A run in two cities… the winner is…

A run in two cities… the winner is…

It was hardly one week ago when I did that final run at the city of Eldy.  It was a Tuesday and I was set to travel back to the city on the very next day.  I just had to do that run because it was the last run.  I was now used to that 5.5km circuit around Pioneer estate.  Even the folks were now used to seeing me around.

“Ndio huyo mkimbiaji,” that was how my young fans around the 3km turn at the informal settlement parts of the trail would acknowledge me.  They, a group of three to five youngsters, hardly ten, would occasionally run along for about twenty-metres before giving up.  I liked the way they ran along.  They would sprint very fast ahead of my constant paced run.  They would then just drop out after running out of breath.  Both boys and girls would be in this group.  I would get them at the very same place for the other three circuits through this trail.  I liked them.  They seemed to like me.

“Kipchoge! Kipchoge! Kipchoge!,” that was the other group of totos who would acknowledge my run.  These ones would be waiting for me just after the church, before I would turn right to leave the main road and head towards the Sosiani river, where I would run along the river for about a half a kilometer, then take the uphill route through the rocky path.  These young ones just knew me as Kipchoge.  They made no apology or pretense.  I was their hero.  They were my heroes too.

As I was just about to finish a circuit, almost at my starting point, I would pass by this group of two or three motorbike people just hanging around the posho mill area, waiting for passengers.  The very posho mill whose operator now knew me, not as the runner, but as the regular customer.  Now you know what the run muscles are made of.  

Back to the motorbike people.  They would usually assume that I am beyond earshot, as they proceeded to bite-my-back (backbite).

“Huyo jamaa hukimbia kila siku!” (That person runs daily) 

Of course, that is not true, I only ran twice a week, but whom am I to say anything over a bitten back!

Once I did meet a fellow runner – just once in the whole month of October when I was on that circuit around Pioneer.  He was a few metres ahead when I was joining the main tarmac road near the Kimalel primary school.  He was enjoying his relatively fast pace.  I was on my own pace.  He kept going… ahead.  I kept following… behind.  That is how we did our run.  He would soon be gone.  

But it is not just while on the circuit that I did not meet runners, I also did not meet any runners even when I was running the 8km length of tarmac from Eldy to Kipkenyo centre and back.  I was a lunch hour runner.  It is possible the other runners were early risers or ran on different routes.  I never got to know ‘the secret’ of when the great world athletes do run.

“Leo ulichelewa kidogo,” was another comment I got one day, when I had just cleared the over 2-hours run and was heading home.  It came from a stranger who was slashing a fence edge.  I did not know him.  He however seemed to have known my start and end timings.  I am not sure whether he was factual but I accepted his assertions nonetheless.  What other reaction do you expect from a tired marathoner who is seriously struggling to hit that finishing line!

“Uko sawa!  Hebu gota!,” that was another encounter, when I was not even running.  I was just taking an afternoon walk when a stranger approached me from behind as I headed towards the Eldoret-Kapsabet road.  I would in a moment cross that road and walk next to Sosiani Primary school, and keep going through the posh side of Eldy, all the way towards Moi Teaching hospital about two kilometres later.  So, this guy was chasing me just to ‘gota’ me.  He would then clarify that, “Mimi naishi hapo tu next. Mimi ukuona manze. Unachapa tizi – hebu gota tena!”

I will miss Eldy.  I tend to think that Eldy will miss me too, if the above encounters are anything to go by.  But last Tuesday was the last run, in the high-altitude terrain, above 2,000m elevation above sea level.  It was a run I struggled with, but I ended up with a 4.58min/km average.  The first time I had hit under five during my three months stay in that home of champs.  Only one other time did I run a 5.00 during that October month that I did those twice a week runs on that trail.  I was a 5.20s person.  Those two records were music.

I was back to Nairobi on this Wednesday, just when the Government of Kenya was announcing new corona prevention directives.  To start with, curfew hours had been revised downwards.  The curfew would now start at 10pm instead of 11pm.  The end time remained 4.00am.  Facemasks were now a must, no more jokes, no more games, no more soft ball.  Immediate arrest and fines were now expected for any person found without one.  It was now going to be a stricter time, even for runners.  The new directives were to remain in force until end of January 2021.  This was now a corona with a difference!

I decided to rest for a week, especially to heal that left wheel, the one that was x-rayed hardly a week ago.  It was found intact, but why it still pains after a run remains a mystery that even the docs cannot resolve.  Maybe I am now destined to live with the pain.  I have adopted an ‘accept and move on’ for this left leg. (Accept and walk on!)

Finally!  It was a Monday, it was a run day.  I would be taking the first run in the city since August.  I hoped that the routes had remained the same, just as I left them.  It was 12.30pm and I was soon out on the same good old route from Uthiru past Kabete poly to cross Waiyaki way and run towards Ndumbo, then the Kapenguria road, to join Lower Kabete road.  

From that junction, I was to run the 800m to the left junction that would take me past Mary Leakey school, then onwards towards the University farm, and eventually back to the Kanyariri tarmac, at ‘the tank’.  From the tank, I would turn right and run about 3km on Kanyariri road towards Gitaru, but make a U-turn at the 3km landmark and start my run back to Uthiru.

The run remained true to description – just as the coach prescribed.  Nothing much had changed.  The hills remained hilly.  The muddy parts along the University farm remained muddy.  The route remained tough as usual and surely nothing had changed.  But there was some new road construction depot just across Kabete police, where I saw very huge godowns that are likely to be holding road construction materials.  I am aware that the road from the airport all the way past city centre to Uthiru and beyond shall be made into a double decker soon – and that soon seemed to be now!

My first Nairobi run since August would eventually come to an end at around 2.30pm, after a 1hr 56min and 21sec run.  The average time was 5.00min/km.  I was now convinced that Nairobi was not high altitude.  I did not feel that much run resistance in this trail, unlike the difficult run experience of Eldy.  However, let me not speak too soon.  I need to give this run a second try and confirm that it is not as tasking.

But can I forget this new corona directive by GOK?  I cannot!  It had hit me in the morning, some two hours before the run.  I was walking from home towards the workplace when I met a group of about fifty people kind-of blocking the road, just next to the roundabout.  

A police vehicle had parked on the right edge of the road, blocking oncoming traffic.  Just next to the police vehicle was a heavy machinery engine, a grader, I believe.  I was seeing so much that was happening all over, in such a short time, to even decipher what was going on.  My reading of the situation was that the grader was demolishing kiosks near that roundabout and the residents were protesting this move.  

It did not take me long to even think twice before…

“Kijana kuja hapa!”

I turned.  I was now just crossing the road, ahead of the police car that was blocking the road.  I was set to cross to the extreme end of the road and walk towards Nairobi Water treatment compound and past the roundabout.

It was not me who was being kijana-d, it was a mwananchi behind me.  I would soon observe him fall into the grip of some plain clothed person.  I guessed it must have been a policeman, by virtue of him holding a walkie-talkie and hanging around the road-blocking police car.

“Wapi mask!  Mbona unatembea bila mask!?,” the plain clothed policeman asked him.  

By this time he was tightly gripping the persons trousers on the waist area.  That was not a grip that he was going to get out of – no way.

I was already twenty metres gone, towards the roundabout to know how that episode ended.  The only episode that I would finally see was the corona numbers when I looked them up on the worldometers site.  Global infections stood at 50,961,502, with 1,265,101 death and 35,914,825 recovering.  That put the active cases at 13,781,576 as at today, Monday.  Our own country at no. 75 ranked by total infections, had 63,244 confirmed cases, 1,130 deaths, 42,659 recoveries and hence 19,455 active cases.

However, it is not all gloom.  For the first time we have a very promising vaccine candidate by Pfizer/BioNTech collaboration.  This candidate has an efficacy of 90%, and is likely to be rolled out to the masses by the end of the month!  As I said severally, corona is progressively going to be conquered and life shall get back to normal - the real normal, not this curfew-masks-normal, but the normal-normal.

WWB, the coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Nov. 9, 2020

Forgiveness at 16k – with schools on, and marathons on (not)

Forgiveness at 16k – with schools on, and marathons on (not)

“Raiz aliompa ara-Rudo msamaha, imachin!,” a heard from a boda rider, who was in conversation with another two riders.  The three had congregated under a tree to shield themselves from the mid-day sun.  They were just standing to my right, on the edge of the road under construction, where I was now on an uphill run.  In a few moments I would pass besides Pioneer police post on my right and then immediately pass by Kimalel primary to my left.  After that I would hit the main tarmac road that goes to Kipkenyo, where I would turn left and then back left again to continue doing my loops around the trail.

I had just hit 16k, being my third circuit on the planned five circuit run on this trail, when I encountered the riders.  This trail was about a 5k loop and it had all the ingredients of a ‘real’ trail, from uneven roads, stony paths, roads under construction, muddy patches, rocky sections, hills, downhills, overgrowths, farmlands and even crossing of streams, albeit formative ones.  It is a trail that has finally tamed me into the reality of what a ‘proper’ run is all about.  Forget about those smooth marathons that we run back in the city, where they even close roads and divert traffic to allow us through.  This trail was the real ‘down to earth’ run – down to the earth, literally.

I remember seeing this group of riders at this very spot on the road the previous two times that I had gone through this circuit.  It was just coincidental that they were on loud talk this time around as I passed by a third time.  I had noted that they tended to keep quiet as they observed my approach.  They would then start talking when I was gone just beyond earshot.  I knew that they were discussing my run and how crazy it was to run in this hot sun.  I knew that they were doubting my sanity, due to the ‘ndio huyo tena’ statement that I could overhear, with strained ears when I was passing by.

I believe that on this Monday, the politics of the previous Saturday was just too hot to keep cool.  They just had to politic over this issue that had occurred during the National Day of Prayer held on that Saturday.  On that Sato, the national leaders had gathered for the prayers and the prezi had asked for forgiveness, but had also forgiven.  The boda group did not want to hear the ‘forgiven’ part.  They were more interested in the ‘forgive’ part.

But the boda people were not the only ones discussing the forgive/forgiven dichotomy.  I had heard on a radio talk show that same morning about the intricacies of this issue.  The radio people in fact brought a twist to that statement and said the forgiveness was conditional.  It was a ‘If I have wronged …’ conditional, meaning that it was not blanket.  They were also quick to point out that the counter statement did not have an if, it was unconditional, ‘I forgive’ (no ifs on this).

The boda people could hear nothing of any analysis on the statement.  They knew that they had achieved what they wanted – an ‘unconditional’ asking for forgiveness, for what they perceived to be harassment of their very own leader.  That is what counted.  

I was still engrossed in this forgiveness thing when I soon passed by Kimalel primary to my left.  I could see the students starting to stream out of the gate for the lunch break.  They were supposed to be having their face masks on.  I did not see them in any.  They were supposed to walk singly, without crowding – the so called ‘social distant’ walk (SD walk).  There was none of that.  I observed them hi-fiving each other and walking in groups as they headed out of the compound.  Corona prevention best practices were not working with the young ones.  Only the Most High would continue to see us through this pandemic.  This is beyond human effort – it would not be by power, not by might.

I would continue with this Monday run and add to it the last two laps.  I finally brought home the run after five loop round the trail.  I was tired, but running at the ‘backyard’ keeps me going since I know that I can easily drop out any time.  I keep running for as long as I want and this is good motivation.  That comfort of being able to drop out is responsible for the final tally of 25.6km in 2.16.26 done on this Monday.  

My average actually improved to 5m 20sec per km, over the last Friday run when it was 5m 29sec.  As I said, the trail has humbled me.  The high altitude has not made things any easier.  I have built up my resilience from the usual 5min average to the 5m 20sec on the high altitude.  I am improving, hard to believe but from 5min to 5min 20sec is an improvement – all factors considered.  It is hard arithmetic but get pen and paper and you shall be able to calculate that truth for yourself.

It is now a Wednesday.  I have had two days of rest.  Schools have reopened for three days, with class 4 and class 8 now being regulars in primary schools and form 4s being in session in secondary schools.  Universities and colleges started their reopening earlier in the month and they are progressively allowing their students back.  Restrictions on sports events are also being lifted.  The country even hosted an international athletics event two weeks ago.  Restrictions on marathons have however not been lifted, but it is no longer all gloom.  

Very soon life shall be back to normal and corona shall come to an end.  The very corona virus that causes COVID-19 whose global numbers* stand at 38,433,470 infections, 1,092,083 deaths and 28,888,220 recoveries.  The numbers in Kenya are 41,937; 787 and 31,340 respectively.  We are ranked 71 on the global list of 216 countries, based on total infections.  The numbers may seem high, but this pandemic shall soon be tamed – watch this space.

*all figures from worldometers website

WWB, the Coach, Eldy, Kenya, Oct. 14, 2020

Of 2100 – the altitude, attitude, distance and time

Of 2100 – the altitude, attitude, distance and time

Last Friday’s run was a disaster!  It is the run that never even started.  I left the house at 11.45am but my steps were so wobbly by the half-kilometre mark, that I immediately knew that I was not fit for the run on this day.  I ended up just jog-walking through some routes near the house and somehow managed a 4km ‘jog-wa’.  I accepted that that was not my run day and I quickly moved on to waiting for the great London marathon of Sunday.

Two days later and it was Sunday. Yes, and that was yesterday Sunday, October 4.  The day of the London marathon, when our very own Kenyan world marathon record holder, Kipchoge, would square it off with Bekele of Ethiopia at the London marathon in the UK.  However, the squaring off was not to be, since Kip’s competitor withdrew from the marathon due to injury.  It was not just Kip. 

It was a given – Kip would run on his own and compete against himself.  Who knows, he could even beat the 2.00.00 time that has been elusive in the forever history of the marathon.  The world record, his record, now stood at 2.01.39.  Nonetheless, Kip had already run a 1.59 in that solo Ineos event on 12-Oct-2019 in Vienna Austria – 1.59.40 to be exact.  We now wanted to see a 2.00.00 in a competitive marathon, and London of April, now held in October due to the postponement forced by the corona, seemed to be the event for this.

On this Sunday I was glued to the screen to watch the men’s event, after the women event had been won by Kenya’s Brigid Kosgei who defended the title successfully in a time of 2.18.58.  The men’s event would soon start, and the leading pack that included the pacesetters and Kip started together kept going together, all the way to the half-way point. 

This marathon route was a loop of 2.1km that was to be done nineteen times.  So, we saw a loop run, then another loop, and many more loop runs continued.  We had hoped that there would be a time and place when Kip would break out of the pack.  However, Kip was not breaking out of the pack even after the halfway point.  This was not like him.  He is known to leave the pack at about this point and just sprint off, even touting his compatriots to take him on if they can.  This was missing in this run.  He was just sandwiched in that leading group, even falling behind pack at some point.

It was over for Kip when it was about two more loops to go and Kip started falling behind the leading pack for five.  He was more than one hundred metres behind the leaders by the last loop.  I believe that even that leading pack was quite surprised that Kip was not with them to fight for the honours.  By the time they realized that they could as well win this without him, the time had really gone and no record would be broken on this day, with just one lap of 2km to go. 

Kitata of Ethiopia would beat our own Kipchumba to the line by a second, in a time of 2.05.41.  I admired Kipchoge perseverance all the way to the finish line where he was position 8 in a time of 2.06.49.

You win some and you lose some… and life continues.  That is the whole essence of marathons – knowing that the body decides to operate the way it decides on the day of a marathon.  Kipchoge would later confirm that he had pain in his right ear and also cramps in his hip and leg.  That is the discomfort that he had to endure of the distance, but he managed.  I admire his spirit and have learnt something – run days are different but keep running….

It is that spirit of running that got me out of the house today, Monday.  I had already decided that I would do a trail run.  I was not treading the tarmac anymore.  I have done enough tarmac to Kipkenyo and back, and then to Langas and back.  It was now time to avoid the tarmac in total and try something new – first time at this home of champs. 

I did not have any predefined map when I started the run.  I just wanted to explore and discover the trail as I went along.  I headed towards Sosiani river and followed a route near it.  I then followed some footpaths and kept going.  I finally emerged at the Chief’s camp at Pioneer, which I was quite familiar with, and then made my way back to the starting line.  My calculation was that this circuit was about 4k.  I now had a trail to run through for five loops and that would give me my half marathon.

I therefore intended to run 21,000m distance on the 2,100m altitude, with a ‘keep running’ attitude and the aim of doing a time of 2.10.00.  The intention was well and good, but the new trail run showed me who was king – that was not me!  Only the 2,100m altitude was achieved.  The distance turned out to be 25.3km, the time turned out to be 2.18.09 and the attitude turned out to be that of ‘respect the trail’.  The trail brought in all manner of ‘unexpectations’.  First, the run near the Sosiani river was full of rocks and water streams.  The footpaths were dry and dusty.  The rest of the roads were mainly earth roads.  I hardly experienced any tarmac. 

The 2100m above sea level did not mean that it was a flat run.  Far from it.  There was a hilly section for about 2km, near the river.  I had to tread carefully, and speed was not an objective on this trail run.  Survival was the objective.  Add to this mix the hot mid-day sun and you can imagine all the ingredients of a typical trail run.  Try it some day.  Just formulate something, even a 1km circuit that has all the mix of rocks, mud, dust, water puddles, some thickets if you can afford, no tarmac if possible and there you have it.  Run around this discovered trail and you shall surely know that trail run just has its thing, which you cannot get from the road runs.

I was now back home and life was continuing as usual.  Kenyan colleges were reopening as higher educational institutions were now getting back post-corona.  COVID-19 infections were still ravaging the planet.  Even the US president, Donald Trump, was now in hospital after being infected with the Corona virus!  The worldwide numbers kept rising - 35,464,018 infections, 1,042,901 deaths and 26,671,115 recoveries.  Our Kenyan numbers were 39,427 infections, 731 deaths and 25,659 recoveries.  Life continues despite corona, and so do runs, even as I now planned to purchase new running shoes following the tearing effect of the stones on the soles of the current ones.

WWB, the Coach, Eldy, Kenya, 05-Oct-2020

When tired…. Accept and run on

When tired…. Accept and run on

Monday was my usual day of run.  I was good to go, after a three-day rest period.  I started the run at 11.40am and felt fairly well as I did that first kilometre.  The weather was good, being sunny with the morning sun.  However, it was a bit hot, even as I finished the first k and started on the second.  I was on the same good old ‘new’ route from Eldy town to Kipkenyo centre and back.  The turning point at the centre is on the 8km mark, and that is where I was aiming for.  My tiredness started being manifest on the second kilometre.  I just felt tired thereafter and almost turned back.  The spirit was however willing but it was residing on a weak body on this day.  Was it the heat?  Was it the high altitude?  Was it just the day to be tired?

I however kept going with a view of ‘stretching’ the run to the very limit of collapse, then see how it shall go.  This stretching would get me to the 8km turning back point at ACK Kipkenyo Secondary.  I was just glad that I had made it to this turning point.  But now the real task was just about to start.  I was now 8km from home and I was as tired as a log.  I had to somehow drag myself through the uphill that runs from 2000m above sea leave at the 8km mark, to the 2100m at the finish line.  This run back has been difficult every time that I have been on this run.  Today it was twice difficult as I was the most tired ever.

What must be done must be done, and so I just turned back and started the slow uphill hill over the eight-thousand metres.  That distance was long!  It is just the dream of hitting that finish line eventually, at some point, that kept me going.  I would otherwise have just given up and probably taken a matatu back, in my sweaty form.  I did not take the matatu, but instead kept going.  I usually do not carry money with me, and hence the matatu option would also have not worked anyway.  

My tired body pounded that tarmac somehow, all the way to the 15km mark at the junction where I would either turn to the left to go back to the finish, or turn right to increase my kilometre-age through Langas Kisumu Ndogo.

The mere thought of turning right was already just painful, leave alone forcing my body to turn to the right when the time came.  Finally, I was at the junction and…. And I surely turned left and headed to the finish line.  There was no way I was going for anything more than a k.  I was just glad that I would be finishing the run in another five minutes.  I eventually finished run!  How I managed the 16.32km in a time of 1.28.26 is still a wonder.  That 5.25min per km pace was the most painful pace I have experienced in a long time.  

I was exhilarated that I had managed to finish the day’s run ‘somehow’.  The tiredness would just momentarily evaporate, just like that, since I was back to normalcy immediately after the shower.  Despite this, I wanted to forget the experiences of this run in a hurry and be ready for a better experience next time.  Nonetheless, the body dictates and decides on how to carry itself – some days are good, others days are bad and yet others are ugly.  Today was one of those Mondays.

I would momentarily be seated for the afternoon rest.  The next major event of the week was to be the announcement by the GOK on the next stages of COVID-19 restrictions, since the current modalities were set to expire tomorrow, Tuesday.  I expected that announcement same tomorrow.  I thought that that is the date of announcement as already promised.  It was therefore a real surprise when I heard the prime news item that the announcement was actually on this very day.  I am however already used to extension of restrictions, and was therefore not expecting any better, whether the announcement was today or tomorrow.  

Corona aka ‘the thing’ or TT was still causing havoc on planet earth.  Worldwide confirmed infections now stood at 33,492,659* with 1,005,057 fatalities (3% mortality rate) and 24,801,703 recoveries.  At number 69 in the world, ranked by number of infections was Kenya with 38,168 infections, 700 deaths (1.8% mortality rate) and 24,681 recoveries.  In Kenya, the rate of samples that are being confirmed positive from any sample size was now about 4%, from a high of 14% in June.  This reduced positivity rate had already generated a debate that corona was now a goner, and that life should be reinstated back to ‘normal’.  I was not holding my breath on this end-of-TT prediction.  And it is even good that I did not….

There were no surprises when the night curfew was extended for another two months, meaning that night events would continue to be off until December.  Despite this, more extensions during that December festive month is the likely scenario.  This thing is likely to run until 2021.  The curfew hours had however been shortened to 11pm to 4am, unlike the previous 9pm to 4am.  

Other extensions of restrictions included public gathering still being limited, but to 200 people instead of 100, while the tax reprieve for individuals and corporates would remain in force until end of year.  Attendance at places of worship would remain restricted, but the maximum numbers had now been revised to one-third of the building’s capacity.  Schools and educational institutions would however remain closed, until the ‘how’ of their operation upon reopening was addressed.  

Finally, it was a reprieve to liquor business since bars would be opened for the first time in six months, and they would operate until ten.  Other eateries which could not sell liquor previously, despite being open, would now also be allowed to offer ‘kanyuanji’ to their revelers.  This was a long time coming and I know that hell shall break loose when these restrictions are lifted from tomorrow.  

Well, marathons remain suspended and maybe being tired today was just a good thing, as I can continue resting in readiness for the time when the runs resume.  It could have been a disaster if I would have felt this way during one of the September marathons such as Ndakaini.

*All data from worldometers website

WWB, the coach, Eldy, Kenya, 28-Sep-2020

When Thursday is Friday

When Thursday is Friday

I would have to miss my Friday run and I was not happy about it.  However, what must be done must be done, and on this Friday the ‘what must be done’ was to get back to Huduma centre, three weeks later to confirm if the new smart DL was ready.  It was on such a Friday, three weeks ago, that I was spending my whole morning at the centre, to initiate the renewal and migration process.  Renewal because the license had expired, and migration because I had to get the new smart card size chip card that is the new license to replace the ‘red book’.

I was therefore forcing myself onto a Friday run on Thursday.  I would have preferred to have the Friday run on Friday as expected, but the Huduma appointment was just too important for even the usual Friday run appointment.  Occasionally, Thursdays are Fridays in the world of marathons, and the Thursday’s Friday run became a reality on this Thursday.  I was still tired from the Monday 25k, but the Friday was already here, one day earlier, and I just had to do this.

This Thursday run would be the good old ‘new normal’.  I was now used to this old ‘new route’ from Eldy town to Kipkenyo centre and back.  When back, I would add the Langas (Kisumu Ndogo) loop to make the run complete.  This run turned out to be heavier on my legs than usual.  I was hardly surviving the run.  While I did an ‘under 5min per km’ on Monday hardly three days ago, I was sure that I would even be do a ‘6min per km’ on this Thursday.  That would still be very OK with me.  I was just too tired and wanted to get this Thursday-Friday run done with.

After about 1hr and 40 minutes, I was emerging from the Langas road to join the Kapsabet-Eldy road to head towards town.  I would soon be through with the run.  The weather was unusually hot.  It has not rained for three days, after a streak of about a week of daily rains.  I was sweating profusely.  The air seemed humid and I laboured to get a full chest intake of air.  I however persisted since the run would soon be over.  I would momentarily run past Eldoret Poly that was on the opposite side of the road.  I kept my run towards town, with the vehicles to town alongside my run route, just to my right.  They overtook me, but I kept going.

After about five minutes on the highway, I would see the imposing white story building that houses Khetia supermarket just ahead, across Sosiani river.  I would have reached that mart just across the river, some two hundred metres after the river had I continued on with the main tarmac.  I would instead turn left just before the river.  I would then take another left turn for the road towards my finish line.  I was just glad to have finished the run.  I was shocked that I was actually on a 5min 14sec average pace.  I was sure I was on the six-ish range.  That was still fast over the 24k route.  However, on this day, I was just glad that I was through with the second and last run of the week.  Phew!  No more runs until next week.

Looking ahead, I still had that Friday appointment with Huduma that I was not looking forward to.  And I had hardly had any rest before it was a Friday already and I found myself on the Huduma queue at 7.30am.  I had thought that I was early, but I ended up being about the fortieth person on the ‘NTSA’ queue.  It seemed that this queue had created a reputation of its own, since it was now secluded for ‘licenses’ only, out of the over twenty services available at the centre.  Other people who wanted to get other services had their own single queue.  On this day, this ‘other queue’ for all ‘other services’ had less than ten people.  Our own queue kept growing with over thirty people behind me.  Long and short queue, we all waited for the doors of the Post Office that house the centre to open at eight.

At eight the doors did open and we started streaming into the internal of the building, in batches of ten.  The ‘system’ must have been working well on this day, since I was inside the building at 8.30am, to now face the internal queue.  I was not in any hurry with the service.  I was here to stay even upto midnight, provided the service was on offer.  My fingers were now just crossed over this ‘system’ issue.  Hoping that it would decide to continue behaving.  So far, so good.

There was nothing noteworthy in the collection of the ATM card sized license.  Just hand over your national ID, scan your index finger, sign a register, repeat telling them your phone number, which is already on the register and also on the system that they are using anyway, then off you go with your two cards that they would have handed back to you.  Simple!  Why it takes forever still beats me!

I left the centre at ten-thirty.  That was a record.  On this day, I was facing almost similar settings to those that were prevalent some three weeks ago, when I spent two more hours.  Maybe things are changing for the better.  I sure did hope so.  Maybe it was that threat of dissolution of ‘the government’ and the very possibility that we shall in 90-days be in similar queues to re-elect a ‘new government’?  Whatever it was that was making service faster, should surely continue being there.  However, it was not all rosy inside the centre.  We observed as four or five ‘strange’ people jumped the queue and got served ahead of our waiting group.  These ‘jumpers’ would normally be brought in by the soldier man with the big gun hang on his shoulders.  Dare you say?  Well, that is life, but our patient eventually paid off.

I walked back home with lots of questions.  I still did not get the rationale of change of licenses from ‘red book’ to ‘ATM’ aka smart DL.  Was it just to make us queue?  And part with 3k?  I still did not see its real value even as I examined its information, which was just similar to what is on the national ID.  Didn’t one of the people on the queue even state that we shall be renewing this card every three years?  Facing the same pay-queue-apply-queue-collect cycle?  What is the obsession with ‘new’ cards?  Do not even remind me that we still have the Huduma number card still pending.  The very card that was supposed to ‘consume’ all cards into a single universal card.  Yes, the Huduma number of June last year, that was to have been issued by August…. last year.

I would have been able to still do the Friday run on schedule after all, since I was through with Huduma in very good time and could have been ready and available for the mid-day run.  Anyway, what is done is done and that Friday run on Thursday was still hurting my feet on this day.  It still counted as Friday run for that reason.

“Ooopppssss!,” I exclaimed, hardly one hour after thinking about the possibility of the run.  

It was already drizzling.  The drizzles would soon turn into a heavy rain.  It was torrential by one.  I was now glad that I did not do my run on this Friday.  It could have been the most messed up run of the month.  But things would get worse.  The rain persisted all through the afternoon all the way into the night.  It was still raining by eleven.  At this rate it would probably rain throughout the night.  

So as the rain continued in the background, I could not help but just sit around and get some current affairs going.  I would hear that we are soon coming to the ‘end of Corona’, with schools set to re-open next month.  It was now forgone that life would have to go on despite any prevailing circumstances.  The circumstances of which included the fact that worldwide COVID-19 infections now stood at 32,695,693 with 991,661 fatalities and 24,096,953 recoveries.  In Kenya, we would have to live our lives as normally as possible despite 37,707 infections, 682 fatalities and 24,504 recoveries.  Life continues.

WWB, Eldy, Kenya, Friday, September 25, 2020

Six months later…

Six months later…

Today has many significant events worth remembering.  It is 9-11.  Yes, the date in 2001 when terrorists attached the twin towers buildings in the US and brought them down, causing death to 2,996 people and damage to property.  Thereafter, the terrorists affiliated to the event have continued to attack, damage and kill people in different places in the world, especially on or around this date.

It is also on 3-11, six months ago, when the World Health Organization, WHO, declared that a new virus, the Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome Corona Virus version 2 of 2019 (SARS-CoV-2-2019) as a global pandemic.  The disease caused by this virus came to be known as Corona Virus Disease (COVID-19).  The virus and disease originated from a food market in China’s Wuhan City in Hubei province in December 2019.  The virus then started spreading from China to the rest of the world… one country at a time.

On that date that WHO was declaring ‘the thing’ aka TT as a pandemic, the world had recorded 123,416* infections and 4,641 deaths.  Those 124 thousand infections were distributed in regions as follows Americas had 1010, South-East Asia 189, with 22,320 in Europe, 9966 in Eastern Mediterranean, 71 in Africa and 89,860 in Western Pacific.  The deaths were distributed worldwide as 28 in Americas, 1002 in Europe, 2 is SE Asia, 364 in E-Med, 0 in Africa and 3238 in W-Pacific.

In the same month of March when WHO was declaring that pandemic, and in response to this pandemic did Kenya also initiate a dusk to dawn curfew and lockdown of four regions, including the cities of Nairobi and Mombasa.  On that 3-11 date, when WHO was declaring the worldwide pandemic, Kenya had 0 cases of Corona virus.  

The new virus was spreading through breathing in respiratory droplets (cough, sneeze) from an infected person.  The infected people exhibited symptoms such as fever, dry cough and tiredness as common ones, with some reporting loss of smell and taste.  The virus incubation period was determined as 14-days, leading to such a duration of isolation after travel to a hot zone or self-isolation when one suspected that they had the infection.  

However, only a few of those with the disease required hospitalization, and most would just suffer the discomfort of the infection symptoms and get well without the need for medication.  Getting rid of the virus from their body in two or so weeks.  At the period of disease, those ailing are advised to take lots of rest, avoid interactions with other people, be on a balanced and healthy diet.  Visiting the hospital should be the last resort, when home rest is not helping at all.  

It was therefore a virus that was serious and not serious at the same time.  Serious because it was new, with many unknowns and spreading exponentially, but not serious due to the low mortality and hospitalization rates.  

Unfortunately, some of those who needed hospitalization would turn out to be surely badly off, with respiratory failure and hence needed assistance to breath by use of ventilators.  This need for ventilators posed a new medical challenge since this required a higher level of hospitalization facilities with associated equipment and expertise costs.  This is where the disease was considered a serious thing.  Lack of such intervention would surely mean death.  This is serious I tell you.

Six months later and the world is different.  There are no more social gatherings or any grouping of more than ten.  Bars and night clubs are closed.  Hotels and restaurants are mostly operating take away service or minimal occupancy with short operating hours.  Night life ended, as most countries have night curfews from nine.  People have to put on face masks when in any public place, including while using public or private transport.  

Temperature checks and handwashing or hand-sanitization at entrance to public spaces such as supermarkets, public transport systems and office blocks has become the new norm.  Humanity have to keep a distance of at least one-metre from each other wherever they are, be it while using vehicles or while being served in a supermarket.  This restriction on number of people at any gathering has meant that sports and social events are now cancelled for the year.  

All marathon events are not possible this year.  The organizers of the Stanchart Nairobi International marathon that was to be held on Sunday, October 25, 2020 have already communicated the cancellation. The event is now pushed to next year and is scheduled for Sunday, October 31, 2021.  However, this remains a tentative date, meaning that the possibility of another postponement exists.  That is how badly things have gone.  Ndakaini marathon that should have been held tomorrow, Saturday, September 12 is off.  The Mater Heart run of May was cancelled (read the list of marathons on this earlier blog, where anything scheduled since April 1 has been cancelled)

Our own monthly ‘international’ marathons remain cancelled since March.  I do not see possibility of holding any such event this year.  Nonetheless, individual runs are ongoing just like the one I did this lunch hour, despite them being lonely, boring and non-motivating.  I was on the same route from Eldy town to the 8km junction at Kipkenyo, then back same route then added a twist on the 15k mark leading to a finish on the 22.32km mark.  That was a 1hr 52min 46sec run.  I was glad that I was not rained on, for the first time in many runs.  The last time I took this selfsame route was on Monday.  The rain hit me through the last five minutes of that run.  Today I was lucky, was I not?

But not being rained on did not prevent the world from the reality of Corona virus as we mark the 6-month anniversary of the declaration of the pandemic.  While the total cases were only 124,116* on 3-11, when TT was declared a pandemic, the infections now stand at 27,972,386* with 905,413 deaths.  The infections per region (and fatalities) being 14.4M in Americas (0.5M), 5.1M in SE Asia (89k), 4.6M in Europe (0.2M), 2M in E-Med (54k), 1.1M in Africa (23k) and 0.5M in W-Pacific (11k).  The infection numbers have multiplied 226 times in that 6-month period.

Good news is that the fatality rate for TT remains relatively low at 3.2% world average.  Nonetheless, loss of life remains a serious thing and we do hope that this COVID thing shall be defeated soon.  Several vaccine initiatives are at advanced stages of development, while Russia already has a vaccine available for its masses.  It is now just a matter of time before TT is defeated.  Let us enjoy the secluded moments while they last.  We shall be soon back in the midst of big crowds… laughing out loud in crowded eateries…. while looking back at how 2020 was a totally messed up year.  

Enjoy the moments while they last.

*All the data used in this article are from who.int

WWB, the coach, Eldy Kenya, Sep. 11, 2020

You can predict the weather everywhere else …

You can predict the weather everywhere else …

“I give up on you, Eldy!,” I exclaimed as I watched the floor next to where I was standing progressively get wet and soon get flooded with the rain water that was running down my running gear.  I had been rained on yet again.

I had started the Monday run at 12.30pm when it was hot and shiny.  There was no semblance of clouds on the wide heavenly blue sky.  I was confident that the Friday-like rain would not fall on me on this weather.  I was still set to run on the same new, now turning to be old, route that runs from Eldy town towards Kipkenyo on the 8km mark, then back.  I had already decided on that turning point since my right knee had not improved much since Friday.

If anything, the right knee was feeling worse than it did on Friday.  I was even doubting if I would make it through the run at all.  This feeling started with the first step.  I was in total self-doubt when I got to the first kilometre mark, ready to do the right hand turn to join the tarmac to Kip-kay.  I had already reduced speed though the run was just starting.  I kept going on this slower than normal speed.  I had already decided that I would just struggle to reach the 3k mark, then turn back.

At the 3k, I decided to push myself to the brink of pain and make it to the 5k, which I did.  At that point, I then decided to push it to the 6k.  That would be it!  Just 6k, then I shall turn back.  At 6k I could easily make out the 8k turning point at Kip-kay.  Surely, there was no turning back now, when I could see the 8k just ahead.  That realization even reduced the pain on my knee, making those last two kilometres to the turning point quite fast.

I was glad to finally do the U-turn at Kipkenyo primary school.  I would now just have to run back on the same familiar route.  I kept the self-motivation going.  I had already done half the run.  I would surely finish the run.  The weather continued being hot.  The sky continued being blue without a trace of cloud.  I was glad that my Monday run would be a dry run.

The weather suddenly just changed when I was about three kilometres to the finish.  I started noticing some blackness in the distance horizon ahead, following by some flashes in those distant skies.  This observation was however so many kilometres away from here.  The weather over here remained fairly cloudless though the hot sun had now dimmed for some reason.  There was however no rain and no signs of any rain.

I kept going while the weather remained good by virtue of no sunshine but no rain or cold either.  I was also sensing that the end of the run was near.  I would be done in less than fifteen minutes.  It was still cool with clear skies when I got to the junction that marks one kilometre to the finish.  The distant horizon remained dark.  I knew that it was raining somewhere far, but nothing here.

With my finish so near, and the weather so favourable, I decided to add a twist to the run.  Instead of heading to the finish by a left-turn, I instead turned right at the junction to get to the other side of the road.  I started running onto a new tarmac road still under construction.  I was now running opposite and away from my finish line.  The weather would surely still allow me to squeeze in some extra ks.  My right knee was now well greased after over one hour of run.  I was not feeling any pain.

This decision to run far from my finish would spell the start of my troubles on this day, since I was barely five minutes into this diversion when the once distant darkness of the horizon started approaching the town.  I could see the dark signs of rain steadily approaching my run.  The once clear blue overhead skies started getting the dark cloud cover just before my very eyes.  I kept going against the approaching rain, but now with lots of doubt on the wisdom of extending this run.

I reached the end of the new tarmac and made a U-turn, just as the first drops of rains started falling.  The rain then started chasing me from behind.  I really accelerated on that new tarmac as the rain kept up the chase.  I would soon discover that my speed was no match for the rain, since it momentarily started falling heavily and the rain soon overtook me just before I hit the tarmac junction.

I was not deep in the rain.  My finish line was still one kilometre away.  I was already fully soaked though I had not even been in the rain for over two minutes.  It was heavy.   My shoes were soon completely flooded.  I was now in the thick of things.  I just had to keep going to the finish line, adding a little extra distance towards the finish now that I was already being rained on anyway.

I finished the run after 1hr 45min in the middle of the blinding rain.  The time was 2.15pm.  Then the rain just got switched off, just like that!  Before my very eyes!  It has rained for about fifteen minutes but it had mostly rained on me.  The end of the run marked the end of the rain.  The dark cloud cover would soon evaporate from the skies leaving the familiar blue azure overhead.

“I give up on Eldy!,” I exclaimed a second time as I marveled at the change of weather that was unfolding before my very eyes.  It would even shine, and brightly so, later in the day.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Aug. 31, 2020

Same run, but different run

Same run, but different run

The Friday run was to be a repeat – a reconfirmation that Monday was not an accidental run.  On that Monday I was forced to take a thirty-minute break at the very middle of the run, at the turning point, when the rains just started from nowhere.  That break was a good rest.  After the rest, it was a smooth run back through the 10.5km.  However, I noted that I was really struggling with my run, as if some force was pushing me back.  I however managed to finish the run and break a 21km record in the process.

On this Friday, I wanted to confirm that this run was still possible, without a break.  I left for this run at about 12.30pm.  The sun was already overhead, though it was not very hot as it had to also contend with the cloud cover that came on and off over time.  The start of the run was fun, without any pressure and the route was easy.  I now had the route profile in memory.  I would just run the 8km, then make a gentle left turn for another ten minutes, and would then do a U-turn when I felt like it.

The run to the 8km was good.  Though the route seemed to be hilly, in my sight, I found it quite easy to run on.  My right wheel was however still giving me trouble.  It pained as I ran, but seemed to improve with time.  I could feel the pressure of pain on my knee and had to reduce speed at places.  Accelerating was out of the question due to the pressure that the knee was struggling to handle… and failing to handle.  The knee pain subsided and was virtually gone as I headed to Kipkenyo.  

After the 8km turn, at Kipkenyo, I started on the 2km stretch that would get me to the DEB school, where I was rained on last time.  I passed by the school and kept going for another five or so minutes, before I found a place that I would do a U-turn.  The sun was still hot as I did the turn, ready to replicate the run back to my starting point.  

My troubles started when I was now back to the DEB school, hardly 12km onto the run.  I started feeling that force pushing against my run.  I reduced speed and kept going, almost coming to a halt, even halting at some point.  I was feeling the fatigue of the run.  The road profile, in my eyes, was generally downhill.  So why would I be struggling with a downhill run?  If anything, I should be rolling without an effort!  But believe it or not, I was hardly able to keep up with the run.

I could have abandoned the run altogether, but I was already too deep in the run, and of course, did not have any alternative.  I had to make it back to the finish line, or otherwise be lost many kilometres from my destination.  I motivated myself that I had done worse runs before and that kept me going.  I kept struggling but kept running.  I kept estimating my remaining ‘survival’ distance as I kept going.

Finally, I reached the last left turn for that spelt the last one kilometre.  I was re-energized.  I was going to make it to the finish line.  The sun was still hot but that did not mean a thing.  I was going to finish the run.  And soon, in another five minutes, I did finish the run.  I recorded a distance of 23.28km in 1.54.00.  The verdict for this particular run was that I barely survived.  

For a second time in four days, I was still unfortunate not to meet any runner at this home of champions.  Maybe my run time was occurring at the wrong time?  And just like my initial denial on Monday, the map profile on Runkeeper and Endomondo still indicated that there was a 100m uphill run when I start the run back after the U-turn.  My eyes may have been seeing otherwise, but the geography of the earth did not lie – the last 11km was a continuous uphill.

WWB, the Coach, Eldoret, Kenya, Aug. 21, 2020

When I had to rate Eldo-rate... the run way

 When I had to rate Eldo-rate... the run way

The taps of the heavens opened up fully just when I got to my intended turning point.  The timer was just reading 10.75km.  I had to take shelter on the front canopy of a roadside shop.  I would soon be joined onto the same corridor by a motorbike and passenger.  The two disembarked and the rider pushed the bike onto the corridor space.  A second motorcycle with a passenger would soon join our trio onto the corridor.  The rain persisted.  It was heavy.  I could see the main tarmac road, traversing my line of sight just about ten metres ahead, full of rainwater.  

Vehicles would speed up on either direction, splashing a full shower onto the roadsides.  It was heavy.  A third motorbike would momentarily force itself onto the corridor.  This one had just a single rider.  It did not take long before a fourth bike, with its carrier full of boxes, forced itself onto the corridor that now had six people standing.  All fourteen eyes were soon gazing through the rain, onto the road.  The rooftop iron-sheets made a noise, momentarily deafening us.  We remained quiet.  We kept gazing.  It kept raining.  It was heavy.

The rain subsided after about thirty minutes.  It was not just about two o’clock.  I was the first to leave, when the rains had turned into drizzles.  I would start my runback as a steady pace.  The four bikes would soon overtake my running frame.  I did not care.  I was running my run, going back through the route that I had already traversed for about fifty minutes.  I knew it all too well, only that it was now wet and muddy, unlike my earlier dry run.  

The main tarmac remained fairly deserted, with a vehicle zooming past in either direction after about every two minutes.  I would just have to persist with my run on the return route, until I finally finished my run.  The run was however a bit difficult.  I could feel the efforts that I had to put on my legs to kick forward.  Nairobi runs seemed easy over similar distances.  But this one?  Not this one!  This was having a toll on my legs, despite my runs being just less than fifteen kilometres done by this time.

But how did this run come to be?

I had decided on a lunch hour run since I had observed that it tended to rain over the evenings.  I was therefore continuing my runs over the lunch hour, just as I had done in the big city.  Mornings were out, because morning are sleep times for the time being, special thanks to TT for forcing humanity into lockdown and stay homes.  By morning all should be in self-isolation, which should end from around ten-ish.  I was confident that the lunch-hour time slot was still the suitable one for a run.

It was a Monday, and so it was a run day.  I left for the run at 12.40pm.  The weather was downcast.  I could hardly see a ray from up there.  It was however cool with no signs of rains.  I was running on a new route, just formulated by looking through Google maps.  I was to run by a tarmac road from Eldoret suburbs on the Eldoret-Kipkenyo-Simat road for 10.5km, then turn back when I got to that mark.  

Simple enough, but maps and the reality on the ground are sometimes different.  The satellite imagery used on maps could be old, failing to capture new features on the ground.  I had that in mind as I did the run.  I had that map etched to memory as I translated it onto the run route practically.  It would be a generally straight run on the tarmac to 8k, then a gentle left turn for another 2.5k, then a U-turn back.

This is the first-time route that I was to run on this day.  I run, I did.  Starting slow on the built-up areas of the suburbs, before hitting that main road to turn right.  The road was a good quality new tarmac, but had very few vehicular traffic.  It was also wide with a separate pedestrian walkway far from the tarmac.  I kept to the side walkway as much as I could.  I could have run on the tarmac if I wanted to, since the road was fairly deserted, but I decided to keep to the dusty side road.

I kept running through unfamiliar territories, but I kept going.  I had the option of turning back at any time if I wished to, but I was at the same time determined to get to that 10.5k mark, before I turn back.  I would finally get to the anticipated gentle turn towards the left on the 8k mark at Kipkenyo.  

I was glad that I would in about ten minutes be turning back.  Just a little more run and I would be done.  However, I must have spoken too soon since this is exactly where ‘the rain started beating me’.  It started with a drizzle, then a heavy drizzle, then a full rain as I ran into that canopy of that shop.

The rain would drum on the roof as I waited.  The three motorbikes and their humanity would join me on the small space of the shopfront.  We would endure the thirty-minute of standing about, each of us preoccupied, saying nothing.  My gaze would jump across the road.  

I would read a signboard written near a fence on that side of the road, ‘DEB Mutwot Secondary School’.  I would wonder what would happen if the rain was to continue ‘forever’.  Would I be able to get back home by running through the rain?  I usually do not carry money during my runs.  Would I somehow get a ride back without paying up?  I was almost 11k from my finishing line!

However, the rain would stop at about two, and I would run back.  The run back seemed so hard on my system.  The route looked fairly flat, but the effort was just too much.  What is it with Eldy and the run?  Is there a reason why it is the home of champions?  Is it that the champions have ‘put something in the air’ to prevent the likes of us joining them in the club?  This was a tough run!  It however came to an end, and in good time.   A first half marathon in Eldy at 1.42.09 over a distance of 21.79km.  

I was looking at the run map on map after the run, when I saw that run elevation graph.  It had 225m of elevation, 110m of downhill and another 110m of uphill.  The uphill was on my way back.  The altitude at the home of champions turned out to be 2200m at my starting point and 2000m at my turning point.  

There was nothing ‘in the air’ preventing anyone from joining the champions.  Of course, COVID19 was still a real threat with 21,943,454 infections worldwide, with 775,228 deaths.  Kenya at ranking number 63, based on infections, had 30,365 infections with 482 deaths.  Despite this, there was surely nothing else in the air that could prevent a runner from running.

WWB, the Coach, Eldoret, Kenya, Aug. 17, 2020