The May international in June – when the pain is delayed

The May international in June – when the pain is delayed

The pain would come in two days later.  I had thought that the worst was gone, but how wrong could I be?  I could hardly wake up this Friday, two days after the run.  My legs were hurting, especially round the knees.  I knew that it was that Wednesday run.

On that Wednesday, two days ago, I had started my run at 12.30pm on the dot.  The weather was great, with just the right intensity of sun.  The air was, however, a bit still.  I would have preferred some windiness.  There was no breeze, but it was a bit cool.  The sun was still suffering from the defeat of the long months of rain that persisted most of April and May.  School reopening date even had to be postponed by a week due to these selfsame rains that had rendered the country mostly flooded.  The rain clouds had now generally retreated and left a dry spell that had lasted for over one week.  The last real rain must have been at the end of May.  The sun has since been progressively trying to shine back to its glory while the rain clouds subside.

This lunch hour was no different.  The clouds were still trying to stop the sun rays at intervals as I started the run.  The run started well and I already had an idea of the run distant.  I was cognizant that I had missed the May marathon that was to be held on May 31.  I was however on a bus for the long 8-hour trip to Western Kenya on that marathon Friday.  I had for a moment thought that I would skip the May marathon after that miss.  However, I was sticking to the marathoners motto of ‘running is a must’, and here I was, finding myself doing a compensatory marathon on this twelfth day of the month.

“If you want me to cancel a run, then ensure that we do not cross the gate,” I have been telling my folks, and that saying remained true on this day.

I started feeling a pain on my right wheel as I started the run, hardly before reaching the exit gate.  This was just after a short warmup run of 4kms.

“Let me just push it to Kabete Poly and see how it goes,” I lied to myself as I exited the gate.  

I knew that an exit through that gate meant that I was going for the full run – come rain, come shine; come pain, come relief!  But do not take my word for it.  It was just last month during a similar compensatory run that I was rained on most of the way, and I still survived.  Sanity could have called for a dropping off, but the spirit of ‘running-is-must’ could however hear none of that.

The leg pain persisted to the 7km mark at Ndumboini market.  From there on I got some relief as I went downhill towards Wangari Maathai institute down onto Kapenguria road all the way to the river.  I would then take the 1km uphill on the same road to join Lower Kabete road five minutes later.  The sun was still overhead.  The air was still still.

I turned right towards UON Lower Kabete campus, and kept going.  The road was generally deserted of walkers, though the vehicular traffic of occasional matatus and mostly private vehicles traversed the road at intervals.  I approached two cops armed with Kalashnikovs just before the campus, also walking on the sidewalk heading the same direction.  

I thud my feet loudly as I approached their backs to alert them of my approach.  I did not want an incident where they pretend to have been run-towards and had to ‘do something’ in self-defense.  They both momentarily turn back as I get within range and soon after, overtake them.  I benefit from their “anakimbia na hii jua” comment.  I am happy that the complement is a bit mild this time round.  I have heard worse description of runners before, let me just leave it at that.

I keep going.  I meet a crowd of people around the campus.  I am running on the opposite edge of the road next to the campus compound, but even on this opposite sidewalk I do encounter people who look and behave like college students.  If it looks and behaves like one, then it is one!  But trust me, I know, have been there.  Same uni, different campus.  

Who else can display the following behaviours, if not the students?  To start with, I approach a group of three guys all of whom are walking all across the narrow one metre wide footpath.  And, do you expect them to give way?  No way!  They force me to leave the sidewalk and get around them through the rough grass patch between the tarmac and the sidewalk.  I feel like being angry, even uttering a curse, but I force myself not to.  It is the age.  

Soon thereafter I encounter another group of about five.  By this time the campus gate is just on the other side of the main tarmac.  These five are chattering and laughing loudly and animatedly.  They have no care in the world.  The world is theirs.  They almost remind me of that, and I guess are ready to tell me to ‘runner bow down’.  They even give me the benefit of a story about what they did over the weekend.  It is more of who did what to who, but I do get to listen to the eventualities, since my footsteps are already retreated.

I soon pass by that hullabaloo of the campus gate area and keep going towards Kenya School of Government, and soon out onto the leafy surburbs of Lower Kabete with hardly any walkers around.  I keep going.  The run is now imbedded into my system and I have reached cruising level.  I am just going through the motions in this quiet environment.  

I pass by the Farasi group of roads, one after another, that is, Farasi road, Farasi close and Farasi lane.  It is a relief when I finally get to Ngecha road junction just next to Zen gardens.  I check on the tower clock at the junction.  It is now 1.40pm.  I know that I have another kilometre or so, before I do the U-turn.  I keep going on the Lower Kabete road and then divert to Spring Valley road for the short run to the U-turn point above the Red Hill road.

It is a welcome relief to do that U.  The run is now at least halfway done.  I now just need to survive the run back.  I am still energetic and rearing to go.  The weather has remained good so far.  My good fortunes however come to an end when I am back to Lower Kabete road and now have to do an uphill run all the way to UON campus.  That is a whole 5km of uphill.  I persevere and persist.  I am, however, getting tired and I can feel it.  I wish for a sip of water, though I have none.  I wish for a shot of coke or a bite of a melon, but those are just wishes on this Wednesday.  I almost start losing my senses as I pass the campus heading back towards Kapenguria road.

One thing you learn as a marathoner is to learn to listen to your body and know when it can easily give up on you.  This giving up is sometimes called ‘hitting the wall’.  I start imagining that I may hit the wall.  My situation is just due to the dehydration.  I had underestimated the effects of the heat of the sun.  It seems to have been sucking the energy and fluids from me for over two hours now.  I am also losing my sense of perception.  

I know that I shall soon be on free fall if I do not do something about the situation.  I deliberately switch the phone that has my timer, from hand to hand in short intervals, just to keep my senses engaged.  That action, after about ten reps, brings me back to reality just as I reach the river in readiness for the 2km uphill run to Ndumbo.  I almost give up when imagining that Wangari Maathai hill, but I also envisage the relief from the cool orange juice in my fridge and keep running as I look forward to how it shall bring me back to life in another 20 or so minutes – if I make it.

And making it I do, when I finish that devastating hill and now has only the short run along Waiyaki way, then past Kabete Poli(ce) then Kabete Poly(tech) and soon to the finish line.

“Leo kweli uliwezwa,” the sentries welcome me back laughingly as they open the gate as I head to the finish line.

I am too tired to even respond in affirmation.  I do not even know how I get the energy to wave back in resignation.  I soon thereafter reach the finish line and collapse on my seat wondering, “Why do we even run!”.

That question is soon answered when I access that cold juice after a shower.  I am rejuvenated and my body feels different.  I cannot describe this exactly, but it is some form of jumpiness.  A mixture of tiredness and satisfaction.  Just the feeling of a run.  No, we do not run for the 27.25km distance of this Wednesday done in 2:31:10.  That would be bad motivation and we would not even want to be on the sun for that long.  There must be another reason why we run.  Maybe we just wait and find out about the real reason when we do the next monthly international marathon on the last Friday of June.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, June 14, 2024