Situated at 2,400 metres above sea level, Iten, a small town in the heart of Kenya, has become a famous running Mecca. The city considers itself the “Home of Champions”, and indeed, everything here is labelled “Champions”: The shoe and the souvenir store, the barbershop, the guesthouse. There’s no such thing as a supermarket in Iten, but the local running shop offers shirts designed by British designer Stella McCartney and Olympic medal­ists stop in the street for a chat with visitors passing by. Apart from that, Iten is a sleepy town. “I can really focus here. I run, rest, eat ... repeat,” Julien says. “It’s perfect for me.”

Angry young man
Julien Wanders grew up in Geneva, but never felt at home there. “I was always an outsider. I was angry a lot of the time, and when I first visited Iten, my stress level immediately dropped. I found an inner peace here that I’ve never known in Switzerland. My goal has always been to just run, live simply, and not pre­tend that I am somebody I’m not.  Moving to Kenya has calmed me.”  Wanders took up athletics when he was 6, and decided to become a pro­fessional runner at the age of 15. Dur­ing high school, he researched Kenyan running culture. “That’s when I learned about Iten for the first time,” he recounts. “Without even seeing the place once, I immediately knew that I wanted to move there. But of course I couldn’t tell that to my parents! So, the first time I visited only for a month, and I trained with the Kenyans.” Julien was 18 at that time. 

Julien found these first few weeks fulfilling, but also challenging. He shared a basic accommodation with a Kenyan run­ning mate. They had to draw water from a well, elec­tricity was scarce and they ate the same meals every day. He missed speaking French, and he missed cheese and chocolate. During this first visit, he also exhaust­ed himself in training to a point where he became almost depressed. “When I went home, my parents were worried about me,” he says. “And then I confessed that I planned to move to Kenya permanently. They are both musicians, and I’m lucky that they’ve accepted my need to live a life that, by Swiss standards, is unusual."

"Sometimes I feel like I’m a kid again, unlearning the limits in my mind. I remember that I’m actually free to do whatever I want.” Wanders and his girlfriend Kolly have recently moved to a more spacious apartment. “Kolly convinced me to buy a couch, furniture, a TV ... It’s nice, actually. I even brought an espresso machine from Switzerland. But if I were alone, I’d probably own only a bed and some running shoes. I’m a minimalist at heart,” Wanders says.

Survival
Julien has a muscular, yet delicate body. He’s quiet and shy around people he doesn’t know. Before each session, like a tense racehorse, he withdraws even more, he separates from the group and doesn’t interact with anyone. It’s only after training that he relaxes. He seems to be driven by a force deep within himself, and he races with fury. At first, Wanders trained with various athletes, but a couple of years ago, he started seeking out specific run­ners who would push him and thereby improve his per­formance. He founded his own group and has since grown close with many of his mates. “Running is teamwork: To train by yourself, every day, is impossible, mentally.” Wanders’ coach sends him weekly schedules from Switzerland, and the men work them off diligently. Their group trains twice daily and is known as being one of the toughest in Iten. Julien has seen many runners join the group, then quietly disappear after a while. The ones that hang on re­port that their times have improved tremendously.

Wan­ders manages everything: He organises and pays for trans­portation, gas, water, track reservations – even when he’s competing abroad. Many of his fellow runners come from a poor background, and some don’t even have enough money for food. Wanders doesn’t want them to drop out just because they can’t afford the expenses involved.

Kol­ly, who grew up in Iten herself and went to school there with now world­famous runners, says: “Kenyans don’t run out of passion or even love for the sport. They run on hope: that one day, they will be discovered and make a liv­ing out of it.” In the high altitude, the men’s workouts are lung­crush­ingly, soul­destroyingly painful. During a tempo run, the guys spit, pant, snort, grunt. Their faces are contorted, as if they wanted to kill someone. At a pace of 3:01, they run along cornfieldsand huts; schoolkids by the side of the road try to keep up briefly. After 14 kilometres, the men stop, bend over, their bodies steaming in the cool morn­ing air. Their relief is palpable: They’ve survived yet an­other day. Unable to talk, they high ­five and change into dry clothes by the side of the road. Julien’s shirt is so wet with sweat that it drips.

Running is like breathing
Many of the runners confess to be ner­vous before the sessions. “It’s going to be tough today,” they say, resignation  in their voices, “but we’ll swallow the dose that Julien has prescribed for us.” They gesture knives slitting their throats.  They mimick being dead, their tongues sticking out. Julien never participates in this banter. For him, running is like breathing: He’d perish without it. “I don’t know anyone who’s as radical as me. Not in Kenya, not in my life,” he says. “It’s not easy, sometimes.”

Wanders’ mates are both inspired and intimidated by him. They look up to him, but they understand that his commit­ment to the sport is at a different level than theirs. “His whole mind is in train­ing. It’s hard for him to do anything that isn’t connected to running,” says Sylves­ter Kiptoo, Julien’s best friend, and an elite runner himself.  “He’s different, that one,” says Timothy Kipkorir Limo, a coach who’s known Wanders since his first visit. “His mental setup is that of a champion.” Wanders rarely takes a day off, and even during his annual vaca­tion, he works out every day. “I really love my life and my habits in Iten. I used to lose my Zen state whenever I left, but now I’m able to stay calm. I’m no longer wasting energy over small things; I’ve learned to live the same way anywhere. But when I’m more than two weeks away, I get homesick.”