When running online means ‘running virtually’

When running online means ‘running virtually’

I hardly do any runs over the weekend.  I probably did none in the whole of 2020 – thank Corona for that.  The very corona that had almost 4,813 confirmed cases and 294 deaths on planet earth as at March 11 last year, but now* (March 13, 2021) has afflicted 119,703,834 and killed 2,653,534 globally.  However, I still did manage two weekend runs, being the Kilimanjaro marathon on March 1 and the First Lady marathon in Nairobi on March 8.  After that…. my weekend runs were done.  Corona restrictions, including curfews, masks, social distancing, lockdowns and quarantines ensured that there were no other weekend runs since then.

*worldometers data

It is now one year later, and life has changed so much until I do not expect any more surprises in terms of changes that come about.  One of the changes that has changed our way of life is this new way of conducting meetings, due to social distancing and restrictions on maximum number at venues.  Previously, we had halls full of people, listening and seeing each other on-their-faces so to speak…. and even sorting each other out, depending on the gravity of the subject matter.  That was last year.  That was then.  Now is now.  The new way of having group meetings is now called ‘virtual’ or ‘online’.  It has its bad and ugly.  It is only good if you are the convener, since you must convene anyway, and this may help you to meet some obligation.  Every other aspect of the meeting relies on the bad and ugly of the reality of online meetings.

I have had many of these online meetings since last year.  They ‘sounded’ strange when I started attending them.  They still do, literally, with sound quality usually being a real issue to contend with.  Internet connectivity and the medium of hosting the meeting plays a big role in this aspect of how the meeting shall ‘sound’.  Additionally, the same online meetings ‘look’ different.  Participants are expected to show the visual of themselves (and surroundings) and it does not take long to see why ‘looks’ can deceive.

How many times have you observed a participant, in full view of hundreds of participants, do ‘things’ on video display that you would not expect, appreciate or even condone in some cases?  From bringing person grooming sessions to our view, to making faces and gestures to the camera.  From dancing around to making the meeting to be a family event, even if it is not meant to be.  And by family event, I do mean family event – from the crying young ones and feeding of the same online, from having family agreements (and disagreements), to letting in the whole family into ‘our business’ in the full glare of the lens.

While the visuals would requires an online participant to be keen so that nothing passes their observing eye, sound on the other hand permeates the air whether you are looking at the screen or not.  The speakers soon start crackling as you start hearing things.  You shall hear all manner of stuff during online meetings.  “Keep your microphones muted” is usually the first rule to be thrown out of the window during online meetings.  I believe people like hearing their own voices to confirm that they can still speak.  And did I even mention the echo that goes on and on when a participant is having full volume on their loudspeakers while the mic is on?  Such participants feel nothing!  To them it is just another day online!  Of course, you are also ‘entitled’ to hear all manner of things during those video moments– just add sound to the above scenarios.

I finally had to run into one such online meeting over a weekend and I was not expecting any less, in terms on what I would expect to see and hear.  The meeting did not disappoint!  It has it all.  Unmuted microphones turned out to be the first culprit from start to end of meeting.  That enable me and others to hear everything going on at the different places of the participants.  This included children playing around and even some livestock making their noises.  The video did not disappoint either!  We saw people make their hair, apply lipstick and on some occasions even dress up.  Did I not tell you that there would be no disappointment?  I just like online meetings!

“Keep your microphone muted” was repeated and repeated but that helped, not.  Those who were keen to keep the mics on, did, those who followed the expected etiquette of keeping them off did.  Life continued as was expected, reminder or no reminder.  People behaving in their own ways without a care in the world.  I do like online meetings…. already!

Another aspect of online meetings that did not disappoint was attending the meeting ‘virtually’ – literally virtually, to mean having the meeting by ‘not being there’.  Isn’t that the meaning of ‘virtually’ anyway?  Being at a place where I could observe two or three other participants in their offices, I was able to observe them switch on their computers and join the meeting alright.  I then saw them leave their offices, never to be seen again, despite the audio of the ongoing meeting coming out of their offices.  They had joined the meeting ‘virtually’… by not being there ‘physically’.

But do not take my word for it.  How do you explain the absence of a participant when they are called upon to respond to an issue during a meeting, before the convener gives that customary ‘sorry, they are not there’, when for sure we can see that their online presence is live and active?  Does it not just mean that they are not there anyway?  And finally, voting online is a fallacy.  The voting tools favor the tech-savvy, being those who are ‘well-connected’ and those with ‘quick hands’.  That is the only way you can vote using online tools with a two-minute time limit.  Apart from that, how do you even restrict people to vote only ‘any two’ out of four, when you have no control over the number of times they can vote?

Finally, though I had already stated my finally above, but this is surely the final ‘finally’.  So, finally, online meetings expect participants to participate by text messages on a forum.  The participants are expected to raise questions that should then be answered by the conveners.  This is where the final rip-off occurs!  The biggest scam since corona is right there!  The organizers of such meetings usually select the issues they are comfortable responding to, and blatantly ignore all the rest of the ‘weighty’ issues, brushing them aside as ‘there are no more issues on the chat box’!  

As we celebrate this new normal of online meetings, let us just be prepared to run them ‘virtually’, if you know what I mean.

WWB, the coach, Nairobi, Kenya, March 13, 2021

Marathon 2017 - the 10 runs

Fellow marathoners,

Happy New Year 2017 and welcome to yet another exciting run year, though we are already 4-months deep into the run calendar, which starts November and ends October, when we do the International marathon.

Let me give you a sneak preview of the major 2017 runs on our calendar:

1. March 12, 2017 (Sunday - confirmed) – First Lady’s marathon – Nairobi/Nyayo stadium. Registration is already open, early bird@1,000 until Jan. 14, thereafter 1,600 on site or 1,250 online until Mar. 5.

2. May (week 2-3) – Mater Heart Run – Nairobi/Nyayo stadium – Registration is 1,000 (Tshirt), can add 700 (shorts), 400 (caps)

3. June 24, 2017 (Saturday - confirmed) – Lewa marathon – Nanyuki/Lewa conservancy – Registration is $250 (*with additional minimum fundraising of $1,500 per person?)

4. July (week 1, likely 8th) – Sotokoto marathon – Nairobi/Uhuru Garden – Registration (online only) is 1,000 + 50 transaction fees

5. September 10, 2017 (Saturday – tentative) – Ndakaini marathon – Thika/Ndakaini dam – Registration is 1,000 (amateur) or 1,200 (elite), usually a 200/= discount offered for online registration.  Add 700/= if you need transport from Nairobi to and from the venue.

6. September (week 4) – Menengai marathon –Nakuru/Nakuru town – The last time I heard of it was 2015.  It seems not to have taken place in 2016.  It is doubtful for 2017.

7. October 29, 2017 (Sunday - confirmed) – Nairobi International marathon – Nairobi/Nyayo stadium – Registration is 2,000 (online registration and payment only)

8. November (week 3-4) – Kass marathon – Eldoret/Eldoret town – Registration is 500, then add transport and accommodated in Eldoret before (and after) the event

9. November (week 4)– Kakamega Ingo marathon – Kakamega/Kakamega forest – Registration is 1,000, then add transport and accommodated at ‘Ingo’ before (and after) the event

10.December (week 1 & week 3) – Kisumu marathon (Dec. 1 run and a separate Safaricom run) – Kisumu/Kisumu town

*according to information on the organizers website

The menu is so full that I am full already!

I advise all runners to target one non-competitive run (Mater run) and any other three major marathons.  I see First Lady, Sotokoto, Ndakaini and Nairobi Marathon as being the easier ones to participate in.  I am set for them this year.

*Latest news (through an email message that I have just got from the organizers)- The 2017 edition of the First lady’s run, which was to start us off has been cancelled.  This is a run that I had already registered for.  A press release from office of the FL reads in part that, "...This year, I was looking forward to running yet another marathon - a Gratitude Marathon.... However, I have never been willing to politicize this agenda.  As a consequence I feel it necessary to cancel the First Lady's Half Marathon this year."  The message further confirms that the ultimate goal of the cause is to build the Beyond Zero Referral Hospital.  This is a goal that I support as a Kenyan.  I was looking forward too for this year opener marathon, but this is not to be.

Nonetheless, let us now focus on the Mater-Lewa-Sotokoto trio.

WWB, Nairobi, Kenya

FLHM 2016 – A good run with a chaotic end

FLHM 2016 – A good run with a chaotic end

Early

I was in town early.  I left the house at 5.30am and walked to the highway.  Being a Sunday, there were few vehicles at the highway, but was lucky to board a matatu at 5.50am that did not waste time on the road.  I disembarked at 6.10am and walked from Odeon towards Kimathi house.  I then walked on Kenyatta Avenue to Nyayo house and joined Uhuru highway all the way to Nyayo.  The roads were already closed from Kenyatta Avenue and the whole of Uhuru highway from Nyayo (house) towards Nyayo (stadium).  A few runners, evident by their running kit, the Tshirt of which had a big portrait of the first lady on the back side, were already enjoying life of the closed road as they headed towards Nyayo.  All of a sudden there was a siren behind me, and before long, a big car almost knocked me off the tarmac.  I was lucky to see a convoy of over ten vehicles negotiate the Haile Selassie roundabout towards Nyayo.

“The road is closed for crying out loud,” I cried out loud!

As I approached the stadium I saw the big cars parked beside the road.  I was in time to hear the flagging off of the 10km wheel chair race, which started at 6.30am prompt.  I still had 30 minutes before my run.  I counted the cars – 14 big cars and 4 limousines – even if it is power!

There were no washrooms around the starting point, so I had to get into the stadium compound, where there were just a few Excloosive portables.  How did they expect to manage the ‘water out’ needs of the expected multitude?  I started sensing some form of impending crisis, but there probably was a plan B.

I hanged around the stadium compound to about 6.50am, when I started making my way to the starting line outside the stadium, on Uhuru highway.  I cannot express my chagrin when I headed to the exit point only to be turned back that it was closed.  This was the nearest exit to the starting line.  I had even used it to get to the stadium less than ten minutes prior.

“So, what gate do we use?,” I asked, as other runners behind me benefited from this query.

“Eh, I don’t know… Maybe…. Eh…,” the unhelpful person responded!

“Sasa nini hii!  You people are so disorganized!,” a lady runner behind me could not hold back.

There was no time to argue.  The only way out was through the entrance gate to the stadium, near the Police post, next to the Basketball court and Swimming pool.  Then one had to make their way back to the starting line – as if going round to just get to where you are from!.  I had to run, with only five minutes remaining.

Watery course

The run just started while I was recovering from the short sprint that I had just done from inside the stadium compound.  The weather was good – cool, no sun, a bit cold.  The start time was new on this course.  I am used to starting at 7.30am.  Of course I started at 7.00am when I was doing the three 42k in 2008-10, but it has been ages since I started a run this early.

The run to city centre, then Kenyatta Avenue to NSSF building was at a good pace.  We turned to get into Uhuru Park and benefited from the first water point at the 3km mark.  This was timely, since immediately after that point was the Upper Hill section that runs from the park all the way to Kenyatta Hospital.  From the hospital back to Nyayo is generally flat, with some mild uphills.  There were about five water points on this Nyayo to Nyayo stretch.  I was at Nyayo in about 43 minutes.  This was to be the 10km point.  Was I that fast?  Were records going to be broken today?

The turn to Mombasa road was something I was expecting.  In fact I even knew its profile.  This would be a 10km circuit, followed by the final 1km to the finish line.  In my mind this was the ‘tarmac’ route, which I have run often when practicing.  It is exactly 10km and a circuit too.  I just tuned myself to the feel and imagination of ‘tarmac’ and just let myself flow.  (Though this route has nothing compared to the hills on the ‘tarmac’).  In five kilometers I faced the extreme turning point, after only two water points.

“Discrimination!,” I thought of shouting.  How do you provide five water points for the first 10k and only two for the last 11k?

“Dip you fingers in the ink!,” someone shouted from ahead, interrupting my mind that was on the ‘tarmac’.

“Make sure you dip your fingers in the ink!,” someone else reminded us?  Yes, reminded us.

I saw about three stretched out basins, with some bluish fluid.  I dipped in my left hand, reluctantly, as I ran to the turning point and started my last 6km back to the stadium.

In this era of timing chips, one of which was surely affixed on my race number 7794, who still dips their hands on ink as proof of adherence to the run circuit!

Since the first lady was running the 10km (could it be that they did not care much about the rest of us to even provide more water points because we were on our own!), the 21km route was relatively uneventful.  Last year there was a continuous stream of security forces all along the route – but that was last year – and she was running the twenty-one thousand meters then.

I reached the stadium just as the first fast 10km runners were finishing off their run that had started at 8.00am.

Though I finished the run and stopped my timer at 1.32.56, the overhead LCD at the finish line was displaying 1.30.50.  On this run, I trust my timer, but miracles still happen that the timing crystal in the watch may have been faster by 2 minutes? – No way, I still trust my timer.  How about the distance – 20.85km.  Well, I still trust my timer – but let us wait for the official results.  The ‘gadget’ provided me with the run stats as follows:

Date – 06-03-2016

Time – 1.32.56

Distance – 20.85km

Speed avg – 13.5 km/h

Speed max – 31.5 km/h

Cal/h avg – 1054 kcal/h

Cal/h max – 2131 kcal/h

Calories – 1633 kcal

Time in zone – 00.23.05

Km01 – 4.35.89

Km02 – 4.16.17

Km03 – 4.17.22

Km04 – 4.43.41

Km05 – 4.57.38

Km06 – 4.40.49

Km07 – 4.16.73

Km08 – 3.58.23

Km09 – 4.20.14

Km10 – 4.24.11

Km11 – 4.28.09

Km12 – 4.29.57

Km13 – 4.08.78

Km14 – 4.21.57

Km15 – 4.32.05

Km16 – 4.29.08

Km17 – 4.28.57

Km18 – 4.33.05

Km19 – 4.26.10

Km20 – 4.48.44

Km21 – 3.41.22

Chaos 1

After the finish line, runners were being directed to the terraces.  No one had an idea why there was a queue at the terraces.  I just joined the queue of sweaty runners.  Another queue formed up, and someone shouted, “Ten kilometers”, in the direction of this second queue.

For some reason, the queue that I was on, the 21km queue, was not moving at all.  After staying on the same spot for some 30 minutes, runners become agitated and started shouting.

“What is going on!,” a chorus shouted.

“Give us certificates on the queue,” some follow-up shouts.

“Give us medals.  To h**l with certificates,” yet others.

I then came to realize that the queue was for medals and certificates.  A first one, since they did not honour the runners last year.  Thinking about it, I deserve two sets, to compensate for last year or…

My thoughts were cut short when a scuffle ensured on the 10km queue.  Water bottles were being thrown in the air while tables and chairs were evidently flattened, from the sound that was coming from that direction, just five meters to my right.  Our own 21km queue got messed up momentarily as people feared for a stampede.  I lady runner stumbled and fell on a table top that had them thrown towards our queue.  A plastic chair rolled following the table and crashed on the legs of those on the 21km queue.

After some hullabaloo, peace was restored and whatever was going on, continued going on.  Meanwhile, there was no movement on our queue, while the crowd of runners kept swelling.  I observed some contributors to the lack of movement – someone was for a second time, reading the runner bibs and recording the numbers on a paper.  He was at the queue and each runner had to find him or vice versa.  What was this for?  First the ink that was never checked and now scribbling numbers on a piece of paper! 

But that was not all – some other lady was putting a tick mark using a felt pen on the runner bibs too.  What the *?.  And to add tiredness to tiredness, after being issued with blank certificates, the calligraphers were just next to the issue desk taking their time to pen down each name, a process that involved one fishing their ID card, to ensure that the right name spelling was captured, then taking their sweet time watching the artists do their thing.  (And I can tell you for free that art takes time!).  Then they had to pay the 50/= fee and in many instances wait for change!  The worst thing you can do at the head of a queue!  Go write the damn certs at home using a biro pen for crying out loud!  (Or at least write on them somewhere miles after the issue desk!  Simple non-common sense!).  All these conspired against us to keep us on the queue forever!

Chaos 2

The peace did not last long, since after this first scuffle, more runners came to join the queue, now that the two major runs were coming to an end and the mid-pace and slow-pace runners were getting to the finish line.  Even the first lady was finishing her run, this being around 9.30am.  I had stood at the same spot for almost one hour!  Things were bad.  This was the most disorganized medal issue point on the planet.  I thought of even giving up on this medal issue thing and going home.

An evidently agitated NYS staffer, in full regalia, started commanding runners around.  He was at the 10km section.

“Songeni nyuma au nisukume nyinyi*,” he said, pointing at the sea of runners on and around the 10km runners queue.  It was more of a 10km runners congregation.  There was no queue at all.  None, I tell you.

(*Move back or I shall push you back)

“You did not run!  We are the runners!  We are tired!  Give us our medals now!,” the crowd roared back.  They did not attempt to move at all.

He stood on something to make his frame more distinct.  He was by then joined by five or six other staffers of NYS.

“You over there, move back!,” he tried to command, while pointing somewhere in the sea.

“Hapana!  Hatusongi.  You did not run!,” came the response.

“Waiguru,” another runner shouted from the crowd, causing momentary laughter.

‘Momentary’ is the word, since the second scuffle ensured when he pushed a runner back.  The other runners surged ahead and almost ran over the contingent from NYS.  No chair or table was left standing.  There was shouts and runs all over.  There was near stampede.  Water bottles were thrown on top of peoples heads again.  There was total confusion!  Blows were exchanged!  There was total chaos!

Somehow, things came back to normal and the situation was calm once more.

Chaos 3

It was now time for our very own 21km to be messed up.  A big crowd just joined from nowhere and we no longer had a queue.  We ended up with a congregation.  Nobody was moving.  Nobody knew what was going on and the agitation was evident.

At some point, there was a semblance of a queue.

“I am not running this event ever,” the runner ahead of me told the air.

“They should have let Standard Chartered marathon organizers take over,” an equally angry athlete responded to the first one.

There was small talk on how Nairobi marathon aka Standard Chartered marathon was miles ahead in organizing such events.  But give credit where due.  The FLHM is trying, being just in the third year while Nairobi marathon has done thirteen.  However, the small talk was not convinced that experience was to blame.  After all, you do not have to experience all instances yourself – you can learn from others – that is what FLHM is currently lacking – the ability to learn from the best.

Chaos 4
“They did not even give us bags!,” someone added to the list of misery.

“Yes,” another one joined in, “Not even a runners guide!  They could not afford to give such a simple booklet!”

“The website did not even show the starting time of the runs!,” someone reminded us.
“TShirts of size Large or XL were also missing.  Imagine they gave me the option to pick either a Small or XXL instead of Large.  Can you imagine?,” someone else shared.
“That's not all,” someone gave a rejoinder, “There were no kits at Nyayo stadium from 24th Feb or even at KICC, yet they had asked runners to collect from 24th”.
“Do not even remind me of the misery,” a runner shared, “I was at Nyayo on 27th but nothing.  Even at KICC there was nothing until 1st”.
“Sikimbii tena.  Never!  Umechoka halafu you queue for one hour!  Sikimbii tena hi mbio ya first lady,” another disappointed runner added.

One and a half hours after finishing my run, I managed to get a blank certificate of participation, signed by Her Excellency.  I also managed to bag my first medal in 2016.

As I walked back to city centre with Mandy, a colleague at the work place, who ran with the first lady on the 10k, we had lots of experiences to share.

What a run!  Would I do this run again?  Maybe one more time, just to see if the medal issue debacle recurs.  It was something worth writing about.

Barack Wamkaya Wanjawa, Nairobi, Kenya, March 6, 2016

Reviewing 2015, with a Certificate

Reviewing 2015, with a Certificate

The certificates are out – 1.36.46 is the official time for my 21km run at Nairobi Marathon 2015 held in October.  The gadget had given me a 1.36.55.  That means that I can now trust the gadget for my runs going forward.  It reminds me of the run in that I recently had with a local school administration.  We had gone for a fund raiser, where we were urged to donate, “kwa moyo mchungufu”.  By that time, a 30k-per-student had been imposed as ‘compulsory-voluntary’ contribution for school building projects.  Another voluntary contribution of a ‘one-off’ 35k that every student ‘must’ pay was included in the fee structure for 2016.  I do not mind building schools, or any other development project for that matter.  It is the trickery they use to get the fund raising going that gets to me.  Why can’t they just be forthright and state that, “the budget for construction of a new block is this much and we need to get the money from the students” – straight!

Straight
Talking about straight, the year is coming to an end and I need to set the record straight as far as my 2015 runs are concerned.  Let me revisit the first lady’s marathon in March – Sunday, the eighth to be precise.  A good run, good weather, but no certificates were forthcoming for so long that I gave up on ever getting one.  My only regret is their ‘strong’ promise of certs immediately after the run.  I can swear that the organizers swore to have the certs ready after the run – why promise what you cannot deliver?.  But the run is for a very worthy cause, hence their breaking of promise is not a big deal.  I also cringe to see a select team of runners parading medals, yet all ordinary runners know that there were no medals on offer!  Liars!  My run time then was a 1.34 to 1.36 range.  Read the blog story as to why I am convinced of this range.  

(Oooppsss!  Spoke too soon!  I have just input my runner no. 1008 on the organizer’s website now, and to my surprise, my certificate is available with an official time of 1.35.04.  I also observe that the next edition (3rd ed.) of the run has already been fixed for Sunday, March 6, 2016.  It is now the time to give it a ‘come-baby-come’, sorry, ‘come-marathon-come’ shout out!)

Then came the Mater Heart Run on Saturday, May 23.  The run that ‘pretends’ to be 10km, yet I know better.  Since when did I run a 10k in 36minutes?  I know that I am fast, but that is stretching it.  Let me honest – that run is 8k or thereabout.  10k – no way!  This is not competitive – just a family fun run to partner with the Mater Hospital as they fund-raise for their corrective heart surgery programme for the young ones.  I finished the run ready to run, but it was all over.  I got a blank cert!  So that I can do the honours!  However, it has no provision for the run duration.  A simple, ‘Certificate of Participation – This is to confirm that _____ participated in the Mater Heart Run held on Saturday, 23rd May 2015 at Nyayo National Stadium, signed For The Mater Heart Run. Thank you’.  It is still blank!

Medals
The next competitive run was the 12th edition of Ndakaini half marathon, held on 12th September.  I know the run edition and the date due to the rhyme in numbers.  I was doing a third attempt… and the run did not disappoint.  It lived up to its expectations as ‘the toughest marathon on planet earth’.  The hills!  Nonetheless, I had a very good run, with the gadget giving me a 1.48.25.  This is the other run where you do not get a cert.  Just forget it.  I had initiated communicate with the organizers about my last two certs, but the email trail grew cold when they promised to ‘get back to me soon’ and never did, despite three reminders.  Just like FLM of March, you do not get a finisher’s medal.  That is why I call it a run with nothing to show.

I cannot believe that I have to do another ‘Oooppsss’!  I am surprised to see that the certs for 2014 and 2015 are on the organizer's website.  I know I have visited that site many times, hence this must be a recent development – and development it is!

The 2014 run cert is elaborate: 
11th UAP Ndakaini Half Marathon held on 13th September 2014
Distance covered – 21km
Overall position – 248
Time – 01.46.36.56

The 2015 cert is...
12th UAP Ndakaini Half Marathon held on 12th September 2015
Distance covered – 21km
signed

Is this a joke or what!  Where is the position?  Where is the time!?  At least the main search page gives me position ‘X’ with a time of ‘0.00.00’ – the fastest run ever, a flash!

And... I am also used to having a rainbow of spelling for my name – the two Ndakaini certs have 4 different names.  

The winner
Finally, the Nairobi International marathon, one of the best organized marathons in this country – they have everything going for them.  In the 13th edition, my 9th participation, I still managed to bag a medal and a certificate – the only run that gives me something to show!  The October run was quite good, apart from the impostor who wanted to claim silver in the 42km run, only to be discovered at the nick of time.  It is his confession that gave him in, otherwise the other ‘evidence’ could not hold.  They accused him of ‘not being sweaty’ after such a long run.  He was also accused of ‘shoes not being dusty’! (surely)!  However, his own confession that he was in financial distress and needed a quick 0.65M to sort his issues out is what saved the day.  Though the winner of the men’s event pounded the tarmac for 2.13.25, while his women’s even counterpart did the distance in 2.29.32, the impostor just sprinted behind the winner from outside the stadium and wanted to claim silver.  The real silver winner would not take that!

It is time to do strategy 2016 – where I had been ‘forced’ to ‘move over’ to the next run, so that I can ‘create space’ for those who want to give the 21km a try.

Barack Wamkaya Wanjawa, Nairobi, Kenya, November 19, 2015