Even three strikes could not stop the Divas International

Even three strikes could not stop the Divas International

After our last international marathon on Feb. 15, code name NLLV, the MOE* had directed that the next marathon would be organized by the divas.  They would choose a date and route.  They would map out the run categories and formulate all the rules.  “Anything and everything is at your discretion,” I recall sending them a confirmatory email in response to how much ‘degrees of freedom’ they could exercise.

Then came the date… they informed me that they had settled on the twenty-second:

“Coach, we have a date,” a caller whom I later recognized to be Fay informed me on my office extension.

“We do?”

“Yes we do.  March 22.  What do you think about it?”

I soon realized that we were talking the marathon.

“Just go ahead.  All rules are on you.  Is it agreeable to you gals?”

“Yes, it was unanimous.”

Soon I would be breaking news on the date on the mailing and Whatsapping groups.  It seemed a perfect Friday for this run.  Just enough time to recover after the Kili marathon, and not so late in the month to prevent ‘end month loading’ from interfering with the participation.  By March 10 we had the initial run rules under discussion – more of the gals telling us about it, while we, the rest of us, accepted them as they came.

It came as a surprise when they released the route maps… and… and the infamous ‘Mary Leakey’ route was back in the mix.  This section has not been featured in any ‘international’ ever since we started the series last year.  This is a route that we avoid at all costs.  After diverting off Lower Kabete road, you are faced with a general uphill on dry weather road for about 3k.  Though you get to run through a shaded area at the University farm, the isolation and loneliness can get to you.

More was to follow.  While we are used to an ‘international’ being a ‘do it or don’t do it’ run, the divas had a new twist to the equation.  They introduced four variants of the marathon.  You read right – four variants.  A 10k run – the usual ‘tarmac’, a 13k run – the usual ‘Mary Leakey’, a new 16k to be 13k + 3k loop on Kanyariri route and finally the full ‘international’ that goes to the 16k route loop back but continues on the new Rukubi road all the way to Gitaru-Wangige road and back.

Then the three strikes happened….

Strike one – an official visitor who had been planning to visit my department for over one year was finally given clearance to travel and chose the week of March 18-22 as the suitable week.  March 22 was to be his final day where he scheduled a departmental debrief at 3.00pm to 5.00pm to be followed by a ‘must attend’ farewell dinner.  Early same Friday, and I would get an invitation email indicating that we shall leave the compound at 5.30pm on pre-arranged transport for this dinner.

It was not long after that particular email that I got a calendar reminder about a Cooperative meeting taking place out of campus at Limuru road ‘from 12.30pm to 4.30pm’.  Travel time between the two locations was at least 30 minutes and worse during the evening traffic jam.  Attending this meeting would mean getting back for the run around 5.30pm.

I would be hit a third time on the same day when I got insider information, being in MOE, that I would be a major participant in the Divas International with two roles – to countdown the run, a task I had done in all the ‘internationals’ and that I would be the ‘first-aider’, which means running with the slower runners to ensure that no one was left behind.

“Please, keep time and do not disappoint,” part of the insider info indicated.

How was I supposed to survive three strikes!  Must all happen on the same day?......

At 4.27pm I ran to the generator adorning my ‘first aider’ jacket to find a big group of runners.  This was the largest group that I had ever seen ‘generated’.  My quick count gave me 15.  Soon others would join in on the countdown to a final number of 21.  All were in high spirits.  The psyche was overwhelming.  The excitement was uncontainable.  I even met a few ‘Kili-thoners’.

“Everyone, line up behind this line,” I pointed out, as I drew an imaginary line.

The runners obliged.  Soon we had some semblance of a lineup.

“OK, we now start the countdown… ten, nine, ei….”

“Stop!,” someone interrupted, “We have not taken the photo.”

The tension subsided as the runners readjusted their state of readiness to take a pose.

“Ahoy! Let us resume the countdown,” I brought order back from the interruption.

“Eight, seven, six, fi…”

“Stop!,” another shout, “Our Strava is not yet ready!”

What is this turning out to be?  A run that will never happen?

The tension subsided once more and runners confirmed, reconfirmed, started or restarted their various gadgets.

“No more interruptions.  This run is happening now in… four, three, two, one – Go.”

We set off at 4.45pm, all runners aware that they had a choice of four different runs on this day.  I stuck to the back of the group as per my mandate.  I would soon be completely left behind, but rules are rules, and roles are roles.  I kept with the last runners at all times and took them to their various turning points, starting with one that I took to Wangari Maathai, then increased my pace to the next group at the tarmac.  As I headed up Lower Kabete road, I did get yet another runner whom I took slowly, walkingly all the way to Kanyariri turn off after conquering the Mary Leakey section.

“I would have been lost in this section,” runner Jully told me as we made a final turn to now run the section through University farm.

“This place is cool but scary,” she reminded me as we savored the shaded trees at the farm, few meters to the tank and exit to the tarmac, “I cannot run alone here.”

“It is a good route, especially with some company.  It is even doable over the lunch hour,” I updated her.

Finally, we got to the tarmac at Kanyariri, where she turned left back towards the finish line, while I turned right to face the full run.  I would soon catch up with JV and friend running for the 16k route.

“That teq that you have been complaining about since last year is available today,” JV reminded me.

“Can’t wait.”

“You shall be blessing the ancestors, as usual?,” she commented.

It reminded me of the ritual, last done sometime last year, when J&B was at the centre of the table.

I soon got their permission to run ahead and that is what I did, as I now faced the rest of the route as the last runner.  At some point after diverting right on Rukubi-Kanyariri road, I found the leading group of Edu and crew already on their way back.  We exchanged our greetings and let them continue their lead while I kept the chase towards the extreme turning point.  Before the extreme turning point I met the final group of runners.  I noticed that Fay, Janet and Beryl were in that group.  Someone in the group handed me a bottle of water as we run in opposite directions.

“Water!,” I told myself in surprise, “This is a first one!”

After my turning point, I continued to race behind the runners and found the last group that had earlier handed me the water bottle waiting for me at the 16k junction.

“Stop!  Pass by here,” Janet called me back.  By that time I was about to pass the group as I kept on running.

I stopped and crossed the road to where this group of runners was assembled.

“We have some fruits,” Fay informed me and pointed to the containers.  This was in front of one of the shops at the cross road and junction.

Sure enough we had some fruits.  Bananas and water melons, already cut down to size.  This was a welcome relief.

I knew that the divas would come up with some surprises, but they had now beaten me twice with these surprises.

We resumed our run as a group and kept going at a steady pace, but gauging each other out so that no one was left behind.  After 2km of run, just next to the Primary school and Mary Leakey turn-off, we were asked once more to stop at a roadside shop.  This was another water stop, where we took bottled water.  Three surprises, completely unexpected, and all attributed to the Divas International marathon.

Though we finished our run quite late, when it was seriously dark, the divas surely over-did it this time round.  They set the bar so high that the upcoming ‘internationals’ have lots to learn from.  By role, I was to be the last person at the finish line.  I took that honour in 2hr 50min, with two other runs just seconds ahead.

Back to my predicaments – how did I survive the three strikes?  Here’s how… I missed most of the official afternoon meeting with the visitor, but this came at the expense of missing out on the marathoners teq party.  I had to miss out on this now well matured teq that we started planning for as early as October last year.  Of course I did attend the chama meeting, but I left the meeting early, around 1530hrs.  A Taxify taxi, sorry Bolt taxi, bolted me fast enough to the compound by 1600hrs.  I had a brief meetup with the visitor for the closing meeting and was at the starting line by 4.27pm.  Finally, being at the starting line at 4.30pm enabled me flag off the run and take up my role as the ‘first aider’.

*MOE = marathoners of expert, the organizing committee for marathons

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, March 22, 2019