Route 11 run – passing the mock and failing the exam!
The boycott
This was a boycotted run from day ‘announced’. It was initially scheduled for Friday, November 29 but hardly had the announcement sank before we had to reschedule it to a week early. This was because several ’elite’ runners had informed the MoE* that they would not be participating if the date was not changed.
It was a quick action on the part of MoE to move the run to November 22. This was hoped to ‘appease’ the elites, who are usually the main sponsors of this run. They sponsor by participating and pulling a group along. Take four of such elites, multiply by the groups that they pull along and you have a big marathon. Do the converse and you can guess how it shall go.
*MoE – marathoners of expert, organizing committee of the marathons
On that same day that the MoE were rescheduling, there was a call amongst the MoE to scout the route. As a general guiding rule, the ‘international’ runs cannot be held without a scouting and re-measurement of the route. This is usually to confirm that the route still existed and that it was at least 21.1km as per international standards.
The last time this route was in use was during the July International, code name ‘the unveiling’, when we unveiling our branded merchandise. Five months later and many things could have happened. These are the ‘many things’ that needed to be discovered in good time, before the run and hence planned for. You cannot send out an international team of international athletes before the route is confirmed to still be of international standards. It is a never!
“Hands up anyone who can volunteer to check out the route before next week,” I posed to the MoE.
All hands remained down.
“Surely, we need to scout the route, don’t we?”
Hands remained down. Voices remained muted.
“So will we just run it?”
No answer.
Scout it out
When I left the starting point on Monday, November 18 to scout the route I did not know what awaited my run. I had not been on this route since my last ‘half’ on August 7, when I did a 1.43.25. At that time the Waiyaki way was still being expanded from Kangemi towards Uthiru. The major works had not yet taken over the Uthiru section.
I was hoping for the same old situation when I hit it out on this Monday evening. This was not to be. I faced the first struggle when trying to cross the now expanded and almost finished up Waiyaki way road section at Uthiru, just after Kabete Poly.
“This shall disturb the runners,” I made a mental note as I waited for more than a minute to get a chance to cross the first section of the road of three lanes, to get to the middle island between the roads. After the middle island, I had to cross the other side of the road used by oncoming vehicles. This was another three lane road, followed by a barrier, then yet another two other lanes after that half meter barrier.
“This is worse than I thought!,” I did another mental, though this side of the road was not as busy as the side that I had just crossed. Nonetheless, one had to jump over the half metre barrier – which was not a comfortable leap when doing a run, or even when walking.
However, the ‘same old’ came back immediately after crossing this wide road. Just the run as it should be, through Kanyariri road all the way to Nakuru highway at Gitaru market, then a turn to Wangige road for the short half k that then leads to the right road to get you round the market and back to Kanyariri road.
But turning onto Wangige road brought a new experience. This half k section was under construction. The vehicles were being diverted to a narrow side road, while the profile of the once original road was a now a heap of soil and busy heavy machinery. I even had to stop and re-evaluate my options on how to proceed – either by walking on the drainage cover that was still under construction on my right, or battle it out with the vehicles on the narrow muddy road on the left of the heap.
Road closed
It did not take long to be told, “Just go through here,” the person who looked like a contractor of the road, due to his reflector jacket, pointed as he responded to my query as to where I should follow to get through. He did not have any qualms on the narrowness of the temporary road, nor the volume of traffic that I was already seeing struggling to jostle for all the hardly available space. I was tempted to ask him an “Are you sure” question but thought the better of it. Aren’t these adrenaline inducing moments, such as the battle with the machines on the road, the fun of the run anyway?
I walked and ran along as I tried my best to get through. The vehicles and motorbikes were full of hooting and gestures as I went along, opposite their approach. I finally survived the scare and finished the run.
After my run, I had informed the MoE of my experience on the road. They authorized a communique to the runners before the Friday run. It therefore came as no surprise to those in the inner circle when this information was included in the final call for the run on Friday…
“
Precaution –
1) be careful as you cross Waiyaki way at Kabete Polytechnic, which is now expanded with many lanes and a barrier on one side. Vehicles have right of way. Take your time and only cross when the road is clear.
2) the road from Gitaru market towards Wangige is under construction. All traffic (vehicles, construction vehicles, pedestrians, motorcyclists) have to squeeze onto the temporary narrow side road. Nonetheless, vehicles (and specifically motorbikes) have right of way – do not dare them. Run easy on this section, or just walk. Do not dare these machines!!
”
Can’t be happening
By the time of that particular announcement on Friday, everything that could go wrong had already gone wrong. Even the coach was surely going to boycott his own organized run! This started on the same Monday that I did the scouting, stopping my timer after 1.42.42 for 21.28k. All of a sudden, I was just hit by a ‘feel bad’ on my body as I took that shower after the run. By Tuesday I was already feeling something strange creeping within.
By Wednesday I was so out of normalcy and I could not even imagine that the Wednesday midweek runs still existed on our three-times a week run schedule. I saw my two Eng-thoners run it out over the lunch hour while I sat on my desk wondering how it was even possible to run. I could not imagine treading the tarmac for anything in the world.
Then the bug hit! It did so just before I took supper – I just felt the pain on my lower right jaw and it started intensifying with every passing minute. By the time I had given up on trying to eat due to the pain that accompanied every movement of the jaw, I knew that I was heading for trouble. But ‘imagining trouble’ and ‘getting trouble’ ain’t the same!
By the time I was about to hit the sack at midnight on the Wednesday, I had fire burning in my mouth! The pain was pulsating like a heartbeat. I am even convinced that the heartbeat was responsible for the rhythm of the pain. I turned and tossed and turned and tossed some more – but the pain intensified with every turn and toss. It was a night with a mouthmare!
It was a bad night. I did not even wake up. I was awake whole night. I just got out of bed without knowing my next move. Instinct was directing me to just try to sleep, though duty was calling. I also had an important meeting to preside over – one of those that you have planned for, for over four months.
“I will do this and I am out to the doc,” I told my lazy walking body as the pain on my right lower jaw persisted. I could not eat or drink. I just walked with a now slightly swollen jaw. I could hardly talk. I just pretended to speak normally but I was really struggling. I did not even try out the plenty of tea and snacks provided for the meeting. Each item on the serving table reminded me of the anticipated pain if I dared.
“Mwalimu, leo hauli samo?,” a departmental colleague attending the meeting at the new auditorium asked, a mixture of smiles and wonder on his face.
“Later, after masomo,” I responded, struggling to sound normal, a beam on my face. I was lying.
November is December
I was on the phone with the doc’s clinic immediately after the seminar that ended at twelve-thirty.
“When is the earliest that I can see doc?”
“Let me check,” the respondent stated and went quiet for some time, each second counted by the number of painful pulses passing through my lower jaw, “How about December 4 as per your originally scheduled checkup”
“You are kidding, right!?,” I almost shouted out loud, but I did not. Instead I did say, “This cannot wait. I have a new situation”
Another, “Let me check,”, another pause, then, “Kesho at nine, how about that?”
“Can’t it be earlier?”
“Nope, Doc reports at nine. That is the earliest”
“I will be there.”
I did not eat anything on Thursday. I struggled with a cup of tea. Ending up taking it cold after waiting for the ‘right moment’ which never came. I just had to force it down. Though my Thursday night was not as mouthmare-ish, I still felt the pain and the swelling was evident. I was out of the house Friday by eight. The first matatu that could leave Uthiru took me towards Kawangware, while I did not care paying 50 shillings to town, though I was alighting just at Adams. I was just in need of a relief.
A brief exam on the dental chair is all that was needed before the verdict was out.
“We have figured out what was causing the pain,” the doc declared.
I have noted that she liked using ‘we’, just like you do when writing a research paper. However, I could only see her alone at the upstairs clinic room.
“We have noted an infection that need urgent and immediate attention, otherwise…. Big trouble. We sense big trouble!”
The known unknown
The x-ray machine that I was sent to, at the downstairs clinic cube failed after only one of the expected three runs had been done. I was left seated with a heavy lead jacket while the doc was being consulted on the next action.
While seated, doing nothing, I wondered why humanity calls these rays as x-rays. In 1895 when they were discovered, they were surely ‘x’, unknown. But now we know them, don’t we? Wouldn’t calling them the ‘rays between UV and Gamma’ be too much trouble, or too mouthful? Maybe be RBUVAG abbreviation would be easier on the mouth?
I would end up being sent for RBUVAG rays, OK, x-ray procedure at Upper Hill and to a pharmacy at Hurlingham!
“Am I your patience or a tourist?,” I almost asked the receptionist. These two locations were worlds apart! I however did not have time to care.
By this time the lidocaine anaethesia had cooled things down. I was back to almost normal. I had still not eaten anything since the last failed dinner. I found myself walking to Prestige, then to Yaya, then to Hurlingham for the medicine. From there, another 20 minutes’ walk took me to Upper Hill for the RBUVGA rays, sorry, x-ray.
I was still waiting to be booked for the x-ray when the phone rang. I ignored the unknown number. After a short disconnection, it did ring again. Another ignore led to another ring.
“Eh, Hello, Who is it?”
“This is the chemist. You left your medicine.”
“Wait, say what?”
“I am calling from the chemist, remember, Hurlingham chemist? You left your medicine!”
This ‘you left your medicine’ blame was surely their own making. I had initially wanted to just pick the three packs and shove them into my bag but they insisted on parking them ‘properly’. The next thing I remember being given was the medical card as I left the premises.
“So I have to go back to Hurlingham! This is just great,” I murmured even as my name was called to the upstairs x-ray room.
Double walk
I was facing another walk back to Hurlingham, then yet another walk back to Adams to get my matatu back to Uthiru, which were not on the initial plan. The initial plan would have been to get a matatu at Upper Hill KNH stage and go straight to Uthiru.
This change of plans did not even consider that I had not yet taken anything, solid or liquid since morning. These walks were taking out all that I had. I had already trekked for 10km by the time I stood at the stage just past Adams waiting for the Kawangware matatu. It had to be past Adams since the road construction had now removed the Adams stage.
It is also at this point of waiting for the matatu that I got the first reminder of the run. In reaction to the walking stats on Runkeeper, Janet had posted a message, “Yenyewe you can walk fast!”
“I have to make it to route 11,” I responded.
It did not take long before I saw her message on the runners WhatsApp, that she was also joining route 11.
“I shall be doing a virtual run today,” she posted.
“Very funny,” I smiled widely, as I momentarily took my gaze off the phone to look around for any approaching matatu that should take me to Kawangware. There was none yet.
A virtual run means sitting in the house, with the only run done being the slow walk to the kitchen to fix yourself a drink of your choice while running your fingers through the remote of the TV.
It was on the same matatu stage that I also saw the other postings by runners who were joining in on route 11. Edu posted a message on how hot it was at Turkana on Thursday as he did a run there. His message did not need interpretation. He was nearer to Ethiopia than Nairobi.
Beryl had already informed me that she was running in Ug on November 23. She left it to my interpretation as to whether she would be anywhere near route 11. Bad news is better left to the interpretation. It sinks deeper that way.
No run, just walk
I eventually got to Kawangware and could easily have taken another matatu to Uthiru, instead, I did a last walk from Kawangware to Uthiru knowing for sure that ‘Route 11’ was off. I was just recovering from a strange bug, while my body was in need of carbos and fluids, and hence was not the right candidate for the run.
My regular participants had either ran virtually, ran far north or ran in the neighbourhood. Additionally, the elites who had called for change of date had not indicated that they would participate on this new date, a date specifically rescheduled for their benefit!
That message about the ‘precaution’ on route 11 was therefore just a formality. It would not be of any benefit to anybody.
Two bananas and a glass of soda later, and I found myself starting to be back to normal. It was now two o'clock. I was not worrying much since I was now just getting back to taking some solids into my system. I would assimilate slowly over time. Maybe try some carbos at dinner?. Maybe.
I was not going to run as a convalescent on this serious international. I would skip it with feeling. Bad things happen on unexpected days. That day turned out to be today – just when we are scheduled for an international marathon.
Mock or exams?
When I went to the Generator, the usual starting point of the marathon, at four-forty-five, all dressed up, pretending to be ready for a run, I did not expect to find anyone at the starting line. I was not disappointed. It was true.
“Umeona wakimbiaji wowote hapa?,” I asked the sentry who sits at the next block.
(*Have you seen any runners around?)
“Tangu saa kumi sijaona mtu.”
(*None)
“I knew it!,” I said loudly.
“Kweli sijaona mtu. Ni wewe wa kwanza”
(*You are the only one so far)
My mission was to wish those running well, as I explained my situation and hence why I was skipping the run. There was nobody to explain nothing to. I was just standing there, generated, alone! I therefore just started the timer, for the love of the game, for the love of the team, and flagged myself off for the eleventh international marathon, codename ‘route 11’. There is no way that this run would go un-ran.
I was soon on the road running, carbo-loaded or not. Convalescing or not. Ready or not! The run turned out to be just as it had been doing the scouting mock of Monday five days ago. Same route, same challenges at Waiyaki and Wangige, same 10km of hill and almost the same time – 1.43.14 for 21.26km. I however failed to score what I did get on the Monday mock which was 1.42.42.
WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Nov. 22, 2019
