If you
want more proof of the diversity of holiday options in Africa, try this: dune
running, boxercise and interval training with Kenya’s Marion Jones.
Stephanie Debere pushes a sweat and explores the Watamu coast on a Wild Fitness
course.
RUN!” came
the cry, pushed out in between hard breaths. Through a tangle of tropical
vegetation I snatched blurred glimpses of my companions’ grimacing faces,
before focusing again on the dusty track, booby-trapped with protruding roots.
I sprinted as hard as possible, then burst into the clearing where the others
were and sank to my knees, amid general groans of relief and pain.
Despite the urgency, I wasn’t fleeing wild animals or angry people.
Rather, the time it took one of us to sprint a short course dictated the time
everyone else had to do their particular exercise before moving on to the next
one. This was circuit training Kenyan-style, among the vanilla creepers and
pepper plants of a spice and palm nursery: press-ups, lunges, burpees, weights,
triceps dips, crab-like galloping — with a cunning element of friendly
peer pressure thrown in, to make sure we sprinted rather than jogged. All part
of a normal afternoon on a Wild Fitness course.
From Baraka House, a
luxurious Arabic-style villa overlooking Watamu Beach (one of the world’s
top ten and part of a UN biosphere reserve), young Kenyan-born entrepreneur
Tara Wood runs courses offering “functional fitness”. Open to anyone
from confirmed couch potatoes to aspiring athletes, the courses run for two or
six weeks and aim to give a natural, animal-like health, based on the movements
that have ensured our survival as a species: squat, lunge, push, pull, bend,
twist, walk and run.
Gym machines, explained course leader Steve Bacot
— an ex-army fitness instructor with an encyclopaedic knowledge and
contagious enthusiasm — work muscle groups in isolation, with little
correlation to real life activities or sport. The course aims to improve the
balance and coordination needed for complex muscle sequences in daily living.
It improves the central nervous system and “core stability” (the
strength of the tube of muscle supporting our spines). “Deep muscles like
this are often neglected in workouts that favour visible surface muscles,”
explained Steve. “You should work out for functionality, not for your
six-pack.”
Daunting stuff. However the best way to describe the
course is as a lot more fun than it sounds. There was laughter throughout and
staff never forget that this is a holiday, not boot camp. “We analyse the
requirements of your lifestyle. Training should be a combination of what you
need, enjoy and can sustain,” says Tara.
Each morning we woke at
six and reached for electronic heart-rate monitors before even sitting up in
bed, to record our pulses — a simple measure of fitness (generally, the
lower, the better). After meeting downstairs, we tackled our “wobble
boards” (circular discs of wood a foot in diameter, with a tennis
ball-sized wooden knob on one side; the ball touches the ground, you try to
balance on the disc). This woke up our central nervous systems, improving our
coordination and preparing us for the session ahead.
My favourite
morning workout was boxercise on Baraka’s flat roof, overlooking an
expanse of palms and breaking waves under the rising sun. But no time for
gazing: after warming up, we bound our fists, donned boxing gloves and started
punching the pads held by our instructors. My younger brother might dispute
this, but I’ve never thrown hard punches before, and as well as being an
effective workout, it was enormous fun.
Knowledge is (physical) power,
and after abundant breakfasts of fruits, cereals and breads, we sprawled on fat
cushions beneath a thatched rooftop shelter, digesting surprisingly compelling
talks that took a scientific approach to training, nutrition and
well-being.
In the midday heat we headed for the dojo, a thatched
open-sided pagoda by the beach, washed over by the sounds of breaking waves and
monkeys and birds in the trees. Tara’s mother, Checkie, a masseuse and
relaxation expert, led us in meditation and creativity exercises designed to
promote what she appealingly calls “juicy living”. The unimpeded flow
of creative impulses and energy is an essential component of health, she
explained, and any scepticism we may have had withered under her assured calm.
Later she carefully worked our largely novice group up to demanding yoga
sessions, outstretching us in every direction as we grappled with the Plough,
Dog and Cobra poses.
After lunch we separated for down time, or for
individual sessions on balance and posture, feedback chats (courses are
adjusted accordingly) or a sublime full-body massage from Checkie. Late
afternoon exercises often accompanied an outing. At Che-Shale, we had a huge
sandy bay to ourselves for beach footy and volleyball. The truly committed did
masochistic sprints up the shifting sand dunes.
Courses are personally
tailored to be as gentle or demanding as you choose. There’s no pressure,
just encouragement and motivation to help you towards or beyond your goals.
This filtered down to make the atmosphere supportive rather than competitive
among our group of seven twenty- and thirty-somethings (though Wild Fitness is
suitable for all ages). “I would recommend it to anyone, whatever their
fitness,” enthused Lisa, a database expert, glowing with satisfaction
after having completed (contrary to her expectations) a 4km swim across a
mangrove-lined creek.
My concerns that we’d feel insulated here
proved misplaced: thanks to Tara’s insider knowledge and imagination, we
really got to know this exquisite area. We took a dhow cruise, visited a snake
farm and the medieval Swahili Gedi Ruins (a superb distraction before an 8km
forest run), watched turtles laying their eggs on the beach at midnight and
lunched African-style at a tree reserve established by locals. External
activities available include diving, game fishing and windsurfing.
Tara led us round the relaxed local bars, and we shimmied one night with
Giriana tribal dancers by firelight on the beach. Despite our exercise
programme we still couldn’t shake our hips half as fast as they could,
though this might have been due to the enormous barbecued grouper which
we’d eaten beforehand.
Nutrition is an important component of
Wild Fitness, but luckily “diet” meant eating the right things,
rather than eating not much. Based on fresh local seafood, tropical fruit and
vegetables, meals incorporated spicy East African flavours and soon had the
group requesting the recipes. Freshly baked bread and corn cakes accompanied
every meal, and fruit loaves kept us going mid-afternoon until substantial
three-course dinners. Wine and beer consumption was pretty feeble — due
more to communal exhaustion than piety.
As the course progressed, it
was rewarding to watch our heart-rates lower and to feel fitter. Still, I
couldn’t keep up with Hellen Kiprotich, an international sprinter known as
Kenya’s Marion Jones, when she joined us for interval training in a
clearing in the mangrove swamps one morning. Our karate session was also led by
a Kenyan team veteran, amid great hilarity as we attempted Bruce Lee-style
chops to commands shouted in a wonderful Afro-Japanese accent.
On days
like these you wonder how you could ever not exercise: what could be more fun,
more rewarding? But Tara’s team understands how hard it is to incorporate
fitness into pressurised daily lifestyles. They aim to give you skills and
knowledge that can be adapted to your circumstances, offering an email support
service and “top-up” weekends in Britain.
If ever proof were
needed that sub-Saharan Africa offers world-class tourism products beyond the
safari sphere, it lies here. Wild Fitness allows you to shed inhibitions, try
new activities and stretch both body and mind. You learn to punch and kick and
laugh a lot. And to make yourself go just that little bit faster when your
course-mates scream at you to “RUN!”
Stephanie Debere flew to
Kenya courtesy of Kenya Airways.
