Mater Hear Run 2016 - record breaking with a dream
Top 10
That I was a top 10 finisher in Mater Heart run 2016 is quite something. I did not plan for it though. It just happened. When I woke up at 4.50am to start my morning on this good Saturday May 21st morning, I was in fact contemplating on just doing a walk, instead of a run. After all, this is not a competitive run. All participants get a certificate of participation, even if they do not leave the confines of Nyayo stadium when the run starts.
I was just in the group of first 10 runners who squeezed past the matching brass band to get some space from the human chain setup by G4S guards just behind the band. This ‘squeezing out’ occurred out of the stadium on Aerodrome road, where I started my stopwatch at 8.05am. From there I did not look back. I found myself hitting Mombasa road with the first group of ten and maintained this by Haile Sallasie avenue turnoff. One athlete overtook me as we started the uphill towards Kenyatta hospital, however, after hitting the gravel for over 6 minutes, he gave up on the hill run and let me run past. My pace was good. The weather was good. It was just a good day for a good run.
There was a final twist as we reached Nyayo stadium to approach the finish. Instead of getting back to Aerodrome road past the Kenol petrol station and straight to the finish, the organizers decided that we had to run round the outer perimeter of the stadium back to where we started. This was all good, save for the fact that this is the same road where late starters were found starting the run. These were the school parties. This section was full. I had to almost collide with several children who were not even looking ahead as they started the run.
“Cheki huyo jamaa anamaliza,” a kid said loudly, pointing in my direction.
“Na sisi ndo tuna anza!,” someone among the group filing the tarmac, forcing me to run to the extreme, next to the perimeter fence, said.
I knew what was ahead of them… but did not join them in their conversation. I left the discovery them, without envy.
I faced a “what the?” moment just a few paces later, when I turned to get to the stadium and found these G4S bouncers forcing all to stop to be frisked (again)! Who in their right mind obstructs a runner heading to the finish line!
“You can’t be serious!,” I thought of saying. I did not say.
Momentarily I was at the stadium to do a final lap, clockwise, to the finishing point. I stopped the timer with a 0.37.18 and distance check of 8.13km.
Finish
It just hit me that I was in the top ten, when I saw some seven or so runners ahead of me, restrained by the barrier, warming down, and kind-of lining up next to someone with a mike. It did not take me long to observe that he was a member of KTN television crew. While still absorbing the shock of the moment, the reporter who was interviewing a runner next to me, just cleared with him and moved towards me, mic in hand and made introductory remarks.
“Mimi ni mwana habari wa KTN News na tunapeperusha matangazo ya Mater Heart Run laivu Kenya nzima,” he started.
I could not see a cameraman anywhere near him. That gave me the confidence to talk to him. Who wanted to be beamed Kenyawide (and worldwide, as they claim to have a presence online and in East Africa?). Isn’t it in the public domain that media can ‘destroy’ even the toughest?
“Hebu nieleze, ni matarisho gani uliyafanya ndiposa ukawa mmoja wa kumi bora kwa mashindano ya mwaka huu?”
After a serious of four of so questions, he let me go as he continued his interviews. Surprise hit me when I saw the camera man standing about 30m from the point of interview on an elevated platform inside the playing field.
“I saw you on live TV,” that was the first phone call that I got while on my way back from the stadium.
“You can have jokes when you mean to,” was my answer to the caller. Partly due to the reality check that had now downed on me and partly due to the effects of the Red bull.
But was this really real? I contemplated how the day turned out as I dozed off in the vehicle, provided by the employer, taking my team back home from the stadium. I dreamt back to two weeks ago…
Dinner table
“Hebu taste hii nini, eh, hii something. It tests funny,” Solomon said pushing the cocktail to the centre of the table where six had sat, three on either side, having dinner.
“Not me – I have just taken a Sambuca and it does not mix with that,” Mercy was the first to respond.
“No way! That and this?,” Jannet pointed to her glass, the bottom lined with things that looked like leaves, “… haiwesmake”
The three on one side of the table had had their say.
On the opposing side, Charles just shook his head in response.
“I don’t do milk,” I said. This was my observation of this whitish stuff in the cocktail glass. It has to be.
“Manze, we kunywa hiyo something. That is how a colada tastes,” Mercy was the final authority. The rest of us just stared, without experience.
Anyway, everyone had ordered their favourite and there was nobody tasting nobody else’s drink. Why then did each of us take their sweet time to scrutinize the menu and order?
“Nothing with alcohol,” Solomon had said loudly, in a manner of seeking inputs from those around the table. We have always known him as a teetotaler and does not say much. He is the type who can close his ears at the mention of body parts. It is impossible for him to say some words in the human atlas.
“Manze, tafuta cocktail,” Mercy had started him off.
“Take water!,” was an easy suggestion from yours truly, but seems like water is laced or what? Since this is a suggestion that all frowned at.
“Kunywa a colada. Manze hiyo ni cocktail ingine poa sana. I like it myself,” Mercy again.
All agreed. In fact, in terms of experience, I believe that she was the most experienced in the world of drinks, having sampled a wide variety. Some of the people on the table were sworn to some brands that the waiter just serves without asking.
“Basi, colada. Mimi niletee colada. Nonalcoholic,” Solomon made his final choice.
“Virgin,” the waiter said.
“What!?,” the six said almost simultaneously, to the shock of the waiter.
He composed himself and repeated, “Virgin. Virgin colada.”
“Ooohhh. Si ungesema! Usiseme ‘virgin’, sema ‘colada’,” Charles offered free advice.
Why again was Solomon offering his drink for tasting? Is it that we did not have our own drinks?
A la what?
It had been a daylong meeting, with a parked agenda. It was a real relief to finally break for the day with dinner and a drink. The dinner, described as ‘a la carte’ did not take long to arrive. It did, about 30 minutes after ordering. I was informed that it can be worse, depending on the establishment and what is ordered. For example, if you order fish, then make sure you can wait for them to fish. Do not start me on ordering mushrooms. Thinking about it, is the English language so poor in voc that there is no translation for ‘a la carte’?
We managed to discuss the drinks menu during small talk at this dinner table. On the page of cocktails:
‘Dirty Lemonade’ – do they expect you to drink that?
‘Saint and sinners’ – let me just leave it at that, no comment
‘Dawa’ – I like that
‘Kitandani’ – I don’t like that. Is it meant to knock you down to bed or you should take it while in bed or there is something that I am missing.
‘Virgin colada’ – they explained it as the drink without alcohol. It has an alcoholic sibling called ‘Pina’
There were others.
Shock was yet to hit us when we reviewed the next page on the cocktails menu. I cannot even fathom writing anything about them. Let me leave it at that and let it slip... No way, the temptation is just too much…
‘Screw driver’ – I will stick to froth!
‘Grenade’ – They can’t be serious. You can swallow that and live to tell the tale?
‘Screaming O’ – it is x-rated.
‘Slippery N’ – this may not be x, but it is not in the normal day time lingua.
V or P
When the time to settle the bill came, about thirty minutes after Solomon had all of a sudden decided to leave, even offering to give the gals a good night kiss! (shock on us by this offer), we were a bit surprised at the content and final amount. The amount was a bit higher than we had calculated over time (maybe we were a bit drunk and we could not calculate properly anymore) and the list of items partaken was different from what we had thought we had ordered over time (maybe we were surely drunk, not just a bit).
“Reconfirm this bill,” we beckoned the waiter as we bottomed-up our glasses/bottles, ready to leave.
“Reconfirmed, it is correct!,” was his response. He did not even move.
“No it is not!,” we started almost at once. Feeling excited and buoyed by the effect of fermented sugars in our bloodstream.
“We did not order no Pina colada,” Jannet pointed out the receipt to the waiter, “I told you this bill is wrong!,” she looked as excited as someone who had proved a point.
The waiter stepped back and went to the bar to reconfirm. He looked like one who did not like this apparent defeat.
Five minutes later, “I have confirmed it is correct,” he looked triumphant, like someone having the last laugh, “‘Virgin’ was not available, so we served ‘Pina’ instead”
“OMG!,” we all shouted!!
No wonder Solomon was talking trashy and buoyed like all the rest of us!!!
“Red bull!,” I heard from afar...
Someone shook me as I regained consciousness, “Give these colleagues a Red bull each. They did not take theirs while at the stadium,” Joan sitting next to me on the van nudged me.
The van had come to a stop and staff were already alighting. I was back home already. Dream and reality fighting for prevalence on my mind.
What a Mater Heart run 2016!!
Barack Wamkaya Wanjawa, Nairobi, Kenya, May 21, 2016
Top 10
That I was a top 10 finisher in Mater Heart run 2016 is quite something. I did not plan for it though. It just happened. When I woke up at 4.50am to start my morning on this good Saturday May 21st morning, I was in fact contemplating on just doing a walk, instead of a run. After all, this is not a competitive run. All participants get a certificate of participation, even if they do not leave the confines of Nyayo stadium when the run starts.
I was just in the group of first 10 runners who squeezed past the matching brass band to get some space from the human chain setup by G4S guards just behind the band. This ‘squeezing out’ occurred out of the stadium on Aerodrome road, where I started my stopwatch at 8.05am. From there I did not look back. I found myself hitting Mombasa road with the first group of ten and maintained this by Haile Sallasie avenue turnoff. One athlete overtook me as we started the uphill towards Kenyatta hospital, however, after hitting the gravel for over 6 minutes, he gave up on the hill run and let me run past. My pace was good. The weather was good. It was just a good day for a good run.
There was a final twist as we reached Nyayo stadium to approach the finish. Instead of getting back to Aerodrome road past the Kenol petrol station and straight to the finish, the organizers decided that we had to run round the outer perimeter of the stadium back to where we started. This was all good, save for the fact that this is the same road where late starters were found starting the run. These were the school parties. This section was full. I had to almost collide with several children who were not even looking ahead as they started the run.
“Cheki huyo jamaa anamaliza,” a kid said loudly, pointing in my direction.
“Na sisi ndo tuna anza!,” someone among the group filing the tarmac, forcing me to run to the extreme, next to the perimeter fence, said.
I knew what was ahead of them… but did not join them in their conversation. I left the discovery them, without envy.
I faced a “what the?” moment just a few paces later, when I turned to get to the stadium and found these G4S bouncers forcing all to stop to be frisked (again)! Who in their right mind obstructs a runner heading to the finish line!
“You can’t be serious!,” I thought of saying. I did not say.
Momentarily I was at the stadium to do a final lap, clockwise, to the finishing point. I stopped the timer with a 0.37.18 and distance check of 8.13km.
Finish
It just hit me that I was in the top ten, when I saw some seven or so runners ahead of me, restrained by the barrier, warming down, and kind-of lining up next to someone with a mike. It did not take me long to observe that he was a member of KTN television crew. While still absorbing the shock of the moment, the reporter who was interviewing a runner next to me, just cleared with him and moved towards me, mic in hand and made introductory remarks.
“Mimi ni mwana habari wa KTN News na tunapeperusha matangazo ya Mater Heart Run laivu Kenya nzima,” he started.
I could not see a cameraman anywhere near him. That gave me the confidence to talk to him. Who wanted to be beamed Kenyawide (and worldwide, as they claim to have a presence online and in East Africa?). Isn’t it in the public domain that media can ‘destroy’ even the toughest?
“Hebu nieleze, ni matarisho gani uliyafanya ndiposa ukawa mmoja wa kumi bora kwa mashindano ya mwaka huu?”
After a serious of four of so questions, he let me go as he continued his interviews. Surprise hit me when I saw the camera man standing about 30m from the point of interview on an elevated platform inside the playing field.
“I saw you on live TV,” that was the first phone call that I got while on my way back from the stadium.
“You can have jokes when you mean to,” was my answer to the caller. Partly due to the reality check that had now downed on me and partly due to the effects of the Red bull.
But was this really real? I contemplated how the day turned out as I dozed off in the vehicle, provided by the employer, taking my team back home from the stadium. I dreamt back to two weeks ago…
Dinner table
“Hebu taste hii nini, eh, hii something. It tests funny,” Solomon said pushing the cocktail to the centre of the table where six had sat, three on either side, having dinner.
“Not me – I have just taken a Sambuca and it does not mix with that,” Mercy was the first to respond.
“No way! That and this?,” Jannet pointed to her glass, the bottom lined with things that looked like leaves, “… haiwesmake”
The three on one side of the table had had their say.
On the opposing side, Charles just shook his head in response.
“I don’t do milk,” I said. This was my observation of this whitish stuff in the cocktail glass. It has to be.
“Manze, we kunywa hiyo something. That is how a colada tastes,” Mercy was the final authority. The rest of us just stared, without experience.
Anyway, everyone had ordered their favourite and there was nobody tasting nobody else’s drink. Why then did each of us take their sweet time to scrutinize the menu and order?
“Nothing with alcohol,” Solomon had said loudly, in a manner of seeking inputs from those around the table. We have always known him as a teetotaler and does not say much. He is the type who can close his ears at the mention of body parts. It is impossible for him to say some words in the human atlas.
“Manze, tafuta cocktail,” Mercy had started him off.
“Take water!,” was an easy suggestion from yours truly, but seems like water is laced or what? Since this is a suggestion that all frowned at.
“Kunywa a colada. Manze hiyo ni cocktail ingine poa sana. I like it myself,” Mercy again.
All agreed. In fact, in terms of experience, I believe that she was the most experienced in the world of drinks, having sampled a wide variety. Some of the people on the table were sworn to some brands that the waiter just serves without asking.
“Basi, colada. Mimi niletee colada. Nonalcoholic,” Solomon made his final choice.
“Virgin,” the waiter said.
“What!?,” the six said almost simultaneously, to the shock of the waiter.
He composed himself and repeated, “Virgin. Virgin colada.”
“Ooohhh. Si ungesema! Usiseme ‘virgin’, sema ‘colada’,” Charles offered free advice.
Why again was Solomon offering his drink for tasting? Is it that we did not have our own drinks?
A la what?
It had been a daylong meeting, with a parked agenda. It was a real relief to finally break for the day with dinner and a drink. The dinner, described as ‘a la carte’ did not take long to arrive. It did, about 30 minutes after ordering. I was informed that it can be worse, depending on the establishment and what is ordered. For example, if you order fish, then make sure you can wait for them to fish. Do not start me on ordering mushrooms. Thinking about it, is the English language so poor in voc that there is no translation for ‘a la carte’?
We managed to discuss the drinks menu during small talk at this dinner table. On the page of cocktails:
‘Dirty Lemonade’ – do they expect you to drink that?
‘Saint and sinners’ – let me just leave it at that, no comment
‘Dawa’ – I like that
‘Kitandani’ – I don’t like that. Is it meant to knock you down to bed or you should take it while in bed or there is something that I am missing.
‘Virgin colada’ – they explained it as the drink without alcohol. It has an alcoholic sibling called ‘Pina’
There were others.
Shock was yet to hit us when we reviewed the next page on the cocktails menu. I cannot even fathom writing anything about them. Let me leave it at that and let it slip... No way, the temptation is just too much…
‘Screw driver’ – I will stick to froth!
‘Grenade’ – They can’t be serious. You can swallow that and live to tell the tale?
‘Screaming O’ – it is x-rated.
‘Slippery N’ – this may not be x, but it is not in the normal day time lingua.
V or P
When the time to settle the bill came, about thirty minutes after Solomon had all of a sudden decided to leave, even offering to give the gals a good night kiss! (shock on us by this offer), we were a bit surprised at the content and final amount. The amount was a bit higher than we had calculated over time (maybe we were a bit drunk and we could not calculate properly anymore) and the list of items partaken was different from what we had thought we had ordered over time (maybe we were surely drunk, not just a bit).
“Reconfirm this bill,” we beckoned the waiter as we bottomed-up our glasses/bottles, ready to leave.
“Reconfirmed, it is correct!,” was his response. He did not even move.
“No it is not!,” we started almost at once. Feeling excited and buoyed by the effect of fermented sugars in our bloodstream.
“We did not order no Pina colada,” Jannet pointed out the receipt to the waiter, “I told you this bill is wrong!,” she looked as excited as someone who had proved a point.
The waiter stepped back and went to the bar to reconfirm. He looked like one who did not like this apparent defeat.
Five minutes later, “I have confirmed it is correct,” he looked triumphant, like someone having the last laugh, “‘Virgin’ was not available, so we served ‘Pina’ instead”
“OMG!,” we all shouted!!
No wonder Solomon was talking trashy and buoyed like all the rest of us!!!
“Red bull!,” I heard from afar...
Someone shook me as I regained consciousness, “Give these colleagues a Red bull each. They did not take theirs while at the stadium,” Joan sitting next to me on the van nudged me.
The van had come to a stop and staff were already alighting. I was back home already. Dream and reality fighting for prevalence on my mind.
What a Mater Heart run 2016!!
Barack Wamkaya Wanjawa, Nairobi, Kenya, May 21, 2016
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