Beyond zero that almost become zero
When I was traveling back from TZ on that Monday after the marathon, my mind was still grappling with the possibility of running another competitive marathon hardly six days after the TZ full. This was against the background of a chatter, that I had already had in the shuttle, that the folks were ‘not boarding’ this run. They were giving it a wide berth since this run brushed the wrong side of their political convictions.
When I was traveling back from TZ on that Monday after the marathon, my mind was still grappling with the possibility of running another competitive marathon hardly six days after the TZ full. This was against the background of a chatter, that I had already had in the shuttle, that the folks were ‘not boarding’ this run. They were giving it a wide berth since this run brushed the wrong side of their political convictions.
Their stand was that it was the government that should be in charge of medicare, and not the runners! Of course, this type of debate is hard to win. After all, doesn’t every run have a cause that the government should be in charge of, but we still go for them? Ndakaini for water, Stanchart for ophthalmology and Mutuini for literacy?
However, believe me when I tell you that you cannot win an argument over political convictions. The other argument that you cannot win is one on religious convictions. I have learnt to respect these two philosophies according to points of view of the people involved, and would change the topic in a hurry when these topics come up.
So there I was, seated on ‘jampu siti’, listening to the backbenches saying that the BZ marathon was a no-goner. As already stated, I did not wish to join in. From my point of view, the only reason why I was likely to miss this run was just because I was tired from the Kili. My political view on this event was hidden from view.
So there I was, seated on ‘jampu siti’, listening to the backbenches saying that the BZ marathon was a no-goner. As already stated, I did not wish to join in. From my point of view, the only reason why I was likely to miss this run was just because I was tired from the Kili. My political view on this event was hidden from view.
Due to the various points of view, this marathon was therefore not mentioned much on our WhatsApp discussions. It was as if all were afraid to talk about it. I kept my quiet too, even as people shared all manner of things on WhatsApp including some meme about some football in EPL, which is responsible for many lost bets.
I made a final decision to participate in this marathon when that SMS that beeped on my phone on a Feb. 26 came through. The deal was just too good…
Register before Feb. 28 and have your running kits delivered for free within Nairobi…
I made a final decision to participate in this marathon when that SMS that beeped on my phone on a Feb. 26 came through. The deal was just too good…
Register before Feb. 28 and have your running kits delivered for free within Nairobi…
Imagine being seated at Uthiru and you see that BZ rider coming your way with a kit – without even raising a leg! Who could resist such a do nothing at all, free delivery of the kit? Not me!
Little did I know that there was a catch to this message? The catch came about when I registered online, paid up by card and had to make a choice on how to get the kit. And as sure as the sun rises from the East, there was no option for ‘free delivery’. What we had on that website was a choice of either ‘collect from KICC’ or ‘collect from AK Nyayo Stadium’.
“Liars!,” I shouted loud while looking at the computer screen, two thousand shillings already deducted from my card.
“These lying #$%@,” I could not resisting vitrioling.
I almost called my bank to have the transaction reversed, but what had been done had now been done.
I had egg all over my face as I painfully selected ‘collect from KICC’.
“KICC indeed!,” I could not stop.
However, that was not the end of it. I was not going to take this lie lying down. I went to the contact pages of the BZ marathon as indicated on the website and called the telephone number provided of the organizers. The phone rang answered. I called the second number listed on the page. It rang and timed out.
“For crying out loud!,” I cried out loud!
Finally, I got to one of those ‘fill the form below to contact us’ website sections and filled it up, stated to the IMG organizers that they had promised delivery of kits and they had no choice but to deliver the kit to my address in Uthiru, which I indicated on that form. I went further to tell them that I would be expecting that kit by the time I am would be back to the city. I left my contacts in case they had a rejoinder….
But… Here I was, traveling back from TZ on a Monday. There was no response from IMG or BZ. Then… Then it just occurred to me that I could as well collect the kit from KICC, now that my shuttle would be dropping me at their city centre’s office near Jeevanjee.
Little did I know that there was a catch to this message? The catch came about when I registered online, paid up by card and had to make a choice on how to get the kit. And as sure as the sun rises from the East, there was no option for ‘free delivery’. What we had on that website was a choice of either ‘collect from KICC’ or ‘collect from AK Nyayo Stadium’.
“Liars!,” I shouted loud while looking at the computer screen, two thousand shillings already deducted from my card.
“These lying #$%@,” I could not resisting vitrioling.
I almost called my bank to have the transaction reversed, but what had been done had now been done.
I had egg all over my face as I painfully selected ‘collect from KICC’.
“KICC indeed!,” I could not stop.
However, that was not the end of it. I was not going to take this lie lying down. I went to the contact pages of the BZ marathon as indicated on the website and called the telephone number provided of the organizers. The phone rang answered. I called the second number listed on the page. It rang and timed out.
“For crying out loud!,” I cried out loud!
Finally, I got to one of those ‘fill the form below to contact us’ website sections and filled it up, stated to the IMG organizers that they had promised delivery of kits and they had no choice but to deliver the kit to my address in Uthiru, which I indicated on that form. I went further to tell them that I would be expecting that kit by the time I am would be back to the city. I left my contacts in case they had a rejoinder….
But… Here I was, traveling back from TZ on a Monday. There was no response from IMG or BZ. Then… Then it just occurred to me that I could as well collect the kit from KICC, now that my shuttle would be dropping me at their city centre’s office near Jeevanjee.
I would lose nothing by walking the 1km to the KICC collection point, though I was still feeling cheated, even as I guided my footsteps through Muindi Bingu street, then City Hall way before getting to KICC. I passed through security and was at the KICC grounds to collect my kit.
More bad news awaited….
“I have come to collect my kit, and that of my colleague Barbara.”
“Let me see, let me check,” the lady at the 21km registration desk started on the list, four other eyes from her two colleagues following suit.
“Sorry, your name is not in the list,” she said, “Let us try Barbara’s. What is her other name?”
I told them.
They repeated the routine of looking at the list.
Two minutes later, “Sorry your names are not on the list. Did you register?”
“Why would I be here?,” I thought of responding. Instead, my good nature took over the conversation, “Of course. See this confirmation from Beyond Zero,” I showed them the phone screen, where the email confirmation was already open.
They did another check, and another “Your names are not on the list.”
That is when the lightbulb hit them and they asked for new data, “We need the reference number that you got from Pesapay.”
While mine was one email down my inbox, I had to call Barbara and wait for her to respond, which took about ten minutes. However, she got me the long reference number.
That would not be the end…..
“What cause are you running for?”
“Are you people for real?,” I almost shouted. I do not know why that shout did not come from my mouth.
“But I already provided this information during registration?,” I said, surprised that I was this restrained.
“Yes, but we do not have the registration details.”
“You people are messed up!,” why I failed to say this statement of truth still makes me wonder upto now!
They would finally read this information from the same message that came from Pesapay. And just when I thought that I would have a good ending….
“There goes,” she handed me a Tee and a number, “that is for Barbara.”
I held it, in a manner of to confirm the two items.
“And that is your,” she handed another duo.
More bad news awaited….
“I have come to collect my kit, and that of my colleague Barbara.”
“Let me see, let me check,” the lady at the 21km registration desk started on the list, four other eyes from her two colleagues following suit.
“Sorry, your name is not in the list,” she said, “Let us try Barbara’s. What is her other name?”
I told them.
They repeated the routine of looking at the list.
Two minutes later, “Sorry your names are not on the list. Did you register?”
“Why would I be here?,” I thought of responding. Instead, my good nature took over the conversation, “Of course. See this confirmation from Beyond Zero,” I showed them the phone screen, where the email confirmation was already open.
They did another check, and another “Your names are not on the list.”
That is when the lightbulb hit them and they asked for new data, “We need the reference number that you got from Pesapay.”
While mine was one email down my inbox, I had to call Barbara and wait for her to respond, which took about ten minutes. However, she got me the long reference number.
That would not be the end…..
“What cause are you running for?”
“Are you people for real?,” I almost shouted. I do not know why that shout did not come from my mouth.
“But I already provided this information during registration?,” I said, surprised that I was this restrained.
“Yes, but we do not have the registration details.”
“You people are messed up!,” why I failed to say this statement of truth still makes me wonder upto now!
They would finally read this information from the same message that came from Pesapay. And just when I thought that I would have a good ending….
“There goes,” she handed me a Tee and a number, “that is for Barbara.”
I held it, in a manner of to confirm the two items.
“And that is your,” she handed another duo.
I remained put.
“Anything a miss?”
“Yes!,” I responded, “Where are the bags?”
The three looked at each other. Can you believe that they just said a casual, “We do not have them yet.”
I left KICC vowing not to participate in this run. Enough was enough!
Barbara would later send me a message that she was looking forward to yet another marathon with the very coach. But the clincher came when Beryl sent a WhatsApp message that we shall be running on Sunday to compensate for the IKM ‘running for love’ marathon that she missed.
That does it!
“Anything a miss?”
“Yes!,” I responded, “Where are the bags?”
The three looked at each other. Can you believe that they just said a casual, “We do not have them yet.”
I left KICC vowing not to participate in this run. Enough was enough!
Barbara would later send me a message that she was looking forward to yet another marathon with the very coach. But the clincher came when Beryl sent a WhatsApp message that we shall be running on Sunday to compensate for the IKM ‘running for love’ marathon that she missed.
That does it!
I was going for this run. I could not let the gals down. This run was happening….
And happening in did, when I woke up at five on this Sunday morning and took an early breakfast. I had hardly slept for five hours, having gone to bed around one. It is the alarm from the two phones that got me out of bed, cursing. The phones were so far from my reach, and were set so loud, that I just had to get up and be sober by the time I had managed to silence them. I just had to be read to leave.
I left the house at ten to six and walked to the Nakuru highway to get a vehicle to town. I was in a matatu by five past six. The vehicles traveled smoothly until we got to Westlands, when we faced the traffic jam. I already knew what it was… road closure.
I disembarked at Villa Rosa, as all vehicles were being diverted to the left, onto the road next to that Villa. The time was just about 6.40am. The road towards town, just after Rosa, was free of any traffic. I would soon start meeting up with the runners as all walked towards Nyayo.
I would soon start jogging towards Nyayo, a distance that turned out to be four kilometres. I should however be thanking that jog, since I reached the starting line at 6.58am and hardly had any time to settle down before the run started at exactly seven. And the start was without any fanfare, just a countdown and off we left.
The weather was cool, following the previous night’s rains. The run started on Uhuru highway outside the Nyayo stadium and we started running on the way back towards Villa Rosa.
“I should have just have waited there!”, I thought out loud.
The weather was cool, following the previous night’s rains. The run started on Uhuru highway outside the Nyayo stadium and we started running on the way back towards Villa Rosa.
“I should have just have waited there!”, I thought out loud.
We ran on the overpass at Museum hill roundabout and were once again down onto Uhuru highway to run back towards Nyayo. Two runs within the city centre, at Parliament road and Haile Sellasie avenue made up for some distance, before we were back to Nyayo stadium to take a left turn on Bunyala road, all the way to Jogoo road, and back to the stadium via Lusaka road.
There was plenty of water available to the runners at the various water points along the route, each point about five kilometres from the previous one. The weather remained cool. The weather remained good. Back to Uhuru highway and we had to take some bit of Mombasa road upto Belle Vue and back. It was quite a relaxed run, and I did not feel any strain at all. The run was just pure fun, no pressure, lots of company, lots of water…. And of course, the very fine weather.
I would finally get to the finish point at Nyayo stadium, clocking 1.38.08 for 21.46 (4.34min/km pace) according to Endo, while Runkeeper gave me a 1.38.15 for 21.24km (4.38min/km pace). As per convention, pick the worst of both world to get your final stats – so 21.24 in 1.38.15 it is!
Let me see if the official results shall tally.
Apart from the tight security within the stadium, where runners were hardly being allowed to stay around, all seemed well and all finishers were jovial. However, one thing was still missing…
“Where do we collect our medals?,” I approached some lady at the stadium, who was adorning a nametag in a manner to suggest that she was part of the organization of the marathon.
She looked at me, unsure. The response did not surprise me, “Eh… Ah… I also do not know!”
Some runner would soon appear within the stadium with a medal hanged on his neck. He is the one who directed me to get out of the stadium and get the medal ‘somewhere out there’
WWB, the coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Mar. 8, 2020
There was plenty of water available to the runners at the various water points along the route, each point about five kilometres from the previous one. The weather remained cool. The weather remained good. Back to Uhuru highway and we had to take some bit of Mombasa road upto Belle Vue and back. It was quite a relaxed run, and I did not feel any strain at all. The run was just pure fun, no pressure, lots of company, lots of water…. And of course, the very fine weather.
I would finally get to the finish point at Nyayo stadium, clocking 1.38.08 for 21.46 (4.34min/km pace) according to Endo, while Runkeeper gave me a 1.38.15 for 21.24km (4.38min/km pace). As per convention, pick the worst of both world to get your final stats – so 21.24 in 1.38.15 it is!
Let me see if the official results shall tally.
Apart from the tight security within the stadium, where runners were hardly being allowed to stay around, all seemed well and all finishers were jovial. However, one thing was still missing…
“Where do we collect our medals?,” I approached some lady at the stadium, who was adorning a nametag in a manner to suggest that she was part of the organization of the marathon.
She looked at me, unsure. The response did not surprise me, “Eh… Ah… I also do not know!”
Some runner would soon appear within the stadium with a medal hanged on his neck. He is the one who directed me to get out of the stadium and get the medal ‘somewhere out there’
WWB, the coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Mar. 8, 2020
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