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

Running without a spare wheel

Running without a spare wheel

My run ended even as the rains intensified.  I would get into the house dripping from top to bottom.  I was just in time to pop into the house as the COVID numbers were running across the screen: worldwide infections stood at 24,518,049 with 832,771 deaths.  16,986,374 had recovered.  At rank number 65 in list of countries ranked by total infections was Kenya, with the numbers being 33,389, 567 and 19,368 respectively.  I continued starring at the screen, squinting as I did this, since I do not see much without glasses.  The cold clothes were causing a shiver through my body.  The effect of that 1.24.48 duration run apparent as the tiredness set in.

I matched across the living room to the bathroom.  I would have to wash off the run.  I had intended to do a long run, but ended up doing a shorter one – five kilometers shorter.  This shorter run was forced upon me by my aching right leg.  My last run was last week Friday.  I had thought that a one-week rest would have helped my leg heal.  I was wrong.  I usually do not feel the pain on the knee when walking or seated.  It only starts when I start running and gets worse as the run time progresses.  Today was no different, despite the week’s rest.  The first run step brought the pain to the knee immediately.  I tried to gauge the run over the first five warm up minutes.  The pain persisted.

I was for a third time using the new route that I had now established at this home of champions.  I did the first one-kilometre warmup run to the road junction, where I would then turn right, then run the whole length of the road to as far as I wanted to.  I would then do a U-turn, hopefully at about 10.5km, and be back.  This expected run was however not likely to be possible today.  I was feeling the pain on the right knee with every step that I took.  I was resigned to probably running less than ten kilometers today.  And that was if I was even lucky to make it that far.  At this rate, this pain was not going to get me even to the three kilometre mark!

I kept going, ready to do a U-turn at any point.  I now did not care.  I had no hope of doing the full half marathon on this day.  I was now just running to prolong my turning point, which would be inevitable with each passing minute.  I kept going and kept getting the pain.  The pain subsided briefly at the seven kilometre mark, but it was back by the time I got to the 8k junction, where the road makes a slight left turn.  I would normally have pushed on for another ten minutes before getting to the U-turn.  Not today.  My run was already overstretched by this point.  I was doing a U-turn here… not a metre more!  I was glad to be doing this U-turn at this point.  I was finally getting back home.

I started my way back.  The very way back that gives you the perception that you are going downhill, when in reality you are going uphill.  Even the way the body feels would confirm that you are going uphill, but the eye shows a downhill!  This route is crazy.  That marvel kept me going until a raindrop fell on my right arm.  I was about 6km from the end of run.  The sky was still clear, with very few clouds.  This cannot be rain.  This one drop cannot be.  Even the sky was still clear for shouting out loud!

I had to run another five minutes before more drops became apparent on my arms.  And then the sky started darkening as the dark clouds started enveloping the blue sky.  It was going to rain.  It was just a matter of time.  I was still hopeful that the rain would come down after about an hour or two, based on how clear the sky seemed to be.  I was now four kilometres from the finish when the light showers started.  This rain would fall sooner than I thought.  I tried to increase pace, but that right knee could not be pushed faster than it was already enduring.  I just had to live with it and the reduced pace.

Three kilometres to the finish and the light showers turned into a light rain.  It was now inevitable.  I would have to run a distance of anything upto three kilometres in the rain.  The hilly terrain, which looks like downhill, was becoming harder and harder to run through.  I kept going while the rain hit from above.  It was now a full heavy rain by the time I was two kilometres from the finish.  The cold waterjets hit me from all directions. 

I had already decided that I was not going to take shelter.  I would have to run the last ten minutes through the heavy rain.  My shoes were already wet by this time.  My T-shirt and pair of shorts were dripping.  The phone was in the left pocket of the shorts.  I knew that it would still be wettened, but not as bad as being carried by hand.  I just hoped that it would not kaput, like the other phone that failed forever when I ran with it through some rain in the city.

I finally made the last left turn for the last kilometre.  The rain was heavy!  I just tore through the waters and kept going knowing that my run would be done in another five or so minutes.  It was a relief when I finally got back home dripping and ready to hit the shower.  However, those COVID numbers welcomed me back after the 16.5km run and made the rest of the day dull. 

Even the weather than turned sunny by four did not improve the feel-bad over TT.  It was not even a surprise therefore when the Government extended the COVID restrictions, including the curfew, for another thirty-days.  Corona was now our way or life for the long run.  I cannot even believe that we have already survived five-months of restrictions!  We shall without a doubt survive month number six.

WWB, the coach, Eldy, Kenya, 27-Aug-2020

Where are the runners? – ending July without company

Where are the runners? – ending July without company

Being a Friday, it should have been a day for just another Friday run, but it felt different.  I started the run at 12.45pm.  The weather was downcast, the sun was nowhere, the cold was struggling to persist in the inevitable warmth that was permeating from the hidden sunshine.  The clouds were not making things easier on this temperature situation.  The sky was enveloped in white but it was not as cold.  Maybe end of July also meant end of the cold?

I left for the run and was soon heading to Waiyaki way, hardly ten minutes after the start.  The road was a bit deserted.  What was happening on this Friday?  Even the vehicles on the roads seemed fewer than usual!  I would in a moment run across Waiyaki way and then get running on the other side of the road, for that stretch of about a kilometre, that would take me to run under the Uthiru flyover.  

This stretch of road that takes you from the point of your crossing over towards the flyover is a long straight tough section of the road.  You are running through an unending major road, with vehicles zooming from ahead, some leaving the full six lane road to push you out of the edge of the road where you are!  

You are glad when you start finally leave the highway, turn to the right and circle around the roundabout to soon turn left to face the downhill towards Ndumbo.  At this point of heading towards Ndumbo, you only need to worry about the matatus that park in the middle of the road as they beckon passengers for the ride to town.  That blockage means that vehicles from opposite directions have to struggle through one lane of the road.  It is the runner who has to suffer by running out of the road on the very rough edge, where there is no semblance of walkway – just a rugged patch of stony road shoulder.  

However, once you survive the Ndumbo stage area, then it is all smooth running towards Wangari Maathai.  Coincidentally, the road section around Ndumbo was not busy on this Friday.  I even enjoyed my run on the edge of the tarmac until I was through with that stage section – something that is hardly possible with the matatus have parked on the road.  What was happening today?  Where are the people?  Where are the vehicles?

There was hardly a vehicle or a person by the time I was heading towards Wangari Maathai Institute.  I would however encounter a group of people, some in yellow jackets, slashing the edges of the road, just before the Institute’s gate.  That group was probably all of humanity on this road.  I would later encounter one person washing a motor vehicle near the river, with potted plants lining the left edge of the road, the edge where I was running on.  I have progressively seen these pots grow from none, hardly three months ago, to now about ten of them.

I overtake the potted plants and soon get to the river and start the uphill run to Lower Kabete road.  I meet no one.  However, one or two vehicles pass by on either directions.  I reach Lower Kabete road and the two motorbikes are parked on the pedestrian walkway at the junction of the road, as usual.  I overtake them and turn left to run about three minutes uphill on Lower Kabete road.  Even this major road that connects Wangige to Westlands and town centre has very few vehicles to count.  Usually there would be at least one every half minute.

I eventually make the left turn to the dry weather road that would take me towards Mary Leakey school, then the University farm some kilometre away from there.  This road section is also deserted.  I hardly meet a person.  I would soon face the University farm that would for sure be lonely for the kilometre run-through.  It is for sure deserted, as expected.  I meet no one through that five-minute run.  

I am tempted to ask the ‘where are the people’ question while on the farm, only to remember that this section usually has no people any day, anyway… usually only the runner, and occasionally, such as on Monday, some farm workers tending to the plants.  On that day I had tried to decipher what plants they were tending, but my running motion could not register the green sprouts on the vast land.  Could it be coffee?  Could it be tea!  It was not maize for sure!

I am back to reality as I now run to the tank.  I for sure have to go for the half marathon route on this occasion, but who knows, I may just surprise myself by giving it an end-of-month twist and adding ‘something’ to it.  However, I am not sure yet.  I first have to get to the U-turn before I decide on how much more I can add to the usual run-back distance.  The weather is still downcast.  A gentle wind swishes by my running frame as I keep running on Kapenguria road.  I shall be running for about fifteen-minutes before I get to the U-turn point.  This section of the road towards the U is generally flat, though a bit hilly after the cross road at Kanyariri AIC church.

I keep going.  I am now just looking forward to that U-turn.  My mind is blanked, but I still notice that there are very few people on the road, even on that cross road shopping centre, which would normally be bustling with activities and the notorious loud motorcycles.  I soon get to the U-turn and I am glad to be heading back onto the return leg towards the finish.  But there is no need to get all excited and all.  The finish line is still very far.  As far as one hour or more, depending on run speed and final route chosen to the finish point.

I am now running back and heading home.  I get to the tank after about fifteen minutes after the U.  I have the option of continuing down the road, then up towards Ndumbo – the usual straight road towards the finish… or turning left at the tank and doing the same same route that brought me here.  The left turn means an extra 4km on my bill.  It is however too late to make sense of my decision, since I find myself taking the left turn back to the University farm.  

I shall soon face that eerie silence and nothingness for over a kilometre through the farm.  I do not even think about it as I traverse the farm in complete solitude.  I just keep running.  Going back to Mary Leakey school, then Lower Kabete road, then the right turn back to Kapenguria road.  All these while I can hardly see humanity.  Where are the people?

I now have to run from ‘the tarmac’ back to my starting point at Uthiru.  These are about six kilometres of pure painful run, coming at a time when I have been on the road for over one-hour-thirty-minutes.  I however have no choice since I have to get to the finish line one way or the other.  Runs are not just finished in the middle of nowhere at a whim.  After all, there are no people, or even motorbikes passing by.  How else would I get to the finish line even if I decided not to continue with the painful last thirty minutes?  I just have to keep going!

And that if what I do, first to the river, then to that dreaded 1.5km of uphill from the river, past Wangari Maathai institute, back to Ndumbo.  That dreaded hill!  I shake my head in dread, just as I still meet the same group of people who were doing the slashing of the roadsides just past Wangari, on the final hill stretch.  One of the people slashing comments loudly that the sun is too hot, which would mean that it shall be raining soon.  His colleagues shout their affirmation.  That brings me back to my senses.  It is surely shining.  When did the shine begin?  I cannot recall!  It was cold and cloudy the last time I checked.

I am now only three kilometres from the finish line when I am get back to Waiyaki way.  I am too tired to notice anything, though there is nothing much to notice with all this desertion.  However, I can see the traffic police, for the first time since the initial lockdown in March, with a roadblock just next to the Kabete Police station.  I see vehicles from town forced to stop and the men and women in luminous yellow jackets approach and speak to the drivers.  These activities are unfolding on the other side of the dual carriage way.  I ignore them and keep going to enable me cross the wide road and start my home stretch.

I finish the run in 2hr 13min 35sec.  I am completely finished!  I collapse on my desk as the phone app beeps with a message ‘Congratulations – 26.84km is the longest distance this month’.  I do not even care.  I do not even want to be congratulated.  I am finished completely!  I even fell like drifting off into slumber, though I am still all sweaty and the environment feels so heated.  I need to hit that shower if I am to feel any better.  

I am just about to take a painful step from the seat, when the announcement from the online stream that I keep on comes out loud and clear, that the world has reached yet another milestone in COVID-19 cases.  So I pay attention to the numbers - 17,630,927 infections on planet earth with 679,655 deaths!  That 17M level got me into searching the data for Kenya.  And soon I would scroll through the list on worldometers to see the motherland listed at number 64 with 20,636 confirmed cases and 341 deaths.  

I am resigned to a ‘what shall be shall be’ state of mind, when I soon hear a ‘cautiously optimistic’ sound-byte from a US top infectious disease expert that there shall be a vaccine by end of year.  The very prediction that I had given TT a few articles ago.  I was now heading to the showers with the mindset that humanity shall wrestle TT to the ground by end-year when it dawned on me that this Friday was Id-ul-Azha holiday – it was not a work day!

WWB, The Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, July 31, 2020

Seeing double, before seeing clearly

Seeing double, before seeing clearly

Was that 15million that I saw?  I would have to recheck, but later.  The time was now just about 12.30pm.  I had already seen the text from Edu booking me for yet another mid-week run in as many weeks.  It was to be my run day anyway.  I would just have to shed-off the ‘runner’ tag and assume the ‘trainer’ one.  Still good with me.  Wednesday is a run day and a run is a run – whether running or training.

I would join Edu at the generator at about 12.40pm.  His patient had already been overstretched for a second time in as many weeks.  I met him already off for the run, while I headed to the generator for the start.  He had to make a U-turn so that we could start the run a second time together.

The weather was good.  As good as no sun and equally not cold.  I led the way as we headed for Waiyaki way via Kabete Poly.  We just kept running on the usual route that would keep us on Kapenguria road, to get past Wangari Maathai Institute, then the river, then the tarmac, then Mary Leakey, then University farm, then the tank.  It is at the tank where we would decide whether to turn back by a left-turn back to Ndumbo or we would add some kilometres by turning right, then coming back to this very tank on our way back.

However, we did not get to the tank together.  It was just after Mary Leakey school, having walked a few times already, that Edu confessed to his persistent muscle pull on the right leg.

“Just keep going,” he motioned me past, “I shall make my turn at the 10k point.”

So, I kept going, leaving him behind, worried to the core as to whether he would make it to the tank, let alone add a few more kilometres to the 10k point.  We were just past the 6k mark at this point.  I was imagining another 4k of painful steps on his part, then yet another last six back to the starting line.  That was lots of hours of muscle aches, though the pain was likely to subside with time – likely, but not guaranteed.

I would turn right at the tank, then run all the way past Kanyariri market, to my new ‘usual’ turning point.  I then started my way back, where I eventually met Edu also on his way back, just past the ‘10k turnback’.  He must have done more than the 10k turnback for me to have met him where I did.  We did run together to the Ndumbo river, then I went ahead on the hill, before waiting for him at the Ndumbo market.

From the market he gave me the go ahead to finish the run, as he was sure to make it back.  There were now only three kilometres separating us from the gate of the finish line.  Those last few kilometres were smooth as I headed to the finish line.

Another run was done – just another Wednesday, with another mid-week run, with another half marathon.  I would soon be back to that 15M.  It was a true figure.  COVID-19 infections on planet earth were now standing at 15M – technically, 15,223,912 with 622,536 deaths.  A scroll down on the listing of countries on the worldometer webpage would show Kenya at number 66, ranked by infections, with 14,805 infections and 260 deaths.  

However, I would stumble on the figures of our neighbours further down the list.  Uganda had 1,075 infections and zero deaths.  You read right, zero deaths.  The stats for this does not look right, comparing what is shown for other countries, comparing infections versus fatalities.  Nonetheless, the data says what the data says, and you have to believe something, don’t you?  

And… and TZ, who stopped doing anything about TT, including participating in the submission of the data to WHO, still had some numbers.  Though they have since allowed everybody to do what they want and to continue living their lives, their numbers remain those that were published more than one month ago, being 509 infections and 21 deaths.  

Good news though!  All these figures would soon mean nothing, as development of vaccine and treatments are now on high gear and just within this year - yes, within 2020, we shall have a proven therapy for TT.  Therefore Corona can enjoy the limelight with big numbers for now.  That streak shall came to a screeching halt in a maximum of five months.

“TT, take that statement and bank it somewhere safe.”

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, July 22, 2020

Running in a group… for the first time since TT

Running in a group… for the first time since TT

It is a Wednesday.  It is a run day.  I am however having a pain on the back of the knee.  I feel pain every time the fulcrum of the knee bends to make a step.  The pain only manifests when I am moving.  While stationery – standing or seating – there is no pain at all.  It is that attempt to step with my right leg that brings forth all the pain.

The pain started yesterday morning – just out of the blues.  I woke up and the pain started upon making the first step from bed.  Despite my long run of Monday, I did not experience any pains on my legs after the run.  If anything, it is the left foot that has been my bother for the last month.  The right wheel has been in perfect condition for long.  So why would I have a pain from nowhere on a Tuesday?

The last time there was semblance of discomfort on that right wheel was during the Norwegian Stavanger marathon at the city of Stavanger, when that pain kicked in on the 32km mark and persisted for about two kilometres.  I was so scared for failing to finish my maiden marathon in the artic.  The pain would however be gone on the 34k, and I ended up finishing the run.  That was last year August, end of August.  

The same pain had plagued my first Kilimanjaro marathon last year March, just on the same 32k, when I was through with the 10km of hill that runs from 21k to 31k, when one makes a left turn to start the next 10k of downhill.  It is at that turn that the pain started.  I could hardly run when I got to the water station at 32k.  

And… and believe it or not, the medics at that medical station did not have anything to help soothe the pain.  They were handing over tumblers of glucose-laced water as their only medication!  How was that supposed to ease the pain on my leg for crying out loud!?  

I was facing another may-not-finish-the-first-Kili moment in that run, when my slow run for about 1k paid off when the paid once more just disappeared and I was able to run the last 10k to the finish.  (Find out what ‘DNF’ means.  It is the most hated and dreaded word in the world of marathons).  

But in 2020, nothing!  All has been good, including during the Kili-2020 and the FLHM-2020.  That right kick has been perfect for over ten months.  It was therefore a cause of worry, that it would just start to ache, on its own, even without being subjected to the 32k-mark.

My instinct was to skip the Wednesday run to heal-off the right leg.  This pain on the region of the biceps femoris tendon was not giving me any peace whenever I tried walking.  However, application of ointment on Tuesday night soothed the pain almost immediately.  

I even went ahead and confirmed with Edu, by a late-night call, returning his missed-call for that matter, that I would be taking him out to ‘re-learn’ the routes.  He claimed to have ‘rusted’ a lot, since our last such group run must have been last year, during the November international.  I knew that it must have been way before, probably the July-2019 international, but I kept that intelligence to myself.

I should have obeyed my Tuesday instinct and cancelled the Wednesday run altogether, since I woke up Wednesday with that pain now back and…. it was back with a bang!  I was now walking with a slight limp, worse than Tuesday when I was still walking straight.

“I am calling off the run,” I told myself as I struggled to walk steadily towards the workplace, where we were to start the run.

I got to the office and applied some balm on the tendon region and tried stretching and folding that knee joint.  I pained like hell!

“I am calling off the run,” I repeated to myself, even as the time to start the run was nearing.

I would in a moment get a confirmation SMS from Edu, “We meet at the generator at 12.30. I have gone to change and then heading there.”

“I am calling off the run, not!”

I warmed up and was soon at the generator.  I could feel the pain but it was not intense – that balm!  The pain was now hidden deep in the leg, near the bone.  I could bend the knee alright, but not the sprinting-type of bend.  I was on a marathon on this day, and so the sprint kicks were not available for use – good for me.

I got to the generator around 12.35pm, only to meet Edu running towards my approach.  He must have given up on the 12.30pm appointment.  He believes on these gadgets!  When it says 12.30pm is the start time, then it is the start time.  He ran back to join me at the starting point at the generator.  We would momentarily start off the run at about 12.37pm.

“It is your run, how do you want to have it done?,” I confirmed with him, just as we started the run.

“I just want to be back to speed,” he responded, “So, pull me along, but not so fast.”

“Your wish!,” I said then added, “This is my first run in a group since March.  I long for those monthly international marathons.”

“You can forget group runs.  This is the nearest you shall get to a group,” Edu reminded me.

“The corona thing?  There shall be a vaccine soon.”

I started leading the way as we faced the now default route, from Uthiru towards Kabete Poly, crossing Waiyaki way to run the other side all the way to under the Uthiru flyover, then run on the big roundabout to then turn left towards Ndumbo stage.  From there it would just be the Kapenguria road to Lower Kabete road, then we would take the Mary Leakey route, through the University farm to ‘the tank’.  We would then decide on what to do with the rest of the run once we got to the tank.

The weather was good for a run.  Just perfect.  No sunshine.  A bit cold, but the warmer side or cold.  We went through the run as planned.  At the left diversion from Lower Kabete road towards Mary Leakey we faced the road that is now being graded.  I had earlier noticed action on this road when on my last Wednesday’s run.  

My observation this day was that the grader must have re-dug the road, judging from the fresh mounds of earth overlaying the once roughing road.  Additionally, the machine must have done much more digging than last week, since the road was now dug all the way to the University farm.

“I hope they are not preparing to close this road also,” Edu commented, as we reached the Uni farm to run the gentle uphill towards ‘the tank’.

“If we survived the closure of the loop… then we can manage any strange surprises being planned… we just have to wait and see,” was my response.

We finally reached ‘the tank’, at about the 9.5km mark.  We now had two options, either to turn left on Kanyariri road back to Ndumbo and back to the starting line to finish the run, or turn right and continue on Kanyariri road towards Gitaru.

“Running back is 5k, any runs on the right side means whatever-kilometres-plus-five,” I gave a quick decision-point consideration to Edu.  We had by now run for about one hour.

“We are turning right.  We have to do whatever-plus-five,” he affirmed as he led the way to the right turn of the tarmac.

We kept going.  He was to confirm the turning point.  I had earlier on joked about this ‘turning point’ issue with Karl, who was also on today’s run but on a different route and distance.  We had of course eventually met at the ‘river’ just after Wangari Maathai, as he was running back, while we were about to face the uphill towards Lower Kabete road.  While we compared notes on the day’s runs earlier on, he had told me that he was just going for a ‘ka-run ka-dogo’ to the river.  

I had told me at that time that I am tagging along Edu, who would be my ‘mwanafunzi’ for the day.  I had told him that Edu is controlled by gadgets.  While I would run and make a turn at any point and finish my run at a finishing point, Edu would only make a turn or a finish when the gadget says so.  

And…. it just happened, as I was starting to remember that conversation with Karl earlier on…..

“Coach,” Edu drew my attention, as we were now on the uphill after the junction next to ACK Kanyariri church.  I was about five metres ahead.

“Stop!  It is now twelve point three.”

And just like that we stopped!  We were just stopping in the middle of the road, ready to make a turn.  I would usually have turned back at the junction that we had just passed, some two-hundred metres back, or would have proceeded and made a turn at the market ahead.  I rely on some landmark or pre-planned points to mark my turning points.  But… not Edu!

So when the wrist watch that he had instructed us to turn back… we turned back at that exact point that the gadget dictates.  We made the U-turn and started our run back.  The run back was quite enjoyable.  The downhill kept us pulled towards our finish line.  However, it was not all gravity, we still had that infamous uphill from the river towards Ndumbo market.  Conquer that one kilometre, and the run is as good as done.  You are just twenty-minutes from the finish – just twenty minutes of smooth flat run.

We kept running, walking at times, depending on how intense the run was.  It was an easy run all through though, averaging 6min 30sec per kilometre.  It was a welcome relief from the under-fives that have dominated my runs since March.  I felt much better during this run, from the lack of pressure to beat any timings.  The first time that I was under no-pressure in many months.

We finished the run after about 2hr 6min for the 19km, though I added something to the distance and time by my prior run to the generator before the start, and my final run to my hood after the run.  Another half marathon had just been conquered, under the tutelage of my mwanafunzi.  Impressive student I have here!

The painful right biceps femoris tendon was all but forgotten by the time the run was finished.  I was still basking in the feel-good from the day’s run.  The first group run since the First Lady’s Beyond Zero marathon of March 8.

I was soon seated by the computer screen when the inevitable TT numbers were splashed onto my face.  13,612,182 infections worldwide with 584,163 deaths.  Good news is that the mortality rate had remained 4% for the last three months, but half a million dead is not something that you want to even mention.  Kenya's share of the stats was 11,252 confirmed cases, with 209 deaths.  

But for the first time there was also good news.  A new candidate vaccine had shown promise as being ready for mass testing after passing through the first two phases of trials.  The Moderna mRNA-1273 promises to be the vaccine to watch.  However, there are over 60 candidate vaccines* at various stages of trials.  The forerunners are Moderna, Novavax, Sinovac, Inovio, Sinopharm, AstraZeneca, CanSino, Cadila, BioNTech and Bharat.   

Finally!  TT is going to be defeated, and soon.  It is now just a matter of time, before we go back to ‘real’ group runs.  I kept thinking of the upcoming triumph… even as I started experiencing that pain on my right leg… many hours after the group run.

(*https://covidvax.news/progress/)

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, July 15, 2020

Unlocking the locked runner… really?

Unlocking the locked runner… really?

Mondays are run days.  I therefore had no choice but to be ready for this run over the lunch hour.  I was quite rested after 2-days of no runs.  I was ready for this run – just another Monday run.  This run also coincided with the staggering numbers of COVID19 infections – 11,630,803 with 538,177 deaths worldwide with the motherland having 8,067 cases with 164 deaths, as per worldometers stats. 

I was also aware that Kenya would be making an announcement on what next, following the expiry of the three-month lockdown from leaving the city and dusk-to-dawn curfew.  We were to know whether we would face a fourth month locked in or we would finally be let free.  I was not holding my breath on this.  If anything, I was expecting an extension of the lockdown and curfew, based on the rising number of infections locally and internationally.

I started the run at 12.55pm.  The weather was good, meaning no sunshine and not cold either.  The cloud cover formed a big umbrella shielding us from the sun even as I started the run.  I was relaxed and well rested as I did this run.  It was a good feeling.  My mind was generally blank.  I was repeating the Friday route, which was now well etched into my memory.  I could even close my eyes and run this half marathon and navigate through the whole circuit.

I was soon at Ndumbo stage, passing by as I heard the various radios from motorbikes, kiosks, parked vehicles, moving vehicles and all…. “Fellow Kenyans….”
I could not hear the rest since I was already past all these collection of radios in a moment and was now running down towards Wangari Maathai institute, then towards the river, ready for the uphill towards KAGRI.

As I passed KAGRI towards the Lower Kabete tarmac, I got to the collection of three or so motorbikes parked at the road junction.  Two people were seated on a bench, just next to the bikes besides the road.  They were playing draughts, with the radios on…. “… this pandemic…” is all I heard as I passed by and turned left ready for the uphill towards the Mary Leakey turnoff.  

It is at this very junction while turning left that some minute insect got into my left nostril – just like that!  Out of nowhere! 
“Atchoooo!”
Nothing doing. 
The nostril remained itchy, but I kept going towards the Mary Leakey turnoff about two minutes away.

At the turnoff, I got those vehicles that have now been turned into market stalls, with all manner of groceries and fruits on display and sale, within and on top of the vehicles.  Their radios were on, with the few people around the vehicles – buyers and sellers – continuing their chat.  I am not even sure if they were listening, but the sound was loud enough… “… gender-based…” I heard as I passed them on that left turn.

I was now going towards Mary Leakey school and soon towards the river on the dry weather road.  It was a bit deserted, save for one bike that passed me by, going same direction.  Its radio was on... “… fellow Kenyans…” the bike was already gone way ahead, and I could not get anymore of the sound.

Soon I was taking the right turn that gets you ready to face the university farm.  It would take about ten minutes to run through this trail to emerge at the Kanyariri tarmac road.  This section of the road would usually not have anyone – and it did not disappoint on this day – there was no one through the almost ten-minute run.  There was no radio sound at all on this footpath… in fact no sound at all.  It was quite quiet!
Many “Atchoooos!” later and that nitwit finally got out of my nostril just in time to enable me breath freely enough in preparation to hit the tarmac at ‘the tank’.

I turned right at the tank, to join the Kanyariri tarmac where I would run for about fifteen minutes, before making a U-turn.  At this ‘the tank’ turnoff, I saw one motorbike parked just besides the road on the newly constructed shed.  The radio was on, “… wakenya wenzangu…”

I was already too gone to hear any more, as I faced this road that is usually generally deserted.  You encounter very few vehicles.  None of the vehicles that pass by had their radios on, hence I did not get much more news on this day when we expected the ‘big’ announcement on what happens next after 3-months of lockdown.

There were no more radio announcements by the time I got to Kanyariri shopping centre.  If anything, I just heard some music coming out of the various radio items that adorned that part of the geography – be it from inside shops, from the passing motorbikes or from the walkers.  Either these people did not give-a-dee about the announcement, or the announcement was over. 

I would not get to know the final decision of announcement while on the run, not with these two-word sounds that I was getting over time.  I was soon doing the U-turn and started my run back on Kanyariri road tarmac, enjoying the downhill all the way to Ndumbo river, then a short uphill to Ndumbo centre, then to Waiyaki way and finally, crossing the Waiyaki at Kabete Poly ready for the home run.

I had to run some errands immediately after the lunch-hour run, hence did not have any time to check on what the verdict of the powers were, on whether we would be having a fourth month confined in the city or not.  It would soon be evening, and the local news was quite clear on what had happened – lockdown is off, curfew is still on, with effect from July 7.  I did not have a reaction.  I did not know how to react.  After over 90-days of restricted movement, I was not sure of what this new status would mean.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, July 6, 2020

When U-turn means you-turn

When U-turn means you-turn

Today is a Saturday, a rest day in my world of marathon.  I could not help but notice the COVID19 figures as the first thing that popped out of the webpages when I opened up the internet – 11,204,889 people infected worldwide with 529,380 deaths.  The motherland had the figures as 7,188 and 154 as the respective figures.  This TT thing was now on a loose leash.  It had gone rogue.  

Attempts to tame TT had so far provided futile.  However, very promising drugs and vaccines were already in the works.  It shall be just a matter of time before the untamable is tamed.  I am confident that we shall be celebrating Christmas in conquest.  But that means five other months of total hardship, including lockdowns, restrictions, curfews, facemasks, social-distancing, handwashing, no meetings of more than ten, no group events such as marathons, and all other manner of inconveniences – for another five months!

I am not waiting five months for life to get back to the trajectory of pre-March.  I am continuing with life now… today… daily.  If I want to go for a run, then that is what I shall do.  If I feel like taking a break, then that is exactly what I shall do.  How about running a half a marathon over the lunch hour?  If that is what comes to me, then that is what I shall do.  In other words, I am living life to the fullest, one day at a time… and that one day is today!  The alternative would be to stop living and hideaway somewhere in total fear of TT.  I a’int taking that alternative – not me!

I could even take a run today, despite it being a rest day.  This is the new mantra – doing what I want, when I want.  I am glad that I have been true to the three-runs-a-week schedule for the longest of time, in fact, since the lockdown and curfew was declared in mid-March.  These runs are done Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.  They keep me going.  They keep me sane, from the otherwise stressed and locked-down world.  

I was on the road yesterday, Friday, for another routine run.  It went well.  There was nothing noteworthy.  However, I managed to do my U-turn in the middle of the tarmac, just in time to ensure that I did a manageable run at the lunch hour.  A lesson that I had learnt on Wednesday.

Two days prior was a Wednesday.  A day for yet another run.  This is the run whose details I would like to share today.  I was a bit lethargic on that day.  I am not sure what is happening to me.  The tiredness had progressively been manifesting in the last two weeks.  I probably need a rest from the shock of hitting my feet continually on mostly the tarmac, for over 90-minutes.  I however had to obey the Wednesday call-for-run and hence just got out and went for the run, starting at 12.45pm.

The weather was cool on this Wednesday.  It was overcast, and there was possibility of rain within the afternoon.  This is a good weather for any runner over a long distance.  It was good for me, as I felt the cooling effect of the cool air over my skin as I ran through it.  It was a ‘cool’ run.  I could still feel the pain on the legs and the resistance from pushing forward, but I kept forcing myself forward and would soon be crossing Waiyaki way to run on the other edge of the road all the way to the Uthiru flyover, where I would run underneath, turn right around the big roundabout, then turn left towards Ndumbo – the usual ‘new route’, after the blocking of the Vet ‘wall’ and ‘gating’ of the loop.

My run started feeling normal after I had passed by Ndumbo, and was now facing the downhill towards Wangari Maathai institute and the river.  The lethargy was all but gone.  The tiredness was no longer an issue.  I was now in the mood of the run.  I could do it.  I was doing it.  I would eventually join Lower Kabete road and turn left for the three-minutes uphill run, then the left turn to Mary Leakey route.  The left turn brings with it the rough dry weather road that shall persist until the University farm to emerge at ‘the tank’.  Normally, I would have to run back on this route on my way back.  This very route where that young blood decided to interrupt my run and ask me the many questions on Monday, earlier in the week.  

I was still running, generally absorbing the beauty of the greenery and almost eerie silence, then the spur of the moment thought came to me that I probably should not get back through this route on my way back.  Maybe I should just run down to Ndumbo using the direct tarmac.  I kept running while thinking of this alternative spur-of-the-moment route.  I was now already at the tank, and was turning right to join the Kanyariri tarmac.  On Monday I had run to the crossroad, about two kilometres ahead, then turned back, and had to run through the University farm once more on my way back.  I wanted to avoid running back through the farm on this Wednesday.  But avoiding that farm route meant losing 4km distance, since the direct route from tank to Ndumbo was just about two kilometres, while the loop back through the farm was about 6km.

I kept running towards Kanyariri, still calculating how to recover these 4km if I was surely avoiding the farm.  Compensating that distance would mean running way past the crossroad.  How much way past, I could not yet figure out.  My guess was that a run all the way to Gitaru market would be about the 2k and the way back would give me another 2k – mission accomplished.  I could as well just choose any point on the run and do a U-turn, provided it was a reasonable-enough based on time taken to reach that point.  These were just calculations going on in my mind.  In normal preparation, I would usually measure up a route on Google maps, but this time I was doing it on the run.  I just had to rely on instinct and gut to decide my run distance on this Wednesday.

I finally settled on Gitaru market as the turning point.  I continued running and soon started tackling the Gitaru uphill that goes for about a kilometre.  The plan was to then circle around the market on the way back.  Sharp U-turns are not good for the run.  Gentle turning-back routes, such as cycling something like a market, are preferable.  That is why I thought of going round the market, instead of just doing a U-turn in the middle of the tarmac.  

I have also noticed that observers and passers-by judge runners harshly when they see them doing U-turns ‘out of nowhere’.  They tend to think that you are ‘lost’ or were even ‘upto something’ (bad) leading to the abrupt, out of nowhere turnback.  That is the reason why I tend to get a gentle turn back through some route that keeps going but still gets you back.  Going round the market would achieve this.

I was just about to turn right to circle the market, just under the railway flyover at Gitaru when I noticed that a vehicle had obstructed the entry to that footpath around the market.  I could still easily find a way past, but I observed that the rest of the road seemed to filled-up by market people.  It seemed that I would have trouble going through and round using that route.  It was now the moment of truth.  I had to do that dreaded U-turn in the middle of the tarmac and start going back.

It did not happen!  

My body refused to give those merchandize-people-all-along-the-both-sides-of-the-road the comfort of noticing my being ‘lost’ as I turned back.  I instead kept going.  I was now heading to unplanned territory.  I would have to do the ‘international marathon’ route.  The one that takes you towards Nakuru highway to the Kikuyu junction on the by-pass, then gets you round the outer circle of the Gitaru market, to emerge round the same Gitaru market as you joint Kanyariri road, ready for the way back.  That was unplanned and unfortunately was now on the works following the failure to do my U-turn twice before.

It is long since I was on this section of the road.  The last time I was here was probably in March.  However, nothing much had changed.  The matatu stage at Gitaru highway was still as busy as usual.  The road interchange for Nakuru highway-Wangige road at Gitaru was still under construction, with vehicles from the Nakuru highway still being forced to get through Gitaru shopping centre before rejoining Waiyaki way.  Upon joining Wangige road, I still noticed that the roadworks on this road were still ongoing, without much change.  Three months later and nothing seemed to have been done!  Wow!, roadworks can be slow!

I was now already deep into a lunch hour run, on a distance that I had not planned for.  I really wished that I would lay my hands on some water, which I had not carried since such a long run was not on the initial plans for the days.  I was as thirsty as a rock.  I would soon be dehydrated, but the weather helped by remaining cool.  I eventually rejoined Kanyariri road to start my run back.  This section of the road is generally downhill all the way to Ndumbo river.  You just let go and you find yourself at the river thirty-minutes later.  

After the downhill, I finally started on the last uphill from the river to Ndumbo market.  The section did not bring forth anything to distract my run.  The run was now just about done.  I had only three more kilometres from under the flyover, through Waiyaki way, then crossing at Kabete Poly to the finish.  The weather remained great as I kicked off those last steps to the finish line, stopping my timer at the 28.63km mark after 2hr 17min 11sec.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, July 4, 2020

When 21 has many meanings

When 21 has many meanings

There are two reasons why I did run today, Monday, June 29, 2020 – it was a Monday, and it was also the last run of the month.  My other ‘natural’ run should be on Wednesday.  It shall be July by then.  Had it not been for those two reasons, then it is very likely that I would not have braved the mid-day sun.  Corona was not making things easier either.  We now had 10,329,269 infections worldwide with, 505,991 fatalities.  Kenyan had 6,190 confirmed cases and 298 deaths.  

But let me tell why this Corona-thing was not making things easier – the virus is becoming more prevalent ‘in the air’, hence the chances of getting it is increasing with each passing day.  Secondly, increase in infections means that the chances of the Kenyan curfew and lockdown being extended is increasing as we approach the end date of the current lockdown.  The end is meant to be July 7 – just nine days from today – but I am starting to see a ‘new end’.

Worrying about TT does not help, though the numbers are always splashed on our faces on every media, every sms, every webpage, every Whatsapp, every Friday staff meeting, every news story, every text on the bottom of every TV screen… text on top of some TV screens – everywhere I tell you!

Still, worrying about TT does not help, and so I did leave for my forced Monday lunch-hour run.  I would have done with a rest today.  I have been on the road three times a week since Monday, June 1.  I have already crushed the road twenty times this month alone!  I was not feeling quite ready for the run number 13 of June.  But the magic of finishing the month on a run was just too tempting.  The magic of 13 runs of 21k each, was just too tempting.

The sun was already blazing overhead as I left for the run at 12.45pm.  Karl had just beaten me to the starting line, since he left me at the locker room changing to my run gear.  He had already declared his intention to do a ‘kambio kadogo tu mpaka tarmac’.  That ‘kadogo’ mbio was something in the range of 10k.  Crazy marathoners!  

My other marathoner colleague, Mark, also of team Eng-thoners, was also dressing up for the lunch hour run.  The two of us have remained true to the tradition of three runs a week, despite TT.  I however do not see the route that he runs on.  Somehow, our paths do not cross, though we tend to finish our respective runs around the same time.  I suspect that he does the Naivasha road route to Equity and back.

I was off for the run at 12.45pm.  I was full of lethargy despite the two days of rest.  This was surely supposed to be a day of rest, if listening to the body was anything that determines a run.  This determination was however not being left to the body – the body was already weak.  I had to draw the strength from some other metaphysics.

I left for the run at quarter to one.  It was hot.  I was tired ab-initio.  But nothing was stopping my streak number 21 of the half marathon runs.  I started off the run and just let go.  I pressed on and kept going.  I had already gotten used to running without the loop.  Bad things happen, but life continues.  

The closure of the loop was bad, but run life continued onto the alternative route already determined by exploration and experimentation.  This was basically the Mary Leakey route through University farm, then some run (for the distance) on Kanyariri road to the crossroad near ACK church and back through the same route.

I was just heading to my 7km mark after the river, past Wangari Maathai, just next to KAGRI when I met Gordon.  I had not known that this Eng-thoner would be on the road.  I am used to two runners, three was a good surprise for today but four runners on the same day was just impossible!  

We exchanged our greetings as I now headed to Lower Kabete road to turn left for the run that would take me to the other left diversion towards Mary Leakey school.  It was on this uphill that I would meet Karl.  That ‘ka-tarmac’ thing had actually turned into ‘ka-Mary Leakey’, with additional distance.  We did our on-the-air ‘Hi Fives’ and continued our opposite ways – uphill in my case, downhill for him.

It took about ten minutes to get to the University farm.  I was passing by the narrow footpath, when I heard a greeting.  I was not expecting it.  I imagined seeing some boy on the roadside to my right a few steps back.

“Sasa!”

“Jambo!,” I said.  I was now about five steps ahead.

“Unakimbia mpaka wapi?”

What was this?  21 questions on my number 13 run over a 21k distance?  Running on the feet is difficult as it is.  Thinking and processing questions on the run is just a no-go-zone!

“Leave me alone!,” that was what my mind told me say.

“Kanyariri soko,” that is what I said instead.  

I was now almost ten steps away as I answered.

I am not even sure if he heard this.

I was soon in the heart of the University farm, where I had to traverse about one kilometre of solitude and almost eerie quietness.  I like the quietness, and it is also at this section that I have ‘seen things’ in my running life!  For starters, the worst muddy section of the whole route exists along this stretch.  It was not a bother today because it had not rained for over five days.  That ten metre section was likely dry and surely it was dry when I finally passed by.  

During my Friday run, just three days ago, I observed upon my approach, some two motorbikes parked on the right on the small footpath, as I headed towards the tank.  This was a first one.  I have met motorbikes in motion, but never found parked ones.  

I kept going only to pass by the two bikes and also was just in time to see some two guys, on the opposite side of the road, almost enveloped by the thicket, partaking something that emitted dark smoke and odor that permeated all the way to my running path.  That smoke was nothing but trouble.  That smoke smelt ‘grassy’.  It was surely grass!  I was imagining what their ‘grassy’ mind would direct them to do – for example accost a marathoner?  And demand for his phone?

On another occasion, I believe this must have been the Monday run of two weeks ago, almost at this very spot of the University farm, I approached while observing a white car parked in the middle of this very footpath.  How that car was even fitting on the narrow footpath was just amazing.  I could see it from one hundred metres of my approach, since the path is generally straight with a longer visibility range.  

I was however getting worried with every step as I neared the car.  I have never seen a car parked on this section of the path.  Occasionally, a car would struggle to squeeze through the footpath on either direction – very occasional – I only remember once seeing a vehicle traverse this route this year.

I was now about ten metres to the parked car.  All instincts were at high gear.  The ‘fight or flight’ debate was gearing more towards ‘turnback and flight’.  My speed was even reducing, despite it being already reduced by the uphill terrain.  I was not five metres, at a point where I could now see and get all details of the car.  

I would eventually have the courage to squeeze myself out of the path to bypass that car as I did not decipher any eminent danger.  I got past just in time to see two feet almost hitting the windscreen as they sprawled over the dashboard.  That was the lower body.  There was an ‘upper’ body.  The slight shaky movements of the car left nothing more to the imagination.  The tinted windows did not help the imagination linger from the truth!

Coincidentally, it is this same section of the University farm, but to my right, where I saw that person who was pacing about somewhere in the thicket not so longer ago – the one who was definitely seeking the divine.  Unfortunately, his thicket was now ploughed over and he would now only be able to seek divinity on the now untouched left side thicket – the very left side where those grass-smoking duo were partially hidden last Friday.

So again, I ask, Is there anything that I have not seen on this particular stretch of the route?  This University of Nairobi farm route?  The only thing that I would not be surprised to see is the closure of this route someday.  If anything, there was already a sign to the effect that it was ‘Private property – do not trespass’.  This used to be affixed somewhere near the tank.  

I do not see this sign anymore.  But, since when did a ‘public’ university become ‘private’ property?  Are we not all stakeholders of this university?  What danger does crossing through the farm pose to anything?  However, the closure of ‘the loop’ has opened my mind to the possibility of the impossible – I shall in the meantime keep enjoying my runs through the Uni farm while it lasts.

Those memories of the Uni farm came flooding through my system, even as I kept wondering at the determination of that young blood to know where I was running to.  Was he just curious?  Was he just making conversation?  Did he really care about my run?  I kept wondering even as I did my U-turn at Kanyariri crossroad next to the ACK church for my run back through the same route.  The sun remained hot.  If anything, its temperature was turned up a notch as I did my return leg run.

The good news about a return leg is the ‘feel good’ that you get as you start going back to the finish line.  That is the feeling that kept me going until I was just getting through the university farm, when I was once more interrupted with a sound.

“Mambo?”

Oh, leave me alone already!  

I was already struggling through sixteen kilometres on a hot blaze.  It could have been a bad coincidence, but the same young man, with his unmistakable voice was there.  Could it mean that he just waited all this while?  Having learnt earlier through my response that I was running to Kanyariri and back?  That is the definition of hope and patience!

“Mambo sawa,” I find myself saying, after being interrupted from my preoccupied mind.  Preoccupied by the thought of how I shall survive that Wangari Maathai uphill run.  The very hill that I finally do on my way to the finish line, bringing home this run number 13 in the month of 21s. 

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, June 29, 2020