Marking Stanchart ‘2-0’ with a ‘2-Ouch’ run
I had no doubt that I would finish the grueling 42km run at the Stanchart Nairobi International Marathon of Sunday, October 29, 2023. I had after all done at least two preparatory runs that were each 30k in the two months prior to the run. I had also religiously, since last Stanchart, participated in the monthly 21k IKM marathons that take place every last Friday of the month. Running a better time was another thing altogether. I now run to finish the run. I have a pool of young runners whom I have left to run better time and break records.
However, the Stanchart 2023 event was yet to unveil its mysteries that would include many unexpected and unimaginable occurrences, all in a span of four hours…
I had to call and email our Stanchart marathon contact twice to reconfirm that the marathon was really starting at 6am. This would be a first. It has over the years started at seven. The earliest it has ever started has been at 6.45am. Six o’clock was a different territory, and that is what the 2023 marathon demanded of those on the 42 thousands metres run – any of the 1,091 registered runners who were brave enough to join in.
The bus carrying the marathoners from Uthiru left five minutes late, at 0505 hours. It was full by any standards even in this early hour. Last year it was hardly quarter filled. This year it was over half full. We picked two other runners along the way and were soon at Mbagathi road, then joined Langata road at 0530hrs. It took another ten minutes to navigate the one kilometer road to Uhuru gardens due to the traffic snarl-up caused by the vehicles that were mostly headed to the same Uhuru gardens, which was the venue of the marathon.
The bus attempted to find a parking spot on the already filled up Carnivore grounds parking yard, even as I jumped out of the bus at 5.45am and started navigating my way through the big crowd of runners who had already filled the road around Uhuru gardens heading to Southern bypass road. It took me about five minutes to move through the less than five hundred metre road that had no navigation space due to the sheer volume of humanity.
I was at the starting line with less than ten minutes to spare.
“The big forty-two kilometer run is just about to start,” someone announced on the public address system as the crowd of hardly five hundred jostled on the tarmac space behind the starting line.
“This is big,” he continued, “It is like going round a playing field for 105 times,” he let it sink a bit, before continuing, “Nairobi and the world, are you ready!”
“Yes,” the crowd of runners responded. It was still dark.
“I did not hear you, Nairobi and the world, are you ready!”
“Yes,” we roared back.
By this time a team of security guards had formed a human shield and interlocked arms just in front of the crowd, about ten metres to the starting line. They attempted to hold the runners back with some success but not for long. The shield of about twelve beefy men stretched all across the tarmac would soon start being pushed forward from the back by the crowd.
“We have a countdown in two minutes,” the PA blared.
That announcement intensified the pushing forces. The security guards were forced to move the shield some metres ahead due to the sheer force of the push that was coming from behind. We were now just about five metres from the elite runners who had been advantaged to be allowed to gather undisturbed in front of the human shield.
“Nairobi and the world, we now have the countdown,” the PA announced. My phone was by this time already on airplane mode and the Runkeeper app timer set for run activity and ready for the start. My runner no. 1394 had already been affixed to my NMMT Tshirt the previous night. This was it! The morning had by now started being a bit bright.
“Ten, nine, eight, seven,….,” the countdown started.
The excitement rose towards a bursting point and it finally did burst when there was a popping sound to mark the start of the run, the sound coming from somewhere ahead. It was exactly 06.00.00 when the run started.
I started the run amongst the middle crowd runners. I had already calculated that this would be a long long long run. I had given myself a running window of 4 hours. I was bound to be on this road for many hours, all the way to 10am. It was now just six. There were still many many many minutes of feet on the tarmac on this Sunday. It is with this in mind that I took off relatively slowly and followed the crowd. I settled on a comfortable pace that was slightly slower than a fast run that I would adopt on a half marathon event.
I was still lost in thought when we encountered the first water station.
“This cannot be true,” I did self-talk.
The not true was about the distance. I expected the water station to be at the 5km mark. It seemed to be a bit too soon, but maybe I was just running faster. I have made it a habit of not looking at my timer when I am on a long competitive run. I just let go and enjoy the run. Let the timer do its thing. I do not change strategy based on the timer. I just run.
I picked a packet of water. Yes, packet of water! This was new. I am used to plastic water bottles, or worse an open plastic tumbler, but this time we were getting them in 250ml packets.
“This is now true,” I did a second self-talk about ten-minutes later, when I saw the ‘42k/21k/10k – 5km’ sign. My body was behaving well so far. The weather was still calm at this time of the morning, hardly 6.30am. It was still on the darker side of light and the overhead clouds did not seem to be ready to give in to the sun on this Sunday. I kept going. It was the same run route as that of last year and I therefore knew the general profile. We would run towards Mombasa road towards the Internal Container Depot then do a U-turn to run back along the Nairobi National Park fence towards the Uhuru gardens starting point. However, we would then continue on the Southern bypass to reach the ultimate U-turn somewhere far, to then bring us back to the finish line at Uhuru gardens.
There were adequate water stations, at least every 5km. Each had water. Some had soda! Yes!, for the first time in living memory Stanchart provided soda for the runners. However, they served them in some very small plastic tops, akin bottle tops. Anyway, something is better than nothing. But the 20th anniversary celebrations of Stanchart still had many surprises in store. They provided the runners with some fruits, bananas, melons and pieces of orange. This was surely Stanchart ver. 2.0. It was not the same old.
On these very long long runs your mind can play tricks on you, so do not believe in what your mind tells you, believe in what you see. I had almost been cheated at that 5km mark distance marker, and my mind was about to cheat me again at the 20km mark. I knew that we were already back to Langata road flyover near Uhuru gardens and I should have now done about 20km. However, I knew that I could not trust my mind when it came to judging the distance, especially when tiredness was now starting to creep in.
By this time we had already seen the 21km leader-board group follow us from the opposite side of the road having starting their run at seven. I knew that they were still behind me but not far. Later on I did see the 20km mark sign. I was once more vindicated that distance does not go that fast when running a long run. You just keep going and trust the distance markers. You can easily assume that you have gone and gone, yet you have hardly done a kilometer of distance. Trust me!
The run from Langata road flyover for the rest of the Southern bypass was lonely. This stretch had only 42k runners, since 21k runners would turn back to the finish just a few meters after that flyover. The 42k still had to go and go and go and go for another ten kilometres, before turning back to face the same distance towards the finish line.
I was ready to run and run and run, and so I kept going through the lonely run. I did not look back. I could see one or two runners somewhere beyond the horizon. I could hardly hear footsteps behind. Occasionally I would overtake a runner. Occasionally I would be overtaken myself. I just kept going, picking water where I could, picking fruits when provided, and finally, picking re-hydrating salt solution offered in plastic tumblers, when offered. This was also a first at Stanchart. They did not end there. We even had sponge stations in at least three sections of the course. Stanchart spoilt us rotten on this twentieth edition!
I finally made the ultimate U-turn at the extreme end of the run course, then made it to the 32km mark. Now I had only 10km to run back to Uhuru gardens. My mind went to a usual lunch hour run when I and my team would usually squeeze a 10km run over the lunch hour. That is what I would now had to survive after having already run for almost two and a half hours. What has to be done has to be done. This was to be a long run, and running for long is what I was going to do.
Then….
Then I knew that it was happening! I was just getting to the 35km mark when it came and it came fast and abrupt! I was hit by a sharp pain on my right thigh. It was so painful that I stopped running mid-step and moved out of the road to the periphery. I almost collapsed due to the pain. I could not fold the leg at the knee.
“Oh emm geee!,” I shouted loudly as I dropped out.
Runners came by and passed by. A duo of runners whom I had overtaken not long ago passed by, with one of them being sympathetic, “Relax, alafu tembea, bora umalize” he said while he kept his run.
Some two guys walked by next to me at the road periphery. They were just passersby. They seemed to be headed to church by their clad and prominent exposure of the Holy book. They passed me by while I was still at a standstill, hands on knees, pain still running deep in my right leg. They said something in Luhya language that I understand, to the effect that ‘that runner is finished’.
They were right, but only momentarily. I finally managed to fold my leg and the pain started to subside as I attempted to walk with a limp. I started walking with a limp as runners continued to pass by, and then momentarily restarted my slow jog. The pain subsided slightly and I resumed my run, with a little limp and with reduced speed. I would rather limp-run the last 7km than the alternative of either walking the whole 7k or the dreaded DNF! I even laughed at the prospect of a first DNF and that encouraged me to regain my almost normal pace. The pain was soon fully gone and I resumed my normal pace.
Lightning would however hit twice when the same symptoms repeated in the same sequence hardly one kilometer later. I once again started feeling the onset of that muscle pull while it was still a mile away in my central nervous system and when it finally hit without warning, I had to do another abrupt stop!
“This is not my day,” I lamented quietly.
There was no way I was going to do any run from this point on with all that pain. But how would I even run when I could not even bend my knee? I once again dropped off to the roadside and let runners pass by. I again persuaded the leg and it finally accepted to bend on the knee, before I resumed a walk, then a slow jog, then finally back to the run. This second episode did not however go away completely. I kept feeling it deep in the bone and had to jog along with a slight limp. I intended to get medical help but did not see any medical station on this side of the road. Coincidentally, we had at least two medical stations on the other side of the road. I wondered whether they thought that runners can only get injured upto 32km turn back point, after which they should survive on their own to the finish?
I kept picking water, fruits and that re-hydrating salt whenever offered. It reached a point just with 5km to go when I saw some soda at a water point and slowed to a standstill intending to get some. I could see the sodas in the big 2L bottles bundled in hundreds at a corner of the tent, but there was nothing at the tables next to the running track, where only packets of water were neatly arranged.
“I need some soda,” I asked one of the scouts servicing water.
She looked a bit perplexed, so I pointed to the tons of soda bottles just behind her, “I need some coke”
She also looked back, a bit surprised. She kind of gestured in desperation, “We have no cups”.
I know that I had already encountered such no-cup situation in some station when I still have the strength to suggest to them to empty a water packet and pour the soda into that pack. This time round I was just too exhausted to make suggestions and so I just left, a water pack on one hand, two sweet bananas on the other, phone in pocket.
With the finish line hardly five kilometers away, I was not letting the lack of coke in the blood stop me from finishing the run. I had already survived two muscle pulls and was still nursing a pain from the second pull. I was surely going to survive soda deficiency. I kept going. My mind was now focused on nothing but the finish line…
“Focus on the finish line, there is nothing but the finish line,” I re-crafted a tag line I had heard in some cartoon episode that features some sea creatures, one of whom wears pants.
My intention to finally get a good finish from the setbacks would however be messed up with the same mess that Stanchart-20 repeated from last year, mixing the finish line for 42k, 21k and 10k runners. It was now only a mere 2km to the finish when the three run categories mixed, with the 21k and 10k runners being in the tens of thousands and having completely blocked and filled up the road. Most were just walking and even having photo ops along the route and the signage. There was hardly any run in this section of the route despite my best effort to get by. I tried my best but the energy of colliding and avoiding to stumble on runners was just too much. I slowed down to the best pace that could ensure coexistence with the crowd, even as I weaved my way through.
I finally finished the run at Uhuru Gardens, with my timer recording a 3.33.09 though I knew that I had stopped my timer a bit too late since I was still recovering from the effects of the long run. This was confirmed when the final official time turned out to be 3.32.27, taking position 231 out of 730 total starters in this run. The men and women winners had already done their bit in 2.10.18 and 2.24.31, with the half marathon having been conquered in 1.02.39 and 1.11.18 respectively. It took me over 5 minutes to figure out where the medals were being issues. It was not the usual finish as you get a medal as before. This time the medal issuance had been relocated but there were no directional signs and the sheer size of crowds at the finish line area did not help matters.
However, for the first time in many years at Stanchart I finished the run and remained standing. I would previously collapse with hardly functional limbs. I had to seek medical attention last year due to the muscle pull that had hit me in the last few kilometres to the finish and had persisted after the finish. This time round the legs were still strong and that unfortunately double episode of muscle pull was a non-issue. I was not feeling it at all. The run stats showed that the run was good. 4.08min/km by 3km, 4.22 by 8.5km, 4.25 by 18.9, 4.48 by 29.4, and as expected 5.03min/km by the finish.
We left the venue and first passed by Langata Police station, where one of our runners was going to record the loss of her phone that was stolen from her marathon bag by some ‘runner’ who had slit through the bag in the course of the run. It was on Monday, a day after the run, that the runner updated me that she had found a big crowd at the Police station, most of them in Stanchart Tshirts reporting lost items mostly phones. However, there was a reported loss of laptop and just when it could not get worse, two runners were reporting lost vehicles – stolen from the public parking of the marathon grounds.
WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Oct. 30, 2023
Running
Running
Showing posts with label Uhuru Gardens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Uhuru Gardens. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 1, 2023
Marking Stanchart ‘2-0’ with a ‘2-Ouch’ run
Tuesday, November 1, 2022
Stanchart 2022 - The only marathon that did not get me
Stanchart 2022 - The only marathon that did not get me
The Stanchart Nairobi International marathon held on Sunday, October 30, 2022 was probably the first marathon over the distance that I have managed to do and recover so fast that I was back on my feet hardly one hour after the run. I would normally be knocked out of my feet literally for at least 24-hours. I would also not sleep in comfort due to the aches on the legs. This time it was different….
I was doing the first marathon in Kenya since 2018. I was in the diaspora when the 2019 run was held, while the COVID19 pandemic caused the cancellation of the 2020 Stanchart marathon. The 2021 event was held fully virtual, apart from the few invited elite runners who were allowed to the run venue. I had participated in the virtual 21 least year, but it did not have the usually anticipated euphoria of the crowds.
Four vaccinations later and I was one of the about five hundred runners who assembled at the starting line of the 42k run on the Southern by-pass road, just besides Carnivore restaurant next to Uhuru gardens. I had woken up at five, taken two slices of bread and a lukewarm cup of black coffee before walking the one kilometre to the main gate of the compound where I was to pick the minibus to town.
We were less than eight in the bus as it left for the drive to Uhuru gardens at 0550hrs. The road was fairly deserted on this Sunday morning as we drove on Naivasha road to Ngong road, then to Mbagathi way. However, the jam started just as we joined Langata road from Mbagathi way. It was just about 0620hrs.
The bus moved on at snail pace as we joined the queue of vehicles that were definitely going to the venue of the marathon some one kilometre away. I could see the runners already walking or jogging along the road towards the direction of Wilson airport, then eventually to Uhuru gardens. These walkers and runners overtook us as we struggled with the jam.
We finally managed to get to the Uhuru gardens designated parking yard. It was getting full. The runners were however already at beehive activity. It was now just about 6.35am. I had about 10-minutes to make it to the starting line past the Carnivore restaurant.
I started jogging towards the direction of the road, where I could hear the loudspeakers beckoning the runners. They announced that the run would be starting in five minutes. I was still struggling with figuring out a route that would get me out of the Carnivore grounds onto the Southern bypass. I managed to find a gate that would exit the grounds and onto the road.
It was just three minutes before the run when I joined the crowd of about five hundred. The weather was cool at this early morning. It was almost chilly, but it was not. And as per the tradition of the run, it did not wait for anyone since at exactly 6.45am the 42km marathon started by a simple pop of something. I am not sure whether it was a balloon that popped or something else. The group left and we started running towards Mombasa road on the Southern bypass. The Nairobi National Park was fenced off to our right on the other side of the dual carriage.
My left foot was a bit painful. I hoped that the pain would subside since I did not know how I would survive a four-hour run with a painful leg. It could have been due to lack of warmup or something, since the pain subsided after about five minutes of run as I pounded the tarmac that had been completely blocked of any other traffic, apart from runners.
The first water point appeared besides the road, hardly ten minutes after the start of run. I ignored it. I kept running. The crowd was sparse. I overtook a few runners as we kept going. We made a first U-turn somewhere near the internal container deport (ICD) nearly eight kilometres since the start of run. I had studied the route map and I knew that we had another ten or so kilometres of run to get back to Uhuru gardens on Langata road. The return run was uneventful before the 21km front runners appeared and stole the show. This 21k run category had started at seven. They sprinted past, the timing vehicle just ahead of the pack of ten or so, bicycles and motorbikes on tow.
I got to Langata road and passed underneath. By then I had encountered water stations at least every four kilometres. I hoped that the waters would remain abundant for the rest of the journey. I could not survive a 42 without water. Finally, I saw the 20km mark. I now knew that the real run shall start in the next one kilometer as I repeat a distance akin the long run already done.
I also noted that since crossing under the Langata road the run had looked and felt hilly, and it was. I had not planned for a hilly run, but there it was. The water points remained available every 15 or so minutes. The runners on the 42 were now few and far between. I could hardly see more than a runner or two in front.
“Banana? You need any?,” I thought that I heard.
I was completely immersed in absentmindedness that I did not even recognize a biker riding along. He was the person asking, stretching out a hand that had a collection of ripe banana pieces.
I increased pace slightly to catch up as he handed me a piece, two pieces. I bit a small piece and kept going. I kept biting along over the distance. I would encounter another banana point at a water station just as we neared the 30k turning point. By this time the sun was blazing hot, though it was hardly nine.
That turning point was the best relief ever! I now knew that I just had to survive the 12k journey back to the finish line at Uhuru gardens. My body was still in good form. I kept picking the water bottles from the water points whenever I got to them. At about the34km mark I got to a fruit point and stopped. I picked a banana and a melon. I also got a water bottle. That thirty-second rest was deliberate. Those fruits were deliberate. That water was deliberate too. I was strategizing for facing ‘the wall’ – the point in time on the 42km where many runners collapse and pass out if they are not well seasoned runners. I have almost passed out myself, so I know and recognize this point.
I infused some glucose that I had in my pocket into the 300ml water in the bottle and took a sip. I then resumed my run, and it was now all run towards the wall, which came and passed without much notice. I was now on the downhill and I was completely fine. I was offered a choice of Coke or Fanta at some point on the run. I took the small tumbler, with hardly 100ml of Coke, gulped it all down in a go, threw the plastic tumbler away, and resumed my run.
This run was now in the bag. Nothing, repeat, nothing, was now standing on my way. I was not aiming to break any records. I just wanted to run for the first time on this new route and survive it.
Did I say nothing would stop me now? I was wrong!
I got to the 40k mark, just before Langata road, where the 10k and 21k runner were also now making their turnback to Uhuru gardens, and the muscle pull on the right thigh hit me. It was such a sudden and painful hit and I had to limp to a stop just at the water point. I saw one of the officials and stopped at her standing position as she was directing the routes for the 10/21 versus 42 at this meeting point.
“Is there a first aid station?,” I asked.
She was taken aback as if she did not expect this question. I could see her searching herself. She eventually responded, “Hapo mbele”
Fortunately, the short stop had given me a short relief. Of course, there was nothing ‘hapo mbele’. I just kept going at a reduced speed as the muscle pain reduced but did not subside altogether. By this time the road was now full of the 10k and 21k runners who had all joined in as they headed to the finish. They were mostly walking. It was difficult for those still running like me to find their way through this packed mass. I still managed to weave through and kept running. The finish line was now just a kilometre away. I could hear the loudspeakers at the finish.
I left the Southern bypass and started to make my way to the Uhuru gardens using the back road. The road remained full of runners. I kept going. The end was near. I reached the enclosure that was to mark the finish line with all manner of crowds already full at all the available spaces. I guessed where the finish line should be due to lack of clear marking or visibility. And I guessed right by turning left. I was soon crossing the finishing line with its timing chip mats on the track. I momentarily got a runners medal.
But while the run was good, the stop confirmed that my body was overstressed! I was tired and could hardly make any steady steps. I thought of collapsing into a rest but a heard the B-and-B team member, Beryl, who had been waiting come to the rescue.
“Congrats! There is no stopping. Keep walking”
I obeyed and kept walking. My legs were paining! That muscle pull was still lingering in the back of the right leg and was not going away. I could hardly fold the right leg on the knee.
Between picking free tree seedlings availed to all runners to pick and take home to plant, and taking some photos and water, I still recognized that my right tight was out of action. It was painful.
“Someone give me an extinguisher for my leg,” I lamented as I walked along, “My leg is on fire!,” I cried out loud!
“We can seek a medical,” Beryl suggested.
I am not sure whether I agreed or not, but I kept walking as we headed to an ambulance branded ‘Nairobi Metropolitan Services’.
“What is the issue?”
“My leg is painful! I can hardly fold my knee.”
“Sorry, but we have run out of supplies, but you can wait”
Wait? When my leg is hardly functional!
We waited, before I was finally called back to the next similar ambulance. The attendant applied some cream on the thigh, then massaged the area with ‘Deep heat’ before applying a bandage dressing. That application burnt like hell! But it was short lived, since I was soon walking about normally as if nothing had happened to that leg.
My day was normal from that point on. I even managed to attend a full afternoon meeting when back to Uthiru, albeit virtually, and walk another 3k home in the evening.
While previously I would be bedridden immediately after the run, and would toss and turn the whole night after such an event, this time round it was different. I became normal immediately after the run and did not have those aftereffects of the marathon. Maybe it is the monthly international marathons that have reconditioned my body to take the event much better than before? Or maybe it was the route?
Or was it just my good day? The good day that Runkeeper recorded as 42.27km in 3.29.09 at 4.57 average, while the official record recorded the run as 3.28.39 at position 240 out of the 538 in the men’s event and 296 overall. The winner in the men’s managed the course in 2.10.22, while the ladies champ took the crown in 2.27.04 in a field of 154 ladies. The total number of posted results were 692, both physical and virtual.
The confusion at the finish line was a subject of discussion and appeals, after some leading runners in the 21k were directed to the wrong finish point only to be forced to turn back. One national newspaper even described it as ‘chaotic’. So, while Stanchart got it right in areas such as adequacy of water supplies and even some fruits and drinks on the 42, plus those free seedlings at the finish line, they could have done better in crowd management and a well-organized finish line. But this was my retirement run from the 42, so, I may not get to know if my suggestions are taken on board over the distance next time.
WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Nov. 1, 2022
The Stanchart Nairobi International marathon held on Sunday, October 30, 2022 was probably the first marathon over the distance that I have managed to do and recover so fast that I was back on my feet hardly one hour after the run. I would normally be knocked out of my feet literally for at least 24-hours. I would also not sleep in comfort due to the aches on the legs. This time it was different….
I was doing the first marathon in Kenya since 2018. I was in the diaspora when the 2019 run was held, while the COVID19 pandemic caused the cancellation of the 2020 Stanchart marathon. The 2021 event was held fully virtual, apart from the few invited elite runners who were allowed to the run venue. I had participated in the virtual 21 least year, but it did not have the usually anticipated euphoria of the crowds.
Four vaccinations later and I was one of the about five hundred runners who assembled at the starting line of the 42k run on the Southern by-pass road, just besides Carnivore restaurant next to Uhuru gardens. I had woken up at five, taken two slices of bread and a lukewarm cup of black coffee before walking the one kilometre to the main gate of the compound where I was to pick the minibus to town.
We were less than eight in the bus as it left for the drive to Uhuru gardens at 0550hrs. The road was fairly deserted on this Sunday morning as we drove on Naivasha road to Ngong road, then to Mbagathi way. However, the jam started just as we joined Langata road from Mbagathi way. It was just about 0620hrs.
The bus moved on at snail pace as we joined the queue of vehicles that were definitely going to the venue of the marathon some one kilometre away. I could see the runners already walking or jogging along the road towards the direction of Wilson airport, then eventually to Uhuru gardens. These walkers and runners overtook us as we struggled with the jam.
We finally managed to get to the Uhuru gardens designated parking yard. It was getting full. The runners were however already at beehive activity. It was now just about 6.35am. I had about 10-minutes to make it to the starting line past the Carnivore restaurant.
I started jogging towards the direction of the road, where I could hear the loudspeakers beckoning the runners. They announced that the run would be starting in five minutes. I was still struggling with figuring out a route that would get me out of the Carnivore grounds onto the Southern bypass. I managed to find a gate that would exit the grounds and onto the road.
It was just three minutes before the run when I joined the crowd of about five hundred. The weather was cool at this early morning. It was almost chilly, but it was not. And as per the tradition of the run, it did not wait for anyone since at exactly 6.45am the 42km marathon started by a simple pop of something. I am not sure whether it was a balloon that popped or something else. The group left and we started running towards Mombasa road on the Southern bypass. The Nairobi National Park was fenced off to our right on the other side of the dual carriage.
My left foot was a bit painful. I hoped that the pain would subside since I did not know how I would survive a four-hour run with a painful leg. It could have been due to lack of warmup or something, since the pain subsided after about five minutes of run as I pounded the tarmac that had been completely blocked of any other traffic, apart from runners.
The first water point appeared besides the road, hardly ten minutes after the start of run. I ignored it. I kept running. The crowd was sparse. I overtook a few runners as we kept going. We made a first U-turn somewhere near the internal container deport (ICD) nearly eight kilometres since the start of run. I had studied the route map and I knew that we had another ten or so kilometres of run to get back to Uhuru gardens on Langata road. The return run was uneventful before the 21km front runners appeared and stole the show. This 21k run category had started at seven. They sprinted past, the timing vehicle just ahead of the pack of ten or so, bicycles and motorbikes on tow.
I got to Langata road and passed underneath. By then I had encountered water stations at least every four kilometres. I hoped that the waters would remain abundant for the rest of the journey. I could not survive a 42 without water. Finally, I saw the 20km mark. I now knew that the real run shall start in the next one kilometer as I repeat a distance akin the long run already done.
I also noted that since crossing under the Langata road the run had looked and felt hilly, and it was. I had not planned for a hilly run, but there it was. The water points remained available every 15 or so minutes. The runners on the 42 were now few and far between. I could hardly see more than a runner or two in front.
“Banana? You need any?,” I thought that I heard.
I was completely immersed in absentmindedness that I did not even recognize a biker riding along. He was the person asking, stretching out a hand that had a collection of ripe banana pieces.
I increased pace slightly to catch up as he handed me a piece, two pieces. I bit a small piece and kept going. I kept biting along over the distance. I would encounter another banana point at a water station just as we neared the 30k turning point. By this time the sun was blazing hot, though it was hardly nine.
That turning point was the best relief ever! I now knew that I just had to survive the 12k journey back to the finish line at Uhuru gardens. My body was still in good form. I kept picking the water bottles from the water points whenever I got to them. At about the34km mark I got to a fruit point and stopped. I picked a banana and a melon. I also got a water bottle. That thirty-second rest was deliberate. Those fruits were deliberate. That water was deliberate too. I was strategizing for facing ‘the wall’ – the point in time on the 42km where many runners collapse and pass out if they are not well seasoned runners. I have almost passed out myself, so I know and recognize this point.
I infused some glucose that I had in my pocket into the 300ml water in the bottle and took a sip. I then resumed my run, and it was now all run towards the wall, which came and passed without much notice. I was now on the downhill and I was completely fine. I was offered a choice of Coke or Fanta at some point on the run. I took the small tumbler, with hardly 100ml of Coke, gulped it all down in a go, threw the plastic tumbler away, and resumed my run.
This run was now in the bag. Nothing, repeat, nothing, was now standing on my way. I was not aiming to break any records. I just wanted to run for the first time on this new route and survive it.
Did I say nothing would stop me now? I was wrong!
I got to the 40k mark, just before Langata road, where the 10k and 21k runner were also now making their turnback to Uhuru gardens, and the muscle pull on the right thigh hit me. It was such a sudden and painful hit and I had to limp to a stop just at the water point. I saw one of the officials and stopped at her standing position as she was directing the routes for the 10/21 versus 42 at this meeting point.
“Is there a first aid station?,” I asked.
She was taken aback as if she did not expect this question. I could see her searching herself. She eventually responded, “Hapo mbele”
Fortunately, the short stop had given me a short relief. Of course, there was nothing ‘hapo mbele’. I just kept going at a reduced speed as the muscle pain reduced but did not subside altogether. By this time the road was now full of the 10k and 21k runners who had all joined in as they headed to the finish. They were mostly walking. It was difficult for those still running like me to find their way through this packed mass. I still managed to weave through and kept running. The finish line was now just a kilometre away. I could hear the loudspeakers at the finish.
I left the Southern bypass and started to make my way to the Uhuru gardens using the back road. The road remained full of runners. I kept going. The end was near. I reached the enclosure that was to mark the finish line with all manner of crowds already full at all the available spaces. I guessed where the finish line should be due to lack of clear marking or visibility. And I guessed right by turning left. I was soon crossing the finishing line with its timing chip mats on the track. I momentarily got a runners medal.
But while the run was good, the stop confirmed that my body was overstressed! I was tired and could hardly make any steady steps. I thought of collapsing into a rest but a heard the B-and-B team member, Beryl, who had been waiting come to the rescue.
“Congrats! There is no stopping. Keep walking”
I obeyed and kept walking. My legs were paining! That muscle pull was still lingering in the back of the right leg and was not going away. I could hardly fold the right leg on the knee.
Between picking free tree seedlings availed to all runners to pick and take home to plant, and taking some photos and water, I still recognized that my right tight was out of action. It was painful.
“Someone give me an extinguisher for my leg,” I lamented as I walked along, “My leg is on fire!,” I cried out loud!
“We can seek a medical,” Beryl suggested.
I am not sure whether I agreed or not, but I kept walking as we headed to an ambulance branded ‘Nairobi Metropolitan Services’.
“What is the issue?”
“My leg is painful! I can hardly fold my knee.”
“Sorry, but we have run out of supplies, but you can wait”
Wait? When my leg is hardly functional!
We waited, before I was finally called back to the next similar ambulance. The attendant applied some cream on the thigh, then massaged the area with ‘Deep heat’ before applying a bandage dressing. That application burnt like hell! But it was short lived, since I was soon walking about normally as if nothing had happened to that leg.
My day was normal from that point on. I even managed to attend a full afternoon meeting when back to Uthiru, albeit virtually, and walk another 3k home in the evening.
While previously I would be bedridden immediately after the run, and would toss and turn the whole night after such an event, this time round it was different. I became normal immediately after the run and did not have those aftereffects of the marathon. Maybe it is the monthly international marathons that have reconditioned my body to take the event much better than before? Or maybe it was the route?
Or was it just my good day? The good day that Runkeeper recorded as 42.27km in 3.29.09 at 4.57 average, while the official record recorded the run as 3.28.39 at position 240 out of the 538 in the men’s event and 296 overall. The winner in the men’s managed the course in 2.10.22, while the ladies champ took the crown in 2.27.04 in a field of 154 ladies. The total number of posted results were 692, both physical and virtual.
The confusion at the finish line was a subject of discussion and appeals, after some leading runners in the 21k were directed to the wrong finish point only to be forced to turn back. One national newspaper even described it as ‘chaotic’. So, while Stanchart got it right in areas such as adequacy of water supplies and even some fruits and drinks on the 42, plus those free seedlings at the finish line, they could have done better in crowd management and a well-organized finish line. But this was my retirement run from the 42, so, I may not get to know if my suggestions are taken on board over the distance next time.
WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Nov. 1, 2022
Sunday, July 3, 2016
Sotokoto 6 with ones and firsts
Sotokoto 6 with ones and firsts
One am
I slept at one AM on July 3, 2016 – same day of the big run. Thank Germany for this. I had bet on them winning the quarter final match against Italy at the ongoing UEFA European Champions Football tournament in France. I was confident of sleeping by 11.30pm when they scored their first goal in the second half for the match that started at 10.00pm. However, it was not to be. The game ended 1-1 by 90 minutes. Extra time was a must, and no more goals were scored in the additional 30 minutes.
I was therefore awake past mid-night to witness the penalty shootouts. I have been ‘listening’ to the penalties in the last month, but I discovered that a local free to air channel was showing the matches and had my opportunity to watch the shoot-outs. And who would have expected that both teams can squander three penalties a piece at the initial five kicks each? The match was therefore won on the 9th kick of the extra five kicks. I hope ‘the machine’ does not keep me waiting this long as they advance to the semis. (Read a previous blog story where I lost a bet on some matches leading to this quarter finals stage. I was therefore a bit passionate about my bets at this point. So far all but one had come true. The single miss being the Portugal-Poland tie, where the penalty shoot out let down my Poland bet)
Kumi na moja
That is the time was that I was taking breakfast, ready to leave the house for the bus stage. I was at the Nakuru highway at 5.20am and got into a matatu ten minutes later. I landed at the city centre at six and walked to Haile Sellasie – Uhuru Highway junction to await a vehicle. This next vehicle took me past Nyayo stadium to the diversion at T-Mall, where the left side of the road was already closed and had to share the wrong side of the road with oncoming traffic. I walked from Wilson Airport to Uhuru gardens – a ten minute walk – to warm me up ready for the run.
One toilet
The athletes had already started gathering at Uhuru gardens by the time I arrived at the gardens compound about seven. It is usual to empty the body ready for such a run, and that is what forced me to the usual directions of the washrooms. I was glad to see the single toilet block, though I wondered why they did not think of portable ones or any other way of coping with the expected numbers. Woe to me, when I reached the block to find it locked.
“Wapi choo?,” a colleague in front of me asked the stranger standing around. He could have been an official of Sotokoto or a cop or just someone in some uniform.
“Eh!... Imefungwa?,” he asked and answered himself, “Sijui”
A lady who was just ahead kind of pressed her mid-part with his hands, tried to walk aimlessly, but could not hold it any longer. She just crouched and let go. The two gents, and those behind us, now at an abrupt stop, just out of a locked block, decided to look elsewhere. Luckily, there was a ticket on the fringes of the gardens. The guys just watered the thicket. Those with ‘heavier’ ideas fertilized the thickets, just almost in plain sight.
Saa moja
“Ni saa moja,” someone announced on the public address system, “Twakata kuanza mbio. Wote waende kwa barabara nje ya compound hii.”
For the benefit of the foreigners, evidently Japanese, who were the main sponsored, she translated, “We are about to start the run. All are asked to get out of this compound to the main road.”
Soon a crowd gathered outside Uhuru gardens, on the tarmac road now closed to traffic, next to some two signs of both of the road, written “START”
First Lady
We got to learn that the run shall be flagged off by the first lady of the republic, Mrs. UK. Time started running and no sight of our host. Runners just milled around, some in chatter, others in thought. Some took selfies, others watched them take them. Some warmed up, others stayed put. Some complained loudly of the delay, others were indifferent.
Three outrider motorbikes followed by three dark Mercedes Benz saloons signaled the arrival of the guest. A fourth big van, same dark colour, followed at the rear. As usual, these machinery forcefully ejected the once settled runners out of the comfort of the tarmac and had to seek refuge on the road side for the 30-second duration of the drama.
One hundred
One hundred is the number of runners that I counted at the starting line. Is this not the worst publicized run in Nairobi? Raising only 100 runners out of a city of over 1 million!? Is this a joke or what? I wonder why the organizers cannot raise the numbers, when other runs are twice expensive in terms of registration fees and these usually marshal over five thousand runners.
This was the worst attended run ever. I was been to other three Sotokotos in the past, 2009, 2010 and 2013, but none was this bad. I tend to think that the organizers just woke up some day in mid-June and decided that they are holding the run. Contrast that to the Nairobi International marathon, for example, which is already registered runners for the October event, over 3 months in advance. And, this is just because it is local. Other international runs at the big arenas in the US and UK register runners almost one year to the event, and close half year before the run.
July 1
Looking back, I was at Uhuru gardens secretariat office of Sotokoto on Friday, July 1 to collect my run number and kit. This was after receiving official communication that the kits would be ready for all to collect from 9.00am on that Friday and the following day only. I was taken aback as to how they can issue the runner kits just 48-hours to the event, for all the runners that they were expecting? Had they deliberately orchestrated this run to fail or what? How many people can collect kits within 48-hours at such a remote location? It took me two hours on two public transport vehicles to get to these offices (plus a third broken down matatu and double the fare as a consequence).
“We do not have T-shirts yet,” the lady at the unmarked reception and the equally concealed secretariat office started when she saw my approach. The reason why I was able to trace this office location was due to precedence. I just recalled where I got it three years ago. Without that experience I could have been lost.
“What do you mean?,” was my answer. They had communicated to me that I should pick the gear, and here they were telling me that there was nothing. Could they not get their act together first before inconveniencing such philanthropic runners?
1pm
She tried to explain that the kits were late, though they had the run numbers only at the moment. She said something about suppliers, delays, expected after 1pm, come back later, or come back tomorrow.
“I come from Uthiru, which is in a different province” I told her, “I am not coming back here! Get me someone who shall give me a solution.”
She hesitated.
“Make no mistake,” I reiterated, “Am not coming back to Langata road until Sunday.”
There is nothing that breaks the toughest of situations that some simple words, which I encountered when finally some guy came into the office, “Apologies, we are very sorry that the T-Shirts are not available yet. Truly sorry. Accept our apologies.”
What say you, when someone apologizes over a situation? You are completely broken down and your defenses are no longer in place.
“Get me the run number. I shall use a previous T-Shirt,” I assisted them.
0011
Was I really runner no. 11? I registered for the event on June 15, having received an invitation through email the previous day. The registration fee was KShs.1,050 – a strange figure, but when I finally saw the receipt showing only 1,000/=, I understood that the organizers did not want to incur any processing charges through the PesaPal platform that was handling the online payments.
If it was true that I was the eleventh runner, based on the run number, then the registration for this event was worse than I thought. Add to the delay in providing runner kits in time and you have a situation at your hands.
One stanza
We sung one stanza of the national anthem just after her excellence arrived. Thereafter, it was a matter of the flag off though a countdown from 10. At count 1, the blast of a starter gun was heard and all started the run. I started my timer.
The run route had changed. I have run from the Nairobi National park to Nyayo stadium and back as was the inaugural run circuit or from Uhuru gardens to Nyayo stadium with two loops and back, as was my second run in Sotokoto two.
This third run on Sotokoto 6 was taking advantage of the newly build Southern by-pass that connects Langata road to Nakuru highway. It was a simple enough route – a run from Uhuru gardens, straight to the by-pass to head towards Ngong forest side upto the 10.5km mark for a U-turn back to the stadium. Just 21km of nothing but pure, dark, hard, unforgiving tarmac.
One water point
I had expected some water points along the route, especially at the 5km marker, but this did not turn true. The ‘5km’ board was lonely at the centre of the road with no water point on site. It took sheer will power to just keep running without knowing when this vital hydrate shall be available.
The run was uneventful. They elite runners just sprinted off, while the rest of us veterans tagged along. The runners were quite few, and that meant that the crowd was think, in fact just a file of runners, usually 20-50m apart.
I met the first runners, the fast ones, at a time of 0.38.00. They were already on their way back while I was yet to hit the 10.5km turning point.
Water relief! I meant what a relief! I finally reach the U-turn, to get the first water point, even as I dip my fingers into the basins that contain some ink. Just like the First Lady marathon in March, we have a similar dip-fingers-in-ink situation. Please, invest in some simple timing chip. Those transmitters cost less than a cent for crying out loud!! I briefly glance at my stop watch which reads 0.50.00
One (more) water point
I encounter a second water point on my way back, at the 5km mark. I know it was now there for long, since that is the route I have just been through some 30-minutes ago. One other rule in running is to ensure that you have some water at all time. I apply this rule by throwing away the almost empty bottle that I took at the turn-back point and pick a full one. I run with this to the finishing point.
The way back is easier. I just realize that the first leg was hilly and the way back is generally on a downhill.
111
I hit the finish line inside the Uhuru gardens and the organizers hand me a small piece of paper. The number 111 is written on it. This is my finishing position. I guessed the runners were one hundred only, but maybe I was wrong. However, I doubt if they shall be more than 200, based on the numbers that I encountered on the route.
Another round of recording names on the finishers’ sheet, and then a walk to the tent where the blank finishers’ certificates are issued after they put a big cross with a marker pen on the runner bib having the run number.
The predominantly red lettered cert reads,
“Certificate of Completion – 2016 Sotokoto Safari Half Marathon. This Certificate is hereby awarded to dash dash for succeful completion of the Sotokoto Safari Half Marathon dash dash category (21km/5km) race in a time of dash dash. Awarded on this day of 03rd July 2016. Signed (signed for sure) Douglas Wakiihuri, SS, Race Organiser, Sotokoto Safari Marathon”
The typo on ‘succesful’ is real. I had to re-verify to confirm that this typo shall last with us for eternity.
Good thing is that I shall be having the first certificate to show for this event – which I had previously described as the run with nothing to show – no cert no medal. At least they have now worked the cert part, albeit a dash dash version. Maybe, just maybe, we shall be looking at some medals soon.
This is what I shall fill on one of the dashes… a time of 1.34.18. The other parameters such as distance, calories, average speed, max speed, slow speed were not available since I just replaced the bat of the gadget and forgot to calibrate.
11.11am
I alight from the matatu back home at 11.11am. I finally have my T-shirt as a carryon luggage. I collected this T after the run. The organizers had asked me to check before/after the run. I managed to check after the run, and after sms reminder that, “Pick your size small T-shirt as the only ones remaining”.
I was categorical on the application form that I needed a size L. I was even the eleventh athlete to register. How is it possible that I can get a leftover T-shirt of size small?
“You are lucky,” the gentleman at the secretariat office informed me, “I stumbled upon this size M”
Lucky? Really?
Barack Wamkaya Wanjawa, Nairobi, Kenya, July 3, 2016
One am
I slept at one AM on July 3, 2016 – same day of the big run. Thank Germany for this. I had bet on them winning the quarter final match against Italy at the ongoing UEFA European Champions Football tournament in France. I was confident of sleeping by 11.30pm when they scored their first goal in the second half for the match that started at 10.00pm. However, it was not to be. The game ended 1-1 by 90 minutes. Extra time was a must, and no more goals were scored in the additional 30 minutes.
I was therefore awake past mid-night to witness the penalty shootouts. I have been ‘listening’ to the penalties in the last month, but I discovered that a local free to air channel was showing the matches and had my opportunity to watch the shoot-outs. And who would have expected that both teams can squander three penalties a piece at the initial five kicks each? The match was therefore won on the 9th kick of the extra five kicks. I hope ‘the machine’ does not keep me waiting this long as they advance to the semis. (Read a previous blog story where I lost a bet on some matches leading to this quarter finals stage. I was therefore a bit passionate about my bets at this point. So far all but one had come true. The single miss being the Portugal-Poland tie, where the penalty shoot out let down my Poland bet)
Kumi na moja
That is the time was that I was taking breakfast, ready to leave the house for the bus stage. I was at the Nakuru highway at 5.20am and got into a matatu ten minutes later. I landed at the city centre at six and walked to Haile Sellasie – Uhuru Highway junction to await a vehicle. This next vehicle took me past Nyayo stadium to the diversion at T-Mall, where the left side of the road was already closed and had to share the wrong side of the road with oncoming traffic. I walked from Wilson Airport to Uhuru gardens – a ten minute walk – to warm me up ready for the run.
One toilet
The athletes had already started gathering at Uhuru gardens by the time I arrived at the gardens compound about seven. It is usual to empty the body ready for such a run, and that is what forced me to the usual directions of the washrooms. I was glad to see the single toilet block, though I wondered why they did not think of portable ones or any other way of coping with the expected numbers. Woe to me, when I reached the block to find it locked.
“Wapi choo?,” a colleague in front of me asked the stranger standing around. He could have been an official of Sotokoto or a cop or just someone in some uniform.
“Eh!... Imefungwa?,” he asked and answered himself, “Sijui”
A lady who was just ahead kind of pressed her mid-part with his hands, tried to walk aimlessly, but could not hold it any longer. She just crouched and let go. The two gents, and those behind us, now at an abrupt stop, just out of a locked block, decided to look elsewhere. Luckily, there was a ticket on the fringes of the gardens. The guys just watered the thicket. Those with ‘heavier’ ideas fertilized the thickets, just almost in plain sight.
Saa moja
“Ni saa moja,” someone announced on the public address system, “Twakata kuanza mbio. Wote waende kwa barabara nje ya compound hii.”
For the benefit of the foreigners, evidently Japanese, who were the main sponsored, she translated, “We are about to start the run. All are asked to get out of this compound to the main road.”
Soon a crowd gathered outside Uhuru gardens, on the tarmac road now closed to traffic, next to some two signs of both of the road, written “START”
First Lady
We got to learn that the run shall be flagged off by the first lady of the republic, Mrs. UK. Time started running and no sight of our host. Runners just milled around, some in chatter, others in thought. Some took selfies, others watched them take them. Some warmed up, others stayed put. Some complained loudly of the delay, others were indifferent.
Three outrider motorbikes followed by three dark Mercedes Benz saloons signaled the arrival of the guest. A fourth big van, same dark colour, followed at the rear. As usual, these machinery forcefully ejected the once settled runners out of the comfort of the tarmac and had to seek refuge on the road side for the 30-second duration of the drama.
One hundred
One hundred is the number of runners that I counted at the starting line. Is this not the worst publicized run in Nairobi? Raising only 100 runners out of a city of over 1 million!? Is this a joke or what? I wonder why the organizers cannot raise the numbers, when other runs are twice expensive in terms of registration fees and these usually marshal over five thousand runners.
This was the worst attended run ever. I was been to other three Sotokotos in the past, 2009, 2010 and 2013, but none was this bad. I tend to think that the organizers just woke up some day in mid-June and decided that they are holding the run. Contrast that to the Nairobi International marathon, for example, which is already registered runners for the October event, over 3 months in advance. And, this is just because it is local. Other international runs at the big arenas in the US and UK register runners almost one year to the event, and close half year before the run.
July 1
Looking back, I was at Uhuru gardens secretariat office of Sotokoto on Friday, July 1 to collect my run number and kit. This was after receiving official communication that the kits would be ready for all to collect from 9.00am on that Friday and the following day only. I was taken aback as to how they can issue the runner kits just 48-hours to the event, for all the runners that they were expecting? Had they deliberately orchestrated this run to fail or what? How many people can collect kits within 48-hours at such a remote location? It took me two hours on two public transport vehicles to get to these offices (plus a third broken down matatu and double the fare as a consequence).
“We do not have T-shirts yet,” the lady at the unmarked reception and the equally concealed secretariat office started when she saw my approach. The reason why I was able to trace this office location was due to precedence. I just recalled where I got it three years ago. Without that experience I could have been lost.
“What do you mean?,” was my answer. They had communicated to me that I should pick the gear, and here they were telling me that there was nothing. Could they not get their act together first before inconveniencing such philanthropic runners?
1pm
She tried to explain that the kits were late, though they had the run numbers only at the moment. She said something about suppliers, delays, expected after 1pm, come back later, or come back tomorrow.
“I come from Uthiru, which is in a different province” I told her, “I am not coming back here! Get me someone who shall give me a solution.”
She hesitated.
“Make no mistake,” I reiterated, “Am not coming back to Langata road until Sunday.”
There is nothing that breaks the toughest of situations that some simple words, which I encountered when finally some guy came into the office, “Apologies, we are very sorry that the T-Shirts are not available yet. Truly sorry. Accept our apologies.”
What say you, when someone apologizes over a situation? You are completely broken down and your defenses are no longer in place.
“Get me the run number. I shall use a previous T-Shirt,” I assisted them.
0011
Was I really runner no. 11? I registered for the event on June 15, having received an invitation through email the previous day. The registration fee was KShs.1,050 – a strange figure, but when I finally saw the receipt showing only 1,000/=, I understood that the organizers did not want to incur any processing charges through the PesaPal platform that was handling the online payments.
If it was true that I was the eleventh runner, based on the run number, then the registration for this event was worse than I thought. Add to the delay in providing runner kits in time and you have a situation at your hands.
One stanza
We sung one stanza of the national anthem just after her excellence arrived. Thereafter, it was a matter of the flag off though a countdown from 10. At count 1, the blast of a starter gun was heard and all started the run. I started my timer.
The run route had changed. I have run from the Nairobi National park to Nyayo stadium and back as was the inaugural run circuit or from Uhuru gardens to Nyayo stadium with two loops and back, as was my second run in Sotokoto two.
This third run on Sotokoto 6 was taking advantage of the newly build Southern by-pass that connects Langata road to Nakuru highway. It was a simple enough route – a run from Uhuru gardens, straight to the by-pass to head towards Ngong forest side upto the 10.5km mark for a U-turn back to the stadium. Just 21km of nothing but pure, dark, hard, unforgiving tarmac.
One water point
I had expected some water points along the route, especially at the 5km marker, but this did not turn true. The ‘5km’ board was lonely at the centre of the road with no water point on site. It took sheer will power to just keep running without knowing when this vital hydrate shall be available.
The run was uneventful. They elite runners just sprinted off, while the rest of us veterans tagged along. The runners were quite few, and that meant that the crowd was think, in fact just a file of runners, usually 20-50m apart.
I met the first runners, the fast ones, at a time of 0.38.00. They were already on their way back while I was yet to hit the 10.5km turning point.
Water relief! I meant what a relief! I finally reach the U-turn, to get the first water point, even as I dip my fingers into the basins that contain some ink. Just like the First Lady marathon in March, we have a similar dip-fingers-in-ink situation. Please, invest in some simple timing chip. Those transmitters cost less than a cent for crying out loud!! I briefly glance at my stop watch which reads 0.50.00
One (more) water point
I encounter a second water point on my way back, at the 5km mark. I know it was now there for long, since that is the route I have just been through some 30-minutes ago. One other rule in running is to ensure that you have some water at all time. I apply this rule by throwing away the almost empty bottle that I took at the turn-back point and pick a full one. I run with this to the finishing point.
The way back is easier. I just realize that the first leg was hilly and the way back is generally on a downhill.
111
I hit the finish line inside the Uhuru gardens and the organizers hand me a small piece of paper. The number 111 is written on it. This is my finishing position. I guessed the runners were one hundred only, but maybe I was wrong. However, I doubt if they shall be more than 200, based on the numbers that I encountered on the route.
Another round of recording names on the finishers’ sheet, and then a walk to the tent where the blank finishers’ certificates are issued after they put a big cross with a marker pen on the runner bib having the run number.
The predominantly red lettered cert reads,
“Certificate of Completion – 2016 Sotokoto Safari Half Marathon. This Certificate is hereby awarded to dash dash for succeful completion of the Sotokoto Safari Half Marathon dash dash category (21km/5km) race in a time of dash dash. Awarded on this day of 03rd July 2016. Signed (signed for sure) Douglas Wakiihuri, SS, Race Organiser, Sotokoto Safari Marathon”
The typo on ‘succesful’ is real. I had to re-verify to confirm that this typo shall last with us for eternity.
Good thing is that I shall be having the first certificate to show for this event – which I had previously described as the run with nothing to show – no cert no medal. At least they have now worked the cert part, albeit a dash dash version. Maybe, just maybe, we shall be looking at some medals soon.
This is what I shall fill on one of the dashes… a time of 1.34.18. The other parameters such as distance, calories, average speed, max speed, slow speed were not available since I just replaced the bat of the gadget and forgot to calibrate.
11.11am
I alight from the matatu back home at 11.11am. I finally have my T-shirt as a carryon luggage. I collected this T after the run. The organizers had asked me to check before/after the run. I managed to check after the run, and after sms reminder that, “Pick your size small T-shirt as the only ones remaining”.
I was categorical on the application form that I needed a size L. I was even the eleventh athlete to register. How is it possible that I can get a leftover T-shirt of size small?
“You are lucky,” the gentleman at the secretariat office informed me, “I stumbled upon this size M”
Lucky? Really?
Barack Wamkaya Wanjawa, Nairobi, Kenya, July 3, 2016
Sunday, July 7, 2013
Sotokoto marathon 2013 – too much water
Sotokoto marathon 2013 – too much water
Collapsed
I just collapsed on the seat and momentarily dozed off. I tried keeping my eyes open, but the eyelids were just too heavy, so I let them fall. The cause of this state started one week ago, when I logged onto an online site and filled in a simple registration form, followed by an automatic charge of 1,050/= on my bank card. Fast forward to two days ago, when I finalized the preparation by picking a running Tshirt, runner number 2917 and a carrying bag.
Last Friday, on the date of collecting the kit, the runners guide was missing from the package. I notice this after travelling through town to Uhuru Gardens, where I was turned back to AutoExpress, just opposite the gardens, where Sotokoto had setup a registration centre. Without the guide, I had a few questions that the attendant did not have answers:
“Where is the runners guide?,” I asked, after perusing the contents of the bag.
“They are not available”
“Not at all, or they are finished?”
The lady looked at me with puzzlement written all over her face, then, “Am not sure”
“Why are you here if you have no information?,” I felt like asking, but the more diplomatic question that came from my mouth was, “When does the run start?”
As if caught offguard, she looked up once more, from some scribbling that she was doing, in the process of registering another runner, then confirmed, “Am not sure”
I was already counting 10 to 1, and she could sense it. So she added, “I think it shall start 6.30am”
Spoilt for choice
I have to give it to Sotokoto 2013 of Sunday, July 07, 2013 – the course was actually like a river bed, with water, water everywhere. I was so hydrated that I had one of the best runs in a long time. The weather was however chilly, forcing our body systems to take up a lot of energy to keep warm. There were three runs on the cards – 5km juniors and family fun run, 10km open run and 21km main event. The first run started about 8.30am, though the programme, which they gave us as we arrived at Uhuru Gardens for today’s run, indicated that this should have started at 7.15am.
At 8.45am, instead of the scheduled 8.00am, the 10km run was ‘gunned off’, by the Governor of Nairobi County, Dr. Kidero. (It could not have been flagged off, since there was no flag - only a pistol on Kidero's hand). The main even runners trooped immediately behind the disappearing sea of humanity in the 10k run, and started jostling for the vantage front line positions. Threats of disqualification did not seem to move the athletes back to the starting line. In fact the front runners attempted two false starts, much to the chagrin of the organizers. With so much excitement in the air, the organizers somehow managed to push the athletes to the starting line, which was located just outside Uhuru Gardens gates on the main Langata road. Without warning, the starting gun fired at 9.00am, forcing me to push the start button on my split timer. I was at the back of the runners, who were not so many. I would put a figure of about five hundred.
One trick you should learn as a runner is to study the map and formulate a running strategy. I had gotten the runners guide in the morning and had fully studied the route. It was generally downhill for the first 3km, then a gentle uphill to Nyayo stadium, then almost flat on Mombasa road upto the turning point at 10.5km mark. Thereafter, the return route would generally be flat, until the last 3km of uphill to the finish line. The strategy was to take a fairly fast, but comfortable run to the 10.5km mark, then try to maintain the pace back to Nyayo stadium then Mbagathi road roundabout. The final 3km was uphill and needed willpower due to the lowered strength levels that would be expected after over one hour of run.
Running by the book
Alas, the run occurred as per strategy. I left among the group at the back and started to quicken the pace, overtaking a good number of runners by Mbagathi roundabout. By Nyayo stadium, the crowd had thinned out and it was a matter of keeping the pace and running your race. The weather was cold, almost chilly. Nonetheless, water is a must and I picked a 300ml bottle at almost every point, keeping the container at hand till the next water point where I could discard and get a replenishment. However, the water points were just so many that I had to bypass some without a refill, since I still had my water bottle almost full.
This run has no timing chip. Many runners did not do the 21km, in fact the only guaranteed distance was 10.5km, since we had to dip our hands into blue ink in some basins held by organizers at the 10.5km turning point, just near Cabanas. I did the ink dip and U turn at a split time of 0.44.00. There was nothing eventful about the last half of the run, just a torturous stretch of 3km to the finish line. With each passing ‘k’, the body starting getting fatigue. Whenever I discarded an almost empty water bottle, I felt like having thrown away 5kg off my hand. But I had to keep a water bottle handy at all times. I therefore had to live with the ‘5kg’ load.
Despite the good hydration, just like their Nairobi Marathon counterparts, Sotokoto failed to provide the distance markers. In fact the only event was a board with the number 20km, just opposite Wilson Airport, which I interpreted as the 20km marker. But this was a first – a packet of biscuits and another small pack of 200ml ‘yojus’ branded juice. I stopped my timer at 1.32.00.
Win or nothing
Some entertainment followed – music, dance, skits, zangalewa dancers. Finally, the winners were feted. The 2013 honours went to: Valentine Kipketer, Georgina Rono and Purity Kimeto as the top three ladies, while Joseph Colins took the men’s title followed by Philemon Rono and Stephen Chemlany. We were not given information on the final timing, but since I met the leading group on Mombasa road when I had clocked 0.33.00, I suspect the winner shall have a time of 1.00.00 to 1.03.00. The top three were awarded cash prices, being 250k, 125k and 50k respectively. The runner guide indicated that those in positions four to six would also be awarded 30k, 20k and 10k.
Even as more entertainment was unleashed, including some hard-hitting mchongoano, then an interesting Maasai dance, I finally had to leave the venue – with nothing! Yes, Sotokoto had once again, in its 4th edition, since the inaugural run of 2009, failed to give runners anything to show for the run. I even had to hand over the small piece of paper, with number 235 written on it, which I had been given upon hitting the finish line. Surely Sotokoto, not even a certificate of participation if you cannot afford medals?
I shook my head in disbelief, as I was jolted back to reality….
Mwisho
“Uthiru mwisho!, Uthiru mwisho!,” I heard from my subconscious, and struggled to open my eyes. The matatu that had carried me from University Way had reached its final destination. The makanga was asking passengers to disembark.
“Faster, faster,” he continued, as I struggled with lethargy to get out of the matatu.
How did I get here? I started recalling how I woke up in the morning and travelled to town, then Uhuru Gardens, where I arrived by 7.00am. I remember participating in a run. I remember leaving Uhuru Gardens around 12.30pm. Did I even pass by Nyayo Stadium to have a peek at my PO box? I must have got another matatu to town, alighted at Haile Sellasie Avenue and walked past the seats of power – Office of the President on the right and Office of Deputy President on my left at Harambee avenue. That is how I must have walked to University Way.
Wanjawa, W. B. – Nairobi, Kenya, Sunday, July 07, 2013
Collapsed
I just collapsed on the seat and momentarily dozed off. I tried keeping my eyes open, but the eyelids were just too heavy, so I let them fall. The cause of this state started one week ago, when I logged onto an online site and filled in a simple registration form, followed by an automatic charge of 1,050/= on my bank card. Fast forward to two days ago, when I finalized the preparation by picking a running Tshirt, runner number 2917 and a carrying bag.
Last Friday, on the date of collecting the kit, the runners guide was missing from the package. I notice this after travelling through town to Uhuru Gardens, where I was turned back to AutoExpress, just opposite the gardens, where Sotokoto had setup a registration centre. Without the guide, I had a few questions that the attendant did not have answers:
“Where is the runners guide?,” I asked, after perusing the contents of the bag.
“They are not available”
“Not at all, or they are finished?”
The lady looked at me with puzzlement written all over her face, then, “Am not sure”
“Why are you here if you have no information?,” I felt like asking, but the more diplomatic question that came from my mouth was, “When does the run start?”
As if caught offguard, she looked up once more, from some scribbling that she was doing, in the process of registering another runner, then confirmed, “Am not sure”
I was already counting 10 to 1, and she could sense it. So she added, “I think it shall start 6.30am”
Spoilt for choice
I have to give it to Sotokoto 2013 of Sunday, July 07, 2013 – the course was actually like a river bed, with water, water everywhere. I was so hydrated that I had one of the best runs in a long time. The weather was however chilly, forcing our body systems to take up a lot of energy to keep warm. There were three runs on the cards – 5km juniors and family fun run, 10km open run and 21km main event. The first run started about 8.30am, though the programme, which they gave us as we arrived at Uhuru Gardens for today’s run, indicated that this should have started at 7.15am.
At 8.45am, instead of the scheduled 8.00am, the 10km run was ‘gunned off’, by the Governor of Nairobi County, Dr. Kidero. (It could not have been flagged off, since there was no flag - only a pistol on Kidero's hand). The main even runners trooped immediately behind the disappearing sea of humanity in the 10k run, and started jostling for the vantage front line positions. Threats of disqualification did not seem to move the athletes back to the starting line. In fact the front runners attempted two false starts, much to the chagrin of the organizers. With so much excitement in the air, the organizers somehow managed to push the athletes to the starting line, which was located just outside Uhuru Gardens gates on the main Langata road. Without warning, the starting gun fired at 9.00am, forcing me to push the start button on my split timer. I was at the back of the runners, who were not so many. I would put a figure of about five hundred.
One trick you should learn as a runner is to study the map and formulate a running strategy. I had gotten the runners guide in the morning and had fully studied the route. It was generally downhill for the first 3km, then a gentle uphill to Nyayo stadium, then almost flat on Mombasa road upto the turning point at 10.5km mark. Thereafter, the return route would generally be flat, until the last 3km of uphill to the finish line. The strategy was to take a fairly fast, but comfortable run to the 10.5km mark, then try to maintain the pace back to Nyayo stadium then Mbagathi road roundabout. The final 3km was uphill and needed willpower due to the lowered strength levels that would be expected after over one hour of run.
Running by the book
Alas, the run occurred as per strategy. I left among the group at the back and started to quicken the pace, overtaking a good number of runners by Mbagathi roundabout. By Nyayo stadium, the crowd had thinned out and it was a matter of keeping the pace and running your race. The weather was cold, almost chilly. Nonetheless, water is a must and I picked a 300ml bottle at almost every point, keeping the container at hand till the next water point where I could discard and get a replenishment. However, the water points were just so many that I had to bypass some without a refill, since I still had my water bottle almost full.
This run has no timing chip. Many runners did not do the 21km, in fact the only guaranteed distance was 10.5km, since we had to dip our hands into blue ink in some basins held by organizers at the 10.5km turning point, just near Cabanas. I did the ink dip and U turn at a split time of 0.44.00. There was nothing eventful about the last half of the run, just a torturous stretch of 3km to the finish line. With each passing ‘k’, the body starting getting fatigue. Whenever I discarded an almost empty water bottle, I felt like having thrown away 5kg off my hand. But I had to keep a water bottle handy at all times. I therefore had to live with the ‘5kg’ load.
Despite the good hydration, just like their Nairobi Marathon counterparts, Sotokoto failed to provide the distance markers. In fact the only event was a board with the number 20km, just opposite Wilson Airport, which I interpreted as the 20km marker. But this was a first – a packet of biscuits and another small pack of 200ml ‘yojus’ branded juice. I stopped my timer at 1.32.00.
Win or nothing
Some entertainment followed – music, dance, skits, zangalewa dancers. Finally, the winners were feted. The 2013 honours went to: Valentine Kipketer, Georgina Rono and Purity Kimeto as the top three ladies, while Joseph Colins took the men’s title followed by Philemon Rono and Stephen Chemlany. We were not given information on the final timing, but since I met the leading group on Mombasa road when I had clocked 0.33.00, I suspect the winner shall have a time of 1.00.00 to 1.03.00. The top three were awarded cash prices, being 250k, 125k and 50k respectively. The runner guide indicated that those in positions four to six would also be awarded 30k, 20k and 10k.
Even as more entertainment was unleashed, including some hard-hitting mchongoano, then an interesting Maasai dance, I finally had to leave the venue – with nothing! Yes, Sotokoto had once again, in its 4th edition, since the inaugural run of 2009, failed to give runners anything to show for the run. I even had to hand over the small piece of paper, with number 235 written on it, which I had been given upon hitting the finish line. Surely Sotokoto, not even a certificate of participation if you cannot afford medals?
I shook my head in disbelief, as I was jolted back to reality….
Mwisho
“Uthiru mwisho!, Uthiru mwisho!,” I heard from my subconscious, and struggled to open my eyes. The matatu that had carried me from University Way had reached its final destination. The makanga was asking passengers to disembark.
“Faster, faster,” he continued, as I struggled with lethargy to get out of the matatu.
How did I get here? I started recalling how I woke up in the morning and travelled to town, then Uhuru Gardens, where I arrived by 7.00am. I remember participating in a run. I remember leaving Uhuru Gardens around 12.30pm. Did I even pass by Nyayo Stadium to have a peek at my PO box? I must have got another matatu to town, alighted at Haile Sellasie Avenue and walked past the seats of power – Office of the President on the right and Office of Deputy President on my left at Harambee avenue. That is how I must have walked to University Way.
Wanjawa, W. B. – Nairobi, Kenya, Sunday, July 07, 2013
Monday, May 30, 2011
Sotokoto 2011 – held in May but…
Sotokoto 2011 – held in May but…
When I left the house at 8.15am for the morning run, I deliberately put on the Sotokoto marathon T-shirt issued last year. This was to enable me compensate for the third annual edition of the run that I had surely missed. The inaugural run was held on May 15, 2009. The 2010 run was held on May 23.
Bad memories
I had heard little about the Sotokoto Safari marathon since the year began, apart from it being held in May as per tradition. I was not surprised that Sotokoto had not publicised the run. It has been their bad tradition to do everything wrong in organizing this marathon. Take last year for example. They had launched the run about six-weeks to the event and indicated registration centres as AK offices, Equity bank branches, Uhuru gardens secretariat and KWS offices. None of these listed centres were aware of this run weeks after the inauguration. Even the KWS headquarters offices seem to be lacking in details of the registration process. By one week to the run day, only KWS offices were accepting registration and payments, though they did not have the running kits. The kits were availed a day to the run. By run day, registrations were still ongoing. We did not get any medals or certificates. Enquiries one year later have not yielded any information on the fate of the participants certificates. That is what I mean by badly organized.
Revenge
My Sunday run was to be a slap on the face of the organizers. I was confident that the Safari marathon was being held on this Sunday, the 29th day of May. Their lack of proper publicity had prevented me from registering. Nonetheless, there was a good level of satisfaction, as I started my run with the Sotokoto kit. Revenge felt good. I would run my half-marathon at the comfort of the routes that I knew, even as the real Sotokoto took place on Langata road.
I had forgotten to carry my stopwatch from the workplace, having used it last during the Friday mid-day run. Nonetheless, I still had to determine my run time. The wall clock read 8.15am as I left the residential compound for the walk to the main road to start the run about a minute later. I started the run slowly to navigate the busy Uthuri main street, now crowding with church going people and noisy matatus, which have specialized in stopping anywhere in the middle of the road. These same brand have no respect for pedestrians or runners.
No runners
I took the flyover to Ndumbo at a slow pace and headed for the Vet loop at an increased pace. By the time I was through with the loop back to Ndumbo, I had settled on a comfortable pace. I went downhill toward the river, then uphill to ‘tarmac’. The run on Lower Kabete road to Ngecha diversion was uneventful. For the first time during a weekend run, I failed to meet a single runner! I usually meet one or two on this stretch. The Ngecha road to Getathuru road, a stretch of about 10 minutes, was fairly downhill, on road section that is in dire need of repairs.
The Getathuru road towards Kitisuru estate is uphill all the way to the diversion to the river and upto ‘tarmac’. This ten-minutes section was a big stress. At the Kitisuru stage, I pass a group of bystanders. They observe my approach having muted their conversation to let me passby. I glance backwards just in time to see one of them pointing in my direction while saying ‘Wanjiru’.
Thirty minutes after hitting the tarmac, I manage to retrace my route to Ndumbo, back to the Vet loop through the flyover and back to my residence. I read the wall clock at 9.59am. I had just conquered 21.5km - just like that. (G-map says 21.3km, but it does not cater for the terrain. My pedo has averaged 21.8km after about five runs on the route over time)
Happy
I am happy that I managed to do my own Sotokoto marathon in good time – 1.44.00. This is prefect revenge for the actual run that should also be finishing at Uhuru Gardens. After refreshing and even taking a day out to visit a colleague, I was eager to watch the evening news and confirm that the Sotokoto event actually happened. Why the sports news is usually the last part of news still puzzles me. (Probably a proof to humanity that sports issues are more trivial that we make them look). I had to wait until about 10.00pm for the sports news to be broadcast. There was nothing on Sotokoto. Was it because of the Wembley UEFA Champions League finals excitement where Barca trounced Man U, and in good fashion too? (From ‘trounced’ to ‘fashion’ are not my words. That is what the broadcaster said). I was left puzzled by this lack of mention to such an event that should have closed a major city road for over 3-hours.
Last laugh
The event organizers finally had the last laugh, when I visited their website…
Welcome to Sotokoto website – the third edition of the event shall be held on 31st July 2011. Countdown 61days 12hours 36minutes 40seconds.
WWB, Nairobi, May 30, 2011
When I left the house at 8.15am for the morning run, I deliberately put on the Sotokoto marathon T-shirt issued last year. This was to enable me compensate for the third annual edition of the run that I had surely missed. The inaugural run was held on May 15, 2009. The 2010 run was held on May 23.
Bad memories
I had heard little about the Sotokoto Safari marathon since the year began, apart from it being held in May as per tradition. I was not surprised that Sotokoto had not publicised the run. It has been their bad tradition to do everything wrong in organizing this marathon. Take last year for example. They had launched the run about six-weeks to the event and indicated registration centres as AK offices, Equity bank branches, Uhuru gardens secretariat and KWS offices. None of these listed centres were aware of this run weeks after the inauguration. Even the KWS headquarters offices seem to be lacking in details of the registration process. By one week to the run day, only KWS offices were accepting registration and payments, though they did not have the running kits. The kits were availed a day to the run. By run day, registrations were still ongoing. We did not get any medals or certificates. Enquiries one year later have not yielded any information on the fate of the participants certificates. That is what I mean by badly organized.
Revenge
My Sunday run was to be a slap on the face of the organizers. I was confident that the Safari marathon was being held on this Sunday, the 29th day of May. Their lack of proper publicity had prevented me from registering. Nonetheless, there was a good level of satisfaction, as I started my run with the Sotokoto kit. Revenge felt good. I would run my half-marathon at the comfort of the routes that I knew, even as the real Sotokoto took place on Langata road.
I had forgotten to carry my stopwatch from the workplace, having used it last during the Friday mid-day run. Nonetheless, I still had to determine my run time. The wall clock read 8.15am as I left the residential compound for the walk to the main road to start the run about a minute later. I started the run slowly to navigate the busy Uthuri main street, now crowding with church going people and noisy matatus, which have specialized in stopping anywhere in the middle of the road. These same brand have no respect for pedestrians or runners.
No runners
I took the flyover to Ndumbo at a slow pace and headed for the Vet loop at an increased pace. By the time I was through with the loop back to Ndumbo, I had settled on a comfortable pace. I went downhill toward the river, then uphill to ‘tarmac’. The run on Lower Kabete road to Ngecha diversion was uneventful. For the first time during a weekend run, I failed to meet a single runner! I usually meet one or two on this stretch. The Ngecha road to Getathuru road, a stretch of about 10 minutes, was fairly downhill, on road section that is in dire need of repairs.
The Getathuru road towards Kitisuru estate is uphill all the way to the diversion to the river and upto ‘tarmac’. This ten-minutes section was a big stress. At the Kitisuru stage, I pass a group of bystanders. They observe my approach having muted their conversation to let me passby. I glance backwards just in time to see one of them pointing in my direction while saying ‘Wanjiru’.
Thirty minutes after hitting the tarmac, I manage to retrace my route to Ndumbo, back to the Vet loop through the flyover and back to my residence. I read the wall clock at 9.59am. I had just conquered 21.5km - just like that. (G-map says 21.3km, but it does not cater for the terrain. My pedo has averaged 21.8km after about five runs on the route over time)
Happy
I am happy that I managed to do my own Sotokoto marathon in good time – 1.44.00. This is prefect revenge for the actual run that should also be finishing at Uhuru Gardens. After refreshing and even taking a day out to visit a colleague, I was eager to watch the evening news and confirm that the Sotokoto event actually happened. Why the sports news is usually the last part of news still puzzles me. (Probably a proof to humanity that sports issues are more trivial that we make them look). I had to wait until about 10.00pm for the sports news to be broadcast. There was nothing on Sotokoto. Was it because of the Wembley UEFA Champions League finals excitement where Barca trounced Man U, and in good fashion too? (From ‘trounced’ to ‘fashion’ are not my words. That is what the broadcaster said). I was left puzzled by this lack of mention to such an event that should have closed a major city road for over 3-hours.
Last laugh
The event organizers finally had the last laugh, when I visited their website…
Welcome to Sotokoto website – the third edition of the event shall be held on 31st July 2011. Countdown 61days 12hours 36minutes 40seconds.
WWB, Nairobi, May 30, 2011
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Nairobi Sotokoto Marathon II comes with new surprises
Nairobi Sotokoto Marathon II comes with new surprises
May 23, 2010
Nairobi, Kenya
Finishing the second edition of Sotokoto marathon on a new route, with two circuits, in 1.38.50, was a pointer to something wrong with the route or the distance. The last such event on the previous route was conquered in 1.32.55. I noticed the discrepancy when I finished the first circuit in 0.50, instead of 0.45 or thereabout. And as is turning to be a tradition, there was nothing to show for it – no medal, no participation certificate and no official time! We were basically on our own!
When I retired home to rest, I had resolved to give this event no accolades and was ready to have it skip the blog. I was in fact mood-less, having walked from Uhuru Gardens to town after public service vehicles (matatus) doubled fares claiming the roads were closed, yet at this time of the day at 12.30pm, the roads were already open to traffic that was flowing as usual. This added another 8km on my bill. I was not yet over the doubling of fares in the morning as I was heading to Uhuru Gardens. I paid this first fare, grudgingly and with lots of protest. Though I was forced to do this due to my hurry to reach the starting point before time – this being just less than an hour away. My Sotokoto II experience was therefore not worth a big shout.
Missed calls
The phone must have been ringing for ages when I woke up at about 7.00pm. I found about ten missed calls from a familiar number. To settle with the caller, I decided to find out what could the matter be.
“Dad, I have been calling you! I wanted to know your marathon experience!”
“Can someone just sleep in peace!,” is what my mind said, though I answered, “Am tired and asleep, get me tomorrow.” I told the ten year old girl.
“Without your experience am not going to school tomorrow!”
“What?”
“Yes, we have to narrate our dad's day out and if I do not have a story then am not going to school”
Talk about blackmail, on phone!
Glass of water
I was still drowsy but managed to take a glassful of water. (I make it a habit to have water at hand after such runs. The current 3l bottle was about three-quarter downed since I arrived home from the marathon at 2.00pm.)
“Okay, pull the map of Nairobi from your Geography book and I shall narrate as you appreciate the type of run that we had.”
I had some clatter on the other side of the line, then, “I have it”
I asked that the phone be put on speaker for ease of following up the map while listening.
The route
I had informed the princess to put marker points at Uhuru Gardens, Mbagathi roundabout and Nyayo stadium. I explained that the route was generally from Uhuru Gardens through Langata road to Mbagathi roundabout. From there we had about 500m run on Mbagathi road, then back to the roundabout and proceeded towards Nyayo stadium, which we circled using Aerodromes road, Mombasa road and back to Langata road. This route took us back to Uhuru Gardens – our starting point.
As I took a sip of water, I heard the other end of the phone claim that, “That was not so bad – seems straight and not very far.”
“Not so fast,” I cautioned her. “What I forgot to mention was that this route was to be repeated!”
The two circuit route confused both pros and armatures - with the winner confessing that when they faced the second circuit, some members of the leading pack seem to have been in surprise, having expected to be on their way to the finish line. In fact, the website of a popular media house (and the only one) covering the event went ahead and published this... “The 2010 Sotokoto Safari Marathon was a full 42km event after organizers and Athletics Kenya (AK) upgraded it from the 21km distance covered in its inaugural edition last year.” I told you the two circuits had more than met the legs!
Cheating
The run started at exactly 9.00am. I met the leading pack of runners as I did the first circuit just at the Madaraka flyover. I was heading to the stadium while they were on Langata road heading back to the Uhuru Gardens starting point. I was trailing them on the second circuit, where I met them at the Mbagathi roundabout as they headed to the finish line while I still had the Nyayo stadium stretch to do before heading for Uhuru Gardens to finish the run.
One shortcoming that I noted was the lack of confirmation that all runners were doing the two circuits. Unfortunately, most runners who finished the first circuit in over 1.20 just headed for the finish line without attempting the second circuit. (and were ranked as having posted such god times). I had reservations about this two-circuit thing (without timing chips) from the word go – and now I was being proved right. But it seemed that the organizers were only interested in the top 10. These are the ones whom they timed, whom they rewarded and whom they made mention of.
The good and the bad
“So what were the major milestones this year, compared to last?”
I explained that the route was completely closed to traffic during the three hour of closure as promised. This assured safety of the runners. Water was also supplied in plenty during the two circuits on the route and at the finish line, where each finisher was being given three water bottles and subsequent doses of three, if needed. Finishing at the Uhuru Gardens also sounded 'safer' than the finish point inside the national park last time. The running pack also included a cap (for the first time), while the quality of their T-shirts has always been good.
Parading a solar car and using it throughout the route (to prove that it worked) was quite a techonological showcase that rhymed well with the conservation theme.
“... and the bad!”
“Hey you are finishing my airtime!”
“Just in summary”
“There was no giant timer for the leading pack – this was a major omission! Especially being an international event.”
I further narrated the disadvantages of two circuit runs when there is lack of enforcement. Other issues that need improvement:
- there were no distance markers on the route
- the need to provide the finishers with some form of certificates
- the need to come up with some method of timing (the timing chip idea can work)
- better methods of registration (most registration centres were not working or claimed to lack registration materials)
- lack of running kits at all registration centres! These kits were availed on the last day at the KWS headquarters secretariat offices. You can imagine the inconvenience that was caused. It took me about six failed trips to Uhuru Gardens, AK offices, Nyayo stadium offices and KWS headquarters to get the kit. In fact I managed to get the kit less than 24-hours before the run!
The results
“I saw you on TV. You were having a blue short and white T-shirt. Your number was six-something”
“Oh! You did! I was actually on that attire. My race number was 626, though my finishing position of 351. Last time I finished 333, but I know the new route has issues that Google Earth shall sort out tomorrow”
“Google what?”
“Sorry, I shall be confirming the route distance using my internet map. I tend to think that it was longer than 21km. My step counter indicated the distance as 22.31km.”
I was tempted to inform her further that last year's winner clocked 1.02 on the previous route while the current champion (Geoffrey Kiprono Kimutai) did 1.07.55 followed by last years winner (David Tarus) with 1.08.21. This should be proof that this route was about 6-minutes longer (even for the champ). The ladies winner was Hellen Jelagat with 1.17.52, coincidentally followed by last years winner (Irene Jerotich) with 1.19.22, who conquered last year's course in 1.11. The top three winners took home US$15,000, US$7,500 and US$5,000 respectively. The price money however rolled down the top ten with 3k, 1.5k, 1k, 500, 250, 150 and 100 bucks being handed over to the rest of the team.
I however left out these details as they would just confuse her class during her narration next day.
I heard beeps on the line as it went dead. I thought that calling at 3/= a minute was cheap, but after 20minutes, cheap is expensive.
WWB, Nairobi, May 23, 2010
May 23, 2010
Nairobi, Kenya
Finishing the second edition of Sotokoto marathon on a new route, with two circuits, in 1.38.50, was a pointer to something wrong with the route or the distance. The last such event on the previous route was conquered in 1.32.55. I noticed the discrepancy when I finished the first circuit in 0.50, instead of 0.45 or thereabout. And as is turning to be a tradition, there was nothing to show for it – no medal, no participation certificate and no official time! We were basically on our own!
When I retired home to rest, I had resolved to give this event no accolades and was ready to have it skip the blog. I was in fact mood-less, having walked from Uhuru Gardens to town after public service vehicles (matatus) doubled fares claiming the roads were closed, yet at this time of the day at 12.30pm, the roads were already open to traffic that was flowing as usual. This added another 8km on my bill. I was not yet over the doubling of fares in the morning as I was heading to Uhuru Gardens. I paid this first fare, grudgingly and with lots of protest. Though I was forced to do this due to my hurry to reach the starting point before time – this being just less than an hour away. My Sotokoto II experience was therefore not worth a big shout.
Missed calls
The phone must have been ringing for ages when I woke up at about 7.00pm. I found about ten missed calls from a familiar number. To settle with the caller, I decided to find out what could the matter be.
“Dad, I have been calling you! I wanted to know your marathon experience!”
“Can someone just sleep in peace!,” is what my mind said, though I answered, “Am tired and asleep, get me tomorrow.” I told the ten year old girl.
“Without your experience am not going to school tomorrow!”
“What?”
“Yes, we have to narrate our dad's day out and if I do not have a story then am not going to school”
Talk about blackmail, on phone!
Glass of water
I was still drowsy but managed to take a glassful of water. (I make it a habit to have water at hand after such runs. The current 3l bottle was about three-quarter downed since I arrived home from the marathon at 2.00pm.)
“Okay, pull the map of Nairobi from your Geography book and I shall narrate as you appreciate the type of run that we had.”
I had some clatter on the other side of the line, then, “I have it”
I asked that the phone be put on speaker for ease of following up the map while listening.
The route
I had informed the princess to put marker points at Uhuru Gardens, Mbagathi roundabout and Nyayo stadium. I explained that the route was generally from Uhuru Gardens through Langata road to Mbagathi roundabout. From there we had about 500m run on Mbagathi road, then back to the roundabout and proceeded towards Nyayo stadium, which we circled using Aerodromes road, Mombasa road and back to Langata road. This route took us back to Uhuru Gardens – our starting point.
As I took a sip of water, I heard the other end of the phone claim that, “That was not so bad – seems straight and not very far.”
“Not so fast,” I cautioned her. “What I forgot to mention was that this route was to be repeated!”
The two circuit route confused both pros and armatures - with the winner confessing that when they faced the second circuit, some members of the leading pack seem to have been in surprise, having expected to be on their way to the finish line. In fact, the website of a popular media house (and the only one) covering the event went ahead and published this... “The 2010 Sotokoto Safari Marathon was a full 42km event after organizers and Athletics Kenya (AK) upgraded it from the 21km distance covered in its inaugural edition last year.” I told you the two circuits had more than met the legs!
Cheating
The run started at exactly 9.00am. I met the leading pack of runners as I did the first circuit just at the Madaraka flyover. I was heading to the stadium while they were on Langata road heading back to the Uhuru Gardens starting point. I was trailing them on the second circuit, where I met them at the Mbagathi roundabout as they headed to the finish line while I still had the Nyayo stadium stretch to do before heading for Uhuru Gardens to finish the run.
One shortcoming that I noted was the lack of confirmation that all runners were doing the two circuits. Unfortunately, most runners who finished the first circuit in over 1.20 just headed for the finish line without attempting the second circuit. (and were ranked as having posted such god times). I had reservations about this two-circuit thing (without timing chips) from the word go – and now I was being proved right. But it seemed that the organizers were only interested in the top 10. These are the ones whom they timed, whom they rewarded and whom they made mention of.
The good and the bad
“So what were the major milestones this year, compared to last?”
I explained that the route was completely closed to traffic during the three hour of closure as promised. This assured safety of the runners. Water was also supplied in plenty during the two circuits on the route and at the finish line, where each finisher was being given three water bottles and subsequent doses of three, if needed. Finishing at the Uhuru Gardens also sounded 'safer' than the finish point inside the national park last time. The running pack also included a cap (for the first time), while the quality of their T-shirts has always been good.
Parading a solar car and using it throughout the route (to prove that it worked) was quite a techonological showcase that rhymed well with the conservation theme.
“... and the bad!”
“Hey you are finishing my airtime!”
“Just in summary”
“There was no giant timer for the leading pack – this was a major omission! Especially being an international event.”
I further narrated the disadvantages of two circuit runs when there is lack of enforcement. Other issues that need improvement:
- there were no distance markers on the route
- the need to provide the finishers with some form of certificates
- the need to come up with some method of timing (the timing chip idea can work)
- better methods of registration (most registration centres were not working or claimed to lack registration materials)
- lack of running kits at all registration centres! These kits were availed on the last day at the KWS headquarters secretariat offices. You can imagine the inconvenience that was caused. It took me about six failed trips to Uhuru Gardens, AK offices, Nyayo stadium offices and KWS headquarters to get the kit. In fact I managed to get the kit less than 24-hours before the run!
The results
“I saw you on TV. You were having a blue short and white T-shirt. Your number was six-something”
“Oh! You did! I was actually on that attire. My race number was 626, though my finishing position of 351. Last time I finished 333, but I know the new route has issues that Google Earth shall sort out tomorrow”
“Google what?”
“Sorry, I shall be confirming the route distance using my internet map. I tend to think that it was longer than 21km. My step counter indicated the distance as 22.31km.”
I was tempted to inform her further that last year's winner clocked 1.02 on the previous route while the current champion (Geoffrey Kiprono Kimutai) did 1.07.55 followed by last years winner (David Tarus) with 1.08.21. This should be proof that this route was about 6-minutes longer (even for the champ). The ladies winner was Hellen Jelagat with 1.17.52, coincidentally followed by last years winner (Irene Jerotich) with 1.19.22, who conquered last year's course in 1.11. The top three winners took home US$15,000, US$7,500 and US$5,000 respectively. The price money however rolled down the top ten with 3k, 1.5k, 1k, 500, 250, 150 and 100 bucks being handed over to the rest of the team.
I however left out these details as they would just confuse her class during her narration next day.
I heard beeps on the line as it went dead. I thought that calling at 3/= a minute was cheap, but after 20minutes, cheap is expensive.
WWB, Nairobi, May 23, 2010
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