Of Cheating Snakes and New Running Routes – The Story of Nairobi Marathon 2013

Of Cheating Snakes and New Running Routes – The Story of Nairobi Marathon 2013

Cheating
“Jimama liziiiima linadanganywa na nyoka”, his eminence had said, to a congregation that responded by loud laughter.  Cardinal Njue, the Catholic Church's Archbishop of Nairobi was delivering a summon as the church prepared to give Holy Communion for the very first time to its new congregants on this second of November date.  It was a Saturday, my otherwise usual day of service, though I was in another church deep at the suburbs of Karen at the Resurrection gardens.  The Cardinal’s statement was in reference to the Adam and Eve story, and probably a warning to women not to be cheated by snakes – literally or figuratively.

All this was going on while my mind wondered about my Nairobi Marathon 2013 performance.  I had deliberately failed to write the blog story.  In fact, a colleague back at the office had voiced this omission loudly when I passed by his department immediately after the marathon,
“I have not seen the marathon story on your blog”
“Am buying time.  The new route needs a completely new story, which am working on,” I responded.
The truth was that I was not working on anything, I was just buying time, with good reason.
“You know,” he continued, “there is no marathon without the blog story.”
I also knew that there was no blog without the marathon.  Now that the event had occurred, I surely needed to do what was expected.

While the church continued with the rituals to usher in the new congregants, I continued to think about the marathon…

Good time
I write this almost one month since the marathon.  This is deliberate.  I wanted to know my run time on the new route before I can talk about it.  The certs are now out and I managed a 1.35.33 on the new 21.098km course.

The 2013 Nairobi Marathon was held on Sunday, October 27, 2013 on a new route.  The new route was not very bad.  In fact, the Ndakaini marathon route remains the route to beat.  I did not expect the new route to be unmanageable, having done the Ndakaini about one month prior.  When I was explaining the route to my running group, one month to due date, I remember telling them that this shall be a run of ‘many hills’.  My mail had indicated that…
“We shall run the (museum) hill then (upper) hill…”

Long run
I had quite a number of participants in my team this time around, thanks for the corporate sponsorship of fifty.  This was after three failed attempts to convince the management that runs are good for its staff.  I even managed to get an official mini-bus to transport the participants to and from the Nyayo stadium venue.  However, none of my team members dared the 42km run.  I did not dare it myself since I did not want to try this long run on a new route that I was not yet familiar with.

The run day had one of the best weathers – cool with the sun from afar.  I was almost in perfect shape, apart from the stomach that had decided to do a run with me.  In fact, I almost canceled my participation due to the condition of my tummy.  Nonetheless, I found myself on the 21km starting lineup that was flagged off at exactly 7.30am, thanks to a sudden relief that I experienced.

The first part of the run was nothing to write about.  We were just running opposite the direction of the last marathon.  The stretch from Nyayo to Haile Sellasie road loop, then Harambee avenue loop and finally University way loop was uneventful.  If anything, I was really running fast.  I recall hitting the 4km mark at 17minutes and 6km at 25minutes.  If I could maintain this pace, then I was capable of doing 18km in 1hr 15min and probably the last 3km in 15min.  That would mean a 1hr30min run – a new record by all accounts.

The hills
My dream of breaking a record was not to be.  The Museum Hill stretch then flyover took a good amount of my energy, even as my unstable stomach haunted me the whole stretch upto the 10km turning point at Parklands.  The return journey was a struggle but I maintained good pace and was not surprised to find myself doing the Parklands – UON route quite steadily, then the UON – Uhuru Park route at almost the same pace.  The Upper Hill was not that tough, as I soon found myself on Bunyala road with a right time to the stadium, just after the railway flyover.  I turned towards the stadium at about 1hr27min and was surely headed for a record when I saw the 18km marker!

This marker almost ended my run right there, outside the stadium.  I had thought that I would be running straight to the entrance of the stadium then to the stadium but that was not to be.  We were to go past the stadium towards Nairobi West, then back on Langata Road to Mombasa Road, then back to Langata Road to rejoin the route to the stadium.  It took sheer strength and willpower to tackle these last 3km.  I just finished the run in good time for my stubborn stomach to start on me.

Future plans
As we took photos with team members and congratulated each other for another run done, all agreed that that 18km marker was a mistake and the next route should finish straight at the stadium instead of being near yet so far from the finish line.  We also complained about the sponsor asking the runners to 'go digital today', as printed at the back of the running kits, yet our Analogue team aka ENG-thoners are quite comfortable where we were.  Isn't this coercion?  In reflection, I note that this route is not that bad and can be beaten in under 1.35, especially if you are ready for the surprise that the 18km marker presents.  On that note, I need to start preparing for the 42km on the new route, which is just the 21km augmented by another 21km on the Mombasa route double circuit.


Barack W. Wanjawa, Nairobi, Kenya, November 23, 2013

Ndakaini Marathon – Strategy fails from the start

Ndakaini Marathon – Strategy fails from the start

I have been asking myself some ten questions about Ndakaini Marathon 2013, held today, September 14, 2013.  The main issue is on my failed strategy on this maiden run during the 10th edition of the event.

1. Why did I decide to run the Ndakaini in 2013?
A – I have had excuses for the last nine years.  I finally ran short of excuses.  The main excuse was provision of transport to the venue, which the organizers solved by providing a bus from Nairobi city centre to Ndakaini and back.  The initial plan was to have the bus leave at 7.00am, I remember the lady at registration desk at Sarit confirming this, after I paid her the 500/= registration fees and an additional 600/= for transport.  However, an sms two days to the event changed the time to 6.00am reporting and 6.20am departure.  I was in town by 6.15am, missed the first bus that was filled as I got in, and finally left the city at 6.45am with the second bus.  Another two buses were on queue at Reinsurrance Plaza, even as we left in a 'Double M' branded bus.  The journey to Thika took about 50minutes, with an equal amount of time being taken to reach Ndakaini.  I came back with the same bus, leaving Ndakaini at 2.30pm and getting to Nairobi at 4.30pm.  Another reason is the conservation bit.  The Ndakaini dam supplies most of the water used in the city of Nairobi, over 60km away.  Conserving this resource assures the future of Nairobi, the largest city in East Africa.

2. How was the run?
A – This was the most difficult run ever.  I had early already declared the UNEP marathon held in February 2013 as the toughest, but that title has now changed hands, maybe forever.  This was the toughest run ever!  I would do a 42km at Nairobi anytime than face the course that is Ndakaini.  The run started at 8.32am, according to my chronometer.  This was after I had run an initial 1km from Nairobi Water Treatment plant Ndakaini, where we had parked, to the starting point, at Ndakaini market.  We faced the first hill on the first minute of the run back to Nairobi Water.  From there, we rushed downwards in twenty strides to face the second hill.  After that hill, we were facing the next and the next and the next.  How I managed a 1.44 finish time still amazes me.  How the mens winner took it in 1.04.47 (and 1.14.35 for the ladies champ) is sheer genius.  I had given up after third hill and thought I would be in for an over 2-hour run.

3. Describe the Ndakaini course.
A – Simple, a 21km uphill run, with over ten hills, one after another.

4. What kept me going
A – I had assumed the hilly run would be akin the ones I face during practice – 5 minute hill runs, followed by some 5-minute flat ground before facing another hill.  During practice, it is only the Kanyariri-Gitaru route, a 18km circuit, that comes close to challenging this scheme.  This one gives you 9km or uphill, then 9km of downhill.  Therefore, after the second Ndakaini hill, I hoped for some flat ground to regain by breadth, since I had given it my all, ready for some rest.  This turned out to be false.  Immediately after this second hill, a third one was introduced out of nowhere.  I convinced myself to survive the third (and hopefully last), then recover on the flat or downhill.  This did not happen.  After the third hill, a forth one came out of the bend and I could see athletes up there on the other side of the road.  I gave up, shattered the strategy, threw it down the stream that I crossed toward the forth hill and decide to ‘run for survival’.  I decided not to even worry about how long it would take.  That is what kept me going – just run to survive the otherwise imminent humiliation by this hilly course.  That meant not stopping for a walk, however slow my uphill run was.  My survival instinct kept me going hill after hill until the finish line.

5. Describe the finish
A – The finish was confusing.  We reached the starting point, assuming it was the finish line, with all the decorations and all.  However, the official urged us on, stating that the finish line is ahead.  Remember that we started on a hill and hence the finish kilometer turned out to be the same hill.  This was the most painful kilometer ever, ending at the Ndakaini Primary School.  At the finish line, we were asked to queue so that our names and runner numbers can be recorded again.  (Why do they insist on recording names once more, when they already have the registration records?)  We were supposed to be given position numbers.  This did not happen as they were finished before we arrived.  Apart from that, there was no much event at the finish line.

6. How was my hydration
A – Unfortunately, I failed to take much water during the course.  The trick of taking water requires a general flat terrain, where you can reduced your pace, recover your breath and take a sip.  For this course, it was impossible to take water.  The breathing was on the high and a sip would have result to chocking or would necessitate a complete stop.  The first time I took proper water was at the finish line, where I drained one litre of water in one go – strictly speaking, in three installment of 300ml, 500ml and 300ml.  I did not feel any relief and picked the next double of 300ml, though I took this more slowly.

7. Anything eventful
A – It was quite something stumbling upon Catherine Ndereba, one of the finest marathoners that Kenya has ever produced.  Her achievements and records are so big that I was in total awe as I saw her chatting with fellow athletes at the finish line.
“Can we take a photo with you?,” my colleague Harry asked her.  (Harry is in my marathoners team and is expecting a challenge between our institutional teams soon, just before we participate in the Nairobi International marathon on Sunday, October 27, 2013.  He also faced a failed strategy when he was forced to run with an injury.  He was the only other colleagues, apart from Moses, who is not quite in the team, who made it to Ndakaini.)
To our surprise, she responded, “Of course.  Where do we stand?”

And just as simple as that, we were having a photo moment with the best of the best.  I was amazed at her simplicity and down-to-earth nature despite big achievements.  But do not let this fool you.  Sample her accolades: A record 4-time Boston marathon winner, Two time marathon gold winner at World Championships, Two times marathon silver at Olympics, Two time Chicago marathon winner with one of them being World record.  Need I say more!

8. Whether I intend to participate in Ndakaini again
A – My sanity tells me a big NO.  However, five hours after the run, I find myself formulating new strategies to conquer this run.  That means that I shall go against my sanity and participate one more time, preferably next year, of course, with a new strategy, since the current one failed just at the starting line.

9. Would you advise the team to participate?
A – Sure, but with the following humble advise: you need to ensure that you can do at least 4 hill runs, each 10minutes long, before you decide to take the challenge.  Each of the Ndakaini runs – 5k, 10k and 21k have the inevitable continuous hills.  I would also advise a maiden 10km run, to sample the terrain, before graduating to the double-torture that is the 21km run.  You also need a strong spirit, yes strong spirit, not just mere physical strength.  Add to that a cool head, since being emotional would definitely get you out of the run.  Finally, in terms of logistics, you need to have private means of transport, since public transport cannot get you there in good time, unless you travel a day before the event.

10. Impressions of Ndakaini marathon
A – I was quite impressed with the organization of the event.  Water was available in 300ml bottles at all designated points, generally on 5km intervals.  We were also pleasantly surprised to have four sponge stations, fully stocked with quite some cool watered sponges.  This was my first time running on a course where sponges are provided.  I know they were meant to cool the body but am not sure if it did, simply because my mind had generally switched off.  However, I know for sure that these enabled me have a cool head, which in turn helped me finish the run.  Whether we shall ever get certificates of participation is another thing altogether.  Am now used to running without confirmation, after all, am still waiting for the Sotokoto one, three months down the line.  Come to think of it, even the UNEP marathon organizers are still withholding our certs.

In conclusion, make no mistake about it, Ndakaini marathon is actually and truly the "Toughest marathon in the world"

Barack W. Wanjawa, Nairobi, Kenya, Saturday, September 14, 2013

Running with the Belgian PM - quite a secure experience

Running with the Belgian PM - quite a secure experience

“This is the highest ranking European visitor since Kenyan elections 2013,” the organizer of the event, Ally Khan Sachu declared, as he welcomed Didier Reynders, the Deputy Prime Minister of Belgium, who also doubles as the Minister for Foreign Affairs.  To be politically correct, his other docket is ‘Minister of Foreign Affairs, Foreign Trade and European Affairs’.  Ally has a way to ensuring that a statement sinks.  I tend to think that he was so excited being next to such a dignitary that he even forgot to introduce the sessions with the usual, “Welcome to today’s session of Mindspeak”.  But who cares, we were holding our breath waiting for the main address.  I was looking forward to a presentation like none before.  I was already fixing my eyes on the big projector screens.

But strange things happen, and the first was this other guy standing with a Mac laptop on the aisle, just about 7 metres from the podium.  He was standing to the left of my sitting position, two rows from the podium, almost at the centre of the big room.  The guy with the Mac just stood there, laptop open, laptop screen facing the speaker and... just standing.  I could not make out what this was all about.  Could it be that this is one of those high level protocol things?  How can they just punish this poor guy by having him hold the 5kg of laptop in mid-air for that long?  A few faces in the room turned, followed by whispers.

Amid all the uncertainties, some answers started trickling in, when he finally, after about 10 minutes, moved with his laptop to the back of the room, whether the audio visual mixing table was located.  I glanced back, and could see a video display on the laptop screen.  He must have been capturing a video of the podium using the inbuilt laptop camera… but why would he do that?  Why would he have to hold the laptop?  Could he not get a laptop stand?  Could they not use better video capturing equipment or technology?  But there were already expensive looking camcorders, located at the front and back of the room - was this not enough, I have never been so confused.

Speech
A second oddity was the fact that the DPM did not have any presentation or notes.  He just stood up, walked to the podium and started talking.  I believe that being a diplomat must have enabled him to just have a speech within his system.  In fact, during Q&A, one member of the audience deliberately congratulated him on being “the only speaker without a speech”.  Lack of a written speech or presentation meant that he also could not speak for long, unless this was part of the script.  He was on the podium for a record 25 minutes.  All speakers during previous sessions ensured they utilized the one hour time slot allocated between 10.00am and 11.00am.  A Q&A session would ordinarily take the next hour.  Finishing early however gave the audience over one and a half hours of questions in this particular occasion.

And the audience did not disappoint, as they asked about anything they thought was worthy of a diplomatic redress.  The DPM did not disappoint either.  Most questions were on the role of Belgium in the DRC, one of the counties that they colonized in Africa, though an almost equal number was about the relationship between the EU and China.
“What is your view on China?”, someone asks bluntly.

University
The topic on the lack of skilled manpower generated some debate, with the CEO of Safaricom, Bob Collymore diving in and stating that, “Universities are getting out of date”.  While the audience was about to give a sigh of discontent, he added that, “Last year’s technology is not relevant this year”.  To ensure he remains the talk in town, he finalized, “… That is why not everybody should go to the university”

On democracy, the diplomat said that democracy should not only be stated, but must also be seen.  He drove this home by comparing the elections in the US where two candidates were vying for the top seat and those in China where there was one contestant.  However, by mentioning ‘China’ more than twenty times during his speech and answers, it was evident that this was a country worth paying close attention to.

Just around mid-day, the session came to an end and the podium once again was taken over by the men-in-black.  As we milled out of the five star hotel, we had a few moments to reflect on the events of the day, and how high level diplomats operate. 

Reflection… when I arrived, I noticed some smartly dressed gentlemen strategically positioned near each of the doors.  Of course, the promised breakfast was not available by 9.00am when I arrived.  Piled up cutlery alluded to a sumptuous breakfast earlier, but who could have benefited, if by nine there was nothing?  For a meeting whose reporting time was nine?  Could it be that our fellow stocks investors now come to these meetings at 8.00am?

Chicken
Reflections... In the meeting room, it was business unusual.  Ten minutes to ten, while the wiring of the audio-visual system was being finalized, three smartly dressed Kenyans moved to the podium and almost literally ripped the carpet apart, looking underneath for... for what?  As two of them crouched near the wires, to scrutinize them, a protrusion could clearly be seen forcing itself towards their backs from under their coats, just above the waist line.  That was the easiest “chicken leg” that one could ever notice.  It was that evident.  The observable trio also tested and looked through all doors and emergency exits.  With such a treat, it was apparent that this was high level function, even as the guests arrived about five minutes to ten.  The smartly dressed guys had surely every reason to be armed.

Back to the street, I mingled with the masses and soon was running into a matatu to carry me back to Central.  “Kwaheri, rudi tena,” the signboard read, as I lighted from the matatu and walked to my residence.  It was just another Saturday in mid-August and life was full of its usual Kenyan hustle.

WWB, Nairobi, Kenya, August 17, 2013

Sotokoto marathon 2013 – too much water

Sotokoto marathon 2013 – too much water

Collapsed
I just collapsed on the seat and momentarily dozed off.  I tried keeping my eyes open, but the eyelids were just too heavy, so I let them fall.  The cause of this state started one week ago, when I logged onto an online site and filled in a simple registration form, followed by an automatic charge of 1,050/= on my bank card.  Fast forward to two days ago, when I finalized the preparation by picking a running Tshirt, runner number 2917 and a carrying bag.

Last Friday, on the date of collecting the kit, the runners guide was missing from the package.  I notice this after travelling through town to Uhuru Gardens, where I was turned back to AutoExpress, just opposite the gardens, where Sotokoto had setup a registration centre.  Without the guide, I had a few questions that the attendant did not have answers:
“Where is the runners guide?,” I asked, after perusing the contents of the bag.
“They are not available”
“Not at all, or they are finished?”
The lady looked at me with puzzlement written all over her face, then, “Am not sure”
“Why are you here if you have no information?,” I felt like asking, but the more diplomatic question that came from my mouth was, “When does the run start?”
As if caught offguard, she looked up once more, from some scribbling that she was doing, in the process of registering another runner, then confirmed, “Am not sure”
I was already counting 10 to 1, and she could sense it.  So she added, “I think it shall start 6.30am”

Spoilt for choice
I have to give it to Sotokoto 2013 of Sunday, July 07, 2013 – the course was actually like a river bed, with water, water everywhere.  I was so hydrated that I had one of the best runs in a long time.  The weather was however chilly, forcing our body systems to take up a lot of energy to keep warm.  There were three runs on the cards – 5km juniors and family fun run, 10km open run and 21km main event.  The first run started about 8.30am, though the programme, which they gave us as we arrived at Uhuru Gardens for today’s run, indicated that this should have started at 7.15am.

At 8.45am, instead of the scheduled 8.00am, the 10km run was ‘gunned off’, by the Governor of Nairobi County, Dr. Kidero.  (It could not have been flagged off, since there was no flag - only a pistol on Kidero's hand).  The main even runners trooped immediately behind the disappearing sea of humanity in the 10k run, and started jostling for the vantage front line positions.  Threats of disqualification did not seem to move the athletes back to the starting line.  In fact the front runners attempted two false starts, much to the chagrin of the organizers.  With so much excitement in the air, the organizers somehow managed to push the athletes to the starting line, which was located just outside Uhuru Gardens gates on the main Langata road.  Without warning, the starting gun fired at 9.00am, forcing me to push the start button on my split timer.  I was at the back of the runners, who were not so many.  I would put a figure of about five hundred.

One trick you should learn as a runner is to study the map and formulate a running strategy.  I had gotten the runners guide in the morning and had fully studied the route.  It was generally downhill for the first 3km, then a gentle uphill to Nyayo stadium, then almost flat on Mombasa road upto the turning point at 10.5km mark.  Thereafter, the return route would generally be flat, until the last 3km of uphill to the finish line.  The strategy was to take a fairly fast, but comfortable run to the 10.5km mark, then try to maintain the pace back to Nyayo stadium then Mbagathi road roundabout.  The final 3km was uphill and needed willpower due to the lowered strength levels that would be expected after over one hour of run.

Running by the book
Alas, the run occurred as per strategy.  I left among the group at the back and started to quicken the pace, overtaking a good number of runners by Mbagathi roundabout.  By Nyayo stadium, the crowd had thinned out and it was a matter of keeping the pace and running your race.  The weather was cold, almost chilly.  Nonetheless, water is a must and I picked a 300ml bottle at almost every point, keeping the container at hand till the next water point where I could discard and get a replenishment.  However, the water points were just so many that I had to bypass some without a refill, since I still had my water bottle almost full.

This run has no timing chip.  Many runners did not do the 21km, in fact the only guaranteed distance was 10.5km, since we had to dip our hands into blue ink in some basins held by organizers at the 10.5km turning point, just near Cabanas.  I did the ink dip and U turn at a split time of 0.44.00.  There was nothing eventful about the last half of the run, just a torturous stretch of 3km to the finish line.  With each passing ‘k’, the body starting getting fatigue.  Whenever I discarded an almost empty water bottle, I felt like having thrown away 5kg off my hand.  But I had to keep a water bottle handy at all times.  I therefore had to live with the ‘5kg’ load. 

Despite the good hydration, just like their Nairobi Marathon counterparts, Sotokoto failed to provide the distance markers.  In fact the only event was a board with the number 20km, just opposite Wilson Airport, which I interpreted as the 20km marker.  But this was a first – a packet of biscuits and another small pack of 200ml ‘yojus’ branded juice.  I stopped my timer at 1.32.00.

Win or nothing
Some entertainment followed – music, dance, skits, zangalewa dancers.  Finally, the winners were feted.  The 2013 honours went to: Valentine Kipketer, Georgina Rono and Purity Kimeto as the top three ladies, while Joseph Colins took the men’s title followed by Philemon Rono and Stephen Chemlany.  We were not given information on the final timing, but since I met the leading group on Mombasa road when I had clocked 0.33.00, I suspect the winner shall have a time of 1.00.00 to 1.03.00.  The top three were awarded cash prices, being 250k, 125k and 50k respectively.  The runner guide indicated that those in positions four to six would also be awarded 30k, 20k and 10k.

Even as more entertainment was unleashed, including some hard-hitting mchongoano, then an interesting Maasai dance, I finally had to leave the venue – with nothing!  Yes, Sotokoto had once again, in its 4th edition, since the inaugural run of 2009, failed to give runners anything to show for the run.  I even had to hand over the small piece of paper, with number 235 written on it, which I had been given upon hitting the finish line.  Surely Sotokoto, not even a certificate of participation if you cannot afford medals? 

I shook my head in disbelief, as I was jolted back to reality….

Mwisho
“Uthiru mwisho!, Uthiru mwisho!,” I heard from my subconscious, and struggled to open my eyes.  The matatu that had carried me from University Way had reached its final destination.  The makanga was asking passengers to disembark.
“Faster, faster,” he continued, as I struggled with lethargy to get out of the matatu.

How did I get here?  I started recalling how I woke up in the morning and travelled to town, then Uhuru Gardens, where I arrived by 7.00am.  I remember participating in a run.  I remember leaving Uhuru Gardens around 12.30pm.  Did I even pass by Nyayo Stadium to have a peek at my PO box?  I must have got another matatu to town, alighted at Haile Sellasie Avenue and walked past the seats of power – Office of the President on the right and Office of Deputy President on my left at Harambee avenue.  That is how I must have walked to University Way.

Wanjawa, W. B. – Nairobi, Kenya, Sunday, July 07, 2013

Running with an injury – not recommended

Running with an injury – not recommended

The lady behind me just collapsed on the pavement.  This was the fifth hour on the road.  I could feel her pain.  It was the many years of running experience and learning from being in a similar situation that kept me going.  This is how it came about. 

I left the house at 5.40am on Monday, March 4, 2013.  I assumed that the starting lineup would be settling at 6.00am as already advertised.  However, I could see the multitude flocking towards Uthiru roundabout, despite the morning being dark.  By the roundabout I could see the tens of people coming from the Ndumbo flyover.  I could not believe what I saw at the polling station.  There were hundreds of people running around, in utter confusion.  It was dark, the signs were not visible, and there was not one to tell anyone anything.

Lost
“Hi ni laini gani?,” I asked?
“Sijui?,” someone on the queue answered, “But am just queuing”
He was about position 100 on that particular queue.
I moved to the next queue, nobody knew nothing.  There was no signs.  Just “Polling station”.
Finally, it started making sense.  I could make out the direction signs with the names:
“WA - ZZ”
“R - V”
Finally after searching like forever, “AA - CH” (First name)
I joined the queue at about no. 30, only for ‘someone’ to tell us that the queue was ‘the other one’.

We left the queue in a hurry and ran to the next queue, forcing  us to jump over short hedges and barbed wire barriers, to join the next queue, already swelled.  We wanted to gain vantage on the new queue.  It is during the run to the next queue that I jumped over a barbed wire fence and landed on a rock.  My third left toe hid the rock so hard that I collapsed on the grass lawn, only to be pushed up with the struggling masses behind me.  I ended up on the next queue somehow, with over one hundred people ahead.

Long queue
The queue coincidentally lined just next to the washrooms, of the Primary school, which were surely in a bad state.  The stench was unbearable but we had no choice, we had to queue and await our turn to vote.  Before hitting the stench-filled region, the sobriety of the masses led to an agreement to relocate the queue to a more conducive region of the lawns that was a little bit far from the washrooms.  This helped, a little.

The queue was not moving.  I joined the queue about 5.55am and by 8.00am I had not moved an inch.  Then we faced a new struggle.  Some people joined the queue that I had left earlier and insisted that it was the genuine queue.  Those on the new queue protested loudly saying that they had been asked to leave the previous queue to the new one and therefore those on the old queue needed to relocate.  None of the occupants was bulging. 

Both queues were stretching in their hundreds and ending up at the same classroom door, to enter the polling room.  Shouts and name calling rented the air for some time, but finally, there was no agreement.  The final non-agreement was that both queues are maintained and served.  This new arrangements caused further delay.

Assumption
When I left the house in the morning, I had assumed that I would be through with this ‘run’ by ten.  I therefore did not take breakfast knowing very well that I would surely be done in four hours.  I had even put on open shoes, since I assumed the queue would be short and the elements would not come to bear.  I was wrong.  By ten, we had not made much movement on the queue.  Despite this slow motion, the runners were quite determined to endure the run.  It was going to be a long run.  By toe was also starting to hurt.  I could see it swollen.
“Where are you?  When do you expect to be back,” the daughter called.
“I have hardly moved.  At this rate, I shall be home around 4.00pm!,” I responded.

It was at eleven the lady behind me just collapsed.  The fall could have been fatal had she hit the concrete of the veranda.  She was saved by the cushion created by the sea of humanity around her collapse.
“Carry her to the shade,” someone suggested, even as two guys lifted her limp body to the nearby tree.
This elicited debate.
“Are they frustrating us deliberately?,” one asked.
“Is it that they do not want us to vote!,” someone else shouted.
“Riking,” someone else said.  He mean to say, “Rigging”

Stories
There is something that long hours of wait brings about.  And that is small talk and debate.  While in the initial hours everyone was on their own, just quiet and observant, the wait enabled the strangers to start talking.  The stories were many and diverse.  There was the story of Abunuwasi and how he hit the king with a ‘rungu’ after being given the ‘license to kill’ flies.  There was the story of how Kabarak High school regained the top position in KCSE exams 2012 as released last Friday, though I did not take this lightly since I have finalist interests there.  There was the story of how some tribes have amulet that can make two people get stuck.  The folks briefly talked about the English premier league, and the team that was beaten eight goals.  (Am not a fan of that league, if anything, my team is the Chuma Blue IFC, which plays at the annual LR International tournament.  I could therefore just listen in without much ado).  And in reaction to seeing the number of people jumping the queue due to their status, the story of “the most active names” just started…

“Yani hawa watu wa A, B, C ndio wanajua hii mambo kuliko wengine?,” someone asked.
“Why is it that all expectant ladies and those with young ones are only coming to this queue?”
That also brought the story of “babies for hire”, that some women were lending out their babies to be used by those who want to jump the queue.  To resolve this, someone on the queue suggested that the pinky of the children should also be marked by indelible ink after they vote.


Mid-day
Finally, at exactly noon, I went into the polling room.  The first activity was a left-thumb scan to confirm registration.  This displayed the picture I took during registration as a voter.  Thereafter, my ID was taken and checked on the voters role.  I also saw my full names and picture on the printed roll book.  The next phase was being handed six ballot papers and my ID, then shown the marking booth.  I quickly marked the six papers, then dropped them as per colour code onto the respective ballot boxes.  I was done in 3 minutes.  One official, just next to the door, marked my left pinky with indelible ink and I was out of the station – leaving behind a long queue.

One week later, the results are out, there is celebration and disappointment in equal measures, the indelible ink is still indelible, my toe has healed and I have planned a real lunch hour run today.  I have been out of the road since the UNEP marathon.  I just have to be back to the road, today.

On your own
After hitting the Nbumbo hill and finishing the run in 0.50.12, I realized that the road was still the same.  The hills were still as mean as before.  The sun was still was hot was never before.  The dusty created by the vehicles near the ‘tank’ was still chocking.  And the body still felt tired after the run.  I reflected on the pains of democracy, where 50% + 1 carries the day and the other 50% are left to fight another day.  I also reflected on my own field of marathon, where the winner takes the million and those of us who come in 1 hour later and not even an acknowledgment (though we finally get certificates and medals, so the loss has some gains).

Therefore, whichever of the eight candidates that you voted for, or did not, life continues.  Make no mistake, marathoners - you are on your own.  No one, I repeat, no one shall run your run – you have to do it yourself.  Get out of your celebration or mourning and take care of your race – it is in your own hands.

Wanjawa, Wamkaya Barack - Nairobi, Kenya, March 11, 2013

Running at 36k feet – the unwritten story

Running at 36k feet – the unwritten story
I was supposed to write this story two weeks ago, February 16 to be precise, but this did not happen.  Read the original script to discover why this story was not written after all…

Writing this at 36k feet was not my idea of a blog story, but when you are stuck with 2hours of nothing, you are tempted to get busy.

When I set off with fellow runners from the accommodation quarters at the outskirts of Addis, we had that first delay when a colleague decided that there was ‘no hurry in Africa’ and kept the six of us waiting for her in the chartered van.  That 20 minute delay passed unnoticed, or unvoiced, though you could see it on the faces that none was amused.

Waiting
We were kept waiting at the departure lounge for another hour – just waiting for the boarding time.  When the clock hit 0955hrs, on this Saturday morning, the impatient runners could not take it anymore, so they went ahead and queued on the check-in counter within the formal invitation.  Finally, with a queue already formed, the lady was forced to allow the people through, down from first floor to ground level, where a taxi way bus was waiting to move the bus load to the waiting plane.  Yet another check-in and I was finally seated at the extreme rear of the 767-300ER, the 33rd row.  I have never been this far, but two ‘bodyguardesses’ kept me tamed.  This bird was full to capacity – 237 passengers in total.

The 1040hours departure did not happen, until fifteen minutes later.  Ten minutes before departure, 16 overhead screens, 8 on either side of the aisle, each about 10inch size dropped from the overhead compartment.  We were subjected to 10 minutes of safety demonstrations, which went a long way to unsettle us – but life continues.

Temperatures
Takeoffs have a way of unnerving the body, but seating next to the end of the plane makes it... worse.  During the inflight three days before, a colleague had suggested that he preferred the rear seats.
“Hapa katikati si poa,” he had started, as we cruised at 35k feet on the 154-seater Boeing 737-800.  The vitals were indicating 10668m altitude, 811km per hour speed, 11km per hour headwind and an outside temperature of -44 degrees Centigrade.  The machine also indicated a ‘ground’ speed of 805kph.  Why would you need ground speed 10k up there in the air?  This trip took us just 1hr40min, having left JKIA at 1820 and reaching Bole at 2005.

Back to the discussion on comfortable sitting position, I wondered loudly, “I thought this is the best place, strategically between the vessels.”
I was referring to our almost mid-vessel position on the middle seats.
“From experience,” he continued, “The rear seats are the most comfortable.”
I now wished I was seated next to him so that I could pinch him hard, as the tossing-about began, 40 minutes into the return journey.  The 300 did not display any stats to the runners – maybe it was cruising in 4 digits and the folks would not handle the facts.  It was also gliding 10k feet above the path of the inbound bird three days ago.  This machine was mean!

Chicken
I know chicken when I taste one, and what we took was not chicken.  They labeled it as chicken, but this is the real world.  If horse meat can be labeled beef and consumed as such, then the chicken was even smaller to deal with.

Advise to runners – it is possible to run at 10km up there, but it has its challenges, including extreme temperatures and food that pretends to be the real thing.

Experiences
However, there are experiences that the running track exposed me to over the three day event that I must hereby mention:
Taj – honey beer that is as orange of orange juice: that was a lie, there is no way honey beer can be that colour.
Tradition – went to this Abyssinia place and they exposed us to their tradition. This I agree was traditional music, though I shall take some time to differentiate this from Somali music.  Their buffet however presented some familiar foods.
Left hand drive – I am already used to running on the left when here, so it takes the mind some getting used to, but it sinks in a few days (or never)
Amharic – let me not even try. They told me they have over 300 letters? You write as you pronounce, but they just write symbols!

Raw meat
I sat and watched in awe, every mouthful painful on me that the one before, as two colleagues feasted on raw meat both sides of my seat, during a lunch break.  On my right raw mince was served – red and spiced red.  On my left raw meat cubes – read and spiced.
“Want to try some?,” asked Gebre, directing a pinch or mince in my direction.
“Mmmhhhaa, sweet,” he continued, as he shoved the same pinch into his mouth.
“You should try it.  It makes you feel like a lion,” he finalized, fully enjoying himself.
I cringed, loosing my appetite for a moment.  I did not have anything ordered, since I failed for the second occasion to fest on injera.  I could not get used to the sourness of the tef pan cake.  I had asked for rice, but this was not available.  Ugali was definitely out of question.  Chapo neither.  Their alternative was ‘bread and spiced beef stew’.  What a day!

It is this raw meat issue that made me not write this article.

Wanjawa, Wamkaya Barack – Nairobi, March 3, 2013

UNEP marathon 2013 - the unending hills

UNEP marathon 2013 - the unending hills

Painful
I started participating in international marathons in 2007 and I can say this with authority, “The UNEP marathon course was the worst of them all.”  Imagine 21km of pure painful hilly run – with little or no water and the hottest sun in Nairobi!

I have only been on the road for less than four weeks – non continuous.  It usually takes 10-15 weeks of training to be ready for a 21k run.  I was therefore taking a big gamble by being here today.  The UNEP marathon also came at a ‘wrong time’.  We build up the marathon training schedule from February towards October.  We were therefore just getting started on stage 1 of the annual marathon preparation, when the UNEP marathon happened.

Call the Police
Many things went wrong with this marathon.  Online registrations were not acknowledged, the run schedules for the day were not published until one day prior, run numbers were not available until D-day and the run was scheduled to start at a late hour of 9.45am.  Who in their right minds schedules a long run after 9.30am?  With all that sun?  At least the organizers provided free Tshirts during re-registration on the run day.  But the genius in some participants led to their getting more than 2 Tshirts.  How did they do this?  They just went to the registration desk and registered twice or thrice – using different names or same names on different tables.  This led to the warning, “We shall call the Police on any participant having more than one Tshirt.  Those registered, please leave the registration tables immediately.  This is the final warning”

Long run
It is the norm that long runs should start first, followed by the shorter runs.  But the organizers had a different plan.  It was acceptable to start with the one lap juniors run, for under 10s at 8.45am (instead of 8.30am).  However, deciding to stage the 7.5km school children run at nine, and forcing us to wait until the first ten finishers were back to the stadium was not taken well.

Safety
At 9.30am they asked the 21km female runners to line up for their event.  Their run started at 9.35am.  They then asked the gents to line up for their run.
“Remember to keep safe, since we cannot guarantee your safety along the route,” the announcer said, as we jostled to the starting lineup, at the main field of Kenya Technical Training College (KTTC)

During the Nairobi International Marathon, the roads are usually closed and cleared for about 4 hours, meaning that we do not worry about any threat from vehicular traffic.  UNEP was telling us otherwise. 
“We need assurance of our safety,” an athlete shouts from the crowd.
“You should be better organized,” someone else says.
“We want the roads closed,” yet another.
“We need to be safe since we shall be voting next Monday,” I join the chorus.
The organizers refuse to bulge.  They repeat, “While on the road, take care of your safety.  It is not guaranteed.”

Promises
At 9.48am, the mens run starts.  Just a faint whistle and the run starts.
I started off slowly with George, a team mate from ICIPE.  We were together in one team before he defected to a new employer.  Thereafter, we have held joint runs to keep our teams in shape.  As we circled the field ready to face the remaining 20.6km, we promised ourselves to try to make it in 1.40 to 1.45.  If the course was ‘normal’, this was achievable.  I however knew that George was just being polite.  He is fast and always manages over ten minutes advantage over me for any run over 1 hour.  During practice back at the hilly Ndumboini terrain, he just sprints leaving us breathless and completely useless chasing after.

We had been promised some water in at least 4 stations –milestone 5k. 10k, 15k and 18k and also at the finishing point.  When we hit milestone 5k, the water was finished.  This was just after tackling the first major hill that stretched from UNEP towards Ruaka, where each leafy compound is well marked.  As I pass by, I could see ‘53 Ruaka’ on my left and ‘43 Ruaka’ on the opposite side.

No water
At the 5km point, we run enthusiastically in anticipation of water supply, only to find those supposed to issue the water helpless, raising their hands resignedly.  They usher us on.
“I shall not manage this marathon without water,” I tell George.
For the first time in 25 minutes, I manage to overtake him.  I believe he feels the same, though he says nothing.
A few paces later, he asks, “Should we turn back?”.  This is in reaction to the sight of four or so athletes who have decided to turn back.  They know that they cannot survive the dehydration.
“No, we have to keep going.  There could be a water point at 10k,” I encourage him on.

Hills
We just kept tackling hill after hill, until finally we found a water point that had some water supply.  I grab my 500ml bottle.  After grabbing his bottle, George is energized and off he goes.  He just sprints away and I never see him again for the next 10km.  Just as we leave Muthaiga area, a big billboard advert by Aga Khan shows two women.  As I pass by, I read, “Water bath”.  Later, when my mind is comprehending and interpreting the ad, I realize it was “birth”.

The hills just kept coming – you finish one only for it to lead straight into another hill.  The hills were so many I almost gave up on the run at some point.

More hills
I knew that Aga Khan hospital Parkland shall be on the 16km marker, since I had already studied the Google map of the run route the previous day.  Joining Limuru road at this point would lead us straight back to KTTC.  I was happy to welcome the last 25 minutes or so of pure torture – hot sun, no water, lots of hills.  The torture was worth it, it was the only way to the finishing line.  5km final run was better that what I had endured.  The stretch from City Park on Limuru Road, all the way back to the finish line was a series of two hills – each tougher than the other.

I do not know how I survived the last hill at the Canadian High Commission, but immediately thereafter, I could hear the public address at KTTC, meaning that I was just a few minutes away from the finish line – just a left turn after Kenol Petrol station, then another left to KTTC.

It was a relief to be through with the run as I stopped the timer at 1.44.45
At least I managed to run within the 1.40-1.45, but it was the worst run of my life.  So, how did the winner mange to do this in 1.04.46?

Wanjawa W. Barack, Nairobi, Sunday, February 24, 2013

Running is not easy – Maggy’s experience

Running is not easy – Maggy’s experience

I have had runs before – short runs, medium runs, long runs, false starts, successful starts etc.  That makes me assume that I have seen it all.  But wait a minute – today I did a long run (15km) to Mindspeak seminar at Nairobi’s Intercontinental Hotel – actually, most of the run was being done by the matatu!.  Let me reflect on expectations… some months ago, the organizers used to offer breakfast.  It is now history (though ‘breakfast will be served from 9.00am’ is still a footnote on the invitations).  The crowd is however becoming bigger.  I arrived at about ten minutes past nine and hardly got a seat on the second row second seat left side of the auditorium.  The position was not very vantage as I had to struggle to angle almost 90 degrees to see the podium.  Additionally, the bright spot lights meant to illuminate the podium blinded me most of the two hours.

Potential

Mindspeak is a forum for potential (and kinetic) investors to learn from their and others experiences.  Today we were learning from the experience of Maggy Ireri, the Managing Director of Ipsos Synovate.  Her talk informed us that I-S has representation in 84 countries worldwide.  Her run was a bit different from my routine lunch hour run down Kapenguria road.  Her run was ordinary.  She kept out of trouble during her childhood and school going ages.  Later, while doing her BEd at KU, she also ran her family supermarket business, earning good money.  (This was meant to encourage students to take hustling seriously)

Diligence, Discipline, Determination

It is not news that Maggy mentioned the three Ds (3D).  That is what she learned while running the supermart.  That is what I have learnt while tackling the tough hill on Kapenguria road during the lunch hour run, when the sun is overhead.  When it is hot.  When your body aches.  When you feel like fainting.  When there is no water.  When no one is there to urge you on but yourself.

While awing with nostalgia, something happens on the screen.  “Pursue opportunity and Money will follow,” a bullet point on one of her slides screams in bold black text on a yellow background.  This would have been invisible from my sitting position had it not been for the large projector screen just in front my sitting section.  A replica screen shows the same on the other side of the podium.

Improve

“Look for opportunities to do more,” a subsequent highlight indicates.  She relates this to her long stay at the research firm, which has changed ownership from Steadman to Synovate to Ipsos.  I try to relate this to the running track and remember my own advice to team members – increase the distance over time.  I urge them to improve from their 45min runs towards the 1hr mark over a period.  I encourage them to keep diaries and deliberately work towards improvement.

School

My analogy is cut short, when a new emphasized text pops onto the screen – “Academic qualifications are foundations but experience gives the edge”.  That is just it – you can go to the school of running all your life but you must hit the road for the lessons to count.  “That was easy,” I say to myself.  I happen to have uttered that loudly.  My colleague to the left, who was busy on Twitter, doing an update by the minute, smiles at me and wonders at my response to the speaker.  She gets the point and probably tweets my statement to the rest of the world.  My right hand colleague happens to have been employed at my current place sometime ago.  Earlier on we had exchanged pleasantries but were cut short when the session began.

“Work hard as failure is not an option” – another bold text on yellow states.  Before I give it a marathon angle, the next one follows almost immediately – “Opportunities come once in a lifetime”.  While am conjuring up a run story for this, Maggy tells the audience how her opportunity to get the MD position was almost lost by her reluctance.  A two-week soul searching break enabled her take the opportunity that would otherwise have been lost forever.

Opinion

We learn that opinion polling is not the main business of Ipsos.  With only 3% share, it is like a drop in the ocean compared to their key revenue avenues being Market research (57%) and Media research (40%).  While I crunch the numbers to put a meaning to them, Maggy states that, “Innovation distinguishes between a leader and a follower”.  She believes her firm is there to lead the rest of the pack.  This reminds me of that very first 42k marathon, when after waiting for anyone to volunteer to hit the ‘big’ run without success, I had to declare that “I shall lead the quest for gold in this run – whether I get followers or not”.  Of course, I did not get follows, but that did not stop me from flying the team flag in the 2008 run conquered in 3.26.27.

We are given a ‘run’(down) of the science of opinion polling.  Her polls have predicted the correct presidential election results in USA, France and Nigeria all in 2012.  At this point, the audience seems quite skeptical by this proclamation, so she drives the point home by, “Believe me, we did it.  We predicted correctly… and you know how bad Nigeria is”.  That calls for laughter.  Someone shouts, “Oga”.  Another one shouts, “Igwe”.  These just prolong the laughter.

To answer the unasked question of sample size, she volunteers that the France sample was only 1,000 respondents.  She concludes by saying that sample size does not matter.  The selection and distribution of sample is what matters. 

No cheques

During Q&A, a member of the audience asks what the poll results for UG were, given that she worked there for over five years earlier in her career.  She amuses all with “Kampala is a small village”.  Amidst some giggles from the masses, she now answers, “In UG, we do not do opinion polls”.  There is applause in the hall as murmurs fill the auditorium.  In responding to who sponsors her opinion polls, she admits that the range is wide.  However, “for politicians, we do not accept cheques – just cash upfront”.  That goes well with the audience since they respond in kind with sustained claps.  As happens at every Mindspeak, someone popped the big question on whether Maggy was single and available… she keeps us all guessing before affirming – receiving quite some crowd after the session had come to an end.

From her run experience, I learn that “running is not easy” – but it must be done.

Wanjawa WB, Nairobi, Kenya, Saturday, January 26, 2013

10 Laws of Diplomatic Running

10 Laws of Diplomatic Running

Today, I did my routine Monday run.  The course took me from the main gate towards the Uthiru roundabout, then Kabete Police to cross Waiyaki way on the Vet Lab road.  Thereafter, I ran towards Ndumboini down Kapenguria road to ‘tarmac’ and back the same route.

This 10k route is quite a challenge, especially when racing against the mid-day sun that just grills your whole body.  The hills do not make the run any better.

This was my experience…

As I crossed Waiyaki way, about 4min 30sec after start of the run, I remembered the meeting that I attended on September 1, 2012.  The ‘local investors’ in us were being given some tips on surviving the mucky world of the stock market.  The meeting was organized by Mindspeak – a business club for upcoming (and seasoned) investors.  Having lost about 80% of my stock value in a five year investment cycle, I was squarely in the latter group.

On this particular Saturday, the guest of honour was the British High Commissioner to Kenya, Dr. Christian Turner.  He gave a very interesting talk, simply titled, “10 Laws of Diplomacy”.  Though he presented and explained the ten using diplomacy as the theme, I have found that the are very applicable to the world of running as well.

The first law that rolled out of the projected presentation at the Intercontinental Hostel was…
1. Don't mistake expertise for experience
Sure, I thought for a moment, these vehicles that are zooming so fast beyond the 50km city speed limit can learn something from this law.  They may be experienced but the former is quite a different skill.  I finally manage to cross the highway as a matatu blares and flashes at me.

Later on at Ndumbo, on time check 11.40, I see two matatus and their crew competing for passengers – literally shouting each other down.  Their boom speakers literally turn the small centre into a disco theatre.  One of the matatus is playing reggae.  Someone in the matatu learns out of the windo in my approaching direction and shouts, “Jah love!”.  At this point I recall the second law…
2. Don't mistake knowledge for understanding

I pass by the diversion, to my right, that heads to UON Upper Kabete campus.  I recall that two years ago, we would jog through the campus and make our way through their second gate and somehow maneuver back to Ndumbo through UON Lower Kabete campus.  However, in their own wisdom or lack of, the institution stopped our access by posting no-nonsense sentries on both gates and demanding university IDs for all those passing through.  This has not stopped our runs though.  The third law is quite relevant, so I look in the direction of the Uni and utter the following, “3. Don't mistake access for influence”

I run downhill on Kapenguria road.  The vast UON land is now on my right.  The road is dusty and in need of serious repairs.  In fact it is impassible, judging from the few, if any, vehicles that are passing by.  Driving a vehicle on this road is exposing it to untold mechanical torture.  Eventually, as I near the end of the downhill, a white saloon car races from behind and overtakes me.  I can feel the strain on the suspensions and it wobbles dangerously, forcing me to step out of the wide road.  I know the driver was not privy to the fourth law….
4. Don't mistake the urgent for the important

After the river, I face the uphill that shall take me past the Kenya Animal Genetic Resources Centre, on my left, to allow me reach the tarmac some two minutes run ahead.  There is little or no traffic on this stretch too.  Opposite the Centre, Kabete Childrens Home is also quiet.  There is virtually no activity, but the fifth law gives me a caution…
5. Don't mistake activity for action

I make a U-turn at the tarmac at about 25.00 split time.  I recall the forthcoming Kenyan national elections and how 50-days from today, many things would have changed.  A new person shall be in State House for sure.  But will the world surely be at a standstill just because of this event?  The media and cyberspace is so full of the elections that you would imagine it must be world new – but ...
6. Don't mistake the universal for the local

Am now on the circuit back to the starting point.  From tarmac is a downhill stretch to ‘the tank’ before taking the uphill back to Ndumbo.  This hill is tough.  This is one of the reasons why team members avoid this route.  It takes me about ten minutes of pure hill run (and good pain) to conquer this section.  Why is this hill so unforgiving?  The answer...
7. Don't mistake the answer for the question

I find myself at the top of the hill by some sheer willpower.  At a split of 38.20, am likely to finish the run in good time – but not break a record.  The fastest run recorded in the last 3-months was a 0.47.36 on January 2, 2013.  It takes that long to break one’s own record.  Nonetheless, it is not easy to predict if this record is breakable or not.  My destination is clear, but the direction is another matter.  As I leave Ndumbo stage towards Vet loop, I recall the diplomat’s eighth law…
8. Don't mistake setting direction for knowing the destination

Vet loop back to the Waiyaki way takes about 5 minutes.  At the highway, the traffic is so intense that I am forced to stop and wait for the flow to ease before crossing over.  A lorry bearing posters of political aspirants passes by – loud music, noisy occupants and all.  They drop some fliers by the roadside – oblivious of their contribution to keeping the city ‘unclean’.  I mutter the ninth law to them, “9. Don't mistake publicity for diplomacy”

I finish the run in 0.50.44.  Back to the workplace, I savor the implications of law no. 10. Don't mistake humility for indifference
While Dr. Turner gave us the diplomatic view of his ten laws, I found them quite applicable on the jogging route today.  I believe that these laws should serve me well as I tackle the 2013 season.

Wanjawa, W. B. – Nairobi, January 14, 2013