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