Route 11 run – passing the mock and failing the exam!

Route 11 run – passing the mock and failing the exam!

The boycott

This was a boycotted run from day ‘announced’.  It was initially scheduled for Friday, November 29 but hardly had the announcement sank before we had to reschedule it to a week early.  This was because several ’elite’ runners had informed the MoE* that they would not be participating if the date was not changed.  

It was a quick action on the part of MoE to move the run to November 22.  This was hoped to ‘appease’ the elites, who are usually the main sponsors of this run.  They sponsor by participating and pulling a group along.  Take four of such elites, multiply by the groups that they pull along and you have a big marathon.  Do the converse and you can guess how it shall go.

*MoE – marathoners of expert, organizing committee of the marathons

On that same day that the MoE were rescheduling, there was a call amongst the MoE to scout the route.  As a general guiding rule, the ‘international’ runs cannot be held without a scouting and re-measurement of the route.  This is usually to confirm that the route still existed and that it was at least 21.1km as per international standards.  

The last time this route was in use was during the July International, code name ‘the unveiling’, when we unveiling our branded merchandise.  Five months later and many things could have happened.  These are the ‘many things’ that needed to be discovered in good time, before the run and hence planned for.  You cannot send out an international team of international athletes before the route is confirmed to still be of international standards.  It is a never!

“Hands up anyone who can volunteer to check out the route before next week,” I posed to the MoE.

All hands remained down.

“Surely, we need to scout the route, don’t we?”

Hands remained down.  Voices remained muted.

“So will we just run it?”

No answer.

Scout it out

When I left the starting point on Monday, November 18 to scout the route I did not know what awaited my run.  I had not been on this route since my last ‘half’ on August 7, when I did a 1.43.25.  At that time the Waiyaki way was still being expanded from Kangemi towards Uthiru.  The major works had not yet taken over the Uthiru section.  

I was hoping for the same old situation when I hit it out on this Monday evening.  This was not to be.  I faced the first struggle when trying to cross the now expanded and almost finished up Waiyaki way road section at Uthiru, just after Kabete Poly.

“This shall disturb the runners,” I made a mental note as I waited for more than a minute to get a chance to cross the first section of the road of three lanes, to get to the middle island between the roads.  After the middle island, I had to cross the other side of the road used by oncoming vehicles.  This was another three lane road, followed by a barrier, then yet another two other lanes after that half meter barrier.

“This is worse than I thought!,” I did another mental, though this side of the road was not as busy as the side that I had just crossed.  Nonetheless, one had to jump over the half metre barrier – which was not a comfortable leap when doing a run, or even when walking.

However, the ‘same old’ came back immediately after crossing this wide road.  Just the run as it should be, through Kanyariri road all the way to Nakuru highway at Gitaru market, then a turn to Wangige road for the short half k that then leads to the right road to get you round the market and back to Kanyariri road.  

But turning onto Wangige road brought a new experience.  This half k section was under construction.  The vehicles were being diverted to a narrow side road, while the profile of the once original road was a now a heap of soil and busy heavy machinery.  I even had to stop and re-evaluate my options on how to proceed – either by walking on the drainage cover that was still under construction on my right, or battle it out with the vehicles on the narrow muddy road on the left of the heap. 

Road closed

It did not take long to be told, “Just go through here,” the person who looked like a contractor of the road, due to his reflector jacket, pointed as he responded to my query as to where I should follow to get through.  He did not have any qualms on the narrowness of the temporary road, nor the volume of traffic that I was already seeing struggling to jostle for all the hardly available space.  I was tempted to ask him an “Are you sure” question but thought the better of it.  Aren’t these adrenaline inducing moments, such as the battle with the machines on the road, the fun of the run anyway?

I walked and ran along as I tried my best to get through.  The vehicles and motorbikes were full of hooting and gestures as I went along, opposite their approach.  I finally survived the scare and finished the run.  

After my run, I had informed the MoE of my experience on the road.  They authorized a communique to the runners before the Friday run.  It therefore came as no surprise to those in the inner circle when this information was included in the final call for the run on Friday…

“

Precaution –

1) be careful as you cross Waiyaki way at Kabete Polytechnic, which is now expanded with many lanes and a barrier on one side.  Vehicles have right of way.  Take your time and only cross when the road is clear.

2) the road from Gitaru market towards Wangige is under construction.  All traffic (vehicles, construction vehicles, pedestrians, motorcyclists) have to squeeze onto the temporary narrow side road.  Nonetheless, vehicles (and specifically motorbikes) have right of way – do not dare them. Run easy on this section, or just walk.  Do not dare these machines!!

”

Can’t be happening

By the time of that particular announcement on Friday, everything that could go wrong had already gone wrong.  Even the coach was surely going to boycott his own organized run!  This started on the same Monday that I did the scouting, stopping my timer after 1.42.42 for 21.28k.  All of a sudden, I was just hit by a ‘feel bad’ on my body as I took that shower after the run.  By Tuesday I was already feeling something strange creeping within.  

By Wednesday I was so out of normalcy and I could not even imagine that the Wednesday midweek runs still existed on our three-times a week run schedule.  I saw my two Eng-thoners run it out over the lunch hour while I sat on my desk wondering how it was even possible to run.  I could not imagine treading the tarmac for anything in the world.  

Then the bug hit!  It did so just before I took supper – I just felt the pain on my lower right jaw and it started intensifying with every passing minute.  By the time I had given up on trying to eat due to the pain that accompanied every movement of the jaw, I knew that I was heading for trouble.  But ‘imagining trouble’ and ‘getting trouble’ ain’t the same!

By the time I was about to hit the sack at midnight on the Wednesday, I had fire burning in my mouth!  The pain was pulsating like a heartbeat.  I am even convinced that the heartbeat was responsible for the rhythm of the pain.  I turned and tossed and turned and tossed some more – but the pain intensified with every turn and toss.  It was a night with a mouthmare!  

It was a bad night.  I did not even wake up.  I was awake whole night.  I just got out of bed without knowing my next move.  Instinct was directing me to just try to sleep, though duty was calling.  I also had an important meeting to preside over – one of those that you have planned for, for over four months.

“I will do this and I am out to the doc,” I told my lazy walking body as the pain on my right lower jaw persisted.  I could not eat or drink.  I just walked with a now slightly swollen jaw.  I could hardly talk.  I just pretended to speak normally but I was really struggling.  I did not even try out the plenty of tea and snacks provided for the meeting.  Each item on the serving table reminded me of the anticipated pain if I dared.

“Mwalimu, leo hauli samo?,” a departmental colleague attending the meeting at the new auditorium asked, a mixture of smiles and wonder on his face.

“Later, after masomo,” I responded, struggling to sound normal, a beam on my face.  I was lying.

November is December

I was on the phone with the doc’s clinic immediately after the seminar that ended at twelve-thirty.

“When is the earliest that I can see doc?”

“Let me check,” the respondent stated and went quiet for some time, each second counted by the number of painful pulses passing through my lower jaw, “How about December 4 as per your originally scheduled checkup”

“You are kidding, right!?,” I almost shouted out loud, but I did not.  Instead I did say, “This cannot wait.  I have a new situation”

Another, “Let me check,”, another pause, then, “Kesho at nine, how about that?”

“Can’t it be earlier?”

“Nope, Doc reports at nine.  That is the earliest”

“I will be there.”

I did not eat anything on Thursday.  I struggled with a cup of tea.  Ending up taking it cold after waiting for the ‘right moment’ which never came.  I just had to force it down.  Though my Thursday night was not as mouthmare-ish, I still felt the pain and the swelling was evident.  I was out of the house Friday by eight.  The first matatu that could leave Uthiru took me towards Kawangware, while I did not care paying 50 shillings to town, though I was alighting just at Adams.  I was just in need of a relief.

A brief exam on the dental chair is all that was needed before the verdict was out.

“We have figured out what was causing the pain,” the doc declared.  

I have noted that she liked using ‘we’, just like you do when writing a research paper.  However, I could only see her alone at the upstairs clinic room.

“We have noted an infection that need urgent and immediate attention, otherwise…. Big trouble.  We sense big trouble!”

The known unknown

The x-ray machine that I was sent to, at the downstairs clinic cube failed after only one of the expected three runs had been done.  I was left seated with a heavy lead jacket while the doc was being consulted on the next action.  

While seated, doing nothing, I wondered why humanity calls these rays as x-rays.  In 1895 when they were discovered, they were surely ‘x’, unknown.  But now we know them, don’t we?  Wouldn’t calling them the ‘rays between UV and Gamma’ be too much trouble, or too mouthful?  Maybe be RBUVAG abbreviation would be easier on the mouth?

I would end up being sent for RBUVAG rays, OK, x-ray procedure at Upper Hill and to a pharmacy at Hurlingham!

“Am I your patience or a tourist?,” I almost asked the receptionist.  These two locations were worlds apart!  I however did not have time to care.  

By this time the lidocaine anaethesia had cooled things down.  I was back to almost normal.  I had still not eaten anything since the last failed dinner.  I found myself walking to Prestige, then to Yaya, then to Hurlingham for the medicine.  From there, another 20 minutes’ walk took me to Upper Hill for the RBUVGA rays, sorry, x-ray.  

I was still waiting to be booked for the x-ray when the phone rang.  I ignored the unknown number.  After a short disconnection, it did ring again.  Another ignore led to another ring.

“Eh, Hello, Who is it?”

“This is the chemist.  You left your medicine.”

“Wait, say what?”

“I am calling from the chemist, remember, Hurlingham chemist?  You left your medicine!”

This ‘you left your medicine’ blame was surely their own making.  I had initially wanted to just pick the three packs and shove them into my bag but they insisted on parking them ‘properly’.  The next thing I remember being given was the medical card as I left the premises.

“So I have to go back to Hurlingham!  This is just great,” I murmured even as my name was called to the upstairs x-ray room.

Double walk

I was facing another walk back to Hurlingham, then yet another walk back to Adams to get my matatu back to Uthiru, which were not on the initial plan.  The initial plan would have been to get a matatu at Upper Hill KNH stage and go straight to Uthiru.  

This change of plans did not even consider that I had not yet taken anything, solid or liquid since morning.  These walks were taking out all that I had.  I had already trekked for 10km by the time I stood at the stage just past Adams waiting for the Kawangware matatu.  It had to be past Adams since the road construction had now removed the Adams stage.

It is also at this point of waiting for the matatu that I got the first reminder of the run.  In reaction to the walking stats on Runkeeper, Janet had posted a message, “Yenyewe you can walk fast!”

“I have to make it to route 11,” I responded.

It did not take long before I saw her message on the runners WhatsApp, that she was also joining route 11.

“I shall be doing a virtual run today,” she posted.

“Very funny,” I smiled widely, as I momentarily took my gaze off the phone to look around for any approaching matatu that should take me to Kawangware.  There was none yet.

A virtual run means sitting in the house, with the only run done being the slow walk to the kitchen to fix yourself a drink of your choice while running your fingers through the remote of the TV.  

It was on the same matatu stage that I also saw the other postings by runners who were joining in on route 11.  Edu posted a message on how hot it was at Turkana on Thursday as he did a run there.  His message did not need interpretation.  He was nearer to Ethiopia than Nairobi.  

Beryl had already informed me that she was running in Ug on November 23.  She left it to my interpretation as to whether she would be anywhere near route 11.  Bad news is better left to the interpretation.  It sinks deeper that way.

No run, just walk

I eventually got to Kawangware and could easily have taken another matatu to Uthiru, instead, I did a last walk from Kawangware to Uthiru knowing for sure that ‘Route 11’ was off.  I was just recovering from a strange bug, while my body was in need of carbos and fluids, and hence was not the right candidate for the run.  

My regular participants had either ran virtually, ran far north or ran in the neighbourhood.  Additionally, the elites who had called for change of date had not indicated that they would participate on this new date, a date specifically rescheduled for their benefit!

That message about the ‘precaution’ on route 11 was therefore just a formality.  It would not be of any benefit to anybody.

Two bananas and a glass of soda later, and I found myself starting to be back to normal.  It was now two o'clock.  I was not worrying much since I was now just getting back to taking some solids into my system.  I would assimilate slowly over time.  Maybe try some carbos at dinner?.  Maybe.  

I was not going to run as a convalescent on this serious international.  I would skip it with feeling.  Bad things happen on unexpected days.  That day turned out to be today – just when we are scheduled for an international marathon.

Mock or exams?

When I went to the Generator, the usual starting point of the marathon, at four-forty-five, all dressed up, pretending to be ready for a run, I did not expect to find anyone at the starting line.  I was not disappointed.  It was true.

“Umeona wakimbiaji wowote hapa?,” I asked the sentry who sits at the next block. 
(*Have you seen any runners around?)

“Tangu saa kumi sijaona mtu.” 
(*None)

“I knew it!,” I said loudly.

“Kweli sijaona mtu.  Ni wewe wa kwanza” 
(*You are the only one so far)

My mission was to wish those running well, as I explained my situation and hence why I was skipping the run.  There was nobody to explain nothing to.  I was just standing there, generated, alone!  I therefore just started the timer, for the love of the game, for the love of the team, and flagged myself off for the eleventh international marathon, codename ‘route 11’.  There is no way that this run would go un-ran.  

I was soon on the road running, carbo-loaded or not.  Convalescing or not.  Ready or not!  The run turned out to be just as it had been doing the scouting mock of Monday five days ago.  Same route, same challenges at Waiyaki and Wangige, same 10km of hill and almost the same time – 1.43.14 for 21.26km.  I however failed to score what I did get on the Monday mock which was 1.42.42.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Nov. 22, 2019

Unveiling… more than we bargained for

Unveiling… more than we bargained for

The idea of having our own marathoners running kits was mooted in March 2019, just after the Kilimanjaro international marathon.  It was while on our way back when we were doing reminiscence on the goods and bads of that marathon that the issue of running kits featured.

“Did you see the Swaras?  They retained their attire even in Tee-Zed,” Edu would say at some point.

“True,” Faye confirmed, “I even saw the Jashos there!”

“For the international runners like us…. Eh… we had nothing to show for it,” was all I could say, amid another stretch while nursing the painful legs, even as the minibus sped along the 380km route of the return journey from Moshi.

That topic died at that point, but not for long.  The issue would soon re-emerge on the WhatsApp group, when the members started sharing the pictures of Kili.  That we needed our own kits was now a topic of discussion.  

Many other discussion points ran on that group, but somehow the issue of kits would be back on the leader-board.  In early May we decided to do something about it.  I send a message to the runners.

“… as an expression of interest,” my message continued, “all are requested to send 1k to me for this mission”

By then we had nothing.  Just the desire to have our kits.  We would then progressively move towards discussing designs, and then debate quite a lot on the issue of colour, which would eventually be resolved by a poll won by a simple majority.  The material was fixed.  There was no debate on this.  

The other aspects of the kit would become optional – name of back of kit, flag on sleeve, size, number of Tees needed.  We did not even know whether the k would enable us have these kits, but we had to start somewhere and we were determined to make this happen.  Even our runners in the diaspora – Tanzania – were with us in this project.

Said what?

Many reminders later, and we would collect around fifteen ks.  Many reminders later, and we would have the final poll done and results published.  Many reminders later, and we would have all the information needed for the Tees finally availed to our colleague Ericsson who had volunteered to ensure that the kits were ‘published’.  Then the topic just died again in early July.

The issue of the kits would get back on the radar when the MOE announced the seventh international marathon and settled on July 26 as the date.  The decision was that the kits would be availed to the runners on that day.  However, as late as that run Friday, we did not have confirmation from E-sson that we would get the kits.  

To set ourselves on a plan B, just in case, we had sent a final call to runners and informed them that the kits ‘may be’ provided after the run.  This was a complete change of tone from the strong message of a week before, where we had stated that we would unveil the new kits ‘before’ the run.  In fact, the seventh international was code-named ‘the unveiling’.

Still exists

It is usual for the MOE to scout a route before any marathon, just to confirm that it is doable and that it still exists.  This is especially necessary with the ongoing road construction on Waiyaki way and Gitaru-Wangige roads.  The task of this scouting fell on me, and that meant that I had to do a ‘scouting-21’ on evening of July 12.  

I was able to confirm that the route still existed in a ‘runable’ state and that it still measured 21k, in fact 21.28km.  The scouting was done in 104 minutes.  I reported an ‘all clear’ for this marathon and the announcement was cleared for dissemination to marathoners.

A new introduction was also included in this edition of the marathon – a ‘mock marathon’, open to all runners.  This was to be a 15k course on the route, just to give runners an advance feel of this ‘new’ international route, which has been a route on our event calendar since last year.  

The July 19 mock saw the B-and-B doing the 15.58k to Kanyariri shopping centre and back in 106 minutes.  The mock was also a good prep for the real thing that we would be doing in the next seven days.

Finally, because we have suffered having to finish the runs way too late, when it was too dark, the MOE introduced a new rule.  All runners had a compulsory turn-back whenever the 5.30pm time check got them.  To sweeten the deal, it was agreed that runners who may be beaten by this rule could start their run earlier than the usual 4.40pm start time.

Surely, the MOE had done and considered all aspects of this run.  It was therefore now a matter of just waiting for the run, and hoping to ‘unveil’.

Time flies

The bread that Beryl brought for the evening energizer before the run was still lying on the table when I asked the group of four to start moving towards the Generator starting point.  There was no time to take a final carbo-load.

“You can’t do me like this,” Bee would complain even as she grabbed her bottle of water ready for the 500m walk to the generator.

“Rules are rules,” I reminded her.  We had decided that we would be on the ‘early-starters’ group.  The one that would start at 4.00pm.  Bramuel and Ericsson were the other members on this group.

“Wow, you guys look great!,” Edu complimented loudly, interrupting our preparation to start going to the starting point.  He was having a glimpse of our newly ‘unveiled’ Tees.  He was collecting the balance kits for the team that would be starting at 4.40pm.

“You can say that again,” Bee stated.  Expressionless.  She had just suffered a setback by getting a kit that was smaller than what she had ordered.  The guys had assured her that the kit was ‘quite good’, but she had ignored the voice of three and followed her inner spirit and ‘refused’ to kit up.  She even described its size of ‘tumbo cut’.  Surely, B, how dare you!

As an alternative, she had a run gear that was almost green, but nothing like our very great looking luminous green Tees, which had our choice of name branded on the back.  The Kenyan flag was printed on the left sleeve.

We would get a few more “Wows!” from passersby as we raced to the Generator starting point as the early starters.

Run or wait?

We flagged ourselves off at 4.15pm.  We almost delayed the run and just waited for the 4.40pm group since we were already late for our intended four o’clock run.  Nonetheless, we started our run and our quartet slowly made its way out of the gate towards Kabete Polytechnic and crossed Waiyaki way.  By then Bramuel was on the lead, with Ericsson on tow, while the B-team remained behind by a few metres.  Bramu would drop out of contention by the third kilometer at Ndumbo, leaving our trio to tread it on.

As we started off the hill at 4k, Ericsson overtook our B-team since Beryl decided to reduce the pace to the bare minimum.  I got worried for a moment.

“Are you OK?  Will you make the run?”

I had been on this exact route with Bee hardly seven days ago.  On that day she was tops.  Running up this selfsame hill quite effortlessly.  But today?  Not today.  She was really struggling.

“I am OK,” she said amid labored gasps.  The hill taking toll, “I shall… shall tell… tell you all after… after the run.”

We kept going, upto seventh k at the University farm, where we walked briefly.  Then resumed our run, then walked some more.  This was quite unlike last week’s run, when we actually did run all the way to Kanyariri shopping centre on the 8k.  Nonstop!

“I know… know that I have… have let you… let you down,” she said when we passed Kanyariri shopping centre.

“Why comes?”

“My… my run speed… speed today!”

“Nothing to worry, we shall make it,” I then added a universal truth, “Run days are usually different and no two runs can ever be the same”

While she absorbed the impact of the statement, I looked at the watch that now read 5.10pm and informed her that we had a compulsory turn-back point coming up.  That was going to be a reality unless we got to Nakuru highway in the next twenty minutes.  The fear of the turn-back surely worked, since I now saw B increase pace and start tackling the ongoing hill with new zeal.

“Turning back is not an option,” she said.

“Rules are rules,” is all I could say.

Compulsory turn-back

We reached Nakuru highway at about 5.22pm, a good eight minutes before compulsory turn back.  That meant that we had the all clear to go round Gitaru market through Gitaru-Wangige road and back to Kanyariri road.  That is exactly what we did.  Relief on our faces.

We met Janet and Nick on the uphill towards the Nakuru highway as we finished our circling of Gitaru market.  The time was just about 5.45pm.

“You must turn back,” I told their approaching footsteps.

“Wewe Coach wacha wana,” Janet responded, “Tufike hapa halafu turudi?”

“Rules are rules,” is what I managed to say, even as their footsteps got fainter as they kept going behind my back.

I joined the pace set by Beryl and we started our run back.  We now had only seven kilometers to our destination.  We kept going, mostly running, with the terrain now being downhill.  The luminous upper body of Ericsson remained visible about four hundred meters ahead.  

The announcement

Our run continued until the final hill at Ndumbo.  We walked briefly on the hill and soon resumed our running before the end of hill and continued to the finishing point. 

“Stop the timer!,” I reminded Beryl as we stepped on the ‘Stop’ sign at the gate.  She did stop her timer.  Mine had just been stopped.  The time was 2hr 31min 38sec.  The Endomondo on my phone indicated a distance of 21.29km.

“Now, let me tell you why I was a bit slow”, she introduced the confession time, as we walked to the three other finishers ahead, “I have another hike at Elephant hill tomorrow.”

Our finishing ‘group selfie’ of five would soon show the tired faces of B-team, JV, Ericsson and Phillip.  Talking about Phillip, he was the only one whose Tee had his name printed on the front.

Just when we thought that we had had it all, we would soon be given two unexpected announcements while at the dinner party held after the run.  That Fay is out of our runs for the rest of the year as she joins ‘team diaspora’ was devastating.  Her only consolation was that, “I shall represent you in the Amsterdam marathon.”

The second announcement was unprecedented.  It would be said by the very coach, “I shall also be out of the next three internationals.  I shall be out of Nairobi until mid-November.  I am handing over the reins to Edu.”

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, July 26, 2019

Even three strikes could not stop the Divas International

Even three strikes could not stop the Divas International

After our last international marathon on Feb. 15, code name NLLV, the MOE* had directed that the next marathon would be organized by the divas.  They would choose a date and route.  They would map out the run categories and formulate all the rules.  “Anything and everything is at your discretion,” I recall sending them a confirmatory email in response to how much ‘degrees of freedom’ they could exercise.

Then came the date… they informed me that they had settled on the twenty-second:

“Coach, we have a date,” a caller whom I later recognized to be Fay informed me on my office extension.

“We do?”

“Yes we do.  March 22.  What do you think about it?”

I soon realized that we were talking the marathon.

“Just go ahead.  All rules are on you.  Is it agreeable to you gals?”

“Yes, it was unanimous.”

Soon I would be breaking news on the date on the mailing and Whatsapping groups.  It seemed a perfect Friday for this run.  Just enough time to recover after the Kili marathon, and not so late in the month to prevent ‘end month loading’ from interfering with the participation.  By March 10 we had the initial run rules under discussion – more of the gals telling us about it, while we, the rest of us, accepted them as they came.

It came as a surprise when they released the route maps… and… and the infamous ‘Mary Leakey’ route was back in the mix.  This section has not been featured in any ‘international’ ever since we started the series last year.  This is a route that we avoid at all costs.  After diverting off Lower Kabete road, you are faced with a general uphill on dry weather road for about 3k.  Though you get to run through a shaded area at the University farm, the isolation and loneliness can get to you.

More was to follow.  While we are used to an ‘international’ being a ‘do it or don’t do it’ run, the divas had a new twist to the equation.  They introduced four variants of the marathon.  You read right – four variants.  A 10k run – the usual ‘tarmac’, a 13k run – the usual ‘Mary Leakey’, a new 16k to be 13k + 3k loop on Kanyariri route and finally the full ‘international’ that goes to the 16k route loop back but continues on the new Rukubi road all the way to Gitaru-Wangige road and back.

Then the three strikes happened….

Strike one – an official visitor who had been planning to visit my department for over one year was finally given clearance to travel and chose the week of March 18-22 as the suitable week.  March 22 was to be his final day where he scheduled a departmental debrief at 3.00pm to 5.00pm to be followed by a ‘must attend’ farewell dinner.  Early same Friday, and I would get an invitation email indicating that we shall leave the compound at 5.30pm on pre-arranged transport for this dinner.

It was not long after that particular email that I got a calendar reminder about a Cooperative meeting taking place out of campus at Limuru road ‘from 12.30pm to 4.30pm’.  Travel time between the two locations was at least 30 minutes and worse during the evening traffic jam.  Attending this meeting would mean getting back for the run around 5.30pm.

I would be hit a third time on the same day when I got insider information, being in MOE, that I would be a major participant in the Divas International with two roles – to countdown the run, a task I had done in all the ‘internationals’ and that I would be the ‘first-aider’, which means running with the slower runners to ensure that no one was left behind.

“Please, keep time and do not disappoint,” part of the insider info indicated.

How was I supposed to survive three strikes!  Must all happen on the same day?......

At 4.27pm I ran to the generator adorning my ‘first aider’ jacket to find a big group of runners.  This was the largest group that I had ever seen ‘generated’.  My quick count gave me 15.  Soon others would join in on the countdown to a final number of 21.  All were in high spirits.  The psyche was overwhelming.  The excitement was uncontainable.  I even met a few ‘Kili-thoners’.

“Everyone, line up behind this line,” I pointed out, as I drew an imaginary line.

The runners obliged.  Soon we had some semblance of a lineup.

“OK, we now start the countdown… ten, nine, ei….”

“Stop!,” someone interrupted, “We have not taken the photo.”

The tension subsided as the runners readjusted their state of readiness to take a pose.

“Ahoy! Let us resume the countdown,” I brought order back from the interruption.

“Eight, seven, six, fi…”

“Stop!,” another shout, “Our Strava is not yet ready!”

What is this turning out to be?  A run that will never happen?

The tension subsided once more and runners confirmed, reconfirmed, started or restarted their various gadgets.

“No more interruptions.  This run is happening now in… four, three, two, one – Go.”

We set off at 4.45pm, all runners aware that they had a choice of four different runs on this day.  I stuck to the back of the group as per my mandate.  I would soon be completely left behind, but rules are rules, and roles are roles.  I kept with the last runners at all times and took them to their various turning points, starting with one that I took to Wangari Maathai, then increased my pace to the next group at the tarmac.  As I headed up Lower Kabete road, I did get yet another runner whom I took slowly, walkingly all the way to Kanyariri turn off after conquering the Mary Leakey section.

“I would have been lost in this section,” runner Jully told me as we made a final turn to now run the section through University farm.

“This place is cool but scary,” she reminded me as we savored the shaded trees at the farm, few meters to the tank and exit to the tarmac, “I cannot run alone here.”

“It is a good route, especially with some company.  It is even doable over the lunch hour,” I updated her.

Finally, we got to the tarmac at Kanyariri, where she turned left back towards the finish line, while I turned right to face the full run.  I would soon catch up with JV and friend running for the 16k route.

“That teq that you have been complaining about since last year is available today,” JV reminded me.

“Can’t wait.”

“You shall be blessing the ancestors, as usual?,” she commented.

It reminded me of the ritual, last done sometime last year, when J&B was at the centre of the table.

I soon got their permission to run ahead and that is what I did, as I now faced the rest of the route as the last runner.  At some point after diverting right on Rukubi-Kanyariri road, I found the leading group of Edu and crew already on their way back.  We exchanged our greetings and let them continue their lead while I kept the chase towards the extreme turning point.  Before the extreme turning point I met the final group of runners.  I noticed that Fay, Janet and Beryl were in that group.  Someone in the group handed me a bottle of water as we run in opposite directions.

“Water!,” I told myself in surprise, “This is a first one!”

After my turning point, I continued to race behind the runners and found the last group that had earlier handed me the water bottle waiting for me at the 16k junction.

“Stop!  Pass by here,” Janet called me back.  By that time I was about to pass the group as I kept on running.

I stopped and crossed the road to where this group of runners was assembled.

“We have some fruits,” Fay informed me and pointed to the containers.  This was in front of one of the shops at the cross road and junction.

Sure enough we had some fruits.  Bananas and water melons, already cut down to size.  This was a welcome relief.

I knew that the divas would come up with some surprises, but they had now beaten me twice with these surprises.

We resumed our run as a group and kept going at a steady pace, but gauging each other out so that no one was left behind.  After 2km of run, just next to the Primary school and Mary Leakey turn-off, we were asked once more to stop at a roadside shop.  This was another water stop, where we took bottled water.  Three surprises, completely unexpected, and all attributed to the Divas International marathon.

Though we finished our run quite late, when it was seriously dark, the divas surely over-did it this time round.  They set the bar so high that the upcoming ‘internationals’ have lots to learn from.  By role, I was to be the last person at the finish line.  I took that honour in 2hr 50min, with two other runs just seconds ahead.

Back to my predicaments – how did I survive the three strikes?  Here’s how… I missed most of the official afternoon meeting with the visitor, but this came at the expense of missing out on the marathoners teq party.  I had to miss out on this now well matured teq that we started planning for as early as October last year.  Of course I did attend the chama meeting, but I left the meeting early, around 1530hrs.  A Taxify taxi, sorry Bolt taxi, bolted me fast enough to the compound by 1600hrs.  I had a brief meetup with the visitor for the closing meeting and was at the starting line by 4.27pm.  Finally, being at the starting line at 4.30pm enabled me flag off the run and take up my role as the ‘first aider’.

*MOE = marathoners of expert, the organizing committee for marathons

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, March 22, 2019

The Second Half – 2-1/2

The Second Half – 2-1/2

New Crew

“Don’t let your mind wander,” I warned Beryl, “This is an over two hour run, and you need mental preparedness”

“But how?,” she wondered, as we now set off from the starting point.

We were once again a crew of five, a different crew, running the second ‘international half’.  I thought I had heard some famous song with the same theme, only for Edward to pour water on that assertion by confirming that it is ‘herb’.  Edward was part of the organizing committee of this second run.  The run was specifically held to enable Beryl who missed the last inaugural run on August 10 to finally get a feel of it.

I had once again sent the customary call for run to the marathoners and followed it up with a reminder on the runday Friday - exactly 2-weeks since the last half.  This run dubbed “212” was a ‘21-ver 2’ or ‘2nd1/2’.  Whichever the flavour, the 212 finally arrived and it did so sooner than we thought.  We were to start the run at 4.15pm, with a four-ten assembly time.  Since ‘the last half’ ended almost seven-thirty, we wanted to end this one earlier.  However, as fate would have it, by 4.30pm there was no one but the ‘coach’ at the assembly point.  I started imagining a cancelled run, though I did not have a conviction on whether to go for the run or not, if it turned out that no one else turns up.

No crew 

I made a call to the main gate, using the extension phone at the block near our assembly point.  I wanted to just confirm that none of our runners got confused about the assembly point.  And as sure as the gate is different from the generator, Beryl was at the gate waiting.

“Ask her to come down here.  She has 15 minutes…. late”

When Edward appeared announced with, “I am already here,” though he was late, the trio of us were generally now set for the run.  However, we had to wait for a fourth member whom Edu was recruiting for a first 212.  Momentarily, Roger, another of our runners appeared from one of the office blocks, probably heading home, since it was now past 4.30pm and staff were already headed home.

“That can’t be Roger,” I taunted him loudly, “We are starting our run at your block and you are heading home?.  You can’t do us like this!”

“Aki Roger, usiwe hivyo,” Edu joined in.

“Woishe, Roger, just change twende hii run,” Beryl’s comment was the last straw.

Roger turned back towards the block without saying nothing, I think he said, “Wait”.  He is a few-worded kind a guy.  And as short as the word ‘wait’ is, Roger was joining us dressed and ready for the run.

We set off at 4.40pm just as the staff buses were leaving.  Edu and colleague set the pace, Roger in the middle, while Beryl and I were on the trail.

Slowly by slowly we started off, with nothing to do but run, with nothing to hurry, but time is all we had.

We hit ‘the tarmac’, the usual 5k mark in about 30 minutes.

“Water!?,” I asked Beryl, but she shook her head.  I was carrying both our water bottles.  I took my own two or three sips and kept going.  I know the story of water, and I cannot be taken unawares ever. (Read my 2008 blog on when I collapsed due to dehydration). 

And with nothing to do but run, the mind does wander…..

Wanderland

I see myself back to the hospital at Kawangware.  That was just last week.  The mission was to ‘run out’ a marathoner who as being ‘detained’ in the inpatient facility.  She had been rushed there as an emergency on Tuesday night but was due for discharge on Thursday, after tests on Wednesday that should have led to medication… but did not.  The doc to interpret and treat was not available.  By Thursday morning it was already a family decision to forcefully discharge her.  Though I had the vehicle to ‘take her home’ on Thursday at 8.00am, the medical facility was just playing games.

First, they said that Nelly cannot be discharged unless the attending doc says so, the very attending doc who was last seen on Wednesday morning, and had not yet appeared more than 24-hours later.  The very facility that could not even give a remedy despite Nelly being unable to sleep due to pain.  Secondly, they told us that the discharge could only be done if the opinion of the facility was that the patient has not been attended to, which in their opinion was not an option for now.  Thirdly, they told us that the discharge could as well be done ‘against medical advice’, but still by the attending doc.  Isn’t the world round?

By ten o’clock there was hardly anything happening, with the nurses and admins avoiding the family and giving excuses including, ‘still waiting for the doc’, ‘are processing’, ‘NHIF’, ‘the insurer’, ‘the weather’?  And that is where combined efforts helped, since soon two other relatives joined in and before long a near confrontation was in the works…

“We want Nelly discharged now, or we shall call the press,” one relative told the nursing admin.

“And we are giving you 10 minutes or we shall call the police,” the second one added.

Attempts to cool the relatives down did not work, since soon they were both going into the administration offices arguing and ‘causing’.  Hospital staff were seen in small groups discussing and pointing in our direction.

“Drive off, and don’t allow the Security to check this car,” that is the command that met our driver around noon as we zoomed off the facility heading to another, with Nelly sandwiched on the back seat.

At one we reached our destination.  In this next medical facility at Parklands, we were received through the emergency entrance and were soon in a recovery room, IV in place, tests done and already waiting for results.  Nelly was even smiling some 1hour later, something that she could not do in the last three days.  However, I was left with the duty of taking care of her admin issues, including filing in forms and signing receipts.

“Give me your finger,” I told her, “We need to swipe the card to pay up for the tests.”

The fingerprint technology has its challenges, since by this time Nelly was deep in IV infusion and could not ‘lend a finger’ even if temporarily.

Then… there were this form that I was filling-in on her behalf, before she went for a scan.  It had almost one hundred questions, mostly of the Y-N type.  One of them, “Are you pregnant?”. 

“Of course I am not”, I responded to the question… smiling.

Smiles

“Hey coach, what are you smiling at?  Give me a sip,” Beryl brought me back to reality.

We were now heading to the 9km mark at the junction of Lower Kabete and Gitaru-Wangige road.

“I am not-expectant….,” was my response.

“What?”

“I am not expectant… eh… of these long runs,” I found myself saying.

“And, how do you stop your mind from wandering again,” she asked.

“Just tell yourself something about the run”

“Such as?”

“When approaching a hill, tell yourself that, ‘there is a hill coming up, I shall soon be there, I shall soon be through with it, and I shall do it’”

At 12k mark we left Gitaru road and turned left to join Kanyariri road, where finally Beryl realized where we were.

“You mean this is the famous Kanyariri?”

“This is it,” I affirmed.  “And it is now downhill all the way to the Ndumbo river”. 

Finishing

The five of us were in quite high spirits.  This 212 was much more enjoyable.  I was not tired and our run-walk strategy, especially after the 9k was quite refreshing.  We were not leaving anyone behind and our crew of five was well jelled.  We knew when to speed up and when to slow it down.

For Edward and I, doing a second international, this was no strange route.  If anything, Beryl whispered that Edu had done this same run (behind our backs) last week. 

I remember saying, subconsciously, “Oh, the strength of youth!”

Finally, we were facing the Ndumbo hill, at 18k.  As we approached, I saw Beryl smiling as we reduced speed slightly.  She finally burst into the song, “I am facing the hill, I shall soon be done with it”

“You are a good student,” I told her.

We were at the finish line around seven-fifteen.  We ended the run while dark (again).  However, it is the joy of finishing the run that counts.  That final selfie, that final high five, that last ‘we did it’ chant.

Will there be a third international?  How dare you!?  Or dare you how?

WWB, The Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, August 24, 2018