Will vaccination ever end? Of booster vaccine 4... and 5

Will vaccination ever end?  Of booster vaccine 4... and 5

It was almost 12.25pm when I saw the missed call from Edu.  I had kept the phone in the pocket of my coat that was hanging on my seat and did not hear it vibralert me of his incoming call.  I immediately knew what it was all about.  It was another ‘runday Wednesday’ and I was being called to action.

However, this was not to be.  I was just ‘recovering’ from the very painless corona vaccination on the left arm this time round, after that right arm fiasco of January.  I had enquired before sitting on that chair, facing the small refrigerated container.  This had been placed on a table just in front of the seating position in the small makeshift booth.  This booth had been curved out of a large normally open meeting room, to create some privacy.

“My last vaccination was on January twenty-six,” I started, querying the nurse when the traffic had gone down after a three-hour event, “Am I really due for a booster?”

“Yes, it is already twenty-four weeks since that time,” the nurse responded confidently.

It was not for nothing that I was making the query.  I had been participating in the data entry process since morning, where we update the details of those vaccinated.  I had encountered two cases that called to question this 6-month duration, as far as the registration system was concerned.  One staff had added 6-months to the January 24 date and just told me on my face that he would be waiting for his booster shot after July 24.  Another January-case staff had stubbornly got the booster shot and was stopped on his track when the system refused to register the vaccination, giving a ‘not yet due date’ error.

So, finally, I sat there just before the 12.30pm break and endured the most painless injection this year.  Even the January one had some cold feeling on the arm, but this one, nada.  I wondered why some adults had to be held down to receive this baby needle on the arm.  There were even two loud shouts of pain within the day.  

Anyway, people are different and there is no right (or wrong) way to react to a piece of one-inch-long stainless-steel needle when it burrows itself below the skin.  The update of the system, in my case, did not give any error and soon I could see a second entry on the vaccination certificate, indicating a ‘booster’ of Pfizer.  The certificate that started with a single entry of AstraZeneca just last year, had now grown into 4 entries.

At this rate, we shall soon be walking around with a booklet that shall be keeping track of the many vaccination shots that we are likely to be having due to this corona thing.  The very corona which forced me to fail to do my customary Wednesday run, despite the day having the first sunny weather in a week.  It has been as cold as ice.  The very same corona that causes that dreaded COVID19 disease which had continued to plague the globe with 563,311,932 cases and 6,377,278 deaths, with Kenyan numbers being 336,053 and 5,668 respectively*.  All these in just 2-years.

*source: worldometers website

Of course, we did not have very kind words for corona during the lunch break, with the team of fellow members of the logistics team that had helped out in the camp.  For the umpteenth time I was reminded that corona was a hoax.

“Which disease spares young ones and only attacks the adults?”

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, July 13, 2022

Running into a booster in the wrong right arm

Running into a booster in the wrong right arm

It is exactly one week since this happened.  I have tried to avoid telling the story so that I avoid having egg on my face, but the story is just too compelling to let go, so here goes…

Last week on such a Wednesday I knew that I would be getting a corona booster vaccination shot.  This had been made optional to the staff though it has been ‘highly recommended’ provided one had met the boosting conditions.  These conditions were few – basically the last full vaccination shot must have been 6-months prior.  My last one was in July, so I was qualified.  Being a vaccination day, there was no discrimination on whether one was getting a first, second or booster.  It is only the booster that had that stringent 6-month caveat.

Coincidentally, and for purposes of raking in the numbers, we also had a blood/serological camp, where anyone could volunteer to provide blood sample for purposes of testing their antibody response to corona.  Such tests would then confirm prior exposure to the virus and even details as to the effectiveness of the vaccine on the body, including whether the activeness of the vaccine (N-protein levels) was waning over time.

The first twist to this combined camp was that those already vaccinated on that day could not undergo the serology.  That meant that serology had to come first before the vaccination.  I saw a red light just there on how these two camps that were set at the same location would be managed.  Some were coming for one of the two camps, while other staff were coming for both.  The vaccination was a morning only affair, while the blood thing was full day.  The serology involves being taken through a ten-minute questionnaire session, while the vaccination was just a walk-in-walk-out setting.  This combined camp was going to challenge the very core of logistics, patience and perseverance.

I had to do careful calculations to ensure that I attended both.  I needed the blood works since I had travelled to Western Kenya in December and my exposure level to the population in the travels and while there was a bit higher than I would usually encounter.  I could have been exposed to the virus in that sojourn, though I had not felt the effects at all at any point in time.  The closest that I got to feeling ‘virused’ was when I got a chocking cough for about five minutes around January 10, a week after I had come back to the city.  This episode was quickly forgotten and there has never been any other feeling to make be believe I have or have had corona.  But you never know, the double dose of Asta-Zeneca has maybe been my saving grace!  I needed the bloodwork, I told you! The results of previous such works had confirmed no exposure since I took the first such test in July.

I was also a volunteer at the vaccination camp even as I sought this serology thing.  That meant that I had to first deal with the bloodwork then be free to assist in pre-registration of those coming for the vaccinations, then update their records thereafter.  I knew that this day would be different and even easier to manage.  Afterall, I was confident that the online pre-registration of those being vaccinated would make the process seamless.  However, that is not what happened…..

I stayed for over 30-minutes at the serology tent, where they were asking me for the fifth time in monthly intervals the selfsame questions that they had asked before.  Why can’t they develop an online form where I can answer these questions for myself?  Do they trust the interviewer more than the interviewee?

“Have you travelled out of Nairobi for the last one month?”

“Yes”

“Where to?”

I answered

“For how long?”

I answered.

“How many people on average did you interact with?”

For crying out loud!  When will private life become private?

Anyway, l eventually got through and donated my blood for science.  It was just about nine-thirty.  The queue to the serology tent was already long.  The three tents housing those coming for vaccination were also full.  I also had to get myself in the vaccination booth first, if I was to eventually take a seat and do the vaccinee registrations that was soon going to hit us, judging by the number of those seated and waiting.

I got into the vaccination booth and found the nurse and the data person taking tea.  They were gearing up to start.  We are used to having two nurses during such events.  Today there was only one.  I know that the vaccination throughput is usually fast when the process starts, but having only one nurse for this already big population was an overkill.

“I want to the first person getting the shot so that I can move on with registration work,” I told the lady and gent at the tea table.  Those were faces that I had met in the past vaccination camps.  We had some level of familiarity.

“Let me finish the tea, then we can start,” the lady responded, “I just have to mix the vaccines first.”

New info!  The mixing.  Or whatever that meant.  In another five minutes the mix was done, after I had indicated that I was a double AZ vaccinee, to which I she told me that Pfizer Biontech was the boost that I was to get as recommended by the GOK MOH.

I sat next to the vaccination kits on the table spaced at the middle of the booth.  I could see the tea table at the extreme end of the tent.  On my left was the exit position of this square booth.  I had already removed my coat as I knew the procedure as it has become.  I unrolled the sleeve and looked aside as I momentarily felt a prick on the upper arm, then a pressing of a cotton swab on the same place.  The swab was immediately removed and thrown into a medical bin, together with the ‘sharps’ of the syringe and associated items.

“Done, we are now ready to start, you may call them in,” she gestured me out.

I put back my coat and got my laptop from the side table in that booth and walked out.  I left the queue management to another volunteer as I quickly went to one of the four big tents to setup my computer station.  I knew that very soon we would be having an influx of those already vaccinated and in need of an update on the computer system.

I logged into the system and was ready to get the ball rolling.  Obeying the principles of separation of duties, I asked one of my three colleagues to update my vaccination record on her system, promising to return the favour when her time came.

“Your ID number?”

I told her on the next desk

“The vaccination taken?”

“Pfizer”

“Let me see, there are three listed, which one was it?”

I remember being careful to confirm the vaccine batch number when I finished my shot.  The batch would usually be the same for the whole camp setup of the day.

“The middle one on the list, the one starting with N”

“Oh, I see,” she responded, “How about body temperature?”

I remembered that figure from the blood tent, where you also get your vitals taken.

“Done!”

I knew that very soon I would be the one asking people these questions, and it did not take long, since I was soon registering the first, and second and third… and tenth, and eleventh… and thirtieth, and thirty-first… and sixtieth vaccinee on the system.  They were just so many coming for post-registration.  The pre-registration done that we had already filled in two days prior having turned out to be a non-starter hoax!  What a waste of our computing resources and time!  It remained a busy day until at some point I was updating the CEO himself on the system having taking his booster.

We took a lunch break and wrapped up with the last ten or so after the lunch break, upon which time the nurses, who were now two, and the data person from the MOH closed camp and left.  The serology camp continued in the afternoon though our data entry team had already left the ghost tents in the middle of the field.  We had taken one step towards slaying corona, despite the worldwide numbers* being 384M and 5.7M deaths, with Kenyan numbers being 321,671 and 5,593 respectively.

*source: worldometers

I woke up the next day with a pain on my right top arm, just near the shoulder.  I could feel the unmistakable sensation of a needle prick on that right arm.

“Oh emm geee!,” I woke up shouting to myself.  I had been vaccinated on the wrong hand!

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Wednesday, Feb. 2, 2022

A birthday run that never was

A birthday run that never was

If there is a time that I thought I had COVID, and specifically Omicron variant, then that time was last week Friday.  COVID due to the symptoms and that particular variant due to the fast progression of the symptoms.  I had started feeling the signs of a common cold on the Thursday but had not taken any second thought of it.  However, on Friday the symptoms had multiplied ten times in less than a 24-hour cycle.  My throat was sore, and my body was weak.  However, I was not having a running nose nor a fever – just the urge to clear the throat and feeling tired for no reason.

Had it not been for the evening meeting that I had no power to cancel, I would surely have taken an early break and taken a bedrest.  I nonetheless persevered through the evening meeting that was to run from six to seven on that Friday and was glad when it eventually came to an end.  I had struggled to stay online and pretended to concentrate, but my body was telling me otherwise.  I needed a rest.

I was still contemplating on how to drag myself home when the meeting ends when there was a knock on the office door.  I suspected that it must be the sentry checking on who was still in office to alert them to lock-up the block as they leave.  I was however getting irritated.  I think that people get unnecessarily irritated when they need a rest.  I had previously told the guard that he did not need to keep reminding me to lock up.  I would do that automatically if I was the last person leaving.  I therefore did not know why he was still insisting on reminding me.

“Come in,” I said and continued conversing with the computer screen, counting the last fifteen-minutes of the evening meeting.  I could not wait to get it done with.

The door remained closed.

Another knock.

“Come right in!,” I raised my voice.  I was not going to answer that door in case nothing happens after this.

The door creaked open.  I was still concentrating on the screen.  I expected the guy.

“Happy birthday!,” I voice shouted from the now opened door.

“Happy what?,” I reacted, slowly turning my gaze from screen to door.

“Daktari, what did you say?,” I heard a participant on the Google Meet event ask.  I had already cautioned that participant that I was not yet a Daktari but he refused to live in the now.  He lived in the ‘by faith’.  I had told him that the ‘Doc’ thing would be happening next year, but I was manifesting it now.

I had to mute the online meeting first, to absorb what was going on.  Into the room matched in the young runner, Atieno, with a big white box at hand.  She proceeded to lay it on the desktop.  That box did not need any imagination to figure out the content.  She laid a Club soda besides it, the two-litre version.

“Have a seat while I get this meeting done with,” I motioned.

The meeting was done by seven.  I was back to the reality of the situation.  It was December 17.  

“You know it is your birthday, right?,” the architect in training said once I had closed the online meeting.

“Oh, how can I forget,” I lied.

I did not know that adults still had birthdays.  I have associated birthdays with the young ones and any other person.  I was still wondering how this birthday event even came about.  Unfortunately, my body was still weak and my throat could not partake of that soda, nor did I have an appetite for food, leave alone cake.  This birthday would have to be postponed.  I just needed a rest.

I tossed and turned and tossed and turned on that night.  I had a fever.  Covering up with three blankets did not even work.  I still shivered and felt cold.  I feared that I had been infected with the corona virus, though when I woke up to reality of the Saturday morning, I was a bit better.  The chills had gone, and the sore throat had gone down.  My remedy had just been hot water laced with lemon, masala and honey.  It seemed to have worked.

But I still had some last minute COVID jitters to contend with….

“I am not reporting for duty.  I have a bad cold.  I suspect I have COVID.  I am going for a test today.”

That short text beeped on my phone at around eleven on Saturday.  A colleague who was to be on duty on this Saturday was cancelling.  We had discussed so many projects the previous day in the small office.  If she was suspecting that she was having the corona virus, then…..

Anyway, I kept getting better, masala and honey at hand, and was surely back to normal by Sunday.  My method of recovery has always been to identify the onset of the flu before it hits, and then take it down with some honey.  This modus operandi enabled me to have less than two-days of downtime whenever the flu hits.  That works for me but maybe not for others, since that young runner would report a flu of her own two days after that birthday surprise and be forced to seek medication in her case, incurring a bill of over 10k.

So, was it COVID?  The Omicron variant of COVID?  The very COVID that has now infected 276,724,130 people with 5,388,439 deaths globally*.  Kenyan numbers are 267,571 and 5,354 respectively.  Could it be the one?  Did that double-jab of Astra-Zeneca vaccine contribute to my low downtime or I was just having a normal flu?

*source: worldometers

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Dec. 22, 2021

Of corona vaccines and a public kiss

Of corona vaccines and a public kiss

I had almost forgotten about this second shot Astra Zeneca vaccine, codename AZD1222 or locally called as Covishield.  The initial shot in the left arm on April 6 was a big deal.  A new vaccine had been realized in record time, hardly one year after the pandemic had hit humanity.  It was that same record time that had led to lots of vaccine hesitancy and doubts on its efficacy.  The second dose did not even seem possible after the scheduled eight-weeks interval period came and passed.  There was even talk that our bodies would ‘reset’ to not-vaccinated status if we missed the second shot after the eight weeks.  We must have therefore reset to ‘not-vaccinated’ as we prepared for the second shot that was coming forth on the twelfth week after the first one.

The announcement for the shot was sent late night as usual.  The reason why they give little or no notice when these shots are scheduled remains unknown to me.  Maybe be the body needs a ‘surprise’ for the vaccine to be effective?  I was on late night work on this Sunday night, when that email notification popped up.  It was just past one in the morning.  It indicated that staff should report for their second dose vaccination on Tuesday and Wednesday. 

I was out for my long run on Monday, just a day to the shots.  I have never been this tired during a run.  My lethargy was evident hardly five minutes into the run.  My paining stomach did not make things any better.  I knew that it was not my run day.  Maybe the first dose vaccine had already cleared from my system and the body was complaining that it was due for the booster shot.  What it was, I do not know – but I was so tired during this run that my own assessment was that I would probably do an average of six-minutes per kilometre.  That would be twenty-percent slower.  I did not care about the time.  I had decided that I would take the run, and I was taking the run.

Using the same usually run route had its advantages.  My legs knew how and where to lead me without much persuasion.  I somehow made it to Ndumbo and was soon on the downhill on Kapenguria road towards Wangari Maathai institute.  Even my autopilot mode managed to stumble on the five new speed bumps that had been added to the half kilometre road section all the way to the institute.  That was new.  They were not there during my last run on Friday, just three days ago.

I kept running and kept going.  I was emerging from the university farm at the tank, to join Kanyariri road after about an hour of run.  I kept struggling with the run, but I was now past the half way mark and I just needed endurance to keep me going.  I was on the road for hardly another five minutes after this turnoff when I approached a white vehicle parked on the right edge of the road, on the same edge that I was running on.  Part of the vehicle’s right side was almost touching the edge of the road, since the roadside did not have so much space anyway.  Though the road is not usually busy with vehicular or human traffic, it still did not look right for a vehicle to be abandoned there.

I was about ten metres to the vehicle when I observed clearly through the windscreen some silhouette of two people.  It took me five steps to clearly see a man and a woman seated on the front seats, guy on the driver’s seat, while the lady sat on the front passenger’s seat next to him.  I was just passing them in another five steps when I observed them with tightly locked lips, as they sat and embraced on the small front section of the car.  I was tempted to turn back and reconfirm, since I had made my observations a bit too abruptly to even register what was really going on.  I recall having passed by some three or so school going children, of the primary school level, whom I had overtaken about twenty metres before that car.  Those three boys would soon encounter that vehicle with its movie through that clear windscreen in a few moments.

I kept going and resisted to turn back.  The school boys can start learning their lessons in life as they pass by that car.  A movie or two would not hurt.  I was already just struggling to keep on the run with all the tiredness and I did not have any more physical or mental energy to think about this issue at the moment.  However, I lied.  That scene of those two on the front seat kissing around left me analyzing the situation with many what-ifs and whys.  Why would two grown-ups want to display their affection in the light of day in ‘the public of the road’?  What happened to good old public decency and respect to one’s self, and the public?

Let me disclaim that I have nothing against anybody doing anything.  Kiss until your mouth gets sore if you want.  Its your mouth!  (not mine!).  For that matter, do it where you want to do it – it is your choice (not mine).  My only gripe is turning ’public’ roads into ‘private’ rooms.  There is an acceptable level of decency expected in public spaces.  I did not make the rules.  The citizens of this country made the rules.  I may not like the rules but rules are rules.  Let public affairs be kept to the public and so should private.  But do not just take my word for it.  A UK government minister had to resign just yesterday for having kissed a woman in private, so how serious can such in public be?

I kept imagining how that scene came to be.  Could the gal have been the wife of the guy?  But why would they decide to romance beside the road in that case?  Could it had been a ‘plan’?  Isn’t ‘mpango’ a ‘plan’ in the English language?  Even if it was a ‘plan’, if you can afford a car, then you can surely afford better privacy.  I must have been running thoughts on my mind for long, since I do not even remember how I did the U-turn on the Gitaru-Wangige road, as I found myself back to that very car hardly thirty minutes later on my way back.  I passed by it and had a chance to glance back momentarily to confirm if I had even seen right the first time.  This time, the two were decently seated on their respective seats looking straight ahead through the windscreen with straight faces.  If you had not been around there before this time, then you could not even have even known that there had been no innocence on that front seat.

I was energized to pass by that vehicle and run away towards ‘the tank’, and straight on towards Ndumbo.  That last hill towards Ndumbo shopping centre was something that I was waiting for, with all the dread it deserves.  It is a one-kilometre section of pure leg pain, made worse by the way I was feeling on this Monday.  I somehow managed to clear it and would soon just join Waiyaki way, then cross the road at Kabete Poly and be back to my starting point, which would be my finishing point.  I was even surprised that I had missed that six-minutes average that I had feared.  I had in fact done this run in an average of 5min 3sec.

I was glad that the run was finally done with, and there would be no more runs until after the second shot vaccination.  It was hardly twelve hours later that I would get that shot.  That second shot was even more painless than the first.  The registration on the government system after the vaccination was a simple one question affair, unlike the initial interview done during vaccination 1.  It is just about twelve-hours since that second shot in the arm and I am still feeling no effects, if there should be any.  I cannot evaluate the effect of ‘full vaccination’ on my runs until the next run on Friday.  The global corona infections* may be 182,403,071 with 3,949,423 deaths, but this pandemic shall soon be defeated if we continue to have and accept such vaccination initiatives.  Our Kenya numbers may be 183.603 and 3,621 respectively, but we as a country are also doing something about it, despite the few doses that have come our way.

*source: worldometers website

The last two days have taught me two lessons – be blind to the going ons if you are a marathoner running on the public roads, and let us all respect our public spaces.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, June 29, 2021

Better be ready – of MA+RA+TH+ON preparation and gadgets that failed

Better be ready – of MA+RA+TH+ON preparation and gadgets that failed

There was nothing to celebrate during yesterday, Tuesday’s run, with corona infections having hit a new high of 164,994,625 and 3,421,329 deaths globally, and Kenyan numbers being 166,006 and 3,021 respectively.  I did not even feel like having this evening run in the first place.  What with the world and the country all gloomy with this COVID19 monster that was not being tamed anything soon?.  

Positive developments were nonetheless taking place.  Vaccines were starting to trickle through the world, though even our own second shot was now in doubt.  This was caused by the withholding of vaccine exports by India, the main manufacturer of vaccines that go to WHO’s COVAX (COVID19 Vaccines Global Access) scheme.  

India was having a surge in infections at their local level and were now prioritizing supplies to themselves first.  That second shot of the Covishield vaccine from Astra Zeneca was now being delayed from 8-weeks to 12-weeks since the first shot.  The certainty of even getting it in 12-weeks’ time was also in doubt.  With all these uncertainties, it was not a Tuesday that you would want to get out there and do your run…. but evening came and it was run time.

I was still feeling the pains of the last run of Sunday, hardly two days before, even as I setup to change into the run gear.  Nonetheless, a major international marathon relay in the name of MA+RA+TH+ON, was coming up.  This is a four-member team relay where each person contributes 10.5km to the team, to ultimately tally the total of 42km marathon distance.  I was already in a team and the event was beckoning.  The dates had already been cast in stone, being the weekend of May 22-23.  It was now a matter of making it count.

I would be using this Tuesday run as the last run before the weekend relay, while I also wanted to take advantage of the run to formulate a 10.5km route for the relay.  The challenge with our run routes from Uthiru is that none of them provides a flat terrain.  You are likely to encounter a hilly terrain anytime you run for over 1km in any direction from Uthiru.  Some hills are however worse, and you would want to avoid them when mapping an international competitive run on a 10.5km distance.  I was doing my mental calcs, but each span of 10.5km still ended up with over 3km of uphill somewhere along the route.

I had to accept the reality that I would have to run through some hills, and hence be forced into a reduced pace with would reduce my average speed, the very metric that really counted for the event.  I still wanted to scout the best of the existing bad options of run routes.  I then needed to take the five-day break after knowing my route, to then take a rest to enable me be at my peak strength come the weekend.  This Tuesday run was therefore a compulsory run, both to know a final route for the weekend and also to do a final run before the weekend.

I started the run at four, and carried with me one gadget with two timing apps – the Runkeeper that had now become the default since the collapse of Endomondo, and a second Strava app, being the official app for use during the weekend relay event.  I wanted to test Strava app in advance and confirm that it worked well and would be up to the task come the weekend.  You can imagine the frustration of trying an app that fails during an international event, where a team of another three rely on your contribution to relay and shall make the marathon successful.  It can be a disaster.

My plan was to start off on Runkeeper and have it time and map the whole run, from start to finish.  It always worked well and has hardly let me down (apart from the occasional incorrect starting point, which can easily be fixed by a simple editing of the saved map).  Then, I would start the Strava at some point on the route, for timing through the 10.5km section, then stop it after that section was recorded.  While Runkeeper is a faithful servant, Strava on the other hand is unforgiving in terms of mapping.  Unless you have the professional subscription version, you are stuck with a wrong map that cannot be edited.

I did not expect much in terms of differences on this run compared to my Sunday run.  I was still tired but my day’s run was mainly concerned about the 10.5km section that I had mapped in my mind.  Unfortunately, that 10.5km section meant that I had to still do the long run, and carve out a section of that long run.  I had to carefully figure out a section that was not as bad of the rest of the route, in terms of few hilly terrains.

I eventually started the Strava at Ndumbo, after having ran from Uthiru, crossing Waiyaki way and then running the length of the tarmac to Ndumbo market.  Instead of going down Kapenguria road as I would usually do, I decided to turn left onto Kanyariri road and kind of do a reverse of the usual run.  I usually avoid this reverse loop due to the Wangari Maathai hill that a runner has to face on their way back, when they are tired, as they climb it towards Ndumbo.  I would have to just face my avoidance on this Tuesday.

I started my Strava as I went down the hill after Ndumbo market.  I already knew that this downhill would soon come to an end, and I would then face the uphill section that first gets you to the ‘the tank’, then the mild uphill that goes as far as Kanyariri road shall take me.  Being psychologically prepared helped me out as I faced the hills.  The weather was a bit sunny, but not hot.  The road was fairly deserted, with the occasional one vehicle every kilometre or so.

I kept running and the pace felt comfortable enough.  Nothing out of the ordinary, just another evening run.  My plan was to try and avoid the sudden hill near ACK Kanyariri church as you head to the market.  Instead, I planned to turn right, and use this alternative road that eventually gets to Wangige road.  The last time I used this road must have been during the Divas International Marathon of early 2019.  I could hardly remember its ‘hilliness’, but I thought that it was a bit easier that the usual straight Kanyariri road to the Gitaru market.

My Strava was still on, so was Runkeeper, though I usually do not check on the gadgets when I run.  I use the gadgets to time my run.  I do not run to ‘please’ the gadgets.  I know of a colleague who worships his gadgets and control his every run.  He can even come to a stop if the gadgets say so.  Not me.  I already knew that they were working on the background of the phone that I carried with me, and I did not bother look at them at all.  The time to look at them would come, especially for the Strava timer that was on a mission for a specific distance.

My plan was to turn to the right at that junction, then go for about 5minutes, to any turning point, then start the run back.  And that is what I did.  I turned right and started running on that road.  It was also fairly deserted.  I was not looking at the gadgets, and my five-minute run was to be based on instinct.  I kept running, waiting for instinct to raise the alarm on the five minutes point.  I got to some shopping centre and felt shame-on-myself to just doing a U-turn in the crowds, and so I kept going and passed the crowd.  I just kept going waiting for an opportune time to do the U, but it never came.

Behold!  It came as a surprise when I started making out the new Wangige road flying over just ahead, about two-hundred metres from where I was!  This was not the plan.  I had not intended to hit this point.  I should have turned back before reaching this point.  It was not too late!  I just had to be ‘polite’ to go all the way to near the highway and do a U-turn at that point.  Why I had failed to get my initially intended U-turn point earlier on the run remains a mystery.  Sometimes instinct can go to sleep, just believe me.

This alternative right-turn road turned out not to be as mild as I thought.  It was still hilly, though the hilly sections were shorter.  The U-turn at the highway was quite a relief, since I now knew that I was on my way back home.  My timers were assumedly still working, and I did not make a check at them anyway.  I started running back on the hills and downhills until I rejoined Kanyariri road at the new centre at the crossroad, where we now have nyama choma fumes that knocks out even the most resilient of runners.  I quickly passed by the smoky roadside and started my way down Kanyariri road.

The relative downhill was smooth and I enjoyed this part of the run.  I would eventually get to ‘the tank’, where I had to turn left and join the route through the university farm.  It was also relatively downwards all the way.  My mental route calculation had convinced me that I would hit the 10.5km around the Kabete Children’s home on Kapenguria road once I turn right from Lower Kabete road.  I would by then be through with the uni farm and passed Mary Leakey school to emerge at Lower Kabete road.  However, with that extra distance that I had gone after missing my initially intended U-turn, I believed that the 10.5km mark should have been somewhere on the Lower Kabete road section, give or take.

I was therefore checking my Strava as I joined Lower Kabete road, expecting to see something like ten-point-something kilometres, when I saw an 11.5km.

“No way!,” I said loudly, reducing my pace in the process, as the evening business traffic saw lots of vehicles zoom on both directions of Lower Kabete road.  

It would surely be too soon to hit such a distance, in my view, but maybe my body clock was already improperly tuned on this day anyway!  I was however still convinced that Strava must have failed me for some reason.  I was nonetheless not waiting to find out what was going on.  I still had a run to finish, and that finish was still over 7km away.

I kept running and finally stopped the Strava timer at the river, past Kabete Children’s home.  That was the place I thought the 10.5km should have ended, based on initial calculations, disregarding that extra run past the initially intended U-turn.  I momentarily saw a distance of about 12.5km with an average pace of 4min 45sec per km.  I put Strava on stop mode and continued the uphill run on Kanyariri road, to eventually pass Wangari Maathai institute and then get back to Ndumbo.

From there I could see the end in sight, just on the other side of Waiyaki way.  And for sure the run would come to an end soon.  I was relatively well energized even after the run.  The Runkeeper kept a record of 24.5km, but the average pace is what I was not expecting – 4.59min per km.  That was the first under five that I was recording on this or any other route in over three months.  This run that I had done with a laissez-faire attitude is the one that actually turned out to be a record-breaking run.  I now really wished that the MA+RA+TH+ON was happening on this Tuesday!

I learnt the lesson that in running there was probably no ideal day.  You shall break records on the least expected of days.  Preparation remains key, but you never know for sure when you shall shatter your own ceiling.  Keep running with an open mind, knowing that anything was possible.  Talking of anything being possible, that Strava app would later in the day give me the dreaded ‘app has stopped working’ error with the only option being to close the app.  That closure of the app took with it my MA+RA+TH+ON mock time and distance.  I would never know for sure what Strava had in store for me.  Now I was happy that the MA+RA+TH+ON was not happening on this Tuesday!

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, May 19, 2021

One week with covid… vaccine

One week with covid… vaccine

It was Tuesday last week that I was compelled to take the Oxford University’s Astra Zeneca production of corona virus vaccine.  This vaccine is meant to prevent infection or lessen the effects of infections if it occurs.  This Tuesday jab was however just the start of the journey.  Every person who gets a first jab needs a second one, four to eight weeks later, for the dose of this AZ vaccine to be complete.  

Nonetheless this is probably the norm.  Of the WHO approved vaccines, all but one are two jab administered – be it AZ, Pfizer-Biontech or Moderna.  Only Johnson & Johnson’s Jenssen vaccine is a one shot vaccine… and it has just suffered temporary stoppage where it is chiefly administered in the US, after cases of blood clots were reported amongst a few… one in a million I believe.  We already knew about blood clot issues with AZ vaccine even as we accepted to have it last week.  It is a risk worth taking.  As the scientists say, the benefits far outweigh the risks. 

I had read on our marathoners’ discussion page on WhatsApp that one ‘goes down’ after taking the vaccine.  That runner even confessed that he could hardly run after being vaccinated with the AZ jab, about two weeks prior.  He said that he was ‘forced’ to take a one-week break.  I was therefore expecting something to ‘go down’ after that Tuesday experience.  The jab experience was painless and uneventful (read the full story here).  I nonetheless still decided to deliberately monitor the effects of the vaccine in my system, by virtue of taking notes on a daily basis as to how things shall ‘go down’.  And this is it….

With Tuesday as Day 1, the vaccination day, I was on the lookout for anything unusual on Day 2, a Wednesday, since I felt nothing at all on that Tuesday.  I did not do any runs on this Wednesday, since I do my runs only once a week, on Mondays.  I felt nothing different on this Day 2.  I would later in the day have one episode of running nose, where I had the urge to clear my nose at least once or twice, but that was it.  This was an episode from nowhere, but it was a brief five-minute thing in the evening and it was gone forever thereafter.  Maybe it was nothing to do with the vaccine.

My Day 3 was another normal day.  I woke up in the morning and did my daily chores as expected.  There was nothing worthy of mentioning as far as change of health was concerned.  I would later in the evening had a brief dry cough for about five minutes.  The type where the throat just irritates leading to a cough.  This was also brief and was soon gone.  I continued and ended my day without any more feeling of any body effects.

And that was probably it, since my Day 4 was quite normal.  I did my usual daily activities and felt nothing out of the usual.  Day 5 was a Saturday and it did not start with my usual self.  I woke up unusually tired, for no reason that I could think of, since I had not done any strenuous activity or even did a run the previous day.  My walk from home to the workplace, a distance of about 3km using a longer route, was a bit laboured.  However, I was back to my normal self soon after that lethargic walk.  I was back to full energy and the tiredness was gone never to be felt again on that day.

Day 6 was a Sunday and it turned out to be the most normal Sunday.  I was my usual self.  I did walk around and did not feel anything abnormal.  The real test would however be on Day 7, when I would have to face the usual weekly run.  I felt good through the day and was quite ready for the evening run even as I started off the run at 4pm.  The run on the usual Uthiru-Gitaru route was just another one of those routine runs.  There was nothing different.  

Running tends to be tideous, and so I was tired as usual, as I pounded the tarmac.  I cannot say that I felt any different than last run.  If anything, the tiredness that I felt during the last run was worse that I felt on this Monday.  That would mean that this Monday’s run was just usual, with the usual tiredness.  I finished the 27k in 2hr 25min.  That 5min 21sec average time for kilometre, is the very same average that I did during the last run.  That would mean that my run pace had not deteriorated after that jab.  I was surely still the same old me.

All could have ended well on that Day 7, until my stomach become the running type in the early evening after dinner.  I did not know whether to attribute this to the refrigerated food or to any other cause.  Apart from that, I was still normal with the residual tiredness of the run.  Nonetheless, I was back to 100% normal as I woke up on Day 8, today Tuesday.  I have been well without any pains or discomfort since morning.  

Even as the total corona infections* globally now hit a high of 137,834,958 with 2,965,968 deaths and 110,837,950 recoveries, with Kenyan numbers being 147,147; 2,394 and 99,580 respectively.  Even as the debate on whether to take the vaccine or not take the vaccine continues.  My own experience tells me that the AZ vaccine has no adverse effect at all on the human body after vaccine, at least the first jab.  It is a shot on the arm like any other… and then you forget that it ever happened.  Maybe the shot number two of June 1 will have its own story?

*source: worldometers

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, April 13, 2021

When you run into a vaccine, do not wait

When you run into a vaccine, do not wait

The notification came in late.  As late as night time during the Easter Monday holiday.  Who even checks official email during the holiday?  And at night for that matter!?

Anyway, that is when the information that there would be a free vaccination camp was disseminated.  It would be held on the very next day, if anything, in just a few hours’ time.  It was a voluntary jab, but it was available… for free.  It was a moment of reflection and decision.  

The official vaccine in Kenya is the Astra-Zeneca release.  The same AZ that had gotten bad publicity in Europe and South Africa, leading to the stoppage of its administration for some time before resumption in Europe, with SA not reusing it thereafter.  The claim against AZ was that there were cases of blood clot manifestation observed on those who had taken it.  The SA people had accused the jab of not being effective at all.

I had followed the story to the conclusion that there was no correlation between the particular jab and the clots.  The clot was just an observation that could be observed on any jab anyway.  The SA twist was due to change of virus variant.  However, that episode had already given AZ a bad nametag.  Even the motherland that had received the first batch of one-million doses had not survived the vaccine hesitancy.  

Many weeks later, since the arrival of the vaccines in early March, and the government was still convincing the seemingly reluctant front-line workers to be vaccinated.  The elderly were also getting reluctant.  A colleague even confessed to me that her elderly mum had said a big ‘No’ when presented with the opportunity for the vaccine.  Her rejection was because she did not ‘trust’ the vaccine, a vaccine, any vaccine.

I had only a few hours to decide whether I shall partake of this jab or not.  The vaccine was surely AZ, as the only free jab authorized for public use in Kenya.  It was a two-shot regime, meaning that once you get into the first jab, then you are stuck in the mix, and must be available for the next jab some four to eight weeks later.  

I had woken up on this decision day Tuesday with a decision to make.  Should I, or should I not?  I kept juggling the dichotomy in my mind for the first hours of the morning.  I would later observe the camp already setup and a few people already on queue.  An ambulance parked next to the tents and the vaccination exercise was surely a real thing.

My decision was made around ten, when I saw myself walk to the vaccination tent.  The decision was partly made due to a ‘friendly reminder’ that the boss had given to his staff.  Telling them that when a vaccine comes your way – whichever the name – so long as it is an approved WHO COVID19 vaccine, then do not even think about it.  Take it! (Ask later).  

I have known the boss with those ‘friendly’ ones.  They usually mean compulsion.  When there is no compulsion then the reminder is usually just a ‘reminder’.  So, when he gave that ‘friendly’ one just last week, I knew that there was no thinking much about this.  This was the direction and I knew that very soon even employment terms of service would have something to do with vaccine-compliance.  I know how these things work.  When cloudy, prepare for rain.

I would soon be registering my name and telephone number on an attendance sheet.  Then I would be soon seated with a social-distanced group of about fifty.  We just sat and waited, not knowing what to expect.  Just ahead was a fully covered tent, with an entrance fleece, and there must have been an exit on the other end, since those who went in did not come out.  

On this front entrance stood a staff who would call two names at a time into the tent.  What was going on there?  I imagined that going through the tent would lead to another ‘proper’ registration process, followed by the vaccine administration somewhere ahead.  I kept waiting.  We kept waiting.  It took about an hour before my name was called to that tent.  I had my temperature taken with a handheld thermo-gun as I got into that tent.

“Keep that temperature, it shall be required later on,” the staffer who had taken the temperature reminded me, even as I took one of the two seats in that tent.  Straight ahead were two medics in white, with two other people seated next to them.  These two people were now just getting up to leave.

I was taken aback, since I was immediately called to that opposite side of this open internal space and asked to take one of those now vacant seats.  The lady in white then proceeded to state that she was about to administer the vaccine and wanted me to roll over my left sleeve.  It was so soon!  So unexpected!  It was it!  These two medics were doing the vaccinations right here and right now on this very tent!  I was not yet ready!  I thought that I would still be getting through the hula-hoops before I ‘finally’ get to the vaccination thing.  

I unrolled my left sleeve as the lady went ahead to prepare whatever she was preparing.  I was not even looking at her actions when I felt nothing on my arm, apart from the piece of cotton that she pressed on the upper outer arm for some five seconds, before throwing it away onto a bin.  I was still seated, when she reminded, “I am done, you can pass through and register your details at the next tent”

That was the most unfelt prick ever!  I would have sworn that she did not even inject the arm, had it not been for the used syringe and needle that I observed her dispose on a bin together with that cotton bud.  I had even felt the arm kind of ‘fill-up’ during the yellow fever jab many years ago, being the last time I had an adulthood injection, but this one, nada!  Having survived the unfelt injection that had come and gone so soon, I was full of relief and ready to join in the chatter that was ongoing on the other side of the vaccination booth.  That ‘other side’ meant for the registrations was full of life.  People must have really ‘enjoyed’ their shots, judging by their moods and high spirits.  Everyone was as jovial as never before.

We would soon face another queue of about fifty as we waited for the people operating the four or so computers on the tables centrally located on the big tent to register us.  The movement along the queue was slow!  But who cares!  The vaccination thing that was taking the world by storm was now already done.  The very AZ vaccine that was under bad publicity and hesitancy was now in my system, our systems.

I was finally seated at the registration desk some thirty minutes or so later.  The details being recorded on the computer system were personal details and those of next of kin, followed by being informed to be ready for the next shot ‘on June 1’.

“Hey, WB, do not leave,” someone drew my attention, just as I was getting up from the registration desk about to exit and leave the camp.

I looked around and saw a familiar face, “We want you to help in the registration.  Sit there and get started,” she pointed to the slot just next to where I had been registered.

I took the seat and faced a registration screen full of blanks.  A staffer of the vaccination team gave me an orientation on how to navigate the screens.  From there on it was a breeze… and this strategy of having many people participate in the registration saved the day.  It was not long before we had cleared the once full tent.  

Having seen the registration system, my only barb to the government was their ‘love’ for data duplication!  We had to re-record everything that is already on the national ID cards!  Wasn’t Huduma number the solution to all these data duplication mess!  Imagine typing the same same info that is on the ID, instead of just querying the central Huduma system to population all these!  

Every re-keying in of data introduces wasted times and the new data is prone to errors, especially telephone numbers, email addresses, spellings of names and even ID numbers being recorded incorrectly.  This Huduma project seemed to have been another ‘ghost’, in the increasing items on the list, though it was a noble project with a good intention.  But do not just take my word for it.  You could have seen the time wasted when we had to confirm and reconfirm details that are already with the government central database anyway.

Whether there is vaccine hesitancy or not shall remain to be seen.  Maybe I was just at a vaccine ‘friendly’ camp, since the doses claimed to be four-hundred would soon be finished even before the expected four-o’clock closure… with many more people still queueing.  With global COVID19* infections standing at 132,800,387 with 2,878,681 deaths, with Kenyan numbers being 139,842 and 2,258 respectively, it is a no-brainer that ‘anything that helps’ is better than nothing.  And that ‘anything’ is the COVID19 vaccine, be it AZ, Johnsons and Johnsons, Pfizer-Biontech or Moderna.  

*source: worldometers website

Even Sputnik V, already available in some Kenyan private medical facilities ‘for emergency use’ should be taken wholehearted within a second thought.  Even our southern neighbour, TZ, under a new leader has now acknowledged that ‘uviko-kumi-na-tisa’ is a real thing and any tools in our arsenal to conquer corona is one more conquest for humanity.  The speech of the new leader even elicited praise from the citizens, as I saw on that news ticker at the bottom of TBC news… ‘wananchi waifagilia hotuba ya rais…’  This was a complete U-turn from the denial tendencies that had been the modus operandi of our southern neighbour for long.

Vaccines have and have always had debates, issues, pros, cons and theories of conspiracy.  I would join the boss in a ‘friendly’ persuasion for those who are still hesitant.  The vaccine may not prevent you from contacting the corona virus and getting COVID19.  However, you have almost a guarantee that you shall not suffer adverse effects that would usually call for hospitalization need the related complications that can include the need for induced oxygen intake and ventilator life support.  The vaccine shall enable you just probably experience mild COVID19 symptoms and survive at home, without much ado, should you be unfortunate to contract the corona virus.  The choice remains yours but… when you run into the vaccine, do not wait, go for it.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, April 6, 2021

Running to get service – My Huduma number story

Running to get service – My Huduma number story

When I queued at the local administrator’s office in Uthiru on that bright April morning, the twenty-sixth to be exact, I was just fulfilling a government directive.  At that time, in 2019, all citizens had been directed to apply for their huduma numbers by June or face the consequence of not accessing government services.  To sweeten the threat, we had been warned that those without the ‘number’ would wish that they had it when the numbers are eventually issued later that year.  I did not want to ‘wish’ and with nothing to lose anyway, I found myself going through the motions of registration.

The registration process was simple enough – fill in a 2-page form with details of all your existing documents, including national ID, NSSF, NHIF, passport, residence, employment, family and then present the form to the attendant for data capture.  After that, the various documents would be scanned, your picture taken, then an acknowledge slip would be issued.  In my case the tablet computer in use even stopped working midway through the process, forcing a reboot of the gadget, followed by a restart of the lengthy process of data capture.  There was no partial and progressive saving of information.  It was an all-or-nothing operation.  However, I finally left the chief’s compound with the thin long strip titled ‘Acknowledgement Slip’.

Then, 2019 came, matured and went.  Life was back to normal and the huduma number thing was soon forgotten.  There was no mention of the cards that should have been issued at the end of year.  I even went on a sojourn to the north pole and back, while the status of huduma remained unknown.  If anything, the year was coming to an end and the only matter of concern was the new ailment being noted in China around December as the year was coming to an end.  By January of 2020, the new ailment that was affecting the respiratory system and starting to kill people was given the name Severe acute respiratory syndrome version 2 corona virus disease of 2019 or ‘SARS-2-COVID19’.

And once it was let loose, the Corona virus started to spread furiously around the world and continued to cause COVID19 in its wake.  It was in the February that the first case was reported in Kenya and the country immediately shut down schools and colleges, and sent learners home in the middle of their school session.  Employees were asked to consider working from home.  A never-before seen curfew was imposed from 6.00pm to next day 5.00am.  We lived in the fear of the unknown most of 2020.  Nairobi would soon be completely shut off from the rest of the counties, with travel to and from the city outlawed.  This was in an effort to contain the spread of the corona virus to just within its borders and prevent the virus from jumping out onto other counties.  By this time, Huduma was out, corona was in.

It was towards July that travel in and out of the city of Nairobi was lifted and people started moving about.  Nighttime curfews remained, though the timing had been moved to nine, and even later to ten, though schools remained shut.  Eateries and bars remained closed for many months, while work from home become the norm.  Some businesses closed forever due to the effects of reduced business hours, supply chain problems, reduced customers and lack of business altogether.  Such business included schools that remained shut since February and retail outlets, such as Tuskys, which would later blame reduced numbers as a cause for its woes.  There was no thinking about it…. Huduma was out, corona was in.

It was not until September that schools and colleges started opening up.  Wearing of face masks continued being a statutory requirement at all public places.  Even runners had to adorn such masks while running on public roads.  Handwashing, hand sanitization and social distancing become buzz words.  Mass events, including religious, political and sporting were postponed or cancelled altogether.  

Even the Standard Chartered Nairobi International marathon that had be held consistently for over 15 years in the month of October had to be cancelled.  Prior to this, the Mater Heart run of May, that was also an over 15-years event had been cancelled.  All major mass events in the international arena were cancelled, including the football leagues and even the Olympic games that had been scheduled for Japan in 2020.  Among the words in the vocabulary at this point in time… Huduma was out, corona was in.

The year 2020 would come to an end with, having started with zero COVID cases, according to official WHO records and ending with 84million worldwide infections.  The year 2020 that had started with zero COVID-19 deaths, would end with 1.8million deaths globally.  The year that started with zero cases in Kenya, would end with 96,614 infections and 1,681 deaths – that included several prominent public figures.  A new disease had just taken root and it was killing 2% of those it infects.  The new disease had forced the closure of several sectors of global economies, including sports, tourism and travel.  Huduma was by now forgotten, corona was in everybody’s way.

The year would also begin with good news in the vaccines front, with new vaccines, developed in record time of under one year, being released for public use to mitigate the corona virus.  Three frontline contenders in the name of Pfizer-BionTec, AstraZeneca and Moderna would have vaccines their vaccines available for distribution and use.  Other vaccines also came up in Russia and China for inoculation against COVID19.  

The year started with a promise of mass vaccinations, though it was a long-way-off promise especially for the continent of Africa.  Even our own country indicated that the vaccines would only be available for prioritized distribution to the critical workforce such as security forces, health workers and teachers, then the elderly and the sick.  This would be the target areas when it lays hands on 24-million vaccine doses anytime from February.  We started living the ‘new normal’, read, ‘living with corona’.  After all, even if the vaccines get home, some people still not it anyway.  Huduma was now completely off the records, while corona was setting the records.

The ‘forgotten’ came knocking when I got that SMS on January 10, 2021…

Dear me, your Huduma Card is ready.  Visit https [link details] to select your pick-up point.  For enquiry call 0800221111. STOP*456*9*5#

“This cannot be true!,” I shouted out loud when I saw this message at almost ten in the night.  

I would forget about it until the next day when I opened up the link details on a computer and for sure found a query form.  There were three questions, requiring one to pick the county from a dropdown list, followed by sub-county, then the collection point.  I ended up selecting KAWANGWARE as the collection point.  

There was no detail on which particular location in Kawangware, but it sounded logical enough as a pickup point.  I submitted the form and got a confirmation that I had successfully updated my pickup address as Kawangware and that my card would be ready for collection within the next 21-days.  The message promised that I would receive yet another SMS notification once the card was available.

I was to have the card on Jan. 31.  I started the waiting.  It was not to be, since I had not yet received any SMS notification by Jan. 31.  I started accepting that this was part of the same old ‘promises unkept’ that had become the huduma story.  

It was not until Feb. 10 that I finally got that SMS… 

Dear me, your Huduma Card S/No: [serial number] has been delivered to NAIROBI-KAWANGWARE Office. For enquiry, call 0800221111

The message did not have anything like ‘come pick it’, nope, it just that stated that the card had been delivered (do what you want).  It was not until yesterday, Friday, Feb. 12 that I decided to look for the Kawangware office and pick my card.  With no indication as to where the office was, I had no choice but to call the Oo-Eight-hundred number to ask for the directions to the collection point.  I was surprised that the number was in operation, as some very polite person on the other end of the line directed me to the District Commissioners office on Naivasha road.

“Remember to carry your original ID, and have the SMS message,” she concluded.

It took some asking around to get to the DC’s office, since it was not strictly on Naivasha road.  It was the Chief’s office that was on Naivasha road.  I had to take a diversion and walk about four hundred metres to the get to the DC’s place.  When there, the printed papers pasted on the walls and windows directed me straight to the collection point.  I only handed over my ID and within a few minutes the attendant was flipping through what looked like one-million cards, tied with rubber bands in bundles of probably one-hundred cards.  I have never seen such many cards!  No wonder there was that news item that Kenyans had ‘refused’ to collect their cards.

I would momentarily be studying the card.  The same that was almost two-years overdue.  The Huduma card is exactly same size as the national ID card – ATM card size.  It replicates the information as exactly as they are on the national ID card.  If anything, the card is even branded as ‘National Identity Card’.  The only difference is that it has a chip, it has not signature… and the photo is coloured.  Make no mistake about this, the Huduma card shall replace the national ID – but do not take my word for it – the government had indicated that intention from day 1.  It is just becoming true before our very eyes.

But it did not take long before I started getting SMSs from entities that should not be having my contact information in the first place…

From Nrbservices… Do you own land in Nairobi? Pay your land rates immediately

I swear that I have never shared my details with Nrb.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Feb. 13, 2021.

Be ready to take the feel-good train… when it comes

Be ready to take the feel-good train… when it comes

I could just feel it.  This was the day that a record would be broken.  I was on top of a ‘feel good’ state, which just possessed me on this day.  My body was just perfect as I started the run.  The day would have been better had there been no corona that was causing this COVID19 thing.  Since morning I had been bombarded with the COVID numbers - 106,821,217 worldwide infections* with 2,330,285 deaths and 78,567,302 recoveries.  This represented a mortality rate of 2.18%.  At position 81, ranked by total infections, Kenya's numbers were 101,944 with 1,786 deaths and 84,473 recoveries, hence a mortality rate of 1.75%.  

*source: worldometers

However, the news media was now also starting to have an element of good news as vaccines were now becoming common use intervention in almost all continents.  Even South Africa was now starting its vaccination campaigns based on Astra Zeneca vaccine, despite SA having been the origin of the new ‘South African variant’ of a new corona strain.  So, the virus was mutating, but vaccines were also already in use.  This corona thing shall be gone, as I keep saying, and… gone soon.

Ok, let corona be for now.  Back to my feel-good moment this Monday.  I knew that it shall be a good run the moment I took that first step at about 4.45pm.  My body was just in good form.  I did not feel any of those discomforts that have plagued each of my runs since January.  I have previously had some form of discomfort during each of my runs, starting from stomach pains to leg pains, headaches to upper body stiffness.  But today, I did not feel any of that.

I set off and knew at that point that I was going to have the best run ever.  The weather was also perfect.  It had rained in the night and drizzled during part of the day.  There was no rain in the evening, but the sun had been completely blocked out by the rain clouds that remained prevalent on the sky.  I had a feeling that it would probably rain at some point in the evening, maybe even during the run, but I was not worried about being rained on.  Let it happen.  I was not going to waste this beautiful weather due to worry over the unknown.

I was crossing Waiyaki way after about fifteen minutes of run.  I could feel that my pace was faster.  That stretch of the highway to Ndumbo stage that would usually ‘get to me’ on other occasions was just a breeze on this day.  I was soon past Ndumbo, with all its matatu and boda commotions.  I was heading down Kapenguria road past Wangari Maathai institute and past the river.  I ran through the hill to Lower Kabete road without much ado.  I was just top notch on this day.  I wondered why this was so.

Could it be the feel-good due to the book launch that I had attended the previous day at Karasani?  When my niece Eddah was unveiling her second book ‘Shekinah Glory’, a daily devotional book, with a big acknowledgement given to me as her favourite uncle?  What was it with me today?  Could it be that I had just taken wimbi uji and nothing else since morning, and that it was having a cleansing effect on my system?  I just did not know what today was all about, since I just kept running and was soon done with the slight uphill on Lower Kabete road and diverted to my left to Mary Leakey route and then would be running across the university farm.  

I emerged at ‘the tank’ and joined Kanyariri road by a right turn.  I started feeling a slight bout of tiredness as I faced this stretch of road towards Kanyariri shopping centre, however, this setback would be short lived as I regained my energy levels as the hill progressed towards Gitaru market.  I did a U-turn at Gitaru market and started on the downhill on the same Kanyariri road.  I would soon be overtaken by some other runner, who shouted back, “Strong!”

I must have taken this comment seriously, since I would get my ‘strong’ on the legs and started sprinting down the road, overtaking him in less than a minute, since he had somehow decided to also either reduce his speed or had been showing off with his overtaking and had burnt out.  I was not to see or hear his footsteps behind me anymore.  I kept the downhill sprint, even as I met the many students in small groups, in their green uniforms taking over all of the road.  I suspect that they must have been from the Kanyariri High school, just besides the road.  I overtook them and kept my run.

I was now just looking forward to that last hill towards Ndumbo market.  That was the only hurdle on my way to the finish line.  My conquest on that hill would make this already good run even better.  I started that hill by following some other runner who was ahead but only for a moment.  I would soon overtake him on the hill.  One thing about overtaking a runner on a hill is that you really need to be sure that you want to do that.  A hill makes you run slow to start with, and at the same time, you need to run fast enough to overtake and stay ahead of the person that you have overtaken.  Get your timing wrong and you shall burnout your chest, at the expense of the runner that you intended to overtake.

I had already known this fact, so I just had to assimilate to some comfortable uphill pace and steadily overtook the runner.  I did not even look back.  The hill was already frying my legs and I did not want to do anything silly like try to accelerate because the runner was on my back, no, I just looked ahead and maintained my steady uphill pace.  I would soon not hear the footsteps which I had heard struggling behind me for about twenty metres after overtaking.  I was now on my own, ready to pass through the busy Ndumbo roadside market and then be out of that crazy place with matatus, bodas, people, traders and sundry.

I was finally out of Ndumbo and onto the Waiyaki way.  I would run about half a kilometre before crossing over the mid-road barrier to join the road that passes besides Kabete Poly.  For the first time I felt some lethargy creeping into my legs.  I could feel the pressure and pain on my knees and calves.  The run had gotten the better of me.  It was now a struggle to just keep running.  I was now just wishing for the finish line, which was not yet in sight, if anything, I still had about ten minutes of run.  From this point on, with the legs aching as they were, I would just have to rely on willpower to finish this run.  It had started well, but the end was torturous.

Those last ten minutes were just pure hell, but I went through and managed to finish the run just before 7.00pm.  The stats proved that today was the best run day ever – I clocked an average pace of 4.54min, the first time I had hit a sub-5 maybe in 6-months?  I would have to check that, but it is long since I saw a sub-5 on my records.  Let the legs ache, let the headache afflict me, I do not care for now.  Let me continue riding the feel-good train.  I do not know when I shall get on board such a train again.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Feb. 8, 2021