The run that I did not finish… almost

The run that I did not finish… almost

Runs can be mean!  And no other run has turned out to be meaner than the August international marathon of Friday, August 25, 2023.  This was meant to be a run like any other.  I had already done seven other similar runs and they had all turned just fine.  I did not think anything of this eighth run on the 2023 calendar.  If anything, my last run early in this same month had been a 30k on the same route within 2hr 43min, and it came and went without much ado.

That last run had been my motivation as a prepared for this August run.  My mind was already preparing for a repeat of this 30.  My scheme was to do a 42k full marathon this Friday.  Let me explain….

I had started my day by walking to a medical centre at Kangemi on Waiyaki way.  It was a routine 3km walk to the centre and another three back.  Something had, however, been off with that particular visit.  I had arrived early, as early as nine, and found the centre just preparing to start their operations, which they should have started at eight.  I even picked ticket numero uno.

I was momentarily at the pharmacy, where I presented my medical card and started waiting for the attendant to finally call me up.  The centre had gone paperless and I therefore did not have a prescription to present.  It was somewhere doing rounds ‘in the system’.  He called me up at some point, after a forever wait.  He soon pointed to some paper and asked me to sign.  He then asked me to pick my card as he presented back one copy of the signed receipt.

The procedure did not seem right, but I still picked up the card.  I was just about to leave, when I decided to ask him if he had done any billing.  I know the billing process should have required the scanning of a fingerprint and all, which had not happened yet.

“Oh em gee!,” he exclaimed, “Imagine, I forgot!  Place the card on the reader again.”

I was taking my black tea some one hour later after that event that it dawned on me that that pharmacist had not given me the medicine.  It was therefore with lots of curses that I did another 3k walk back to Kangemi to go and get the medicine, before I ‘cursingly’ walked another three back to the office.  Anyway, bad things happen to even good people, so it was just one of those bad days.

I took a lunch hour coffee while still feeling good and ready for the run.  I had already registered 12km on my legs so far, and was already scheming to add another 30k run to the mix.  That would give me the magical 42k – a full marathon all in one day!  Can there be any other better day than this?

I started the run at 1600 hours.  Mathew had already informed me that he was not joining in.  It was therefore going to be a lonely run, but a runner gotta do what a runner gotta do, so it was all well.  The weather was just perfect.  Just a bit of sun, but not that type of sun that burns.  It was the type that jus keeps you warm.  The air was still.  I wished it was a bit windy, but not today.  I would have to run on the still heated air but with a moderate solar heat, so not bad.

My troubles started on the fifth kilometre as I was running downhill towards Wangari Maathai institute on Kapenguria road, after having gone past Kabete Poly, crossed the Waiyaki way and had joined Kapenguria road.  I had already passed through the Ndumboini stage and survived the matatu and motorbike madness that keeps that road junction impassible.

Contrary to expectations, running downhill is never easy.  However, it should also not be very tedious.  In my case I could hardly ‘roll’ down.  My legs started developing a strange sense of tiredness.  I did self-talk to the effect that the downhill would soon come to an end, and I would eventually face the uphill towards Lower Kabete road.  It did not get better.  The uphill became worse than I thought.  It was just painful climbing that hill, where I was sprinting hardly twenty days ago.

Another self-talk propelled me upto Lower Kabete road and I did the left turn to run on the mild hill towards the rough road to Mary Leakey school and eventually to the University farm.  It got worse!  Worse I tell you!  And it did not improve, it kept getting worse!

My legs could hardly move, even as I finally crossed through the Uni farm and emerged at the tank on Kanyariri road tarmac.  It is at this point that I almost just turned back to my left to get to Ndumboini and back to the finish.  But even that very thought was a bit of a stretch!  My real intention was just to DNF* at this point and take a motorbike back, and there were plenty waiting at the roadside boda boda stage.

*DNF – ‘did not finish’, one of those things that happen to others, and you wish does not happen to you

I looked at my timer.  It had recorded just 13k.  Here I was ready to stop my run at just 13k!  I was not going to think any twice about this decision.  This was it.  I had had it for the day.  Of course, I could try and squeeze some run into the equation and run the about 4k back to the finish and register a 17k marathon.  But any thought of the way ‘run’ was just painful at this point.  However, it is this very thought of doing ‘just 17k’ that shamed me into action.  I do a 17 on a typical lunch hour run!  How can I register the same on a monthly international marathon?

I found myself caught up between a ‘13k DNF’, a ‘17k marathon’ or doing something about this run to still salvage it.  My mind instructed me to salvage it and forced my hardly movable legs into action.  I turned right and continued onto Kanyariri road, counting every painful step as I went along.  For the first time I kept a close watch on my watch, waiting for a 15k turnback point to eventually show up on the screen.  I was going to make a turnback at 15k and be heading back home, if I was even going to get to that point.  It was that bad!

I finally, amid hardly-movable legs, made a U-turn at the 15k mark somewhere along Kanyariri road and started running back towards Ndumboini.  My legs were tired and painful with every step.

“What did I get myself into,” I found myself saying out loudly at some point as I faced the Ndumboini hill.

“What did I get myself into,” I kept repeating audibly as the hill slowed me down almost to a standstill.

It is now about two weeks later, but I cannot tell you how I even managed to finish that run.  I do not know what was happening to me on that day.  I just know that I eventually reached the finish after 21.15km in 2.04.44, recording my PW (personal worst time).  I was just a few more steps before I could have collapsed.  I am glad that I finished run before this happened.  On reflection, I now know that even those 12km walks that I did earlier in the day counted.  I had initially assumed that they would have no bearing on my performance but I was wrong.  Even a seasoned runner can be wrong.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Sep. 8, 2023