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.