Where are the runners? – ending July without company

Where are the runners? – ending July without company

Being a Friday, it should have been a day for just another Friday run, but it felt different.  I started the run at 12.45pm.  The weather was downcast, the sun was nowhere, the cold was struggling to persist in the inevitable warmth that was permeating from the hidden sunshine.  The clouds were not making things easier on this temperature situation.  The sky was enveloped in white but it was not as cold.  Maybe end of July also meant end of the cold?

I left for the run and was soon heading to Waiyaki way, hardly ten minutes after the start.  The road was a bit deserted.  What was happening on this Friday?  Even the vehicles on the roads seemed fewer than usual!  I would in a moment run across Waiyaki way and then get running on the other side of the road, for that stretch of about a kilometre, that would take me to run under the Uthiru flyover.  

This stretch of road that takes you from the point of your crossing over towards the flyover is a long straight tough section of the road.  You are running through an unending major road, with vehicles zooming from ahead, some leaving the full six lane road to push you out of the edge of the road where you are!  

You are glad when you start finally leave the highway, turn to the right and circle around the roundabout to soon turn left to face the downhill towards Ndumbo.  At this point of heading towards Ndumbo, you only need to worry about the matatus that park in the middle of the road as they beckon passengers for the ride to town.  That blockage means that vehicles from opposite directions have to struggle through one lane of the road.  It is the runner who has to suffer by running out of the road on the very rough edge, where there is no semblance of walkway – just a rugged patch of stony road shoulder.  

However, once you survive the Ndumbo stage area, then it is all smooth running towards Wangari Maathai.  Coincidentally, the road section around Ndumbo was not busy on this Friday.  I even enjoyed my run on the edge of the tarmac until I was through with that stage section – something that is hardly possible with the matatus have parked on the road.  What was happening today?  Where are the people?  Where are the vehicles?

There was hardly a vehicle or a person by the time I was heading towards Wangari Maathai Institute.  I would however encounter a group of people, some in yellow jackets, slashing the edges of the road, just before the Institute’s gate.  That group was probably all of humanity on this road.  I would later encounter one person washing a motor vehicle near the river, with potted plants lining the left edge of the road, the edge where I was running on.  I have progressively seen these pots grow from none, hardly three months ago, to now about ten of them.

I overtake the potted plants and soon get to the river and start the uphill run to Lower Kabete road.  I meet no one.  However, one or two vehicles pass by on either directions.  I reach Lower Kabete road and the two motorbikes are parked on the pedestrian walkway at the junction of the road, as usual.  I overtake them and turn left to run about three minutes uphill on Lower Kabete road.  Even this major road that connects Wangige to Westlands and town centre has very few vehicles to count.  Usually there would be at least one every half minute.

I eventually make the left turn to the dry weather road that would take me towards Mary Leakey school, then the University farm some kilometre away from there.  This road section is also deserted.  I hardly meet a person.  I would soon face the University farm that would for sure be lonely for the kilometre run-through.  It is for sure deserted, as expected.  I meet no one through that five-minute run.  

I am tempted to ask the ‘where are the people’ question while on the farm, only to remember that this section usually has no people any day, anyway… usually only the runner, and occasionally, such as on Monday, some farm workers tending to the plants.  On that day I had tried to decipher what plants they were tending, but my running motion could not register the green sprouts on the vast land.  Could it be coffee?  Could it be tea!  It was not maize for sure!

I am back to reality as I now run to the tank.  I for sure have to go for the half marathon route on this occasion, but who knows, I may just surprise myself by giving it an end-of-month twist and adding ‘something’ to it.  However, I am not sure yet.  I first have to get to the U-turn before I decide on how much more I can add to the usual run-back distance.  The weather is still downcast.  A gentle wind swishes by my running frame as I keep running on Kapenguria road.  I shall be running for about fifteen-minutes before I get to the U-turn point.  This section of the road towards the U is generally flat, though a bit hilly after the cross road at Kanyariri AIC church.

I keep going.  I am now just looking forward to that U-turn.  My mind is blanked, but I still notice that there are very few people on the road, even on that cross road shopping centre, which would normally be bustling with activities and the notorious loud motorcycles.  I soon get to the U-turn and I am glad to be heading back onto the return leg towards the finish.  But there is no need to get all excited and all.  The finish line is still very far.  As far as one hour or more, depending on run speed and final route chosen to the finish point.

I am now running back and heading home.  I get to the tank after about fifteen minutes after the U.  I have the option of continuing down the road, then up towards Ndumbo – the usual straight road towards the finish… or turning left at the tank and doing the same same route that brought me here.  The left turn means an extra 4km on my bill.  It is however too late to make sense of my decision, since I find myself taking the left turn back to the University farm.  

I shall soon face that eerie silence and nothingness for over a kilometre through the farm.  I do not even think about it as I traverse the farm in complete solitude.  I just keep running.  Going back to Mary Leakey school, then Lower Kabete road, then the right turn back to Kapenguria road.  All these while I can hardly see humanity.  Where are the people?

I now have to run from ‘the tarmac’ back to my starting point at Uthiru.  These are about six kilometres of pure painful run, coming at a time when I have been on the road for over one-hour-thirty-minutes.  I however have no choice since I have to get to the finish line one way or the other.  Runs are not just finished in the middle of nowhere at a whim.  After all, there are no people, or even motorbikes passing by.  How else would I get to the finish line even if I decided not to continue with the painful last thirty minutes?  I just have to keep going!

And that if what I do, first to the river, then to that dreaded 1.5km of uphill from the river, past Wangari Maathai institute, back to Ndumbo.  That dreaded hill!  I shake my head in dread, just as I still meet the same group of people who were doing the slashing of the roadsides just past Wangari, on the final hill stretch.  One of the people slashing comments loudly that the sun is too hot, which would mean that it shall be raining soon.  His colleagues shout their affirmation.  That brings me back to my senses.  It is surely shining.  When did the shine begin?  I cannot recall!  It was cold and cloudy the last time I checked.

I am now only three kilometres from the finish line when I am get back to Waiyaki way.  I am too tired to notice anything, though there is nothing much to notice with all this desertion.  However, I can see the traffic police, for the first time since the initial lockdown in March, with a roadblock just next to the Kabete Police station.  I see vehicles from town forced to stop and the men and women in luminous yellow jackets approach and speak to the drivers.  These activities are unfolding on the other side of the dual carriage way.  I ignore them and keep going to enable me cross the wide road and start my home stretch.

I finish the run in 2hr 13min 35sec.  I am completely finished!  I collapse on my desk as the phone app beeps with a message ‘Congratulations – 26.84km is the longest distance this month’.  I do not even care.  I do not even want to be congratulated.  I am finished completely!  I even fell like drifting off into slumber, though I am still all sweaty and the environment feels so heated.  I need to hit that shower if I am to feel any better.  

I am just about to take a painful step from the seat, when the announcement from the online stream that I keep on comes out loud and clear, that the world has reached yet another milestone in COVID-19 cases.  So I pay attention to the numbers - 17,630,927 infections on planet earth with 679,655 deaths!  That 17M level got me into searching the data for Kenya.  And soon I would scroll through the list on worldometers to see the motherland listed at number 64 with 20,636 confirmed cases and 341 deaths.  

I am resigned to a ‘what shall be shall be’ state of mind, when I soon hear a ‘cautiously optimistic’ sound-byte from a US top infectious disease expert that there shall be a vaccine by end of year.  The very prediction that I had given TT a few articles ago.  I was now heading to the showers with the mindset that humanity shall wrestle TT to the ground by end-year when it dawned on me that this Friday was Id-ul-Azha holiday – it was not a work day!

WWB, The Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, July 31, 2020

Seeing double, before seeing clearly

Seeing double, before seeing clearly

Was that 15million that I saw?  I would have to recheck, but later.  The time was now just about 12.30pm.  I had already seen the text from Edu booking me for yet another mid-week run in as many weeks.  It was to be my run day anyway.  I would just have to shed-off the ‘runner’ tag and assume the ‘trainer’ one.  Still good with me.  Wednesday is a run day and a run is a run – whether running or training.

I would join Edu at the generator at about 12.40pm.  His patient had already been overstretched for a second time in as many weeks.  I met him already off for the run, while I headed to the generator for the start.  He had to make a U-turn so that we could start the run a second time together.

The weather was good.  As good as no sun and equally not cold.  I led the way as we headed for Waiyaki way via Kabete Poly.  We just kept running on the usual route that would keep us on Kapenguria road, to get past Wangari Maathai Institute, then the river, then the tarmac, then Mary Leakey, then University farm, then the tank.  It is at the tank where we would decide whether to turn back by a left-turn back to Ndumbo or we would add some kilometres by turning right, then coming back to this very tank on our way back.

However, we did not get to the tank together.  It was just after Mary Leakey school, having walked a few times already, that Edu confessed to his persistent muscle pull on the right leg.

“Just keep going,” he motioned me past, “I shall make my turn at the 10k point.”

So, I kept going, leaving him behind, worried to the core as to whether he would make it to the tank, let alone add a few more kilometres to the 10k point.  We were just past the 6k mark at this point.  I was imagining another 4k of painful steps on his part, then yet another last six back to the starting line.  That was lots of hours of muscle aches, though the pain was likely to subside with time – likely, but not guaranteed.

I would turn right at the tank, then run all the way past Kanyariri market, to my new ‘usual’ turning point.  I then started my way back, where I eventually met Edu also on his way back, just past the ‘10k turnback’.  He must have done more than the 10k turnback for me to have met him where I did.  We did run together to the Ndumbo river, then I went ahead on the hill, before waiting for him at the Ndumbo market.

From the market he gave me the go ahead to finish the run, as he was sure to make it back.  There were now only three kilometres separating us from the gate of the finish line.  Those last few kilometres were smooth as I headed to the finish line.

Another run was done – just another Wednesday, with another mid-week run, with another half marathon.  I would soon be back to that 15M.  It was a true figure.  COVID-19 infections on planet earth were now standing at 15M – technically, 15,223,912 with 622,536 deaths.  A scroll down on the listing of countries on the worldometer webpage would show Kenya at number 66, ranked by infections, with 14,805 infections and 260 deaths.  

However, I would stumble on the figures of our neighbours further down the list.  Uganda had 1,075 infections and zero deaths.  You read right, zero deaths.  The stats for this does not look right, comparing what is shown for other countries, comparing infections versus fatalities.  Nonetheless, the data says what the data says, and you have to believe something, don’t you?  

And… and TZ, who stopped doing anything about TT, including participating in the submission of the data to WHO, still had some numbers.  Though they have since allowed everybody to do what they want and to continue living their lives, their numbers remain those that were published more than one month ago, being 509 infections and 21 deaths.  

Good news though!  All these figures would soon mean nothing, as development of vaccine and treatments are now on high gear and just within this year - yes, within 2020, we shall have a proven therapy for TT.  Therefore Corona can enjoy the limelight with big numbers for now.  That streak shall came to a screeching halt in a maximum of five months.

“TT, take that statement and bank it somewhere safe.”

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

Running in a group… for the first time since TT

Running in a group… for the first time since TT

It is a Wednesday.  It is a run day.  I am however having a pain on the back of the knee.  I feel pain every time the fulcrum of the knee bends to make a step.  The pain only manifests when I am moving.  While stationery – standing or seating – there is no pain at all.  It is that attempt to step with my right leg that brings forth all the pain.

The pain started yesterday morning – just out of the blues.  I woke up and the pain started upon making the first step from bed.  Despite my long run of Monday, I did not experience any pains on my legs after the run.  If anything, it is the left foot that has been my bother for the last month.  The right wheel has been in perfect condition for long.  So why would I have a pain from nowhere on a Tuesday?

The last time there was semblance of discomfort on that right wheel was during the Norwegian Stavanger marathon at the city of Stavanger, when that pain kicked in on the 32km mark and persisted for about two kilometres.  I was so scared for failing to finish my maiden marathon in the artic.  The pain would however be gone on the 34k, and I ended up finishing the run.  That was last year August, end of August.  

The same pain had plagued my first Kilimanjaro marathon last year March, just on the same 32k, when I was through with the 10km of hill that runs from 21k to 31k, when one makes a left turn to start the next 10k of downhill.  It is at that turn that the pain started.  I could hardly run when I got to the water station at 32k.  

And… and believe it or not, the medics at that medical station did not have anything to help soothe the pain.  They were handing over tumblers of glucose-laced water as their only medication!  How was that supposed to ease the pain on my leg for crying out loud!?  

I was facing another may-not-finish-the-first-Kili moment in that run, when my slow run for about 1k paid off when the paid once more just disappeared and I was able to run the last 10k to the finish.  (Find out what ‘DNF’ means.  It is the most hated and dreaded word in the world of marathons).  

But in 2020, nothing!  All has been good, including during the Kili-2020 and the FLHM-2020.  That right kick has been perfect for over ten months.  It was therefore a cause of worry, that it would just start to ache, on its own, even without being subjected to the 32k-mark.

My instinct was to skip the Wednesday run to heal-off the right leg.  This pain on the region of the biceps femoris tendon was not giving me any peace whenever I tried walking.  However, application of ointment on Tuesday night soothed the pain almost immediately.  

I even went ahead and confirmed with Edu, by a late-night call, returning his missed-call for that matter, that I would be taking him out to ‘re-learn’ the routes.  He claimed to have ‘rusted’ a lot, since our last such group run must have been last year, during the November international.  I knew that it must have been way before, probably the July-2019 international, but I kept that intelligence to myself.

I should have obeyed my Tuesday instinct and cancelled the Wednesday run altogether, since I woke up Wednesday with that pain now back and…. it was back with a bang!  I was now walking with a slight limp, worse than Tuesday when I was still walking straight.

“I am calling off the run,” I told myself as I struggled to walk steadily towards the workplace, where we were to start the run.

I got to the office and applied some balm on the tendon region and tried stretching and folding that knee joint.  I pained like hell!

“I am calling off the run,” I repeated to myself, even as the time to start the run was nearing.

I would in a moment get a confirmation SMS from Edu, “We meet at the generator at 12.30. I have gone to change and then heading there.”

“I am calling off the run, not!”

I warmed up and was soon at the generator.  I could feel the pain but it was not intense – that balm!  The pain was now hidden deep in the leg, near the bone.  I could bend the knee alright, but not the sprinting-type of bend.  I was on a marathon on this day, and so the sprint kicks were not available for use – good for me.

I got to the generator around 12.35pm, only to meet Edu running towards my approach.  He must have given up on the 12.30pm appointment.  He believes on these gadgets!  When it says 12.30pm is the start time, then it is the start time.  He ran back to join me at the starting point at the generator.  We would momentarily start off the run at about 12.37pm.

“It is your run, how do you want to have it done?,” I confirmed with him, just as we started the run.

“I just want to be back to speed,” he responded, “So, pull me along, but not so fast.”

“Your wish!,” I said then added, “This is my first run in a group since March.  I long for those monthly international marathons.”

“You can forget group runs.  This is the nearest you shall get to a group,” Edu reminded me.

“The corona thing?  There shall be a vaccine soon.”

I started leading the way as we faced the now default route, from Uthiru towards Kabete Poly, crossing Waiyaki way to run the other side all the way to under the Uthiru flyover, then run on the big roundabout to then turn left towards Ndumbo stage.  From there it would just be the Kapenguria road to Lower Kabete road, then we would take the Mary Leakey route, through the University farm to ‘the tank’.  We would then decide on what to do with the rest of the run once we got to the tank.

The weather was good for a run.  Just perfect.  No sunshine.  A bit cold, but the warmer side or cold.  We went through the run as planned.  At the left diversion from Lower Kabete road towards Mary Leakey we faced the road that is now being graded.  I had earlier noticed action on this road when on my last Wednesday’s run.  

My observation this day was that the grader must have re-dug the road, judging from the fresh mounds of earth overlaying the once roughing road.  Additionally, the machine must have done much more digging than last week, since the road was now dug all the way to the University farm.

“I hope they are not preparing to close this road also,” Edu commented, as we reached the Uni farm to run the gentle uphill towards ‘the tank’.

“If we survived the closure of the loop… then we can manage any strange surprises being planned… we just have to wait and see,” was my response.

We finally reached ‘the tank’, at about the 9.5km mark.  We now had two options, either to turn left on Kanyariri road back to Ndumbo and back to the starting line to finish the run, or turn right and continue on Kanyariri road towards Gitaru.

“Running back is 5k, any runs on the right side means whatever-kilometres-plus-five,” I gave a quick decision-point consideration to Edu.  We had by now run for about one hour.

“We are turning right.  We have to do whatever-plus-five,” he affirmed as he led the way to the right turn of the tarmac.

We kept going.  He was to confirm the turning point.  I had earlier on joked about this ‘turning point’ issue with Karl, who was also on today’s run but on a different route and distance.  We had of course eventually met at the ‘river’ just after Wangari Maathai, as he was running back, while we were about to face the uphill towards Lower Kabete road.  While we compared notes on the day’s runs earlier on, he had told me that he was just going for a ‘ka-run ka-dogo’ to the river.  

I had told me at that time that I am tagging along Edu, who would be my ‘mwanafunzi’ for the day.  I had told him that Edu is controlled by gadgets.  While I would run and make a turn at any point and finish my run at a finishing point, Edu would only make a turn or a finish when the gadget says so.  

And…. it just happened, as I was starting to remember that conversation with Karl earlier on…..

“Coach,” Edu drew my attention, as we were now on the uphill after the junction next to ACK Kanyariri church.  I was about five metres ahead.

“Stop!  It is now twelve point three.”

And just like that we stopped!  We were just stopping in the middle of the road, ready to make a turn.  I would usually have turned back at the junction that we had just passed, some two-hundred metres back, or would have proceeded and made a turn at the market ahead.  I rely on some landmark or pre-planned points to mark my turning points.  But… not Edu!

So when the wrist watch that he had instructed us to turn back… we turned back at that exact point that the gadget dictates.  We made the U-turn and started our run back.  The run back was quite enjoyable.  The downhill kept us pulled towards our finish line.  However, it was not all gravity, we still had that infamous uphill from the river towards Ndumbo market.  Conquer that one kilometre, and the run is as good as done.  You are just twenty-minutes from the finish – just twenty minutes of smooth flat run.

We kept running, walking at times, depending on how intense the run was.  It was an easy run all through though, averaging 6min 30sec per kilometre.  It was a welcome relief from the under-fives that have dominated my runs since March.  I felt much better during this run, from the lack of pressure to beat any timings.  The first time that I was under no-pressure in many months.

We finished the run after about 2hr 6min for the 19km, though I added something to the distance and time by my prior run to the generator before the start, and my final run to my hood after the run.  Another half marathon had just been conquered, under the tutelage of my mwanafunzi.  Impressive student I have here!

The painful right biceps femoris tendon was all but forgotten by the time the run was finished.  I was still basking in the feel-good from the day’s run.  The first group run since the First Lady’s Beyond Zero marathon of March 8.

I was soon seated by the computer screen when the inevitable TT numbers were splashed onto my face.  13,612,182 infections worldwide with 584,163 deaths.  Good news is that the mortality rate had remained 4% for the last three months, but half a million dead is not something that you want to even mention.  Kenya's share of the stats was 11,252 confirmed cases, with 209 deaths.  

But for the first time there was also good news.  A new candidate vaccine had shown promise as being ready for mass testing after passing through the first two phases of trials.  The Moderna mRNA-1273 promises to be the vaccine to watch.  However, there are over 60 candidate vaccines* at various stages of trials.  The forerunners are Moderna, Novavax, Sinovac, Inovio, Sinopharm, AstraZeneca, CanSino, Cadila, BioNTech and Bharat.   

Finally!  TT is going to be defeated, and soon.  It is now just a matter of time, before we go back to ‘real’ group runs.  I kept thinking of the upcoming triumph… even as I started experiencing that pain on my right leg… many hours after the group run.

(*https://covidvax.news/progress/)

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

Unlocking the locked runner… really?

Unlocking the locked runner… really?

Mondays are run days.  I therefore had no choice but to be ready for this run over the lunch hour.  I was quite rested after 2-days of no runs.  I was ready for this run – just another Monday run.  This run also coincided with the staggering numbers of COVID19 infections – 11,630,803 with 538,177 deaths worldwide with the motherland having 8,067 cases with 164 deaths, as per worldometers stats. 

I was also aware that Kenya would be making an announcement on what next, following the expiry of the three-month lockdown from leaving the city and dusk-to-dawn curfew.  We were to know whether we would face a fourth month locked in or we would finally be let free.  I was not holding my breath on this.  If anything, I was expecting an extension of the lockdown and curfew, based on the rising number of infections locally and internationally.

I started the run at 12.55pm.  The weather was good, meaning no sunshine and not cold either.  The cloud cover formed a big umbrella shielding us from the sun even as I started the run.  I was relaxed and well rested as I did this run.  It was a good feeling.  My mind was generally blank.  I was repeating the Friday route, which was now well etched into my memory.  I could even close my eyes and run this half marathon and navigate through the whole circuit.

I was soon at Ndumbo stage, passing by as I heard the various radios from motorbikes, kiosks, parked vehicles, moving vehicles and all…. “Fellow Kenyans….”
I could not hear the rest since I was already past all these collection of radios in a moment and was now running down towards Wangari Maathai institute, then towards the river, ready for the uphill towards KAGRI.

As I passed KAGRI towards the Lower Kabete tarmac, I got to the collection of three or so motorbikes parked at the road junction.  Two people were seated on a bench, just next to the bikes besides the road.  They were playing draughts, with the radios on…. “… this pandemic…” is all I heard as I passed by and turned left ready for the uphill towards the Mary Leakey turnoff.  

It is at this very junction while turning left that some minute insect got into my left nostril – just like that!  Out of nowhere! 
“Atchoooo!”
Nothing doing. 
The nostril remained itchy, but I kept going towards the Mary Leakey turnoff about two minutes away.

At the turnoff, I got those vehicles that have now been turned into market stalls, with all manner of groceries and fruits on display and sale, within and on top of the vehicles.  Their radios were on, with the few people around the vehicles – buyers and sellers – continuing their chat.  I am not even sure if they were listening, but the sound was loud enough… “… gender-based…” I heard as I passed them on that left turn.

I was now going towards Mary Leakey school and soon towards the river on the dry weather road.  It was a bit deserted, save for one bike that passed me by, going same direction.  Its radio was on... “… fellow Kenyans…” the bike was already gone way ahead, and I could not get anymore of the sound.

Soon I was taking the right turn that gets you ready to face the university farm.  It would take about ten minutes to run through this trail to emerge at the Kanyariri tarmac road.  This section of the road would usually not have anyone – and it did not disappoint on this day – there was no one through the almost ten-minute run.  There was no radio sound at all on this footpath… in fact no sound at all.  It was quite quiet!
Many “Atchoooos!” later and that nitwit finally got out of my nostril just in time to enable me breath freely enough in preparation to hit the tarmac at ‘the tank’.

I turned right at the tank, to join the Kanyariri tarmac where I would run for about fifteen minutes, before making a U-turn.  At this ‘the tank’ turnoff, I saw one motorbike parked just besides the road on the newly constructed shed.  The radio was on, “… wakenya wenzangu…”

I was already too gone to hear any more, as I faced this road that is usually generally deserted.  You encounter very few vehicles.  None of the vehicles that pass by had their radios on, hence I did not get much more news on this day when we expected the ‘big’ announcement on what happens next after 3-months of lockdown.

There were no more radio announcements by the time I got to Kanyariri shopping centre.  If anything, I just heard some music coming out of the various radio items that adorned that part of the geography – be it from inside shops, from the passing motorbikes or from the walkers.  Either these people did not give-a-dee about the announcement, or the announcement was over. 

I would not get to know the final decision of announcement while on the run, not with these two-word sounds that I was getting over time.  I was soon doing the U-turn and started my run back on Kanyariri road tarmac, enjoying the downhill all the way to Ndumbo river, then a short uphill to Ndumbo centre, then to Waiyaki way and finally, crossing the Waiyaki at Kabete Poly ready for the home run.

I had to run some errands immediately after the lunch-hour run, hence did not have any time to check on what the verdict of the powers were, on whether we would be having a fourth month confined in the city or not.  It would soon be evening, and the local news was quite clear on what had happened – lockdown is off, curfew is still on, with effect from July 7.  I did not have a reaction.  I did not know how to react.  After over 90-days of restricted movement, I was not sure of what this new status would mean.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, July 6, 2020

When U-turn means you-turn

When U-turn means you-turn

Today is a Saturday, a rest day in my world of marathon.  I could not help but notice the COVID19 figures as the first thing that popped out of the webpages when I opened up the internet – 11,204,889 people infected worldwide with 529,380 deaths.  The motherland had the figures as 7,188 and 154 as the respective figures.  This TT thing was now on a loose leash.  It had gone rogue.  

Attempts to tame TT had so far provided futile.  However, very promising drugs and vaccines were already in the works.  It shall be just a matter of time before the untamable is tamed.  I am confident that we shall be celebrating Christmas in conquest.  But that means five other months of total hardship, including lockdowns, restrictions, curfews, facemasks, social-distancing, handwashing, no meetings of more than ten, no group events such as marathons, and all other manner of inconveniences – for another five months!

I am not waiting five months for life to get back to the trajectory of pre-March.  I am continuing with life now… today… daily.  If I want to go for a run, then that is what I shall do.  If I feel like taking a break, then that is exactly what I shall do.  How about running a half a marathon over the lunch hour?  If that is what comes to me, then that is what I shall do.  In other words, I am living life to the fullest, one day at a time… and that one day is today!  The alternative would be to stop living and hideaway somewhere in total fear of TT.  I a’int taking that alternative – not me!

I could even take a run today, despite it being a rest day.  This is the new mantra – doing what I want, when I want.  I am glad that I have been true to the three-runs-a-week schedule for the longest of time, in fact, since the lockdown and curfew was declared in mid-March.  These runs are done Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.  They keep me going.  They keep me sane, from the otherwise stressed and locked-down world.  

I was on the road yesterday, Friday, for another routine run.  It went well.  There was nothing noteworthy.  However, I managed to do my U-turn in the middle of the tarmac, just in time to ensure that I did a manageable run at the lunch hour.  A lesson that I had learnt on Wednesday.

Two days prior was a Wednesday.  A day for yet another run.  This is the run whose details I would like to share today.  I was a bit lethargic on that day.  I am not sure what is happening to me.  The tiredness had progressively been manifesting in the last two weeks.  I probably need a rest from the shock of hitting my feet continually on mostly the tarmac, for over 90-minutes.  I however had to obey the Wednesday call-for-run and hence just got out and went for the run, starting at 12.45pm.

The weather was cool on this Wednesday.  It was overcast, and there was possibility of rain within the afternoon.  This is a good weather for any runner over a long distance.  It was good for me, as I felt the cooling effect of the cool air over my skin as I ran through it.  It was a ‘cool’ run.  I could still feel the pain on the legs and the resistance from pushing forward, but I kept forcing myself forward and would soon be crossing Waiyaki way to run on the other edge of the road all the way to the Uthiru flyover, where I would run underneath, turn right around the big roundabout, then turn left towards Ndumbo – the usual ‘new route’, after the blocking of the Vet ‘wall’ and ‘gating’ of the loop.

My run started feeling normal after I had passed by Ndumbo, and was now facing the downhill towards Wangari Maathai institute and the river.  The lethargy was all but gone.  The tiredness was no longer an issue.  I was now in the mood of the run.  I could do it.  I was doing it.  I would eventually join Lower Kabete road and turn left for the three-minutes uphill run, then the left turn to Mary Leakey route.  The left turn brings with it the rough dry weather road that shall persist until the University farm to emerge at ‘the tank’.  Normally, I would have to run back on this route on my way back.  This very route where that young blood decided to interrupt my run and ask me the many questions on Monday, earlier in the week.  

I was still running, generally absorbing the beauty of the greenery and almost eerie silence, then the spur of the moment thought came to me that I probably should not get back through this route on my way back.  Maybe I should just run down to Ndumbo using the direct tarmac.  I kept running while thinking of this alternative spur-of-the-moment route.  I was now already at the tank, and was turning right to join the Kanyariri tarmac.  On Monday I had run to the crossroad, about two kilometres ahead, then turned back, and had to run through the University farm once more on my way back.  I wanted to avoid running back through the farm on this Wednesday.  But avoiding that farm route meant losing 4km distance, since the direct route from tank to Ndumbo was just about two kilometres, while the loop back through the farm was about 6km.

I kept running towards Kanyariri, still calculating how to recover these 4km if I was surely avoiding the farm.  Compensating that distance would mean running way past the crossroad.  How much way past, I could not yet figure out.  My guess was that a run all the way to Gitaru market would be about the 2k and the way back would give me another 2k – mission accomplished.  I could as well just choose any point on the run and do a U-turn, provided it was a reasonable-enough based on time taken to reach that point.  These were just calculations going on in my mind.  In normal preparation, I would usually measure up a route on Google maps, but this time I was doing it on the run.  I just had to rely on instinct and gut to decide my run distance on this Wednesday.

I finally settled on Gitaru market as the turning point.  I continued running and soon started tackling the Gitaru uphill that goes for about a kilometre.  The plan was to then circle around the market on the way back.  Sharp U-turns are not good for the run.  Gentle turning-back routes, such as cycling something like a market, are preferable.  That is why I thought of going round the market, instead of just doing a U-turn in the middle of the tarmac.  

I have also noticed that observers and passers-by judge runners harshly when they see them doing U-turns ‘out of nowhere’.  They tend to think that you are ‘lost’ or were even ‘upto something’ (bad) leading to the abrupt, out of nowhere turnback.  That is the reason why I tend to get a gentle turn back through some route that keeps going but still gets you back.  Going round the market would achieve this.

I was just about to turn right to circle the market, just under the railway flyover at Gitaru when I noticed that a vehicle had obstructed the entry to that footpath around the market.  I could still easily find a way past, but I observed that the rest of the road seemed to filled-up by market people.  It seemed that I would have trouble going through and round using that route.  It was now the moment of truth.  I had to do that dreaded U-turn in the middle of the tarmac and start going back.

It did not happen!  

My body refused to give those merchandize-people-all-along-the-both-sides-of-the-road the comfort of noticing my being ‘lost’ as I turned back.  I instead kept going.  I was now heading to unplanned territory.  I would have to do the ‘international marathon’ route.  The one that takes you towards Nakuru highway to the Kikuyu junction on the by-pass, then gets you round the outer circle of the Gitaru market, to emerge round the same Gitaru market as you joint Kanyariri road, ready for the way back.  That was unplanned and unfortunately was now on the works following the failure to do my U-turn twice before.

It is long since I was on this section of the road.  The last time I was here was probably in March.  However, nothing much had changed.  The matatu stage at Gitaru highway was still as busy as usual.  The road interchange for Nakuru highway-Wangige road at Gitaru was still under construction, with vehicles from the Nakuru highway still being forced to get through Gitaru shopping centre before rejoining Waiyaki way.  Upon joining Wangige road, I still noticed that the roadworks on this road were still ongoing, without much change.  Three months later and nothing seemed to have been done!  Wow!, roadworks can be slow!

I was now already deep into a lunch hour run, on a distance that I had not planned for.  I really wished that I would lay my hands on some water, which I had not carried since such a long run was not on the initial plans for the days.  I was as thirsty as a rock.  I would soon be dehydrated, but the weather helped by remaining cool.  I eventually rejoined Kanyariri road to start my run back.  This section of the road is generally downhill all the way to Ndumbo river.  You just let go and you find yourself at the river thirty-minutes later.  

After the downhill, I finally started on the last uphill from the river to Ndumbo market.  The section did not bring forth anything to distract my run.  The run was now just about done.  I had only three more kilometres from under the flyover, through Waiyaki way, then crossing at Kabete Poly to the finish.  The weather remained great as I kicked off those last steps to the finish line, stopping my timer at the 28.63km mark after 2hr 17min 11sec.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, July 4, 2020