Running a new 365

Running a new 365

Look back

I start today’s blog by revisiting 2018, my most active marathon year yet.  Though I only have one medal to show for the 365 days of activity, there was much more that I achieved that year than any other single year.  That is the year that I did six, yes, six ‘international halfs’.  Add to that the Ndakaini marathon and the Nairobi International full, then you can see why it was the most active of years.  Those are 189km of competitive run distance – real feet on real roads.  The annual average is usually 63, in 2 or 3 competitive runs.

It was therefore a very deserved break when I did hang my running shoes after the last international on Dec. 21 and took my 2-week annual break, where I remained sedentary for all of these days.  It was a great relief.  I could now manage to wake up without being on the edge or feeling tired.  I am usually on hyperactivity mode most of the year.  I find myself oscillating from run-tired-rest then the next run awaits.  It is usually an exciting long-period-of-time to be on edge.  I like it!  However, the break is equally exciting and I find myself having a December that has mixed fortunes.  In 2017 I was at my rural home accepting a sister’s bride price…. In 2018 I was at my rural home attending a funeral of my cousin’s wife.  

Greenery

Staying at my shags is the most exciting part of my end year break.  The place is quiet, with an amazing greenery.  You can see the full horizon coloured in nature, with hardly any disturbance of the natural environment.  The air has natural aura.  It still rains even in December, upon which you can smell the sweet earth, permeating the evening air.  It tends to rain in the evening.  The sun will usually not go down on such a day… the rain would have taken care of the sundowner.  Then the dusk would creep in slowly, whereupon you notice the darkness just sneak in, and soon it is pitch dark.  

The night power source is likely to be a kerosene lamp, however, we have now seen the advent of solar systems and we have installed one in our boma.  The rural electrification scheme is still a dream of a few since each beneficiary has to part with $150, which is no small fee still.  On this day that we have had the evening rain, you can forget the solar power.  It shall support the lights, which is the main concern anyway, but it shall be on ‘beep beep’ by eight, and then momentarily go off.  That is the evening to switch back to kerosene.  

On days when there is no rain and no cloud cover, you can rely on the solar to power all systems, light and sockets until the next day.  On such days, when there is no rain, the crickets cricket through the night.  They tweet their melody from early morning through the night.  The fireflies take over the evening and soon control the night.  They twinkle around undisturbed.  The night is otherwise pitch dark and you cannot see further than the fireflies.  It is claimed that the night people aka night marathoners, use them to light up the way, I don’t believe this.  On such nights, you make your way from house to house in your typical homestead by pure intuition and imagination on how the route should be.  Occasionally, you do stumble on something or even someone.  

With my village life concluded, I finally have to walk back the 6km distance to the main highway to enable me get a vehicle back to the city.  I am forced to cut short the good ambience of the village.  As I walk back, I see all manner of crops growing on both sides of the small path.  The path is covered by thicket fences on both side.  It is the conclusion of the short rains, hence the maize has ripened and some land is being prepared for the next season.  Cassava and sweet potatoes dominate the rest of the otherwise maize fields.  Everything else is greened with grass, shrubs and trees.  Every fifty or so meters you see a homestead appear by the roadside.  There is bound to be someone in the homestead.  You are bound to say Hi.  It is the tradition to say Hi, regardless of whether you know the occupants or not.  Tradition has already taught us that we are all sons and daughters of the soil.  Were’s creation, they call us.  All the sixteen sub-tribes of the Luhya have a linkage to Were Khakaba.  No one came from any other creator but Were.  You are therefore obligated to acknowledge and greet any villager – all villagers.  I leave the village with nostalgia that shall last until it is quenched during a next visit.

Switch One

Back to the city, the end of the once peaceful village life comes to an end.  My full days spent under the mango tree have ended.  The dinner under the moonlight with my folks become a thing of the past.  The salutation, where elders call you, “My father”, simply because you were named after your grandfather is gone.  This salutation is gone for sure.  The city folks just shout at you with a “Hey there,” if you a lucky.  You are soon back to civilization as defined by the city dwellers.  You are soon back to the period of tiredness.  You are soon back to routine.  

In the village there is no routine.  One day you are waking up early, around six, since you have to set off while the sun is still hidden, to visit some distant relations.  Another day you are sleeping until late, not caring about breaking the fast in any hurry.  On those days they usually send one of the children in the compound, usually a grandchild, to wake you up from your house, if you are lucky.  If you are unlucky, the elders shall just shout you out of sleep in their coarse bass and chatter.

“Hey, our father, are you still alive?,” you shall imagine you heard while still in the depth of sleep.  You actually heard right.  That is likely to be about eleven.  On such a day you shall take breakfast at noon, lunch at three, dinner at seven and top it up with before-bed tea.  Tea is not a meal.  It is not counted.  It does not count.  It is taken through the day – from starter to stopper.  There is no routine, anything goes, apart from the three ‘routine’ meals every day, which remain compulsory.

Switch Two

Back to the city, we have our routine marathon runs – three times a week – as strict as a doctor’s prescription.  You miss out and you have to start the dose afresh.  It is in our system and we have to live with it.  On many of these Monday, Wednesday and Friday runs, I get to go for the lunch hour run with a colleague from the marathoners group.  That is how the B-and-B team came about, of course, leading to that very team breaking a record for the worst time ever posted in the international halfs, but that is a story already told.  Nonetheless, the record remains.  Had it been at the village, we would not be contemplating any runs.  The mention of a run evokes negative emotions.  It is by default associated with the night ones.

Back to the city, I can remember one of these lunch hour run, with the B-team.  We were going on the 8km ‘the river’ route.  We usually do run and walk, depending on how the runners feel on the particular day (and also the solar level).  On this particular day, it was quite sunny and hot.  We had as a result only run to the 4km turn-back point, then decided to walk back the hill, and continue walking back to our starting point.

“I am too tired today,” Beryl said, “It is you who forced me to come for this run.”

“That is not true,” I said.

“Why now?”

“This run was already planned in the big scheme of things,” I stated, “It would have happened whether you like it or not.  There is nothing you could have done to prevent this run from happening.”

This is big

We discussed this big-scheme-of-things, which some call fate or destiny, with different points of view and did not have an agreement by the time we finished the 1hr 10min run-with-walk.  We have discussed this topic many other times, usually with no agreement, and it thus brings me to the New Year message…

Let your destiny in 2019 be guided by your decision to do your runs.  Commit to these runs since it is part of a healthy lifestyle.  If you decide to do your weekly runs, then go ahead and do them.  If you decide to join our monthly international halfs, then by all means do that.  If you want to join us for the Kilimanjaro marathon in March, just be there.  In the ‘big scheme of things’, there is nothing you can do to prevent what you want to do from happening – it is unstoppable and beyond your control.  Plan for it.  Show up for it.  Surrender to it.  Give in.  Flow with it.

Happy New Year 2019.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Jan. 6, 2019