Moving to the Guardian for a while

Writing two blogs - this one and one for the Guardian - as well as a book, and several articles, all on the same thing, is getting a bit too confusing for my poor head. So I'm going to focus my blogging on the Guardian site for the next few months. Every Tuesday a new blog will appear here, so please bookmark the page if you want to keep up with my progress.

Bye for now. I will be back.

Iten: land of a thousand runners

I've started writing a blog on my trip to Kenya for the Guardian. The first piece, written before I left, was put up on the website last week: guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2011/jan/04 and the second piece went up today: guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2011/jan/10

Things have been pretty tough over the last few days. We made it to Iten, but finding a house to rent has not been easy. The houses that are available are very basic, but still not cheap when it's a mizungo [white person] wanting to rent them. We think we've agreed to rent a half-built bungalow from a politician. It has all been negotiated through two other people, so it's hard to know exactly what is going on. But one thing is for sure, the politician is not interested in negotiating. He has my main contact running scared at the moment because we dared to say we only wanted the house for two months, instead of the four months we initially mooted.

All the uncertainty has been tough on the children, on top of the constant attention they get and the fairly basic campsite we've been staying in. They keep telling me that they like England better. To give ourselves a little break, until our house is ready - on Friday, we think - we've moved to a more expensive "resort" for a few nights. It has a swimming pool with a waterfall. The loo has a seat. And the beds have lovely, soft, fluffy pillows. It's complete luxury.

As for the running, I've been out for three runs since I left Lewa, two with Kenyans. The pace has been very slow each time, which is allowing me to get used to the altitude, and to test out my sore calf - which feels better. The "barefoot" running style now feels completely natural to me, though I have to admit I've seen plenty of Kenyans running heel first in big Nike running shoes.

The key question, though, before I bin my theory of barefoot running being part of the Kenyan secret, is how do the best Kenyan runners run? There was an incredible cross-country race in Iten at the weekend and I was watching the feet closely. It was only a district race, but the standard of competition was probably higher than the world cross-country championships - there were world championship medalists finishing way down the field. Interestingly, though, nearly all of the top 50 or so athletes in each race were definitely running "barefoot style", or, to put it another way, were not landing heel first when they ran.

I briefly contemplated entering the race, but felt it was too soon. In hindsight, I would have definitely come last, probably by quite a long way. There was one English guy in the race, and I've just discovered he's also writing a blog about training in Kenya. He didn't come last, but he was a long, long way from the front.

Roaring lions and other creatures

Running through the bush in Lewa, without a lion in sight. Photograph: Marietta d'Erlanger

Last night we heard lions roaring as we were walking around outside, flashlights darting across the darkness. We ran to our tents, dived in, zipped up and then lay there listening to the terrifying but incredible sound as they continued to prowl and roar just yards away for the next hour or so.

All the wild animals are making it hard to run right now. We're staying with my sister-in-law, Jophie, and her husband, Alastair, a slow talking bushman who once stopped a charging elephant in its tracks just by roaring at it and waving his arms like a wildman. They live in tents in the bush. It's fairly rustic, but also quite luxurious. They have three staff working for them who keep the place ship-shape and cook lots of lovely food, and the girls get hot water bottles placed in their beds each night.

Just outside their camp is a short 200-metre loop on a dirt track, which Alastair says is relatively safe for running. Because it's open, and near the camp, it's less likely to be the resting place of a rhino, buffalo or lion, he says. Less likely. Not impossible.

Needing to get some running in to test my sore leg, I have been out around the track a couple of times - although after hearing the lions last night I'm not sure I'm brave enough to risk a third run.

The good news is that my calf seems to be better. Although it is still sore to touch, it doesn't complain when I run on it. Jophie organised a masseur from the nearby luxury safari camp to come and give me a massage and I think that helped. Or maybe it was just the altitude that was causing the problem. Either way, I'm now acclimatised and ready to roll. Marietta even shaved my head this morning, ready for battle. All I've got to do now is find me some runners.