The Second Half – 2-1/2

The Second Half – 2-1/2

New Crew

“Don’t let your mind wander,” I warned Beryl, “This is an over two hour run, and you need mental preparedness”

“But how?,” she wondered, as we now set off from the starting point.

We were once again a crew of five, a different crew, running the second ‘international half’.  I thought I had heard some famous song with the same theme, only for Edward to pour water on that assertion by confirming that it is ‘herb’.  Edward was part of the organizing committee of this second run.  The run was specifically held to enable Beryl who missed the last inaugural run on August 10 to finally get a feel of it.

I had once again sent the customary call for run to the marathoners and followed it up with a reminder on the runday Friday - exactly 2-weeks since the last half.  This run dubbed “212” was a ‘21-ver 2’ or ‘2nd1/2’.  Whichever the flavour, the 212 finally arrived and it did so sooner than we thought.  We were to start the run at 4.15pm, with a four-ten assembly time.  Since ‘the last half’ ended almost seven-thirty, we wanted to end this one earlier.  However, as fate would have it, by 4.30pm there was no one but the ‘coach’ at the assembly point.  I started imagining a cancelled run, though I did not have a conviction on whether to go for the run or not, if it turned out that no one else turns up.

No crew 

I made a call to the main gate, using the extension phone at the block near our assembly point.  I wanted to just confirm that none of our runners got confused about the assembly point.  And as sure as the gate is different from the generator, Beryl was at the gate waiting.

“Ask her to come down here.  She has 15 minutes…. late”

When Edward appeared announced with, “I am already here,” though he was late, the trio of us were generally now set for the run.  However, we had to wait for a fourth member whom Edu was recruiting for a first 212.  Momentarily, Roger, another of our runners appeared from one of the office blocks, probably heading home, since it was now past 4.30pm and staff were already headed home.

“That can’t be Roger,” I taunted him loudly, “We are starting our run at your block and you are heading home?.  You can’t do us like this!”

“Aki Roger, usiwe hivyo,” Edu joined in.

“Woishe, Roger, just change twende hii run,” Beryl’s comment was the last straw.

Roger turned back towards the block without saying nothing, I think he said, “Wait”.  He is a few-worded kind a guy.  And as short as the word ‘wait’ is, Roger was joining us dressed and ready for the run.

We set off at 4.40pm just as the staff buses were leaving.  Edu and colleague set the pace, Roger in the middle, while Beryl and I were on the trail.

Slowly by slowly we started off, with nothing to do but run, with nothing to hurry, but time is all we had.

We hit ‘the tarmac’, the usual 5k mark in about 30 minutes.

“Water!?,” I asked Beryl, but she shook her head.  I was carrying both our water bottles.  I took my own two or three sips and kept going.  I know the story of water, and I cannot be taken unawares ever. (Read my 2008 blog on when I collapsed due to dehydration). 

And with nothing to do but run, the mind does wander…..

Wanderland

I see myself back to the hospital at Kawangware.  That was just last week.  The mission was to ‘run out’ a marathoner who as being ‘detained’ in the inpatient facility.  She had been rushed there as an emergency on Tuesday night but was due for discharge on Thursday, after tests on Wednesday that should have led to medication… but did not.  The doc to interpret and treat was not available.  By Thursday morning it was already a family decision to forcefully discharge her.  Though I had the vehicle to ‘take her home’ on Thursday at 8.00am, the medical facility was just playing games.

First, they said that Nelly cannot be discharged unless the attending doc says so, the very attending doc who was last seen on Wednesday morning, and had not yet appeared more than 24-hours later.  The very facility that could not even give a remedy despite Nelly being unable to sleep due to pain.  Secondly, they told us that the discharge could only be done if the opinion of the facility was that the patient has not been attended to, which in their opinion was not an option for now.  Thirdly, they told us that the discharge could as well be done ‘against medical advice’, but still by the attending doc.  Isn’t the world round?

By ten o’clock there was hardly anything happening, with the nurses and admins avoiding the family and giving excuses including, ‘still waiting for the doc’, ‘are processing’, ‘NHIF’, ‘the insurer’, ‘the weather’?  And that is where combined efforts helped, since soon two other relatives joined in and before long a near confrontation was in the works…

“We want Nelly discharged now, or we shall call the press,” one relative told the nursing admin.

“And we are giving you 10 minutes or we shall call the police,” the second one added.

Attempts to cool the relatives down did not work, since soon they were both going into the administration offices arguing and ‘causing’.  Hospital staff were seen in small groups discussing and pointing in our direction.

“Drive off, and don’t allow the Security to check this car,” that is the command that met our driver around noon as we zoomed off the facility heading to another, with Nelly sandwiched on the back seat.

At one we reached our destination.  In this next medical facility at Parklands, we were received through the emergency entrance and were soon in a recovery room, IV in place, tests done and already waiting for results.  Nelly was even smiling some 1hour later, something that she could not do in the last three days.  However, I was left with the duty of taking care of her admin issues, including filing in forms and signing receipts.

“Give me your finger,” I told her, “We need to swipe the card to pay up for the tests.”

The fingerprint technology has its challenges, since by this time Nelly was deep in IV infusion and could not ‘lend a finger’ even if temporarily.

Then… there were this form that I was filling-in on her behalf, before she went for a scan.  It had almost one hundred questions, mostly of the Y-N type.  One of them, “Are you pregnant?”. 

“Of course I am not”, I responded to the question… smiling.

Smiles

“Hey coach, what are you smiling at?  Give me a sip,” Beryl brought me back to reality.

We were now heading to the 9km mark at the junction of Lower Kabete and Gitaru-Wangige road.

“I am not-expectant….,” was my response.

“What?”

“I am not expectant… eh… of these long runs,” I found myself saying.

“And, how do you stop your mind from wandering again,” she asked.

“Just tell yourself something about the run”

“Such as?”

“When approaching a hill, tell yourself that, ‘there is a hill coming up, I shall soon be there, I shall soon be through with it, and I shall do it’”

At 12k mark we left Gitaru road and turned left to join Kanyariri road, where finally Beryl realized where we were.

“You mean this is the famous Kanyariri?”

“This is it,” I affirmed.  “And it is now downhill all the way to the Ndumbo river”. 

Finishing

The five of us were in quite high spirits.  This 212 was much more enjoyable.  I was not tired and our run-walk strategy, especially after the 9k was quite refreshing.  We were not leaving anyone behind and our crew of five was well jelled.  We knew when to speed up and when to slow it down.

For Edward and I, doing a second international, this was no strange route.  If anything, Beryl whispered that Edu had done this same run (behind our backs) last week. 

I remember saying, subconsciously, “Oh, the strength of youth!”

Finally, we were facing the Ndumbo hill, at 18k.  As we approached, I saw Beryl smiling as we reduced speed slightly.  She finally burst into the song, “I am facing the hill, I shall soon be done with it”

“You are a good student,” I told her.

We were at the finish line around seven-fifteen.  We ended the run while dark (again).  However, it is the joy of finishing the run that counts.  That final selfie, that final high five, that last ‘we did it’ chant.

Will there be a third international?  How dare you!?  Or dare you how?

WWB, The Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, August 24, 2018

The first international half… a full half

The first international half… a full half

It ended

“The run is ended,” I told Faye, when we hit the 13k.

“You mean?”

“Yes, I do. From here it is a downhill for five…., a single k…, then the final home stretch of two,” I elaborated, amid sips of water, “This run is done.”

That was about one hour and a quarter into the run.

It started

The event, the first ever 21k international half, which initially was called ‘Kanyariri half’ started as a joke between regular runners.  When Edward (finally) shared a 21k route that circuits from the compound and back, we, the ‘inner circle’, knew that it was getting serious.  ‘The circle’ of six kept this to themselves as the planning and discussions continued.

It was my duty, as ‘the coach’, a name that had been forced my way principally by the same circle, to market and sell the idea to the bigger marathoners group.  By ‘bigger’ I mean one hundred and twenty or so members bigger.

I did send a message to the marathoners and gave them the full details of the ‘first every international half’.  I mapped the route, shown below, and also worked out some alternative distances, being 18k, 15k and 12k, just to encourage as much participation as possible.  I had two weeks to do this.  I had two weeks to see if it shall happen.  Knowing my bigger team, this was an event that I was not holding my breath for, it was an unlikely.  However, my mind had been made from the time I first saw the route – I was going to do this run, even if I shall be alone – just to scout this route out.

I had an idea of the profile of the route.  In fact, it is only the stretch between 9k and 12k that I had never run on.  I had been to the route upto 9k on some occasion.  This section goes to ‘the tarmac’ at 5k, then on Lower Kabete road all the way uphill to the junction of Gitaru-Wangige road.  The other section of the road that I had been to is the usual ‘Kanyariri full’.  This branches at Ndumbo stage, and runs the full length of the Kanyariri-Gitaru road, all the way to Nairobi-Nakuru highway at Gitaru.  It is just the connection of the two route sections that was new to me.

Countdown

“Today is (finally) Friday, August 10, 2018.  It is 12.30pm.  We have 4hours before the international half marathon,” started my Friday message to marathoners. 

It gave subsequent instructions on what to do, where to assemble and most importantly, “No one should come to the assembly point without at least 500ml of water, ideally 1,000ml.  We leave 4.30pm, and not a minute later.”

I did not get any confirmations.  I was not expecting any.  I know my marathoners.  They consent in silence (or course, they also dissent in silence).  My only worry was that this was not one of the occasions for the latter response – but as already said, I was not holding my breath on this.

I filled up my water bottle at 4.20pm, then changed to my running gear.  That is when I met Chris at the changing room – also changing.

“I did not think that you shall be going for this run,” he reminded me, “I have not seen you run whole of this week.”

“Nikose, nichekwe,” was my response, “Being out of the run this week was just one of the strategies that I had for this run… I have plenty of these strategies for today.  Just wait and see.”

Full team

We were to assemble at the generator house… and that is where I jogged to at about 4.28pm.  The run was a strictly 4.30pm sharp event.  I was surprised to find Faye at the assembly point.  She was the last person that I thought capable of joining in.  She was just running her first month with the team.

“I have been waiting since 4.20pm,” she complained.

I responded, “It is 4.30pm that matters, and I am here now.”

“Hey, you guys can’t leave without me,” Edward shouted from somewhere.

“Mimi pia niko ndani, ndani, ndani,” Chris added from somewhere in the works.

A team of four was more than I could ever hope for in the first ever international half.  This turnout had exceeded my expectations already.  I had feared for a solo run.  I was now 400% successful.

“OK, it is 4.35pm, we must leave,” the coach declared.

“Not so fast,” Faye interjected, “Nathan is joining us!”

“You must be kidding!  I have not seen him on the road all year!?”

“Don’t speak about me like I am not around,” Nathan appeared momentarily, “I am in the run, even if it is the last thing that I do.”

That could then only mean that we move to business…

“Race call!,” I shouted out, “Any 12?, any 15?, 18?”

Silence.  No one answered.

“Okay, 21s?”

“Yea! Tuko!,” all the team shouted.

A few seconds of describing the route preceded the real countdown and at exactly 4.45pm the run started.

Pole pole

Slowly at first, we started off towards the gate, and out of it.  The runners were generally in two groups by the first kilometer mark at the Waiyaki way.  The faster group of Chris, Edward and Nathan, and the slower duo of coach and Faye.

It was a good, sweet, relaxed run.  We headed for the 4k at the river with the runners all in great spirit.  It was generally slow on average, but fast on the splits, clocking nothing over 6km per minute so far.  We hit 5km at the ‘tarmac’ in about 34minutes.  We now have to do the 4km uphill on Lower Kabete road to Gitaru road junction.  I have been on this road.  I know it is mean… and it turned out to be as mean as I know it.  Gentle uphill, but uphill nonetheless… for 4k.  Having decided that this was a group run, we kept each other company and slowed down, or even walked if a team member was out of form.

New section

The 9k to 12k section on Gitaru road towards Nakuru highway was the new stretch that I was doing for the first time ever.  It turned out to be a gentle, but short hill since we soon (about 16 minutes later) were taking the left turn towards Gitaru market and then onto Kanyariri road that I know so well.

“The run is ended,” I remember telling Faye, when we hit this road at 13k.

As sure as mapped out, the next five km were smooth downhill all the way to Ndumbo river.  By the time we reached that river crossing it was already getting dark.

“This lying Equinox!,” I shouted, “How can it be this dark when it is hardly seven!”

“Be happy that there is still visibility,” Faye updated me, “In Europe it would have been dark at four-forty when we started the run.”

“You don’t say!”

Do it again

It was a relief when the five of us reached the ‘Stop’ painted on the tarmac at the gate.  That is where we stopped our timers, technically stop watch for me and some form of digital gadget for all the rest – one particular type of these gizmos that keeps making announcements every ten minutes.  Our group time was an impressive 2.26.40.

As we took a ‘selfie’ of five, (though I am informed that there is no such, if anything it is a ‘groupie’), we congratulated ourselves for a run well run and promised to do this again.

“After Ndakaini for me,” that was my response.

“What Ndakaini?,” Edward wondered, “There isn’t going to be a Ndakaini this year.  The main funders pulled out”

“Not possible,” was my disbelief, “This is the second longest running marathon after Nairobi marathon?  They can’t dare do that!”

“You wait and see.”

On reflection, this was my most enjoyable 21.  So relaxed, no pressure, and also did run in a group the whole distance.  My legs were not aching as much, in fact not at all, for the first time ever.  I ended the run without feeling like collapsing.  This run had a different feeling… a good different feeling.

WWB 'the coach', Nairobi, Kenya, August 10, 2018