Best. Run. Ever.

Running in Tanzania has been a source of many adventures…like our first run, when Stephanie and I missed the giant “JBFC” sign pointing us back to campus and instead cruised through town, where over a hundred people literally stopped to stare at us, the silence deafening. Or our second run, where we got caught in a monsoon with three toddlers. On another run, I was almost taken by force to share a meal with a family who lives along the road—they are serious about hospitality here. There was also the time we were enveloped in a group of…

a) 40 girls on their way home from our local public school

b) seven boys who were working on their farm and brought their garden hoes along

c) 17 children from the next town over, several carrying sacks of ugali

…giggling as they accompanied us for a kilometer or two.

Last night was the best run of all. Stephanie and I have started inviting the girls to join us on our late afternoon runs, and it’s been catching on slowly. When I invited three girls to come along, they agreed. I went to change and came back to ELEVEN girls waiting to go. My heart soared.

We start out, and Stephanie takes the lead with Nyamalwa, the two youngest runners (both named Neema), and Ima—who’s been our only “regular” until this point.

Following closely behind are Rachel, Nyamiss, and Vale. Further back are Zai, Jackie, Siwema and Reka. They take a shortcut and temporarily catch up, then fall behind again as we continue to “the trees” that mark our turn-around point. We collect the groups of girls as we start back.

We are running in flip-flops, football cleats, sandals, and dilapidated Crocs in hues of pink, green and purple.

We are running into the sunset, dodging piki-pikis and bicycles and herds of cattle. If you’re running toward 90 pointed horns, guess who wins?

We pass groups of women carrying buckets of water on their heads, families planting their crops for the rainy season, and groups of children waving from their front doors.

I get our middle group to the turn in the road, then go back for the last four. “Ok girls, we’ll run to the tree there and then we can walk until the next house.” Zai exaggerates her breathing, and I momentarily panic, thinking she might be asthmatic and we’re just now discovering it. She laughs and runs ahead.

When I round the corner at school and coasted down the hill to our dorms, I see all the girls waiting for us at a finish line they drew in the dirt at the bottom of the path. Everyone cheers as I cross, followed by four very tired, but very proud, girls. We give jubilant high fives all around and then begin stretching. There are groans for newly-used muscles and self-conscious giggling as we make the funny poses required for a good stretch.

I look around at these ambitious, adventurous, bold young women and soak in the moment. We make plans for a long run on Saturday morning. Some will attempt “The Run to Lugeye,” a full 13 kilometers.

And so, the JBFC Junior Olympic Training Team has been formed.