East Africa's Army

When Tanzanian Miler Filbert Bayi first appeared in international meets three years ago, other runners viewed his style with disdain. Instead of pacing himself and saving a kick for the last quarter-mile, Bayi sprinted from the gun. His opponents, recalls Hurdler Tom Hill, "used to sit back at their old pace and say, 'Wow, this fool is going to drop dead on the third lap.' " Trouble was, Bayi never did. He began to make a habit of leaving astonished stars behind him. Last year at the Commonwealth Games in New Zealand, Bayi atomized Jim Ryun's seven-year-old 1,500-meter world record with a time of 3:32.2--equivalent to a 3:49.2 mile. This winter, in his debut on the U.S. indoor circuit, he has kept up the pressure. Although the smaller indoor ovals have forced him to run more cautiously, Bayi has swept all his races, including last week's AAU championships in New York City.

Bayi is not the first East African to run into the record books. Kenyan Kip Keino won the 1,500-meter gold medal in the 1968 Olympics, Fellow Countryman Ben Jipcho is history's second fastest miler, and Ugandan John Akii-bua holds the world record in the 400-meter hurdles. Now a veritable army of runners from East Africa is readying for the Montreal Olympics next year.

Bayi is the prototype. A streamlined 5 ft. 9 in., 135 Ibs., he glides along with the grace of a gazelle and the stamina of a steer. Unlike most long-distance runners, whose faces are studies in agony after the first lap, Bayi, 21, almost looks as if he is out for a leisurely Sunday lope; occasionally, he can be seen smiling faintly when his lead turns insurmountable. His only concessions to strain are frequent glances over his shoulder to see if anyone has kept up.

For other milers, his speed can be frightening. Outdoors, where he does not have to trim his pace, Bayi regularly runs the first half-mile in the low 1:50s. When Ryun broke the world record, he made the first half in 1:58.9. With his rocketing initial spurt, Bayi has changed the entire strategy of the mile. "We have to get up and go from the start now," says New Zealander Rod Dixon, who placed third in the 1,500 meters in Munich. Says Bayi modestly: "It's just my style. I'm not trying to psych anyone." Except himself. Last year, when he tried running with the pack, he was so rattled by the traffic that he fell and was spiked. Now he looks at the scar and says: "I am training only as a front runner."

Running for Fun. Back home, that training involves running twice a day in Dar es Salaam, where Bachelor Bayi is an air force lieutenant and flight mechanic. Mornings he runs cross-country, covering about ten miles. After working on the cargo planes, he heads out for two hours of sprints, ranging from 100 to 1,000 meters. His program was the suggestion of an East German track coach who advised Bayi during a visit to Tanzania two years ago.

Before that, Bayi, like most East African runners, had no formal coaching. He learned to run long distances in the fields around Karatu, his home town, located about 130 miles from the foot of Mount Kilimanjaro. For added sport, he dodged the leopards that hunted in the same area ("I had to throw stones at one once," says Bayi coolly. "He went his way, and I went mine"). In those days, he had "no program. I was just running for fun."

Today, as Kenya and Tanzania gear up for the Olympics, coaches are still in short supply--to say nothing of good tracks and equipment (some runners turn up at their first meet without track shoes). But running is no longer informal. Tanzania's ruling party has made sports a must for national development. Schoolchildren have to travel five to ten miles to school on foot, and they are required to run, not walk. Last month 72 aspiring young Olympians converged on Dar es Salaam for jobs, schooling and training by Tanzanian coaches.

In Kenya, despite the lack of a government program, at least four world-class competitors are already in the running for the distance medals waiting in Montreal. At the same time, Stephen Chepkwony, an army private, is preparing to challenge American supremacy in the 400-meter sprint. His 45.2 clocking in Australia in January is the fastest time in the world this year. Before the East Africans are finished, they may make Swahili the language of record in track.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.