No more TT talk – resolution number 15

No more TT talk – resolution number 15

Today I shall celebrate streak number 15 by not talking about TT.  Yes, you heard right.  The world is so obsessed with this COVID-19 thing until humanity as we know it is almost becoming a different species.  The same humanity that has conquered the skies, taking people to the moon, and is now capable of doing such missions without even thinking about it.  The humanity that has conquered the seas, and even mapped the ocean floor, to inform us that we have mountains and caves down there!  The same humanity that has created robots and cured diseases that were thought uncurable.  

What happened to humanity?  Good old days when humans could make unmanned vehicles, unmanned planes, drones, guided missiles.  What happened to us?  We now cower under the bed for whole days and whole nights?  Not confident enough to walk out?  I am not talking TT today.  The same TT that has afflicted 2,622,571 people on planet earth with 182,004 fatalities as at this evening?  My motherland accounting for 303 of these afflictions?  I am no longer talking about TT.  Give me a break!

Today I shall celebrate streak number 15 that was started by TT, the same TT that I won’t be talking about today.  But looking back at it… my winning streak has reached this number since I dared TT on that Friday, March 20, when the country was being shutdown and people being told to social-distance.  Since that time, we (TT and I) have competed on a three-run-a-week dare.  TT, which I am not talking about today, wins any run that is cancelled within a week due to its effects.  On the other hand, the runner takes the run, if the runner manages to run.  

That is why I am now on run number 15 since that March 20 dare.  By then it made sense to dare TT for a duel.  On that date the afflictions on planet earth were only 244,601, with 10,031 fatalities.  It was supposed to be a passing cloud.  The cloud has refused to pass.  It is now exactly one-month since that March 20 date, since that first win, since that first dare – and look at the figures – they have increased ten-times in 30-days!  From 0.2million infections to 2.6million, just in 30-days.  From 10 thousand deaths to 182 thousand deaths!  All in 30-days!  At this rate we shall be having 26million infections and wowi!... two million dead by May 30!!

And that is exactly why today I shall celebrate streak number 15, by not talking about TT, not at all.  The same TT that caused me that quarrel – rephrase – that caused some matatu person to be so agitated for I-do-not-know-what-reason.  I was at Kawangware market just last Sunday, buying my fruits besides the main road at the stage opposite the office of the county administration.  The place where we have two petrol stations opposite each other.  It is generally the stage for vehicles coming from Uthiru on one side, and those going to Uthiru on the other side.  I was picking my fruits from the vendor, when….

“Ssshhhh sshhh!,” I imaged hearing.  I was kind of squatting, examining the bananas that I was about to buy, on the narrow pathway.  On one side of this path were the vendor stands, on the other side the lined up matatus.  The middle section was left for this narrow walkway.  The very walkway that cannot allow two people to pass each other.  I actually was being forced into buying because the pathway was by that time blocked by either someone getting into the matatu, or someone buying.  Just one person stopping on this walkway was enough to block it.

“Ssshhhh sshhh!,” I heard for sure.  I ignored.  Nobody should sshh sshhh me.  Why should you?  It must be someone else being sshh sshhhed.

I continued examining the bananas.

“Ssshhhh sshhh!,” the bother continued.  I continued to ignore.

“Ssshhhh sshhh!  Ni itie huyo jamaa,” he sshhsshh-er told the fruit vendor.

The vendor would momentarily distract me from the bananas that I was now just purchasing as I gave him the money.

“Unaitwa pale kwa matatu”

Maybe it was someone who surely knew me and wanted to ensure that I get to recognize him for whatever reason.  I turned back, maintaining my squat, only to see a complete stranger!

“Unajua ukivaa mask hivyo ni kuonyesha unayo Corona.  Huwevi vaa mask hivyo.  Inatakiwa side ya blue ndio ukuwe nje.”

That was new.

“Sawa,” I said, for lack of a better word.  This was just too strange an occurrence.  I finished paying for my fruits and was momentarily shoving them into my bag.

“Mbona ubadilishi?,” he continued.

What the hell is wrong with this stranger!

“Unajua naweza ku kuitia polisi kwa kuvaa mask vibaya?”

I just left him bubbling on, while seated on the window seat of the matatu just next to the entrance door.

Coincidentally, he did not have a mask himself.

So do you see why today I shall celebrate streak number 15, by not talking about TT, not at all?  The same TT that caused me to run after the evening rains today, Wednesday.  I was ready for my run at 3.15pm, since it seemed like it would rain later on.  The clouds had already blocked the sun and the dark horizon indicated that the rains were just around the corner.  I guessed that these rains would fall around five, when I should have been back from my 90-minute run.  

This run would add to my streak and give me the magical number 15.  This run was however not to be, since just as I left the changing room ready to set off, did it start raining… heavily, I should add.  I just gave up on the run and stayed at my desk doing other things.  I now just planned to take an evening shower and then leave for home.  This was going to be a cancelled run, but not due to TT, hence TT should not even feature at all in this discussion.

I even switched on the electric kettle for that evening cup-a-tea, and went ahead to prepare the cup by putting in a tablespoonful of sugar, some tea, and ground ginger onto the cup, just waiting for the kettle to boil over and switch itself off.  It did switch itself off after about two minutes.  

I was just about to pour the hot water into the cup when I decided to have a look at the outside environment to ensure that the tea was a for sure thing.  That was the mistake that made the tea become a not-for-sure.  The weather had already changed and it was in fact just about to shine.  The time was just past four.

I did not think about this issue twice.  I was already dressed for the run anyway.  I just left and started my timers, ready for the run.  This run was surely not supposed to happen.  I was not supposed to be having streak number 15.  I had already given up on this run.  Why was it happening?  Even my cup of tea was still waiting for me by the desk!  Surely, giving up the tea for the run?

Today I shall celebrate streak number 15, by not talking about TT, though this 15 was made possible by just the mere thought of TT and what would happen if I let go of any opportunity to beat it on these streaks.  I have observed that many countries have extended their lockdowns, just ‘to be sure’ that TT is tamed.  There is high likelihood that our very own restrictions over here at the motherland shall be extended after the initial timeline that ends on April 27.  I just have to continue taking any opportunity available to win these streaks before TT takes over.

Today I shall celebrate streak number 15, by not talking about TT, the same TT that forced me onto the run after the rains of today.  Forcing me to run onto muddy and wet paths at Vet loop and the dry weather road from Lower Kabete road through the University Farm, to emerge at Kanyariri road tarmac.  

It was especially bad at the University Farm.  I had to walk carefully through some road sections that were completely engulfed in muddy puddles, with hardly any passable section, on the road or besides the road.  Some drizzles along the route almost made me question my decision to run after a those initial heavy rain, but I was vindicated when in fact it started shining as I got to Kanyariri tarmac on my way back to Ndumbo, then back to the starting point.

So, today I celebrate streak number 15, by not talking about TT.  The same TT that made this run compulsory, finishing it in 1.36.10 for 18.45km, with muddy legs and muddy shoes.  Let not TT control our lives and dominate our every conversation.  There is more to life than TT.  The very TT that is already making me plan for the streak number 16 that should be done on Friday.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, April 22, 2020

When 13 is the lucky number

When 13 is the lucky number

The rains were not going to get me again.  I was still feeling the pain of being rained-on on Wednesday, just two days ago.  I did not want to experience any more such pain ever.  The same rain made me lose the opportunity to do a proper half marathon, since the last two hundred metres had to be cancelled as the rain made the run-to-the-finish-line untenable.  On that Wednesday I did start my run at 3.30pm, hoping to finish by 5.30pm just before the rain.  But the rains would have nothing to do with my plans.  It had its own plans for an early rain that started around five.

On this Friday I was determined to start the run at three.  Another thirty minutes earlier than usual.  At this rate of starting early, I would soon be starting my runs at two!  I was sure that I would finish the run by 4.30pm and surely, it could not have rained by that time!  That early?  Can it?

My other consolation that I had was that the anger of the rain had kind of been quenched already, since there was about thirty minutes of mid-day rain, from around one.  It was not very heavy, but it was heavy enough to cause a blockage at Uthiru roundabout.  It takes quite some rain water volume to block that trench inside the roundabout to force the water to overflow onto the roundabout tarmac.  There was water on the tarmac as I walked work-wards just after 1.30pm on this Friday.

Despite my best of intentions, the run actually started at 3.10pm.  I was aiming to redo the missed marathon of Wednesday.  The one that was short by just two hundred metres.  Almost doesn’t count, does it?  I had to do something that counts.  That is what was on my mind as I set-off at three-ten.

The route was to be the same ol’ Mary Leakey, with four loops at the Vet loop.  This combination had already been proved to be exactly the half marathon, if anything, it was a bit more, depending on how far one would be go for the U-turn every time they did the monotonous loop.  The weather was downcast.  There was no sun, nor was there rain.  It was still and cloudy.  There was no sign of impending rains, though the horizon was starting to get dark.  The Ngong hills were getting dark, and the windmills were now hardly visible.

I started the first phase of the run by dispensing of the four Vet loops first, so that I could now just be left with only the ML to tackle… and then be straight back to the finish point at ‘the generator’.  The rains of the previous day and that lunch hour mock rain had made the dry weather roads wet, slippery and full of water puddles.  These roads were the Vet loop and the section of the road from Lower Kabete road as you divert to the left to ML school, then through the Uni farm.  I still managed, despite soiled shoes, soiled socks and soiled legs.

I was not exempt from having a facemask myself since I was in a public environment, running on public roads.  I also had my mask… handing on my neck.  I still observed very few people having their masks either on or at hand.  However, the situation had improved.  I would rate that every one in ten people that I came across was having some form of face mask.  I insist on ‘some form of’, since this issue of facemasks is now taking a nonsensical twist or even some comical turns in some cases.  The things people put on their faces in the name of masks!  There was even a news article the previous day of folks now turning inner wears into face masks!  

In exactly two hours, actually, 2.00.36, I was through with the repeat run of Friday.  This being compensation for the Wednesday run that was ‘almost’ a half marathon.  24.34km was the Runkeeper distance, while Endomondo gave this run a 24.31km.  The distance is not the subject matter, nor the time.  The subject matter is that you should do your run, at your distance and your pace – while there is still time for that.  

Even go ahead and do your walks out there, while you still have the opportunity.  Just do something while the time is still there.  The subject is that we have TT lurking in the shadows waiting to inflict a big blow to the running community.  TT, aka COVID-19, now had infected 2,218,332 people globally, with fatalities figure being 148,654, as per JHU stats of today at 11.38.41pm.  My own motherland is contributing 246 cases onto that 2M figure.

Many countries in the world are in some form of movement restriction or lockdown that is causing real inconveniences.  Runners have not been spared either.  They are suffering the most with the inability to access run routes, or being forced into facemasks that they cannot breathe-through.  Our motherland has only initiated partial lockdown in the name of 7.00pm to 5.00am curfew and the requirement to adorn a facemask while at public places.  

There could soon be a total lockdown where even running ‘out there’ shall not be possible.  Take maximum advantage and run as much as you can while we still have time… while we can still tame TT.  The time for TT to take over and start its streak may be with us sooner than later.  

China’s lockdown was 63-days (2 months) – the total ‘no leaving your house’ type.  That would be 24 missed runs – a 24-win streak for TT, if such a restriction was imposed on us back here.  Better be having 24 wins with you as early as today, if you really want to gain any real advantage over TT in the unlikely event of a total lockdown.

Finally, this was the thirteenth streak since I first dared TT – and yes, I am celebrating my 13-0 win, four weeks since the first dare!  And to put icing on the run, it turned out to be quite enjoyable.  It did not even rain during and after the run!  The more reason why I believe that 13 is a lucky number.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, April 17, 2020

The 12-0 that was rained off… with a tragedy at the end

The 12-0 that was rained off… with a tragedy at the end

I was set for an easy run on this Wednesday.  I had already observed that the long rains were already starting and night time seemed to be the time for these rains.  However, the Tuesday rains started early around seven in the evening.  It seemed that we would be back to the usual evening rains that characterize Nairobi, and Uthiru in particular.

I guessed that the Wednesday rains, if any, were likely to fall in the evening, around six, just an hour earlier than the Tuesday experience.  This timing led me to leaving for my run at 3.30pm.  I knew that I would be done with the run by 5.30pm whatever comes my way, though the plan was for a 90-minute run anyway.  However, contingency planning is needed when you are talking about runs and marathons.  Things happen on the road.  

Roads get blocked by some obstacle like a fallen tree or a dug-up trench – which means more time on the road navigating an alternative route or waiting for the road to be cleared.  Roads get rough, dusty or muddy – as muddy as it seemed it would turn out today – such a surface would surely reduce your speed or even lead to a walk instead.  

Occasionally, the planned route becomes untenable when it gets blocked by protesters, especially around Kabete Poly, UON Upper Kabete at Ndumbo or UON Lower Kabete at Lower Kabete road.  That would usually mean crafting a new route on the fly, sorry, on the run, which is likely to be longer, with its own new unknowns.

Other things that can happen to prolong a run includes the run being so enjoyable that you extend the distance and time, against the initial plans or you may meet up with a runner colleague and run along their pace and distance, which may prolong your initial plans.  Just know that when you plan for a run, add some contingency time.  Things happen on the road – and that is before considering the weather and what it can bring.

I left the doorsteps of the office at 3.30pm and started down to the generator, then uphill to the gate and out to Naivasha road, then Uthiru roundabout, then Kabete poly, then across Waiyaki way to the Vet loop.  I would be running the Mary Leakey route on this Wednesday as per plan.  

I observed that the trench that was being dug at the Vet loop on Monday was now extended to the road section just after ‘the wall’.  The same tractor was at it.  It was now clear that this was a trench of some pipeline or cabling.  I would bet on a pipeline, since I saw the trench extend through the field that heads towards KEVEVAPI.

From Ndumbo I started on the downhill on Kapenguria road towards UON Wangari Maathai Institute of Environment and Peace studies.  As I went downhill, I could see the darkness on the horizon towards Wangige and Gachie.  The sun was already out, blocked out by the now darkening clouds.  The horizon in fact appeared to show the white cloudy streaks that would suggest that it was already raining somewhere in the background, some ten or so kilometres away.  

It was not yet raining on the route as I passed by Wangari.  Nonetheless, there was no doubt at all that it would rain.  I still believed that the downfall would hit Uthiru at six.  I however started having my doubts as I got to Lower Kabete road to take the left turn.  The drizzle had already started.  It would be disastrous if this developed into a rain.  I still had over eight kilometers of planned run.  The unplanned ‘things happen’ modification of the run could prolong the distance and time.

The weather would however improve after I passed Mary Leakey school and started on the dry weather rough road that would eventually take me through the university farm.  I met a group of about ten or so young people – teenagers, I guessed, boys and girls at the university farm footpath.  They had completely blocked the road as we were going same direction.  Their social distance was demonstrated by them holding hands and walking in a tightknit group – blocking the already narrow path.  

..

My apparent approaching footsteps did not persuade them into giving way.  They looked back at my approaching form, almost in unison, as I approached them some ten metres from behind, and just continued walking full on the footpath.  I had to squeeze past by getting into the thickets on the right of their grouping.  They were so ‘conquering the world’ that they felt nothing and cared for no one else but themselves.

I would take that final hill run through the farm and find myself at the tank, ready to take the left turn to  join the main Kanyariri tarmac, to now get back to Ndumbo market, Vet loop, the wall, cross the Waiyaki way, pass by Kabete Poly and back to the starting point.  It was as simple as that, right?

Wrong!

I did the long kilometre hill and got past Ndumbo market, all the way to the Vet loop.  I was just about to pass through the narrow ‘the wall’ when the rain started.  I was yet to run the length of Waiyaki way and then cross it to get to Kabete Poly.  By the time that I crossed the highway it was turning into a heavy shower.  I increased my pace as I struggled against the apparent onset of rains.  I would in a moment be at Naivasha road for the two hundred metres downhill to the gate.  

I just entered the gate as the floodgates were opened.  I have never, ever, been rained on that heavily over such a short last two hundred metres of a run.  The taps of the rain had been opened up fully and it was voluminous, cold and blinding.  I was dripping wet by the time I was through with the run.  My shoes were full of water!  It was the most painful rain to hit me in a long time.

How I managed to finish the 20.74km almost-half marathon in 1.39.01 still surprises me – as per Runkeeper tracking.  Maybe I should be running more when the rain is about to start?  Of course, the phone with the Endomondo would stop working at the 17k mark, when I was doing the Vet loop on my way back.  It would get worse, when the phone went off just as I finished running, and then it started restarting after every five seconds, without successfully doing so.  It has a fixed battery, hence removal and return of battery to reset it is out of the question.  

Whether it is the weather and its rainwater that got into it or it was just its day – I do not know.  However, I have a full story about this phone that runs Endo.  This is a story for another day, even as TT now reached the 2M mark – yes, 2,008,850 infections on the planet, with 129,045 fatalities.  My own motherland now had 225 infections.  These were JHU stats of Wednesday evening.

I could not find the energy to celebrate a 12-0 winning streak, since I immediately received the news that one of my favourite Kenyan authors by the name Ken Walibora had died from a road accident.  This was a Swahili scholar of very high prowess, with storybooks that I liked reading.  With TT on one side and tragedy on the other, my 12-0 meant nothing!

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, April 15, 2020

Eleven – zero… the streak continues, but what did I miss?

Eleven – zero… the streak continues, but what did I miss?

I wanted to make something special out of the eleventh streak.  I was really looking forward to shouting the “11-0” at the end of the run – note, at the end of the run.  The run still had to be done to its conclusion, before I could declare victory over TT for the eleventh consecutive time.

It was a holiday.  It was Easter Monday.  It was not a business day.  It was not a working day.

“Who runs during a holiday?,” I asked myself as I set off to the starting point of the run, just a few minutes after three on this evening.

The answer to the self-questioning would soon come back loud and clear as I started off the run from my door, to first go to the usual ‘generator’ starting point, then get the run going.  I just realized that the run to the generator was actually a good half kilometre, as I looked at the two gadgets at hand.  My ceremonial mask was just hanging around my neck.  I could not run with this in place.  There was no need even trying.  I had already tried and failed miserably (as per a previous blog story)

I intended to do a long run, defined as anything over two hours.  The weather was good, to mean it was shiny and not very hot.  I could however see the gloom at the Ngong hills, which was already turning dark, a pointer to some form of rain developing around there.  My experience had taught me to be wary of the Ngong hills rains.  They tend to come over to Uthiru.  I was wary, even as I continued my run.

The road was a bit deserted, not with the usual crowds or the many vehicles that I would normally meet between Uthiru and the Waiyaki way.  Even the Vet loop did not have many people.  It was surely a holiday.  The Vet loop road was as muddy as expected, following the night long rains.  But it was deserted than usual.  

A tractor dug a trench at the farm, which looked like preparation for a lying a water pipe or installing a stone wall.  This activity was going on just next to the water tank that sits next to the now permanently locked gate.  The very gate that has interfered with our running route, by forcing us to go round the loop just to get to this gate, touch it, and get back round the loop on the reverse direction.  Damn gate!  

Things did not improve as I got to Ndumbo market after almost losing count over the four circuits that I did on the loop.  The very loop that was created by that locked gate.  That damn gate!  The run however continued to Ndumbo, where the deserted scenario continued.  The market area was not as full as it usual is.

“Who runs during a holiday?,” I found myself asking for a second time in less than an hour.  I was now past the market.  I was enjoying the downhill run, which would not be for long, since soon I would get to that river, and the uphill would start.  

I remember once taking a student on that route some time last year.  I told the student to be ready for an uphill run after the run, hence needed to conserve the energy as we headed downwards towards the river.

“What river?,” the student would wonder once we started on the uphill.

“You did not see that?,” I pointed at our back, where there was a stream, submerged by the water plants.  The water not showing as the season was dry.

I kept going uphill for the one kilometre run to the elevated tank, where there is a diversion to the left.  I diverted to the left to get into the University farm for a fifteen minute loop.  This section is usually deserted.  The road is dry weather and was now slippery muddy following the rains of last night.  I hardly met a soul.  

I was taken aback by that WhatsApp caution that was sent to the marathoners’ group, where a runner forwarded an experience of some other runner who had been accosted by gun-wielding thugs on motorbikes on a deserted road somewhere in Nairobi.  

I kept going.  I have used this road for over ten years.  I would continue relying on good fortunate to keep me running on this usually deserted route.  I would get back to Kanyariri tarmac road to now proceed to Gitaru market, to do the big loop round the market, part of which meant using the Gitaru-Wangige road, now under construction, before getting back to Kanyariri road.

As I kept going, I kept having a feeling that I was missing something.  I had had this feeling since I started the run.  I could not put my finger onto whatever I was missing, though this feeling persisted for the now almost two hours that I was running as I circled the Gitaru market back to Kanyariri road, ready for my way back.  By then I wanted to race back home since the dark horizon on the now cloudy evening pointed out to the onset of rains, soon.  It was a matter of when it shall rain, not if.  

But what is it that I was missing?  The answer came at this point as I started the descent on Kanyariri road, just after the Gitaru market.  At this point I would usually….

“Where is my water?,” I came to reality, as I reached out to my empty hand seeking the water bottle.

“This cannot be happening?,” I shook my head towards my empty hand!

It is my usual tradition to take a sip at this point, to give me the energy to accelerate downhill, which would generally run until the Ndumbo river, for that final uphill to Ndumbo market, after which it is just a matter of ‘hitting the wall’ at the Vet loop, crossing Waiyaki way and the run is done five minutes later.

Now I was missing my water.  I was missing my accelerant.  Now I still had about forty-five minutes of run.  I could feel my throat run dry.  I was thirsty.  I needed a sip of water badly!  I needed a sip that I could not get.

The only reason why I still accelerated downhills was to finish the run in a hurry and get hold of that water bottle, which I already knew where it had been left – just on the table outside the office door.  I had placed it there after locking the office door, and that it where it had remained.

It is not interesting running without water, especially when you are doing a long run.  However, I was already too deep into this run – having already finished over 70% of the run.  I just had to find the mental strength to finish the balance of the run.  Physical strength alone was not going to do it.  

You can lift your legs and propel yourself forward alright, but you need the mind to tell you that you shall be alright, otherwise panic and the feeling of faintness soon takes over body and you can start staggering along your path, just like that, out of nowhere – or you may just decide that your run is done and decide to take a walk.  If you do not believe me, just find out what ‘DNF’ means.

I kept going, knowing that the run would come to an end sometime soon.  And the sometime soon would reach, when I was back to the starting point after 2hr 46min 44sec over a distance of 33.96km as per the gadget with Endomondo.  Runkeeper would register this run as a 33.71km.  

It was the best feeling in the world gulping that half-litre bottle fully into my mouth, immediately after the run.

“Next time, shout when you are being left,” I told the empty bottle, even as I gazed at the JHU dashboard on what TT was causing to planet earth – 1,872,073 infections, 116,098 deaths and 441,820 recoveries as at 6.10pm on this Monday.  My own motherland was contributing 208 infections and 9 deaths onto these stats.  Though I was on an 11-0 streak, TT was doing its own streak.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, April 13, 2020

Running with a face mask? Eish…

Running with a face mask?  Eish…

At 6.00pm I was back to the gate.  In now just had about three hundred metres to get to my finish point.  I would soon be let in and in less than a minute would be finishing the Wednesday run.  I raised my hands in triumph as I hit the finish line just outside my office door.  My right hand had a fist, my left had the four fingers protruding.

“Nine – zero,” I finally exhaled, as I opened the office door.

I was on a winning streak.  Nine wins streak.  

Nine for runner.  

Zero for TT.  

This was despite more stringent measures now imposed onto the citizens due to this TT thing.  First, the seven-to-five curfew, and lately, the use of facemasks while at public places.

It is this use of facemasks at public places that is the essence of today’s blogstory…

On Tuesday, just a day before, I had already sent a message to the runners on the WhatsApp group and email to the effect that the use of facemasks at public places was now a requirement.  Whether our sometimes-deserted running routes were considered public places was still in contention.  However, I believed that any road that was accessible without restriction or warning about privacy, was a public road, not withstanding the number of people using it.  That meant that all our running routes were public spaces.  We were now compelled to adorn facemasks while on these routes.

I would however do the facemasks experiment myself, which I did around four while still seated at my desk.  I started by putting on the very top of range facemask – the N95.  This version is claimed to prevent 100% of all things from getting to your nose and mouth.  100% dust, 100% dust, 100% bacteria and 100% viruses – sorry, actually 95% viruses.  This is the bomb!  

The fixture of N95 on the face was tight and airtight.  Breathing through with nose only was difficult.  Breathing through with both nose and mouse seemed manageable but a bit laboured.  I was having a hard time managing normal respiration, however, I endured a five minute seating session with N95.  It was not comfortable.  I could not imagine running in it.

I then tried the surgical mask.  This was not so airtight after being fixed in place, covering the mouth and nose.  I could easily breath through, even with nose only.  The nose and mouth area just felt a bit hot, due to the continued breathing onto that front covered area.  Apart from that, it was quite comfortable to wear and to breath through.  Its efficacy was however 80% for pollen, dust and bacteria, and 95% for viruses.  It seemed something that could be subjected to a run….

After changing into the run gear, I left the office at 4.15pm, with the surgical mask in place.  It was comfortable as I walked out of the building and momentarily started my timer and phone apps ready for the run.  I would first run down to the generator starting point, then run the distance of the day’s marathon from there.  It was a day for an easy recovery run, to be done on the Mary Leakey route.  No pressure.  No worries.  No concerns.  Just a normal evening run at my discretion.

But things took a turn just after my first five steps of the run.  I started gasping for air from the covered nose and mouth.  I was on a downhill run for the next one hundred metres and so I survived with little breathing, but any attempt to pull air through the mask was laboured and difficult.  

After the downhill, and turning right towards the generator, I had to face a somewhat hilly terrain.  I once again started gasping for air.  I tried taking slower steps but started feeling like suffocating.  I could not manage to run.  I was running out of breath with every attempt to breathe in the very limited air getting through the mask.

“The hech!,” I shouted!

“Waste of my time!,” I exclaimed.

Both these chants were done with the mask now already lowered below the nose level.  My free nose was now getting in all the air that I needed.  The mask was now just covering my mouth.  I increased speed and would soon be making the U-turn at the generator now ready to do the full length of the Mary-Leakey route, which is anything from 13k to infinity, depending on the twists that you add to it.

Drawing air freely was a good feeling.  I felt like a runner.  I even wondered how I had survived the one-minute run with the mask cover.  I retained the mask cover on my mouth with the nose free to draw in the fresh air.  I would soon cross Waiyaki way, then past ‘the wall’ and then to the Vet loop.  

By Vet loop I was already suffering a covered mouth, as I now needed more air, not only from the nose, but also from the mouth.  I lowered the facemask further and let it now just hang around my neck.  I had by this time just covered 4km.  The total run time was just about nineteen minutes.

I would have to run the rest of the distance without the facemask, without the nose and mouth cover.  There was no way that I could manage enough air intake at such a high ‘run-level’ volume with a facemask.  Not possible.  I therefore just kept doing the run and feeling guilty, like breaking some law, as I traversed the long route.  However, I also had to make observation on the number of other people around me who were wearing their masks.

As I went down Kapenguria road towards Wangari Maathai Institute I did meet two people walking uphill with masks on.  Every other person that I met had no mask of any sort, on or hanging, at hand or with them.  As I headed to the river, I met four runners, doing their hill drills.  The two men and two women did not adorn any masks.  They did not seem to have any with them.  As I went uphill after the river towards KAGRI, I did meet another two groups of walkers.  They looked like runners or walkers based on their attire.  None had a mask.

I finally hit Lower Kabete tarmac road, to turn left for the half kilometer uphill before taking the left turn to Mary Leakey.  I met a lady runner on this stretch running towards my direction.  She did not have a facemask.  I met several walkers, they seem to wonder about the facemask hanging on my neck.  They had none.  

The road after Mary Leakey school is generally deserted, with little traffic.  I met few people, none with facemasks.  I did not meet any runner, even as I traversed the route all the way through the University farm, to emerge at the Kanyariri road tarmac, at ‘the tank’.

From the tank I would turn left, to take the tarmac back to Ndumbo market.  The road started having many walkers as I headed to the market.  Those with facemasks were countable – in fact I counted three, out of the multitude of people who were numbering the fifties.  I would soon be back to the Vet loop and back to Waiyaki way to cross and be back to the starting point.

My conclusion was that running with facemasks, at least the N95 or surgical type, was not possible.  Secondly, very few Kenyans have embraced the use of facemasks at public places.  I met and counted about seventy people, out of which those with masks were less than ten.  That is just about 10% compliance with the new law that requires all citizens to have facemasks while at public places.  

Thirdly, I discovered a new ‘accidental’ half-marathon route, which is just the Mary Leakey route that we all know, add to it four Vet-loops.  It surprised me to make the discovery that a marathon was very much possible at our very backyard, even as I stopped my gadgets after 1hr 45min 38min on a distance that turned out to be 22.33km.  

Finally, it was another streak for runner, with Corona losing for a ninth straight time – though its devastation on planet earth now stood at 1,504,971 infections with 87,984 fatalities as per JHU dashboard of April 8 run date, at about midnight.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, April 8, 2020

Cheated into running a marathon… the accidental April International Marathon

Cheated into running a marathon… the accidental April International Marathon

“Aya yaya ya!,” I heard the distinct intonation from the corridor, just beyond my closed door.  It was just about to click 1600hours.

I already knew who had said that.  It could only be one person who had the audacity to shout to an empty corridor.  I knew that the corridor was empty since I had just been there from the changing room a few moments before.  I was preparing for the Monday evening run – a short run of about an hour.  

I was already clad in my ‘short run’ attire – which has a ‘short run’ set of shoes, the ones that can run within the hour without adversely affecting my feet; the ‘short run’ pair of shorts, those that do not have secure pockets for the phone, since I could easily carry my phone on hand for under the hour; and the ‘short run’ Tshirt.  Just something to get me going – not breathable, not light – just something.

“Aya yaya ya!,” I heard the sound a second time, now coming from the main entrance towards the inside of the building.  It was just a matter of time before the secret would be revealed.  This was coming from a colleague whom I know for being blunt in his statements.  He is the only one on planet earth who says it as it is.

  

He calls something ‘ugly’ when it is.  Some of us call such things ‘beautiful in a special way’.  

He calls a lazy person as ‘lazy’.  Some of us would call such a person as ‘doing things at their own pace’.

If he wants somethings, he goes straight and asks for it.  He is not schooled in the art of persuasion or seduction.  I believe you get this last statement, which has severally got him into altercations with the gals.

He calls a short dress as ‘short’.  Some of us would call it ‘long in a special way’.

“Aya yaya ya!,” I heard him for a third time in less than a minute.  He was now just past my door.  He knew that I was in.  So this speaking to the corridor to no one in particular was actually to my benefit and of my colleague Mark next office.  He was passing a message – breaking the news.

“Rockdown. Woyi!  Kwanza twenty-one days!  Woyi!  Tutakuaje?”

That got me.  I would normally have to verify any such claims by just going to the official sources which are many and easy to access, such as the presidency, state house, GOK spokesperson or even our institutional security unit.  However, this was quite unexpected.  I already knew that in the scheme of things, somehow, someday, there would be a lockdown.  

In fact, this duel between runner and Corona aka TT, and this competition on who takes many wins started for exactly this selfsame reason – to know who shall have many wins after the lockdown.  I knew that the lockdown would surely come to bear, but not today!  Not on such a short notice!  And there was no underestimating TT’s devastation in the world.  My JHU dashboard was showing 1,331,032 infections and 73,917 deaths.  My own motherland had now confirmed 158 cases and 6 deaths.

Anyway, it was time for my run.  It was now about 1605hours.  I had a curfew in less than three hours.  I had to do the evening run and get it over with.  However, a lockdown would mean that this would be my last run for 21-days!  This was bad.  Bad I tell you.

There was no time to think about this.  There was a curfew coming up and every second of action or inaction counted.  I had to make a quick decision immediately.  There was no time to verify anything.  It was time for action.  If I was to do something for this last run, it had to be done now!  

I found myself back to the changing room to change into my ‘long run’ attire – the ‘long run’ pair of shoes, the LR pair of shorts – the ones with secure pockets for my phones that run my timers and apps and almost changed into the LR Tshirt…. But did not, since the time was flying so fast and I just had to leave and start the run.

I left knowing that I was doing the very last run before being sedentary for 21-days.  I had already seen the experiences of lockdowns in other parts of the world and I knew that it was not a good situation.  It can be as bad as never stepping out of your residence for that period of three weeks.  The consequences are dire!  I just had to do the last run… and fit it within the curfew restrictions.

It was not my intention to run a marathon on this Monday.  I had already run a 2hr 30min run on Friday, just three days ago.  My legs were still aching.  I did not have any intention of extending my pain on this Monday.  But the lockdown realization was something new and needed new unplanned action, such as deciding to do this last marathon, despite the pain.

I have never run such a tension-filled run.  My heart was pounding, more from worry than from the strain of the exercise.  I was starting the unplanned marathon at 1615hours and had to be through with it, and at home by 1900hours.  

I was running it at my worst of form, after a long run three days ago.  My legs were still aching.  And just the thought of a lockdown… and no more runs for 21-days was difficult to fathom.  At some moment I got so anxious and even thought that this was the end of the world!  I was full of tension!

I do not remember seeing much on the international marathon route that runs from the generator, through Kabete Poly, crossing the Waiyaki highway to the Vet loop, to Ndumbo to join Kanyariri road, all the way to Gitaru and back.  I ran for over two hours on that route but cannot remember much.  

But I still got to observe that several people were putting on their face masks, the minority.  The parked places such as Ndumbo market remained parked – both at the market stalls and the motorbike yards.  Gitaru market was equally parked without social distance restriction nor facemasks for the people trading.  The Gitaru matatu stage was still abuzz – nothing seemed to have changed.  Was this the last day that such activities would be seen?

I would finally end the run in 02.07.42 for 25.63km.  Hitting a 4.59min per km average for the first time in many attempts.  But that was not the contention.  This was the contention – I was now on a 8-0 winning streak over TT.  Nonetheless, with a three-week lockdown, TT would be taking the next nine runs.  

That means that I would have lost 8-9 by April 27 when the dust settles.  That was bad!  I had vowed to show TT who was the better runner, but it seemed that TT had just pulled the rug under my feet by this unexpected last-minute lockdown.

“Damn you TT!,” I thought loudly, “Playing bad tricks to the last minute!”

This lockdown was not to have happened, until maybe in May!

It was on Tuesday, the very next day, when I got to read the full text of the presidential directive on the lockdown.  I was now realizing that it was the travel into and out of Nairobi and Coastal towns that had been stopped for 21-days.  The directive on use of facemasks at public places was also a new thing.  This would be a new challenge for runners – if running on the open, often deserted roads is a ‘public place’ by definition, even the toll from TT had now reached 1,359,398 infections and 75,945 deaths as at 1.07.54PM as per JHU dashboard.

I however felt cheated by the corridor-voice, into running a marathon that I should not have run, as I read article 29(iii) of the presidential speech that “The movement within the Nairobi Metropolitan Area and the Counties of Kilifi, Kwale and Mombasa shall continue subject to the nationwide curfew.”  

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, 07-Apr-2020