee board to ensure the projects invested in are sustainable, impactful and aligned with a carbon neutral philosophy and the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals for 2030. This could be female empowerment programs, primary school or water projects, all of which change year to year.
Frankly, it has done – dare I say it - bloody well. Since the first race in 2015, it has raised over £700,000 and has since become the most lucrative charity event in Ugandan history. Each runner has raised an average of £2,650 with the Masaka economy reaping the rewards of outside exposure and foreign investment. Local safari companies benefit with many of the runners venturing on trips to see gorillas in southern Uganda, to the lions in Queen Elizabeth National Park in the west, or to thrill-seeking bungee jumping and white water rafting on Jinja’s Nile river.
‘You never know what sights you'll see on the Uganda Marathon.’ Instagram: @uganda_marathon, 2018
The event’s success bloomed almost out of nowhere, with only 60 international runners competing in 2015. However with runners sharing campaigns on social media, partnerships with major international charities and companies, and the Ugandan government’s support, around 10,000 runners (local and international) competed in 2019. The event’s award for ‘Best International Event’ winner from Runner’s World in 2016, features in Red Bull’s ‘9 Best Marathons in the World’ and ‘Top 50 Adventures in the World’ and a nomination for 2017’s ‘Best for Poverty Reduction’ at the World Responsible Tourism Awards have helped spread the word too.
Of course, the race did not take place this year, but plans are already in place for June 2021. As with every worldwide recession, the most vulnerable are set to face the most turbulent time over the next few months. Nevertheless, beyond the lasting impact of effective fundraising in Masaka, the event has set a precedent for other voluntourism races around the world. As people harbour stronger desires to see their money invested wisely and sustainably, other events would be shrewd to use the same model.
Sure, one could grow a moustache or run a few miles on flat concreted roads, but ultimately, struggling up some hill like ‘The Beast’, after seeing the direct benefits of straight-to-pocket fundraising will always be more precious. I imagine these sentiments will continue to persevere and blossom as soon as we can escape lockdown, hop on a flight, then run an arduous 42 kilometres in a town like Masaka.
But if like me, you’re made of panna cotta, I’d definitely recommend a little bit of training first.
