November 25, 2008
It now five months since this happened. I am now able to talk about it:
Sunday, June 8, 2008: Woke up at 6.30am and hit the road. My jogging profile for the day would be a 40km route (give or take a km). I intended to do this in 3hr 30min. It is worth noting that most jogging routes around Nairobi (and generally in Kenya), have hills and slopes every km or so, hardly do you get a flat stretch of more than 200m. The route would take me from my residence via Naivasha road to Uthiru, then on Kapenguria road to ‘tarmac’, uphill to Wangige junction, back to ‘tarmac’ and onwards to Westlands, then a return trip to tarmac and back home.
I was in much better pace compared to previous runs. The morning weather was perfect for a run with hardly any sun nor was it cold – just perfect. From my residence, I hit ‘tarmac I’ in 0:35:00. I was even faster on the hilly stretch to Wangige junction which I did in 20min and back to ‘tarmac II’ on the downhill in only 17min. I conquered the 8.5km to Westlands in 43min and the return jog in 46min to hit ‘tarmac III’.
Then something just happened, when I made the turn at the tarmac junction to finalize the last 7km course I just stopped suddenly and involuntarily. I was surprised that ‘the body’ could actually stop itself without my consent! I tried to restart the run but my legs could not do a run. This was strange! It was the first time that my body had refused to obey me! Yet I still had the 7km to cover! The morning was not very hot, though the 9.30am sun was already escorting the church-goers to their destinations.
Accepting my fate, I decided to take a walk. The walk would really make me tired since I estimated that it would take me about 1hr 15min to reach home – but did I have a choice? I kept walking. While walking all was okay. I was not that tired and was able to figure out how I would spend my hour of walk. I headed to the river quite okay, even noticed the water streams that flow on both sides of the road just after ‘the tank’. After the tank, you are faced with an uphill stretch of about 2km to Ndumboini, then another 1km over the flyover to Uthiru.
Then another thing happened, I started loosing my focus and started seeing the road blurring – though I could see the brown dirt that makes the road still coloured before me. Somewhere mid-hill I remember veering to the side of the road and stepping into the left roadside bushy storm drain. I held onto the thickets, some piercing my hands, as I used them to support my now weak legs that were virtually collapsing. I took a short rest while standing holding onto the thickets. I gathered courage and stepped back to the road side off the thickets and continued walking. I did not maintain a straight path from there on. I wobbled to the right side of the road and landed on the thickets of that side where I fell and stayed down briefly. I remember how weak I felt even as I now started to loose my vision. The greenery colouring my side of the road started fading away. I got up again and more determined than before, I continued my walk towards Ndumboini. That is all that I remember.
How I walked the 1km to where I was, will remain one of those mysteries that may never be resolved. The feeling I had as I wobbled from one side of the road to the other is something worth patenting! You should never wish this on your worst enemy!!
I must have been laying in the roadside storm drain for about 10min, based on my time calculation between when I started walking and when I regained my vision. The first time I opened my eyes I saw some things passing by me. Some of the ‘things’ stopped nearby, then left. After closing and opening my eyes severally, I started recognizing the ‘things’ take shape in the form of people, who kept passing by. Occasionally, one or two people would stop by briefly and ask me if I was okay. I remember answering them that I was okay but just tired. I remained lying down partly inside the drain. I could also hear others confessing of ‘a drunk man on a Sunday morning who needs salvation from eternal damnation if he continues his drunken ways’, but I did not care – I was tired and needed a rest.
Finally, a duo of gentlemen approached my lying position and asked if I was okay. I responded with the now farmiliar, “Am okay, but tired from a long run”. They did not seem to believe me, since they did not go away. They resolved to get me out of my position to the opposite side of the road. I remember them saying that I was lying dangerously close to the road and I would rather rest on the other shady side of the road. “Okay”, I remember saying, as they lifted me each one holding my arms and helped me walk across the road. When they put me down I just went back to my lying position. By this time I was fully aware of my surroundings but too tired to get up.
“WWB, what are you doing here!”, Musa asked. That was quite a familiar voice. Musa was one of my colleagues whom we jogged with many a lunch time and evenings.
“Am just tired after a long run that has taken me 35km so far. Am just resting then shall walk home”, I answered.
He did not seem to believe that I would be walking home any time soon, so he just told me to keep resting.
Five minutes later he was helping me into a private vehicle that took me the 1km distance to the organization’s gate. The security officer took one look at me and summoned car hire services to take me to hospital. By that time I was fully recovered and assured the security officer that the vehicle would rather take me home, just 2km down Naivasha road. “Okay, go home but rather have the doctor confirm that you are fine”.
When I reached the house, I mixed one litre of orange juice and drained it down from the jug! I was totally fine and was just heading outside to tell the taxi driver to hit it, when Mrs. WWB said that I had better just speak to the doctor about what had happened. So, with hardly a change of clothes, we left by taxi to the hospital. By that time I was fine, energetic and jovial. In fact when the doctor saw me he doubted whether I was associated with the story he had just heard. Nonetheless he wrote ‘hypoglycemia’ on my medical record and send me to the lab for a blood test. This was at about noon, with the test results expected in 2 hours. Feeling good and on top of the world, we even left for lunch and were happy to be preparing to go home after we meet the doctor at 2pm, just for the formalities.
“Am admitting you”, the doctor said, thwarting all plans for the week ahead. How can I end up in an hospital bed just for jogging before breakfast and without water?
Do you need to hear the rest of the story, about the tests, the results and how it was to affect the Marathon 2008 results? Vote and look out.
Running
Running
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Nairobi International Marathon 2008 - Conquered
Sunday, October 26, 2008 - Nairobi, Kenya
Having been in hibernation whole day yesterday - I did not get out of the house till 7pm when I walked 100m to the supermarket to get something to eat - I knew that I had conserved all my energy for the big day. Before I went to bed at 10.30pm, I ensured that my race T-shirt had the race number affixed. The timing chip (champion-chip) was also affixed to my race shoes. I tried both the top and shoes and confirmed them okay.
3.30am - Woken up by the alarm clock. Gave my divine thanks and asked for race mercies. Made breakfast, took breakfast then back to bed by 3.50am. My reasoning was that by 7am race time I shall be through with all natural calls.
5.00am - woken up by a second alarm. This was now the real thing. Put on my official race T-shirt, champion-chipped-shoes and a pair of shorts that I had specifically selected for the event. The short select had enough pockets, which I now distributed my items into i.e. staff ID, national ID, medical insurance ID, some money, cellphone, stopwatch, kerchief, tissue.
5.30am - Left my residence for the 10minute walk to the main gate where we were to take the staff bus by 5.45am.
5.55am - Bus leaves the work place with an enthusiastic team. We take Naivasha road to Ngong road, then join Argwings Kodhek road by a diversion to Yaya Centre. We kept picking our colleagues through the route.
6.30am - We arrive at the stadium via Mbagathi road. We are lucky to be allowed to the stadium gate where we alight while the bus leaves for its designated parking. At Nyayo stadium the air is all about running. The 42km full marathon assembly area already has a sizable crowd, most with race numbers that confirm their participation in this event. All are warming up. I join them. Every so often I visit the restroom.
6.45am - All are asked to stand up in honour of the national anthem, which is played by brass band and transmitted to the whole stadium and its vicinity by public address system.
6.55am - Start of wheelchair race is 5minutes away. The 42km group is asked to assemble behind the wheelchair race participants. We are informed that we have 10 minutes to race time. The crowd is now large and there is some pushing as the athletes try to be on the front line. We are warned to stop pushing, but this warning is ignored.
7.00am - Wheelchair race begins. The marathoners are asked to gather at the starting line. Pushing and jostling continues. Athletes are warned to be patient but the adrenalin is running high and patience is no longer a virtue. They count down: 4min to go, then 3min, 2min, 1min.
7.05am - At the sound of gun shot, the full marathon race begins. Am somewhere among the last group of athletes. This does not bother me since I already have my race strategy etched in memory. I know that I will start a little slow for the first 3km, then settle to my desired pace for the rest of the course (hopefully).
7.10am - The run has started. We have left Nyayo stadium towards city centre but shall detour to Uhuru park before we tour the city. This course is about 10km from start point to the opposite side of the start point on our way back. I jog alongside my two colleagues. We had agreed to pace-set/pace-check each other since we had largely trained together.
8.00am - We are back to the opposite side of the start point. From here we have to go straight through Mombasa road, back to start point and repeat this circuit. I estimate this as a 32km course. I have calculated that I need to do the race at 5min per km, hence 3hr 30minute run to the finish line. My calculation also indicates that each length of the Mombasa road is about 8km. I take a first break about 4km into Mombasa road, after which I join my trio of runners. However, by the turning point, we have split our separate ways.
8.30am - Do the first turning at the extreme end of Mombasa road. These cheating Standard Chartered marathon organizers have failed to indicate any distance markers. We are largely running blind without knowing how far done and how far remains. I just estimate that I must have covered 18km in 1:25:24 this averages 4min 45sec per km. This is not too fast, so I convince myself that am at the right pace. Through out the run I keep collecting a 250ml water bottle at each water point, which are meant to be 5km apart.
9:07am - Am back to the starting point where there is a turn back to Mombasa road to repeat the circuit. After two hours of run am still feeling okay and ready to go. I have done this stretch in 37min. I hope to beat the 37min as I head back to the extreme turning point on the repeat. However, the repeat stretch start weighing heavy on me as I start feeling some leg pain. To add discouragement to the run, just one minute after I have made the turn to do the repeat, the 42km winner is heading for the stadium's finishing line. How can he be finishing when I still have 16km to go!
9:45am - I reach the extreme end turning point in 38min. A minute slower but I can feel that am getting tired and slowing down. My total run time is now 2:40:18. Just as am about to hit the turn and cross the champion-chip sensors, an athlete on my strides grabs my water bottle. She does whatever with it (I guess she takes some, spits some, pours some on her head). Just as permission-less as she had taken it, she hands back what has remained of it, just after we make the turn. Five minutes later, another athlete grabs what was left from my right hand and proceeds to drink it empty. I can understand his situation and am not complaining. I also start noting the fact that the last two 'water points' were actually 'no-water points'. No wonder! 15minutes after the turning point and an athletes that I have just overtaken tells me enthusiastically that "we shall meet there", as if we had a pact! I acknowledge and encourage him on even as I pass his now standstill frame.
These last 8km are torturous. My legs begin to pain while a stomach stitch persists for about 5minutes, forcing me to slow down before resuming my pace. I can see the stadium in the horizon somewhere. Just before the next water point (where there is water), I am about to overtake an athlete who must have forgotten to put on an attire (okay, a complete attire) down there. A street boy whistles out loudly and shouts 'wowi'. I overtake her just before taking a new water bottle. I remember a local musician having lamented that 'the world has a crack somewhere' considering the things that you see on planet earth - I make one look-back glance and agree with the musician (totally).
All the athletes that I overtake are just walking, talking and having fun. Am tempted to join them but I know that once I start walking my race shall surely be finished. In my mind am running from Westlands to 'tarmac', which I have done twice in the last six weeks and which is exactly 8.4km. I imagine passing the 4km mark at Ngecha and then the 5km at Telkom Exchange then the 6km mark near the Embassy then the 7km mark at Posta. My thoughts are interrupted when I hit the last roundabout on Mombasa road to join Langata road. I can see the stadium on the other side of the road, though I still have to tread the 500m to the turning point then the last 500m to the stadium and the final 400m in the stadium.
10:29am - I enter the stadium to run the 400m to the finish line. 100m on the track and I hear the cheers as the caps get waved in the air, at one point of the stadium. I notice my colleagues. I wave back for about 100m. They are not stopping the cheering anytime soon. The stadium is now focused to those 'crazy' cheering people, while I am encouraged to give the race the last ounce of energy left in my system.
10:31am - I cross the finish line as the champion-chip causes two beeps to be heard as I cross the last sensors. I stop my timer at 3:26:42. Am still good and does not feel any 'walls' or 'jammed' legs. Am handed a 200ml can of some energy drink, which I gulp in almost one go.
10:32am - I head outside the stadium to get my medal. At the 42km finishers tent, which is sparsely crowded, I oblige as an official cuts off the champion-chip from its strap on my right shoe. He hands me the small white gadget, which I hand over to the officials at the tent who in turn give me a medal. The medal has the wordings: 26 October 2008 Standard Chartered Nairobi Marathon 2008 - 42km finisher. The lower part of my race number, where we were required to write our names and telephone contacts, which had been deliberately perforated is also removed and retained.
10:35am - I move to the adjacent tent labeled '42km Finishers certificates'. I hand in my race number 208 in exchange for a certificate written: Finisher's Certificate. IAAF, AIMS, This is to certify that the above named with race number 208 finished the 42.195km Marathon Distance in the Standard Chartered Nairobi International Marathon with an official time of 3:26:27. The race was run from and to the Nyayo National Stadium in Nairobi on October 26 2008. Signed IAAF Race Director & Chairman Athletics Kenya. I notice logos of nine sponsors displayed just below 'Standard Chartered' & 'Seeing is Believing' logos.
Unlike last year, this year's certificate does not indicate the position of the runner. However, page 8 of the 'Runners Guide' says that 'The top 100 finishers will have the perforated tear off strips removed from their race numbers by an official'. That means that I was anywhere between no. 11 to 100. (The top ten finishers got cash awards ranging from KShs.1.5million to KShs.10,000. I did not get any money!)
10.40am - I re-enter the stadium and get up to the terraces where the cheering squad was. Just as I approach, the cheers for the next team member disturb the peace in the stadium as the caps are waved in the air once more. I even hear the 'waifa' slogan (am told it is 'wiper' pronounced in cheering language). After the colleague has crossed the finish line, I enjoy my moment of glory as I get congratulatory greetings from colleagues. We now await one more colleague and we are done. We enjoy endless supply of water and glucose as we wile away time.
Am I on course next year on October 25, 2009? Am not yet decided, but probably yes - to improve the timing. However, if opportunity to practice shall not be available, then no more long runs. Compared to the 21km that I did last year, the trick on the 42km lies on endurance, which you gain through practice - no practice no 42km (i.e. at least 12-week of intense practice, prior to the run - and consistent runs for one year before the 12-week countdown). You may recall the US$1,000 bill that preparation for this event cost me.
The author welcomes comments, questions and suggestions on the article
Having been in hibernation whole day yesterday - I did not get out of the house till 7pm when I walked 100m to the supermarket to get something to eat - I knew that I had conserved all my energy for the big day. Before I went to bed at 10.30pm, I ensured that my race T-shirt had the race number affixed. The timing chip (champion-chip) was also affixed to my race shoes. I tried both the top and shoes and confirmed them okay.
3.30am - Woken up by the alarm clock. Gave my divine thanks and asked for race mercies. Made breakfast, took breakfast then back to bed by 3.50am. My reasoning was that by 7am race time I shall be through with all natural calls.
5.00am - woken up by a second alarm. This was now the real thing. Put on my official race T-shirt, champion-chipped-shoes and a pair of shorts that I had specifically selected for the event. The short select had enough pockets, which I now distributed my items into i.e. staff ID, national ID, medical insurance ID, some money, cellphone, stopwatch, kerchief, tissue.
5.30am - Left my residence for the 10minute walk to the main gate where we were to take the staff bus by 5.45am.
5.55am - Bus leaves the work place with an enthusiastic team. We take Naivasha road to Ngong road, then join Argwings Kodhek road by a diversion to Yaya Centre. We kept picking our colleagues through the route.
6.30am - We arrive at the stadium via Mbagathi road. We are lucky to be allowed to the stadium gate where we alight while the bus leaves for its designated parking. At Nyayo stadium the air is all about running. The 42km full marathon assembly area already has a sizable crowd, most with race numbers that confirm their participation in this event. All are warming up. I join them. Every so often I visit the restroom.
6.45am - All are asked to stand up in honour of the national anthem, which is played by brass band and transmitted to the whole stadium and its vicinity by public address system.
6.55am - Start of wheelchair race is 5minutes away. The 42km group is asked to assemble behind the wheelchair race participants. We are informed that we have 10 minutes to race time. The crowd is now large and there is some pushing as the athletes try to be on the front line. We are warned to stop pushing, but this warning is ignored.
7.00am - Wheelchair race begins. The marathoners are asked to gather at the starting line. Pushing and jostling continues. Athletes are warned to be patient but the adrenalin is running high and patience is no longer a virtue. They count down: 4min to go, then 3min, 2min, 1min.
7.05am - At the sound of gun shot, the full marathon race begins. Am somewhere among the last group of athletes. This does not bother me since I already have my race strategy etched in memory. I know that I will start a little slow for the first 3km, then settle to my desired pace for the rest of the course (hopefully).
7.10am - The run has started. We have left Nyayo stadium towards city centre but shall detour to Uhuru park before we tour the city. This course is about 10km from start point to the opposite side of the start point on our way back. I jog alongside my two colleagues. We had agreed to pace-set/pace-check each other since we had largely trained together.
8.00am - We are back to the opposite side of the start point. From here we have to go straight through Mombasa road, back to start point and repeat this circuit. I estimate this as a 32km course. I have calculated that I need to do the race at 5min per km, hence 3hr 30minute run to the finish line. My calculation also indicates that each length of the Mombasa road is about 8km. I take a first break about 4km into Mombasa road, after which I join my trio of runners. However, by the turning point, we have split our separate ways.
8.30am - Do the first turning at the extreme end of Mombasa road. These cheating Standard Chartered marathon organizers have failed to indicate any distance markers. We are largely running blind without knowing how far done and how far remains. I just estimate that I must have covered 18km in 1:25:24 this averages 4min 45sec per km. This is not too fast, so I convince myself that am at the right pace. Through out the run I keep collecting a 250ml water bottle at each water point, which are meant to be 5km apart.
9:07am - Am back to the starting point where there is a turn back to Mombasa road to repeat the circuit. After two hours of run am still feeling okay and ready to go. I have done this stretch in 37min. I hope to beat the 37min as I head back to the extreme turning point on the repeat. However, the repeat stretch start weighing heavy on me as I start feeling some leg pain. To add discouragement to the run, just one minute after I have made the turn to do the repeat, the 42km winner is heading for the stadium's finishing line. How can he be finishing when I still have 16km to go!
9:45am - I reach the extreme end turning point in 38min. A minute slower but I can feel that am getting tired and slowing down. My total run time is now 2:40:18. Just as am about to hit the turn and cross the champion-chip sensors, an athlete on my strides grabs my water bottle. She does whatever with it (I guess she takes some, spits some, pours some on her head). Just as permission-less as she had taken it, she hands back what has remained of it, just after we make the turn. Five minutes later, another athlete grabs what was left from my right hand and proceeds to drink it empty. I can understand his situation and am not complaining. I also start noting the fact that the last two 'water points' were actually 'no-water points'. No wonder! 15minutes after the turning point and an athletes that I have just overtaken tells me enthusiastically that "we shall meet there", as if we had a pact! I acknowledge and encourage him on even as I pass his now standstill frame.
These last 8km are torturous. My legs begin to pain while a stomach stitch persists for about 5minutes, forcing me to slow down before resuming my pace. I can see the stadium in the horizon somewhere. Just before the next water point (where there is water), I am about to overtake an athlete who must have forgotten to put on an attire (okay, a complete attire) down there. A street boy whistles out loudly and shouts 'wowi'. I overtake her just before taking a new water bottle. I remember a local musician having lamented that 'the world has a crack somewhere' considering the things that you see on planet earth - I make one look-back glance and agree with the musician (totally).
All the athletes that I overtake are just walking, talking and having fun. Am tempted to join them but I know that once I start walking my race shall surely be finished. In my mind am running from Westlands to 'tarmac', which I have done twice in the last six weeks and which is exactly 8.4km. I imagine passing the 4km mark at Ngecha and then the 5km at Telkom Exchange then the 6km mark near the Embassy then the 7km mark at Posta. My thoughts are interrupted when I hit the last roundabout on Mombasa road to join Langata road. I can see the stadium on the other side of the road, though I still have to tread the 500m to the turning point then the last 500m to the stadium and the final 400m in the stadium.
10:29am - I enter the stadium to run the 400m to the finish line. 100m on the track and I hear the cheers as the caps get waved in the air, at one point of the stadium. I notice my colleagues. I wave back for about 100m. They are not stopping the cheering anytime soon. The stadium is now focused to those 'crazy' cheering people, while I am encouraged to give the race the last ounce of energy left in my system.
10:31am - I cross the finish line as the champion-chip causes two beeps to be heard as I cross the last sensors. I stop my timer at 3:26:42. Am still good and does not feel any 'walls' or 'jammed' legs. Am handed a 200ml can of some energy drink, which I gulp in almost one go.
10:32am - I head outside the stadium to get my medal. At the 42km finishers tent, which is sparsely crowded, I oblige as an official cuts off the champion-chip from its strap on my right shoe. He hands me the small white gadget, which I hand over to the officials at the tent who in turn give me a medal. The medal has the wordings: 26 October 2008 Standard Chartered Nairobi Marathon 2008 - 42km finisher. The lower part of my race number, where we were required to write our names and telephone contacts, which had been deliberately perforated is also removed and retained.
10:35am - I move to the adjacent tent labeled '42km Finishers certificates'. I hand in my race number 208 in exchange for a certificate written: Finisher's Certificate. IAAF, AIMS, This is to certify that the above named with race number 208 finished the 42.195km Marathon Distance in the Standard Chartered Nairobi International Marathon with an official time of 3:26:27. The race was run from and to the Nyayo National Stadium in Nairobi on October 26 2008. Signed IAAF Race Director & Chairman Athletics Kenya. I notice logos of nine sponsors displayed just below 'Standard Chartered' & 'Seeing is Believing' logos.
Unlike last year, this year's certificate does not indicate the position of the runner. However, page 8 of the 'Runners Guide' says that 'The top 100 finishers will have the perforated tear off strips removed from their race numbers by an official'. That means that I was anywhere between no. 11 to 100. (The top ten finishers got cash awards ranging from KShs.1.5million to KShs.10,000. I did not get any money!)
10.40am - I re-enter the stadium and get up to the terraces where the cheering squad was. Just as I approach, the cheers for the next team member disturb the peace in the stadium as the caps are waved in the air once more. I even hear the 'waifa' slogan (am told it is 'wiper' pronounced in cheering language). After the colleague has crossed the finish line, I enjoy my moment of glory as I get congratulatory greetings from colleagues. We now await one more colleague and we are done. We enjoy endless supply of water and glucose as we wile away time.
Am I on course next year on October 25, 2009? Am not yet decided, but probably yes - to improve the timing. However, if opportunity to practice shall not be available, then no more long runs. Compared to the 21km that I did last year, the trick on the 42km lies on endurance, which you gain through practice - no practice no 42km (i.e. at least 12-week of intense practice, prior to the run - and consistent runs for one year before the 12-week countdown). You may recall the US$1,000 bill that preparation for this event cost me.
The author welcomes comments, questions and suggestions on the article
Monday, October 6, 2008
The last long run - I did it, but....
Disclaimer - Do not attempt the described event at home. The author has had over 1 year of training but still hardly managed the event. The last time he attempted this event he ended up in an hospital bed with a 1,000 dollar bill.
Oct. 5, 2008
Our jogging schedule indicated that we needed to do the 'last long run' on the weekend of Oct. 4, 2008. I usually jog on Sundays, so I had set my last long one on Oct. 5, 2008. The long run was to be anything between 32km and 38km. I opted for the higher extreme.
The general route was meant to be: Uthiru-Naivasha road-KK/church then U-turn back to-Uthiru-then flyover-Vet Lab twist-Ndumboini-'Tarmac'-Wangige junction then U-turn back to 'Tarmac'-Proceed to Westlands then U-turn back to 'Tarmac'-Ndumboini and finish at Uthiru
4.45am - Woken up by alarm clock that I had placed 5m from the bed. Wise move since I had to wake up to 'shut it up' (Had it been near the bed, I would probably have just switched it off and went back to bed)
4.50am - Made and took breakfast. This move being part of the lessons learnt when I ended up in hospital in the June tragedy (but read elsewhere on the blog for this story)
5.00am - Went back to bed, realizing that I had nothing else to do. Set the alarm clock for 7.00am and kept it at its usual distance.
7.00am - Woken up a second time. Dressed up in my jogging attire and gathered my stuff i.e. two timers (just in case one failed), two half-litre bottles of water (just in case one failed) and mapped out the route by drawing it on paper.
7.20am - Left the house with my stuff and walked to Uthiru roundabout. A slight drizzle was starting to manifest.
7.30am - Started my run on Naivasha road towards Car wash all the way to the church (opposite KK), then turned back towards ILRI and to Uthiru roundabout.
Weather condition - drizzling, high humidity, low visibility
Observation - I met two other runners near the ILRI gate on may way back
7.56am - Headed towards fly over then Ndumboini. Did the 'twist' by taking the Vet Lab route. I had noticed signs of some part of the route being closed, so I did the route clockwise instead of the usual anticlockwise. I took the first short break near the Vet Labs.
Weather condition - light rains begin. The air is now quite thick with very low visibility. Am tempted to abort the run, however at Ndumboini after the twist, the light rain gives way to light drizzle as visibility and humidity improves as I head towards the river, tank and CAIS.
8.23am - Hit the tarmac I. The road is marked 8+400. By this time the water bottles are getting heavy and bothersome. Am tempted to throw them away. However, conventional wisdom dictates that I 'carry my burden'. Despite it being quite cold and not feeling thirsty at all, I still take two sips of water as I headed towards Mary Leakey junction. I continue with the tarmac as the weather gets worse. The drizzles resume and the chill starts hitting me. I start questioning my decision to continue the run.
I keep going while vehicles spray me with water from the wet tarmac, completely ignoring the 'Loose chippings - Speed limit 30kph' sign.
The length of run towards Wangige junction is hilly and unrelenting. I can sense that my pace has slightly reduced, but only the time(r) will tell.
At Kamuti-ini on the 11+000 mark, I overhear murmurs of 'mundu muguruki' only to turn and see a group of men sheltering on a nearby kiosk as a retreating hand is pointed in my direction. I assume that they are congratulating me for my good pace. I persist alongside the hill and the drizzle.
8.45am - Makes a U-turn at Wangige junction on the 12+250 mark. The drizzle has slightly reduced but is not ceasing. I take another sip from the bottle whose contents is now reducing. Am however far from taking a quarter litre. Am not even thirsty! Matatus keep spraying me as they go along in both directions. Am maintaining the right side of the road. At Kamuti-ini there is a matatu whose tout is calling for passengers. The loud music says 'nikilemewa nishike' (when am overwhelmed get hold of me)
Road profile - generally down hill upto 'Tarmac'
9.02am - I hit Tarmac II. I continue running on the right side of the road. The drizzle has stopped and visibility improved. I take a second short break. The rest of the route is generally downhill being Posta - Telkom exchange - Ngecha road junction - Loresho ridge. I meet the first group of runners on this stretch near Ngecha road - one runner, then four pairs, then another one. We exchange raised hands as we go our opposite ways. At this point I cross over and start running on the left.
At Loresho ridge am faced with a slightly steep hill towards Spring Valley police station. I take two sips of water from the bottle that is now about three-quarter drained before hitting the hill. By the end of the hill am reading the 2+500 while the road is wet, though there is no drizzle.
I start running on the right side after Spring Valley police station. I intend to be able to meet oncoming vehicles and avoid being splashed with muddy water from pot-holes. As if reading my mind, a minibus speeds towards me and ensures that it has splashed brown dirty water on my once white 'Stanchart marathon 2007' T-shirt. I shout loudly "Crazy Kenyan drivers!". Two policemen about 20m in front stiffen and adjust their AK-47s as they look back. I pass them 5 seconds later and they can see my soiled T-shirt. I guess they understand my disgust.
Before I know it, am crossing Peponi road and can see Sarit Centre staring me on the face. I jog to the roundabout at mark 0+000.
9.43am - I make a U-turn at the Lower Kabete road junction, just at the fence of Sarit Centre and head back the same route I had used. Am jogging on the right side of the road. The road profile in hilly all the way to Spring Valley police station. Before Spring Valley Caltex station, a white saloon flashes its bright lights at me as the driver greets me. I can not see clearly without my specs, but I still raise my hand back and continue my way. I drain the last bit of water from the first bottle and shove it into my left side shorts pocket. I immediately open the second bottle and sip as I come down Spring Valley police station heading towards Loresho ridge. This down hill stretch of about 1km is welcome relief after the uphill from Westlands. But lo! I thought too soon - am immediately faced by a tough killer hill from Loresho ridge towards Ngecha road. I agonizingly persist the uphill on this generally cold morning.
Am jogging at a steady pace and feeling nothing. I continue sipping at will.
Ngecha road to Posta is another hilly stretch. I persevere and keep at it.
Posta to 'Tarmac' is generally slow downhill stretch. Am relieved to just keep going.
10.28am - Am at Tarmac III. As I make the turn to CAIS, something hits my legs and I start feeling wobbly. The feeling last for about a minute then disappears. Thereafter I start feeling shock in my upper body with every step that I take. I sip in succession as I head to 'the tank' and river, but the shock of each step gets more painful with every step. I know that I can relieve this by stopping the run and taking a walk, but I can see my destination nearing. I remember reading about 'hitting the wall' as part of a long distance race encounter. Am guessing that I may have hit mine, though I do not seem to see any wall in my vicinity.
Am faced with the long steep hill that runs from the river to Ndumboini. Nothing in my body is improving, if anything, every step I take causes pain on the back of my legs, while the shock of every step is not ending. I persevere and continue hitting the wet hilly road. I see families of adults and children, Bibles in hand and excitement on their faces heading towards Ndumboini. I painfully pass them. I know that am now completely out of fuel and must be running on determination only.
After the hilly stretch, I pass by St. Raphael Catholic church to see worshipers being ushered to the church. The worshipers are singing the modified version of 'My hope is built on nothing less...'. I think they are singing in Kiswahili, however, am concentrating on finishing the race. The stepping shock has reduced and the pain on the back of the legs seems to be relieved. I take a few sips and the water bottle is now about three-quarter drained. A new surge of energy gets into my system and am revitalized as I get to the fly-over and down towards Uthiru roundabout. One minute after the roundabout and am at my final stop.
Both timers agree that I have ended the race in 3:21:48
10:52am - I have finished the race and still ready to go. However, on reaching the house I discover that my legs have a problem - I feel discomfort on both legs and therefore can not sit. When am standing the legs pain so much that I decide to do some stretches, which makes them even more painful. Am in so much discomfort that I do not know what to do - can't sit, can't stand, can't stretch, can't rest. I down a little of orange squash and force myself to sit with the discomfort. Few minutes later am back to normal.
Am I doing this race again? Of course not, unless you are reading 26th on the calender!
...
Oct. 5, 2008
Our jogging schedule indicated that we needed to do the 'last long run' on the weekend of Oct. 4, 2008. I usually jog on Sundays, so I had set my last long one on Oct. 5, 2008. The long run was to be anything between 32km and 38km. I opted for the higher extreme.
The general route was meant to be: Uthiru-Naivasha road-KK/church then U-turn back to-Uthiru-then flyover-Vet Lab twist-Ndumboini-'Tarmac'-Wangige junction then U-turn back to 'Tarmac'-Proceed to Westlands then U-turn back to 'Tarmac'-Ndumboini and finish at Uthiru
4.45am - Woken up by alarm clock that I had placed 5m from the bed. Wise move since I had to wake up to 'shut it up' (Had it been near the bed, I would probably have just switched it off and went back to bed)
4.50am - Made and took breakfast. This move being part of the lessons learnt when I ended up in hospital in the June tragedy (but read elsewhere on the blog for this story)
5.00am - Went back to bed, realizing that I had nothing else to do. Set the alarm clock for 7.00am and kept it at its usual distance.
7.00am - Woken up a second time. Dressed up in my jogging attire and gathered my stuff i.e. two timers (just in case one failed), two half-litre bottles of water (just in case one failed) and mapped out the route by drawing it on paper.
7.20am - Left the house with my stuff and walked to Uthiru roundabout. A slight drizzle was starting to manifest.
7.30am - Started my run on Naivasha road towards Car wash all the way to the church (opposite KK), then turned back towards ILRI and to Uthiru roundabout.
Weather condition - drizzling, high humidity, low visibility
Observation - I met two other runners near the ILRI gate on may way back
7.56am - Headed towards fly over then Ndumboini. Did the 'twist' by taking the Vet Lab route. I had noticed signs of some part of the route being closed, so I did the route clockwise instead of the usual anticlockwise. I took the first short break near the Vet Labs.
Weather condition - light rains begin. The air is now quite thick with very low visibility. Am tempted to abort the run, however at Ndumboini after the twist, the light rain gives way to light drizzle as visibility and humidity improves as I head towards the river, tank and CAIS.
8.23am - Hit the tarmac I. The road is marked 8+400. By this time the water bottles are getting heavy and bothersome. Am tempted to throw them away. However, conventional wisdom dictates that I 'carry my burden'. Despite it being quite cold and not feeling thirsty at all, I still take two sips of water as I headed towards Mary Leakey junction. I continue with the tarmac as the weather gets worse. The drizzles resume and the chill starts hitting me. I start questioning my decision to continue the run.
I keep going while vehicles spray me with water from the wet tarmac, completely ignoring the 'Loose chippings - Speed limit 30kph' sign.
The length of run towards Wangige junction is hilly and unrelenting. I can sense that my pace has slightly reduced, but only the time(r) will tell.
At Kamuti-ini on the 11+000 mark, I overhear murmurs of 'mundu muguruki' only to turn and see a group of men sheltering on a nearby kiosk as a retreating hand is pointed in my direction. I assume that they are congratulating me for my good pace. I persist alongside the hill and the drizzle.
8.45am - Makes a U-turn at Wangige junction on the 12+250 mark. The drizzle has slightly reduced but is not ceasing. I take another sip from the bottle whose contents is now reducing. Am however far from taking a quarter litre. Am not even thirsty! Matatus keep spraying me as they go along in both directions. Am maintaining the right side of the road. At Kamuti-ini there is a matatu whose tout is calling for passengers. The loud music says 'nikilemewa nishike' (when am overwhelmed get hold of me)
Road profile - generally down hill upto 'Tarmac'
9.02am - I hit Tarmac II. I continue running on the right side of the road. The drizzle has stopped and visibility improved. I take a second short break. The rest of the route is generally downhill being Posta - Telkom exchange - Ngecha road junction - Loresho ridge. I meet the first group of runners on this stretch near Ngecha road - one runner, then four pairs, then another one. We exchange raised hands as we go our opposite ways. At this point I cross over and start running on the left.
At Loresho ridge am faced with a slightly steep hill towards Spring Valley police station. I take two sips of water from the bottle that is now about three-quarter drained before hitting the hill. By the end of the hill am reading the 2+500 while the road is wet, though there is no drizzle.
I start running on the right side after Spring Valley police station. I intend to be able to meet oncoming vehicles and avoid being splashed with muddy water from pot-holes. As if reading my mind, a minibus speeds towards me and ensures that it has splashed brown dirty water on my once white 'Stanchart marathon 2007' T-shirt. I shout loudly "Crazy Kenyan drivers!". Two policemen about 20m in front stiffen and adjust their AK-47s as they look back. I pass them 5 seconds later and they can see my soiled T-shirt. I guess they understand my disgust.
Before I know it, am crossing Peponi road and can see Sarit Centre staring me on the face. I jog to the roundabout at mark 0+000.
9.43am - I make a U-turn at the Lower Kabete road junction, just at the fence of Sarit Centre and head back the same route I had used. Am jogging on the right side of the road. The road profile in hilly all the way to Spring Valley police station. Before Spring Valley Caltex station, a white saloon flashes its bright lights at me as the driver greets me. I can not see clearly without my specs, but I still raise my hand back and continue my way. I drain the last bit of water from the first bottle and shove it into my left side shorts pocket. I immediately open the second bottle and sip as I come down Spring Valley police station heading towards Loresho ridge. This down hill stretch of about 1km is welcome relief after the uphill from Westlands. But lo! I thought too soon - am immediately faced by a tough killer hill from Loresho ridge towards Ngecha road. I agonizingly persist the uphill on this generally cold morning.
Am jogging at a steady pace and feeling nothing. I continue sipping at will.
Ngecha road to Posta is another hilly stretch. I persevere and keep at it.
Posta to 'Tarmac' is generally slow downhill stretch. Am relieved to just keep going.
10.28am - Am at Tarmac III. As I make the turn to CAIS, something hits my legs and I start feeling wobbly. The feeling last for about a minute then disappears. Thereafter I start feeling shock in my upper body with every step that I take. I sip in succession as I head to 'the tank' and river, but the shock of each step gets more painful with every step. I know that I can relieve this by stopping the run and taking a walk, but I can see my destination nearing. I remember reading about 'hitting the wall' as part of a long distance race encounter. Am guessing that I may have hit mine, though I do not seem to see any wall in my vicinity.
Am faced with the long steep hill that runs from the river to Ndumboini. Nothing in my body is improving, if anything, every step I take causes pain on the back of my legs, while the shock of every step is not ending. I persevere and continue hitting the wet hilly road. I see families of adults and children, Bibles in hand and excitement on their faces heading towards Ndumboini. I painfully pass them. I know that am now completely out of fuel and must be running on determination only.
After the hilly stretch, I pass by St. Raphael Catholic church to see worshipers being ushered to the church. The worshipers are singing the modified version of 'My hope is built on nothing less...'. I think they are singing in Kiswahili, however, am concentrating on finishing the race. The stepping shock has reduced and the pain on the back of the legs seems to be relieved. I take a few sips and the water bottle is now about three-quarter drained. A new surge of energy gets into my system and am revitalized as I get to the fly-over and down towards Uthiru roundabout. One minute after the roundabout and am at my final stop.
Both timers agree that I have ended the race in 3:21:48
10:52am - I have finished the race and still ready to go. However, on reaching the house I discover that my legs have a problem - I feel discomfort on both legs and therefore can not sit. When am standing the legs pain so much that I decide to do some stretches, which makes them even more painful. Am in so much discomfort that I do not know what to do - can't sit, can't stand, can't stretch, can't rest. I down a little of orange squash and force myself to sit with the discomfort. Few minutes later am back to normal.
Am I doing this race again? Of course not, unless you are reading 26th on the calender!
...
Thursday, September 25, 2008
The '2' '6' - whats in a number?
What's in a number? One may be tempted to ask. I will shall give you a few clues though. I went out of my way with a simple question - "What does '2' and '6' mean?". The responses were as many as they were diverse, sample these:
1. The academic: what does '2' and '6' mean? That is a good question. '2' is a multiple of '6', so '2' and '6' would mean that one is a multiple of the other. However, you can make the reciprocal of '6' so that this new number becomes a multiple of '2'.
2. The streetwalker: simple, its '8'
3. The ICT guy: you can not 'and' the two numbers since they are not binary!
4. The kindergarten kid: (writes on paper), it is '26'.
5. Name-withheld: That is a trick question, whats the catch? Are you selling insurance?
And the winner is....
The kid from the 'children's garden'!
'2' and '6' turns out to be 26 or technically 26th. That is the day that all roads shall converge at the Kenyan city of Nairobi, at the Nyayo National Stadium for the Nairobi International Marathon 2008. This is one of the four events dubbed the 'greatest race on earth'.
Participants have the privilege of being among the few to participate in this 'greatest race'.
On such a date next month, we shall be assembled at the starting line at around 8.00am in the morning to participate with tens of thousands of other athletes in conquering this event.
There shall be three race categories on that day - the 10km, the 21km and the 42km runs. The route maps have just been released and there are many twists in this newly invented route, which breaks the traditional route maintained for the last few years. The previous route was single or double circuit on a 10km stretch of tarmac. The new route has a 10km 'tour of the city' where the run shall traverse at least 4 major streets, followed by the 10km circuit on straight tarmac. A variation of this basic formation shall result into the three race categories.
So mark your calendars on the '2' and '6' of October 2008 and watch out - yours truely shall be on the 42km event with a time of 'winner + 75% winner's time'. Tall order but it shall be a tall race so bring it now!
(The author is doing his first full marathon. Any suggestions are highly welcome - just post a comment below)
1. The academic: what does '2' and '6' mean? That is a good question. '2' is a multiple of '6', so '2' and '6' would mean that one is a multiple of the other. However, you can make the reciprocal of '6' so that this new number becomes a multiple of '2'.
2. The streetwalker: simple, its '8'
3. The ICT guy: you can not 'and' the two numbers since they are not binary!
4. The kindergarten kid: (writes on paper), it is '26'.
5. Name-withheld: That is a trick question, whats the catch? Are you selling insurance?
And the winner is....
The kid from the 'children's garden'!
'2' and '6' turns out to be 26 or technically 26th. That is the day that all roads shall converge at the Kenyan city of Nairobi, at the Nyayo National Stadium for the Nairobi International Marathon 2008. This is one of the four events dubbed the 'greatest race on earth'.
Participants have the privilege of being among the few to participate in this 'greatest race'.
On such a date next month, we shall be assembled at the starting line at around 8.00am in the morning to participate with tens of thousands of other athletes in conquering this event.
There shall be three race categories on that day - the 10km, the 21km and the 42km runs. The route maps have just been released and there are many twists in this newly invented route, which breaks the traditional route maintained for the last few years. The previous route was single or double circuit on a 10km stretch of tarmac. The new route has a 10km 'tour of the city' where the run shall traverse at least 4 major streets, followed by the 10km circuit on straight tarmac. A variation of this basic formation shall result into the three race categories.
So mark your calendars on the '2' and '6' of October 2008 and watch out - yours truely shall be on the 42km event with a time of 'winner + 75% winner's time'. Tall order but it shall be a tall race so bring it now!
(The author is doing his first full marathon. Any suggestions are highly welcome - just post a comment below)
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
WWB Online - really?
I have decided to surprise myself by having my online side available for all to see. This has not been as easy as I had envisaged. Several postponements later, I have finally put keyboard to blog pad and keyed this in. Feels strange but the urge to be online is too strong to resist. I would like to basically pass information (and get feedback) from all and sundry, with a view of being more in touch with my buddies.
Watch this space for:
- The '2' '6'
- Halted
- Down and almost out
- Proprietor
- Impossible but possible
etc...
Since there is no better time to do anything but now, I hereby officially declare this blogspot open.
Watch this space for:
- The '2' '6'
- Halted
- Down and almost out
- Proprietor
- Impossible but possible
etc...
Since there is no better time to do anything but now, I hereby officially declare this blogspot open.
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