The May international in June – when the pain is delayed

The May international in June – when the pain is delayed

The pain would come in two days later.  I had thought that the worst was gone, but how wrong could I be?  I could hardly wake up this Friday, two days after the run.  My legs were hurting, especially round the knees.  I knew that it was that Wednesday run.

On that Wednesday, two days ago, I had started my run at 12.30pm on the dot.  The weather was great, with just the right intensity of sun.  The air was, however, a bit still.  I would have preferred some windiness.  There was no breeze, but it was a bit cool.  The sun was still suffering from the defeat of the long months of rain that persisted most of April and May.  School reopening date even had to be postponed by a week due to these selfsame rains that had rendered the country mostly flooded.  The rain clouds had now generally retreated and left a dry spell that had lasted for over one week.  The last real rain must have been at the end of May.  The sun has since been progressively trying to shine back to its glory while the rain clouds subside.

This lunch hour was no different.  The clouds were still trying to stop the sun rays at intervals as I started the run.  The run started well and I already had an idea of the run distant.  I was cognizant that I had missed the May marathon that was to be held on May 31.  I was however on a bus for the long 8-hour trip to Western Kenya on that marathon Friday.  I had for a moment thought that I would skip the May marathon after that miss.  However, I was sticking to the marathoners motto of ‘running is a must’, and here I was, finding myself doing a compensatory marathon on this twelfth day of the month.

“If you want me to cancel a run, then ensure that we do not cross the gate,” I have been telling my folks, and that saying remained true on this day.

I started feeling a pain on my right wheel as I started the run, hardly before reaching the exit gate.  This was just after a short warmup run of 4kms.

“Let me just push it to Kabete Poly and see how it goes,” I lied to myself as I exited the gate.  

I knew that an exit through that gate meant that I was going for the full run – come rain, come shine; come pain, come relief!  But do not take my word for it.  It was just last month during a similar compensatory run that I was rained on most of the way, and I still survived.  Sanity could have called for a dropping off, but the spirit of ‘running-is-must’ could however hear none of that.

The leg pain persisted to the 7km mark at Ndumboini market.  From there on I got some relief as I went downhill towards Wangari Maathai institute down onto Kapenguria road all the way to the river.  I would then take the 1km uphill on the same road to join Lower Kabete road five minutes later.  The sun was still overhead.  The air was still still.

I turned right towards UON Lower Kabete campus, and kept going.  The road was generally deserted of walkers, though the vehicular traffic of occasional matatus and mostly private vehicles traversed the road at intervals.  I approached two cops armed with Kalashnikovs just before the campus, also walking on the sidewalk heading the same direction.  

I thud my feet loudly as I approached their backs to alert them of my approach.  I did not want an incident where they pretend to have been run-towards and had to ‘do something’ in self-defense.  They both momentarily turn back as I get within range and soon after, overtake them.  I benefit from their “anakimbia na hii jua” comment.  I am happy that the complement is a bit mild this time round.  I have heard worse description of runners before, let me just leave it at that.

I keep going.  I meet a crowd of people around the campus.  I am running on the opposite edge of the road next to the campus compound, but even on this opposite sidewalk I do encounter people who look and behave like college students.  If it looks and behaves like one, then it is one!  But trust me, I know, have been there.  Same uni, different campus.  

Who else can display the following behaviours, if not the students?  To start with, I approach a group of three guys all of whom are walking all across the narrow one metre wide footpath.  And, do you expect them to give way?  No way!  They force me to leave the sidewalk and get around them through the rough grass patch between the tarmac and the sidewalk.  I feel like being angry, even uttering a curse, but I force myself not to.  It is the age.  

Soon thereafter I encounter another group of about five.  By this time the campus gate is just on the other side of the main tarmac.  These five are chattering and laughing loudly and animatedly.  They have no care in the world.  The world is theirs.  They almost remind me of that, and I guess are ready to tell me to ‘runner bow down’.  They even give me the benefit of a story about what they did over the weekend.  It is more of who did what to who, but I do get to listen to the eventualities, since my footsteps are already retreated.

I soon pass by that hullabaloo of the campus gate area and keep going towards Kenya School of Government, and soon out onto the leafy surburbs of Lower Kabete with hardly any walkers around.  I keep going.  The run is now imbedded into my system and I have reached cruising level.  I am just going through the motions in this quiet environment.  

I pass by the Farasi group of roads, one after another, that is, Farasi road, Farasi close and Farasi lane.  It is a relief when I finally get to Ngecha road junction just next to Zen gardens.  I check on the tower clock at the junction.  It is now 1.40pm.  I know that I have another kilometre or so, before I do the U-turn.  I keep going on the Lower Kabete road and then divert to Spring Valley road for the short run to the U-turn point above the Red Hill road.

It is a welcome relief to do that U.  The run is now at least halfway done.  I now just need to survive the run back.  I am still energetic and rearing to go.  The weather has remained good so far.  My good fortunes however come to an end when I am back to Lower Kabete road and now have to do an uphill run all the way to UON campus.  That is a whole 5km of uphill.  I persevere and persist.  I am, however, getting tired and I can feel it.  I wish for a sip of water, though I have none.  I wish for a shot of coke or a bite of a melon, but those are just wishes on this Wednesday.  I almost start losing my senses as I pass the campus heading back towards Kapenguria road.

One thing you learn as a marathoner is to learn to listen to your body and know when it can easily give up on you.  This giving up is sometimes called ‘hitting the wall’.  I start imagining that I may hit the wall.  My situation is just due to the dehydration.  I had underestimated the effects of the heat of the sun.  It seems to have been sucking the energy and fluids from me for over two hours now.  I am also losing my sense of perception.  

I know that I shall soon be on free fall if I do not do something about the situation.  I deliberately switch the phone that has my timer, from hand to hand in short intervals, just to keep my senses engaged.  That action, after about ten reps, brings me back to reality just as I reach the river in readiness for the 2km uphill run to Ndumbo.  I almost give up when imagining that Wangari Maathai hill, but I also envisage the relief from the cool orange juice in my fridge and keep running as I look forward to how it shall bring me back to life in another 20 or so minutes – if I make it.

And making it I do, when I finish that devastating hill and now has only the short run along Waiyaki way, then past Kabete Poli(ce) then Kabete Poly(tech) and soon to the finish line.

“Leo kweli uliwezwa,” the sentries welcome me back laughingly as they open the gate as I head to the finish line.

I am too tired to even respond in affirmation.  I do not even know how I get the energy to wave back in resignation.  I soon thereafter reach the finish line and collapse on my seat wondering, “Why do we even run!”.

That question is soon answered when I access that cold juice after a shower.  I am rejuvenated and my body feels different.  I cannot describe this exactly, but it is some form of jumpiness.  A mixture of tiredness and satisfaction.  Just the feeling of a run.  No, we do not run for the 27.25km distance of this Wednesday done in 2:31:10.  That would be bad motivation and we would not even want to be on the sun for that long.  There must be another reason why we run.  Maybe we just wait and find out about the real reason when we do the next monthly international marathon on the last Friday of June.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, June 14, 2024

Running in installments during the April International Marathon

Running in installments during the April International Marathon

I left for this run not very sure of my run route.  One thing was for sure – I needed to register at least 10.5km on this Tuesday, so that I can wrap it up with another 10.5km the next day to make the 21km half marathon.  This came to be since the MOE* allowed the April international marathon to be run in two installments, equal or unequal, but installment run was allowed for the first time in the history of the event.  This exemption came about due to the severity of the ongoing rains.  It had been raining daily and at all times, that getting a run time window, let alone a long run time, was virtually impossible.  Breaking the marathon into two offered a real possibility to be out for a shorter time, and still achieve the longer run.

*MOE - marathoners of expert, the committee that plans our runs

I left at 12.35pm on this Tuesday.  I knew that I had at least 10.5km to do in this day 1, with a repeat the next day, if this was to be so.  Those of you who have done daily runs know that it is not an easy thing.  I was already dreading the mere thought of doing two consecutive runs.  And do not take my word for it.  I tried doing the 5-runs-in-5-days just two weeks ago and failed for the first time in the history of these challenges.  I could only make it for three-runs on Monday, Tuesday and Friday.  I skipped two consecutive runs on 17th and 18th – but with good reason.  I was booked for an internal meeting on one of the days, and external on the other day – both at the lunch hour run time.  But even the three were not easy on my legs.

The monthly April international marathon was scheduled for the last Friday of April, being April 26.  But it was a month of firsts, since for the first time in the history of the monthly international runs, we had to cancel the marathon due to the unrelenting rains, that were especially prevalent in the evenings.  We were all happy with the cancellations, glad that finally the MOE had given us a break.  We even went for the rainy weekend in high spirits.  A first month without a marathon.  We were looking forward to a new week with the schools back in session and a new month beckoning soon after, where May 1, a Wednesday, would be a holiday break.  What a great week ahead!

That was not to be.  Things took a turn on Sunday night.  It was just past midnight, repeat, midnight, when the national government announced that schools were not to reopen due to the effects of the rain.  They granted one week extension to the school holidays.  I came to learn about this later in the day, Monday, after I saw comments online about the chaotic situation on our roads and schools, with some students already travelled to school since they were not aware of the postponement.

There were to be new surprises, when later in the day the MOE sent a notification that the April marathon had after all not been cancelled.  It has just been postponed and would in fact be held in that week of April 29.  They sweetened the deal by indicating that the run would be done in installments over the two-day period that was remaining in the month of April.  Runners were encouraged to pick their run distance, divide it into two, and do the first bit of the run on the Monday, with a commitment to finalize the remaining bit the next day.

I have never faced an installment run before, where the distance is split into two.  That is why I was not very sure of the run route as I left for the Monday run on April 29.  A 10.5km is a direct run from Uthiru to Lower Kabete road through Kapenguria road and back.  However, that is only possible if the river just after Wangari Maathai institute is not flooded.  It has been flooded of later, and was impassible hardly ten days prior, when flood waters overwhelmed the support structures and filled up the whole valley including the road passage on top of the drainage culverts underneath.

My plan A was to get through to Lower Kabete road, and get as much distance as possible on day one, maybe even stretch it to 15k, then wrap up the balance 6k on day 2.  That depended on the river section not being flooded to enable me cross over.  If it was, then anything goes, and this has in fact happened before and not long ago.  

Take that April 12 run as an example.  I had encountered exactly this challenge.  I was set for a long undefined distance run, that was to at least get to Lower Kabete road.  It was not to be.  I reached that river crossing and found it flooded.  I saw some people wadding through the completely submerged tarmac road, dirty brown water reaching almost knee high as they struggled through the five or so metre crossing.

I had screeched to a halt.

“Oh emm gee!,” I shouted subconsciously.  

I found other stranded people contemplating whether to cross or stay put.

I stopped and assessed the situation.  I could see a flooded plain on the left side of the road.  The flood waters had formed a big lake on the once lush green agricultural land that had some banana stems, maize plants, and arrow roots.  They were all mostly submerged.  Only the upper half of the banana stems were visible.  The flood had thereafter formed a river on top of the tarmac road, as it flooded towards the left edge of the road, all across to the right side and onto a valley.

This stoppage interrupted my run rhythm on a day that I was having one of the best run paces in the year.  I was already at an average of 4.40min per km, which was quite something.  I am usually over 5min per km by this point on the run.  I had to go to plan B.  I made a U-turn and decided to tweak my way back.  

Running back the Kapenguria road hill early in the run was not fun, when my last 2km had been a smooth downhill.  I persevered and reached Ndumboini.  I then turned right and went to a run on Kanyariri road all the way to the Northern by-pass near Gitaru and back, registering a 25k in the process.  That was 17-days before this Monday run.  I was not planning for another U-turn at the river, but with the rains being as unrelenting as they have been, this dreaded U-turn and a new plan B was still a reality.

Back to this Monday run.  The weather was quite good, being just a bit sunny but with a cloud cover that was preventing the sun from its aggression.  I was to get to Lower Kabete road first, then decide on what to do next.  The aim was a 10.5km, the ambition as a 15km, the reality was yet to be determined.  All was well until I got to Ndumboini and did a loop towards UON Upper Kabete gate.  I was just turning back from the gate when I heard something like a drumming or a humming noise.  I had already met a big group of students, and thought that maybe there was a congregation of sort making these noises on this apparent opening day.

A careful listening and a reaction from the student crowd would soon give me the answer.  There was a rain approaching from Ndumboini stage coming towards the University gate.  That was the drumming that I had heard.  I would soon see the crowd of students, whom I had earlier run against, scamper in two directions.  One group ran towards the shopping centre where the rain was coming from.  The other group were now running back towards me, intending to shelter back at the Uni.  I was running away from the gate to rejoin Kapenguria road.  However, I was now not sure what to do – either turn back to the Uni gate and take shelter or run ahead to the shopping centre and take shelter.

There was no time to even think, since I would soon be hit by those cold outburst of a heavy rain that seemed to have come from nowhere.

“This is messed,” I said loudly, as I kept running, completely unsure of what to do.

“Why did I even decide to run today?,” I questioned loudly, “When everybody else is enjoying their lunch!?”

The waters were just too cold and I was already soaked wet by the time I got to Kapenguria road still in indecision.  

“What a day!,” I muttered, as I got to Kapenguria road, already soaked.  It is only the running shoes that were still pretending to be dry, but that would not last long with this intensity of rain.

“This is messed,” I found myself repeating.

Anyway, I was already rained on, and taking a shelter was not going to help me at this condition.  I therefore saw myself turn right and run down Kapenguria road toward Wangari Maathai institute.  Visibility was quite low with the heavy rain.  I kept going, muttering curses as I went along.  I soon got to the river crossing, the one that was uncrossable just two weeks prior.  

I found a big group of workers, struggling to take shelter on the trees next to the riverbank.  The rain was subsiding.  The workers seemed to be doing something on that river crossing, since I could observe a big pile of stones beside the road.  I guessed that they wanted to deal with the drainage issue.

The river waters had not yet risen to the level of the road.  The muddy waters were still forcefully permeating through the culverts below the road.  I could hear the rumble of the force of the pressure as the waters emerged on the right side of the road.  It would just be a matter of time before the waters overwhelm the culverts and start spilling onto the top of the road.  However, the road was clear and crossable for now.  

I decided to cross over and keep running towards Lower Kabete road.  I already knew that it would take just another 1 hour of rains and the return journey would surely come to an end on this river crossing since it would surely be a submerged road.  The rains had reduced by this time as I crossed over, and I therefore hoped that I would have the opportunity to cross back when without being stuck when I came back at some point.

I reached Lower Kabete road with my clothes dripping water.  It was still raining, though it seemed to subside.  I decided to turn right, instead of doing a return U-turn.  That now meant that I was going for the big 21, since once you make that right turn, there is usually no turning back until you get to the natural turning point at Red hill road.  I kept running, and by some bad coincidence, it started raining and it kept raining.  I cursed along, wondering why I kept going instead of turning back when I got to Lower Kabete road.  

Anyway, I kept going and decided that I would have to turn back soon.  I could not survive running in the rain.  I promised myself to do a U-turn as early as Farasi lane, but that did not happen.  It rained and I kept running.  I promised to do a U-turn at Ngecha road, but I crossed and kept going.  The rain continued.  I was to do a U at Zen gardens, but I did not, I kept going.  That meant that I surely reached Red Hill road and finally did the U-turn for my way back.

To my credit, it did shine for about 1 minute while going past Zen garden on my way back, and another one-minute of sun at Kenya School of Government, just before UON Lower Kabete campus.  After that, it was back to some drizzles as I tackled the Kapenguria road on my way back.  I was lucky that the river was not yet swollen as I crossed over.  The group of workers was still there, with their building stones piled up on one side of the road.  

There was no rain as I finished the run just before 3pm.  If anything, it seemed like it would even shine if the clouds could delay their advances in covering the sun.  A hot shower finally ended my misery on this Monday, as the timer recorded a 2:21:36 for 26.53km.  Would I do this again?  Of course not!  Running in the rain is a bad idea.  I should have done a U-turn at that first sign of rain at Ndumboini and saved myself from this misery, but then again, runners have a mind of their own – or lack of.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, May 3, 2024 

December international that was mean!

December international that was mean!

While the November international marathon went largely without a hitch, the December one was different.  It was done on the same route, but it got to me bad!  Blame it on the new route that came into the works during the October international marathon.  This new route takes you from Uthiru towards Ndumboini, and then down Kapenguria road, past Wangari Maathai institute all the way to Lower Kabete road.  

The usual runs, before October, would then direct me to the left to head towards Mary Leakey school to eventually join Kanyariri road, to then run along that tarmac to some turning point on the Northern bypass for a U-turn back to Ndumboini and eventually back to the starting line.  This December run, for the third time in as many months, would instead require a right turn as you join Lower Kabete road.  Then the run goes along Lower Kabete road all the way just past Zen gardens, then a U-turn back to the starting line.

This new route may sound simple, but it is not.  It has turned out to be one of the meanest routes that I have ever ran on.  I was initiated in October, did a second run in November, and hoped to nail it in December, but it was not to be.  The October debut was a struggle, as I got to learn the route.  The November run was more of a confirmation that this run could be modelled into the ‘new normal’.  December was to confirm that this route could be conquered and officially unveiled to the rest of the runners as the new route.

The November run, held on the twenty-fourth, was more of a memorial, and I would like to forget it in a hurry.  I even did not blog about it!  I left for that run on that Friday at lunch hour, instead of the usual evening run time.  It had been raining like crazy in that month, as blamed on the El Nino weather phenomenon (for those who do not know better), but the real culprit was climate change (who those who know better).  

In that month of November, it was raining daily, every time, every hour.  We occasionally had a few hours of no rains, and it is during such hours that we had to squeeze in the runs.  Friday lunch time was one such time slots.  The weather was good, and I just left and went for the run, not thinking much about it.  I went through the motions and finished the run at about 2.45pm after 2:16:02 on the road on that 25.25km distance.  My average of 5:23min per km was good enough.

I had largely switched off during that run.  I was still in deep thought over the events that had taken place that Friday.  Just a few hours ago, we had all assembled at the main hall.  The mood was somber, if anything, tearful.  I have never been in such a quiet meeting.  You could hear a pin drop.  There was no cheering, no clapping, no applause, no whispering, in fact, you even felt out of place to just think of clearing your throat.  The memorial service had started at ten.  The departed colleague had succumbed to breast cancer.  She was just a mother of one young child.  The service ended at 12.30pm.  I was downcast.  I could not have gone for the scheduled run that evening, I was feeling drained.  I decided to just go for the run after that service.  I was mostly robotic in my motions that day.  I was in Karatina one week later for Evalyne’s sendoff.

It is therefore the December marathon that was the run to confirm that the new route was a candidate for the new marathon route.  The MOE*, cognizant that December was a short month, had scheduled the Dec run on the second Friday of December, instead of the usual last Friday of the month.  Bad coincidentally, this last Friday would see me attending the last day of a three-day first aid training course.  This Friday was the last day that had the practical and theory exams that determined those who finally got through to be certified as first aiders for the next one year.  I could not make it for the run that should have started at four, when the exams were ending at four-thirty.
*MOE – marathoners of expert, the committee that organizes our runs

The December international marathon would finally come knocking on my door on Monday, December 11, 2023.  I did not feel ready.  I just did the run because it was a run day, and was also probably my last work day in the year.  I was scheduled to leave the city on or after the holiday of the next day.  In fact, this initial plan of starting the holiday the next day was put to the test just a week prior, when it became clear that I would have to miss the staff party on that Friday if I was to leave early.  I therefore had to extend my workdays by another three days after the run due to this last minute change.  Nonetheless, this was not going to change the date of the run.  The run was on.

December had also started with those daily rains, day and night, anytime, every time.  They kept being unpredictable.  Running continued to be timed whenever the weather permitted, instead of by schedule.  Finally, it was run day.  The sun was bright on that Monday at noon.  I was not taking any chances.  I found myself in the changing room and was out for the run at 12.35pm.  I had been on this route two previous times.  I should have been a walk in the park, but this was no walk.  It was a real run.  A real international marathon, where athletes are made… and crashed!  A run that you fail to take seriously at your own peril.  A run can dent your records… forever.  It is a run not to take lightly.

It was a good run, all the way to the U-turn on Lower Kabete road just past Zen gardens.  I even extended my run slightly to the Red Hill road underpass, where I did the new U-turn.  I was momentarily back to Lower Kabete road to run its length past Kenya School of Government, and the UON Lower Kabete campus.  And it is that section on Lower Kabete road that did the most damage to my run on that day.  The section was just hilly without a break.  It went on and on and on, every leg step being more tired than the previous.  It was a stretch of road section to forget.  I laboured on and managed to finally get to Kapenguria road.

However, the turning left from Lower Kabete road into Kapenguria road only offered a short seven minutes relief, as I went slightly downhill.  It was soon time to face the infamous 2km Kapenguria road hill.  The usual marathon routes have been crafted to avoid this particular encounter.  The new route unleashes this selfsame uphill in an equal measure, just when you are already tired after the long hilly section of the Lower Kabete road.

I was already deep in the run, with 19km already conquered, in just under 100 minutes.  Whatever was remaining had to be done.  What else was I to do?  Give up on the run?  Drop out!  Cry out loud!  That last one I actually did do.
“For crying out loud,” I cried out loud, when I reached Wangari Maathai institute where the next hill towards Ndumboini looks at you with a dare.  
With no choice, other than that crying out loud, I ran on and kept going.  I ignored the road repair crew who had reduced the road to a single lane for all traffic, and just kept pushing the legs uphill.

It was a relief getting to Ndumboini.  From there I knew that nothing, repeat, nothing, was standing on my way to the finish line.  And twenty minutes later, I finished my run at 2.50pm, after 2hr 22min and 54sec on the road.  My average speed had gone down to 5:27min per km.  I was happy that I was still standing after this run – another monthly run in the bag, oh, the last monthly run of 2023.  Lessons learnt from these twelve monthly marathons in 2023 – running is not easily, find a recurrent run event that keeps you on the road to force you into a routine, and finally, celebrate your run achievement every time, whatever it is.  You are doing better than you imagine.  Merry Christmas!

WWB, the coach, Eldoret, Kenya, Dec. 22, 2023

Running with babu during the September international marathon

Running with babu during the September international marathon

The September international marathon was to be a merry-go-ground run, as we call it, within the workplace compound.  Runners were to go round and round the 1.3km circuit on a tarmac route that had been crafted by the MOE*.  It is a route we have run once before, during one of the monthly international runs of last year.  It is therefore familiar, but a nightmare to many runners.  Many avoid this run, as either boring or difficult.  It forces you to run through a half route section that is uphill followed by another half route section that is downhill.  The run has three stipulations that determines when it should end.  You can either drop out once you have had enough go-rounds or be forced to drop out when the clock hits 7pm, for a run that starts at 1630hrs.  The final option is that you can drop when you have achieved your desired run distance – 5k, 10k or 21k, provided this is done by or before 7pm.

*MOE - marathoners-of-expert, the committee that organizes marathons for the team

Like any other monthly international, this run was being held on the last Friday of September.  However, it was just three days to the run that a new development came up, forcing me to update the marathoners that I would be on an ‘early bird’ edition of the run, on a Thursday before the real Friday run.  I was therefore set to be on the same route a day prior, and was even ready for any early-birds that I had extended an invitation to.  I had already calculated that I needed to do 16 go rounds to achieve the 21k, actually, 17, since the 16 would fall slightly short of the 21k.

The weather was just perfect on this Thursday as I started my first circuit at 4.40pm.  There were no other early birds.  I would have to represent them all.  The sun was still high on the western side of the sky.  It was not that hot.  It had rained two nights before, and more rains were expected as per the weather forecast, hence the cloud cover kept the overhead heat contained.  I did a first ‘route survey’ run around the almost oval shape of the course, technical, hand shaped circuit.  The route was as expected – an initial half circuit of uphill run, then a final rolldown to the starting line.  The tarmac was as tough on the feet as was expected.  The sharp turns were a real test on the braking and turning systems of the body.  It was the route that I knew, no doubt, no changes.  With the survey done, I now proceeded to keep a count of the number of rounds done as I went round and round.

I needed 17, I desired 21, but I actually did 22, finishing just after the time stipulation.  After all, what was I to do, when the last circuit started just a few minutes to the finish time and I still had to finish it?  But why was I doing an early bird?....

I left the city on the timely Easy Coach bus to Busia on Friday morning.  I call it timely because it was a 6.45am bus and it did leave at 6.50am.  I am used to such a bus leaving about an hour after the scheduled time.  The fare had been hiked by almost 30%, from the usual 1400 to a new 1800.  However, seeing my people was a must, and I just had to do what I had to do, to make this happen.

I had deliberately booked an isle seat, somewhere mid-bus.  I did not want to suffer the sunshine that hits those seated by the windows.  Being positioned somehow near the exit was strategic, to enable me get out easily when I would alight somewhere midway between Kisumu and Busia.  The online booking system had anyway prevented me from booking a window seat, with the ‘reserved for ladies’ caveat affix on quite a number of seats that were therefore unbookable.  

“Discrimination,” I almost said as I hit the select seat button on the phone app and picked 4C instead.

I am known to be a loud-mouth in the corridors of marathoning, and I can easily be heard when over one kilometre away, should I be talking.  I enjoy a good talk, and I talk loud enough for the world to hear – that is what I am told, I do not know for sure, so let me tell it as I am told.  I therefore got into the bus just around 6.40am with this talkative spirit hovering around me.  The person sitting on 4D was already there, if anything, occupying both seats by spreading paraphernalia and stuff on both seats.

“Excuse me,” I said, as I pushed my bag into the overhead compartment and tried to take my seat.

“Oh,” she said shruggingly, and removed some clothing and stuff from my seat.

I took the seat, belted up and pushed two earphones into my ears.  I connected the wired earphones onto the phone and opened the music player app.  I was going classical today.  The app has the bad behaviour of arranging play files alphabetically, even if they are arranged otherwise on the storage system.  I was therefore going to start on Bach today.  Beethoven would be next.  I would have to really wait to reach Mozart, and probably not reach Wagner, but the journey was long.  That is why we left early anyway.  Going home is a full day event.

I proceeded to take a nap, more of a sleep, since I completely blacked out and did not even notice any landmark past Uthiru which just within Nairobi.  I would find myself jolted back to wakefulness at Gilgil weighbridge, some 120km out of Nairobi, where the imposing bumps must surely wake you up.  Additionally, the bus had to do a 360-turn to go to the other side of the road to be weighed, before returning to the road towards Nakuru.  I took advantage of the wakefulness to appreciate the environment briefly, as I glanced onto the phone screen.  It was just about nine.  I found myself taking another nap, this time a nap for sure, since I was in between sleep and sobriety, and could hazily notice the going-ons.

We finally took the first break at Nakuru at a petrol station at eleven.  Nakuru is a familiar town, sorry city, since it got its city status by charter just two-years ago, so let us be politically correct about Nakuru.  It was my major town when still working at Gilgil, being just 30km apart.  That was way back then in the past history.  It was now a stopover like any other.  I alighted and took the break like the rest of the passengers.  This was the first bus to get to this stopover station.  There was no other bus there, or did any bus stopover while we were there.  This place would have been full, if the bus was to arrived around one, when buses going both directs meet up during the break.

I should have resisted, but I did not.  I told myself that I was being polite.  This happened just as the bus left the stopover at about 11.30am.  Coincidentally, this was the second time such an offer was being made in a period of about a year, same bus company, different routes, despite ‘do not accept food from strangers’ warning slapped all over the waiting room.  On that first time, I was on the Nairobi-Malaba route, and ended up getting acquainted with a top seeded Kenyan tennis player.  I was on 4B on that occasion.  I ended up conversing from Nakuru to Eldy on that day.  Today was different.  I was on the Nairobi-Busia route and I was on 4C.

“Have a sandwich,” the lady at 4D unwrapped the cling film from some slices of bread with stuff in between and offered a bunch in my direction.

Instinct told me to decline, but being polite ruled the day, “Thanks,” I took a sandwich and returned the rest.

“I have already taken enough,” she protested, and kept her hand stretched in a manner of take-it-all-since-I-have-had-enough.

“Ok, but maybe for later,” I responded and put the remain ‘wich into a woven carrier bag and dipped it into the front seat pocket.

I had planned to re-nap, but now I had to deal with the sandwich first, then see if another sleep was possible.  It was also getting hotter, and my sleep deprivation had now waned after that long sleep from Nairobi to Nakuru.  I was likely going to remain sober for the rest of the trip.  

This was not meant to happen, but soon the stories just started.  How they started, I do not know exactly.

“Imagine mtoto wa colleague yangu died, just like that,” she started, sandwich munch going on.

“How comes?,” I wondered.

“Wakumbuka that see-ee-oh who was found dead?  Yule alikuwa killed by the girl?”

I started flashing through my Brain-GPT.  I soon remembered that entry, where the Finance Director, not CEO, of a famous Kenyan hospital had been found murdered, with footage showing some lady jumping out of his house compound through a fence.

We talked about that for some time, as the bus kept going.

“Ingekuwa coast, such thing hiwezi fanyika,” she volunteered.

“How so?,  Yani mambo ya coast ni tofauti?”

“N’me zalima na kuishi huko maisha yangu yote!,  Sisi twa respect culture sana.  Mtu kama huyo should have been married off by the traditions by now.  Hangeweza kuwa bado ana pick tu girls that he does not know”

“He was probably bewitched,” I put in a word in the FD’s defense.

“Mimi siamini hiyo mambo ya babu,” she stated, “Mimi ni mkristo.”

“But waganga are all over, they even advertise themselves.  Hujaona kibao cha mganga anayetibu vitu vilivyo potea?”

“I can tell you my friend, kuamini mambo ya babu ni imani potovu tu.  Kuna wakati mimi na mme wangu hatukuwa na kazi, tuka ambiwa twende kwa babu atusaidie.  Ng’o!  Nika kataa.  Lakini waona sasa, sisi sote wawili tuna kazi, hata watoto wetu wamepata kazi zao vizuri.  No need for such.”

“But people still go to them?,” I protested.

“True, watu wengi bado wana amini babu sana.  Hata huko pwani kuna wengi wanapenda kutembelea babu, lakini they suffer in the long run.”

She would go on to tell me real cases where blood sacrifices had led to the death of some of her close relatives who had engaged ‘babu’, and sacrificing family members was a requirement in order to attain the wealth that they needed.

“Kwanza watu wa bara ndio wengi huko pwani, wakija kuona babu.  Do not trust many of these land cases you see in Nairobi.  Nyingi zao zina saidiwa na babu, wa kule Mambasani.”

Time flew very fast, and we were soon done with the Kericho and Kisumu stopover breaks.  I knew that my destination was near the moment the bus crossed River Yala.  So, as I finally alighted at Dudi, informing her that her Ugunja stage would be about 30-minutes away, I slowly forced my tired legs across the tarmac and onto the market centre.  The tiredness being from those 29km of run round-and-round the September international marathon route.  The run was also still done in good time, achieving an average of 5.04min/km.  It was now just around 4.30pm and I knew that the real run should now be taking place back in Nairobi, some 450km away.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Oct. 7, 2023

The run that I did not finish… almost

The run that I did not finish… almost

Runs can be mean!  And no other run has turned out to be meaner than the August international marathon of Friday, August 25, 2023.  This was meant to be a run like any other.  I had already done seven other similar runs and they had all turned just fine.  I did not think anything of this eighth run on the 2023 calendar.  If anything, my last run early in this same month had been a 30k on the same route within 2hr 43min, and it came and went without much ado.

That last run had been my motivation as a prepared for this August run.  My mind was already preparing for a repeat of this 30.  My scheme was to do a 42k full marathon this Friday.  Let me explain….

I had started my day by walking to a medical centre at Kangemi on Waiyaki way.  It was a routine 3km walk to the centre and another three back.  Something had, however, been off with that particular visit.  I had arrived early, as early as nine, and found the centre just preparing to start their operations, which they should have started at eight.  I even picked ticket numero uno.

I was momentarily at the pharmacy, where I presented my medical card and started waiting for the attendant to finally call me up.  The centre had gone paperless and I therefore did not have a prescription to present.  It was somewhere doing rounds ‘in the system’.  He called me up at some point, after a forever wait.  He soon pointed to some paper and asked me to sign.  He then asked me to pick my card as he presented back one copy of the signed receipt.

The procedure did not seem right, but I still picked up the card.  I was just about to leave, when I decided to ask him if he had done any billing.  I know the billing process should have required the scanning of a fingerprint and all, which had not happened yet.

“Oh em gee!,” he exclaimed, “Imagine, I forgot!  Place the card on the reader again.”

I was taking my black tea some one hour later after that event that it dawned on me that that pharmacist had not given me the medicine.  It was therefore with lots of curses that I did another 3k walk back to Kangemi to go and get the medicine, before I ‘cursingly’ walked another three back to the office.  Anyway, bad things happen to even good people, so it was just one of those bad days.

I took a lunch hour coffee while still feeling good and ready for the run.  I had already registered 12km on my legs so far, and was already scheming to add another 30k run to the mix.  That would give me the magical 42k – a full marathon all in one day!  Can there be any other better day than this?

I started the run at 1600 hours.  Mathew had already informed me that he was not joining in.  It was therefore going to be a lonely run, but a runner gotta do what a runner gotta do, so it was all well.  The weather was just perfect.  Just a bit of sun, but not that type of sun that burns.  It was the type that jus keeps you warm.  The air was still.  I wished it was a bit windy, but not today.  I would have to run on the still heated air but with a moderate solar heat, so not bad.

My troubles started on the fifth kilometre as I was running downhill towards Wangari Maathai institute on Kapenguria road, after having gone past Kabete Poly, crossed the Waiyaki way and had joined Kapenguria road.  I had already passed through the Ndumboini stage and survived the matatu and motorbike madness that keeps that road junction impassible.

Contrary to expectations, running downhill is never easy.  However, it should also not be very tedious.  In my case I could hardly ‘roll’ down.  My legs started developing a strange sense of tiredness.  I did self-talk to the effect that the downhill would soon come to an end, and I would eventually face the uphill towards Lower Kabete road.  It did not get better.  The uphill became worse than I thought.  It was just painful climbing that hill, where I was sprinting hardly twenty days ago.

Another self-talk propelled me upto Lower Kabete road and I did the left turn to run on the mild hill towards the rough road to Mary Leakey school and eventually to the University farm.  It got worse!  Worse I tell you!  And it did not improve, it kept getting worse!

My legs could hardly move, even as I finally crossed through the Uni farm and emerged at the tank on Kanyariri road tarmac.  It is at this point that I almost just turned back to my left to get to Ndumboini and back to the finish.  But even that very thought was a bit of a stretch!  My real intention was just to DNF* at this point and take a motorbike back, and there were plenty waiting at the roadside boda boda stage.

*DNF – ‘did not finish’, one of those things that happen to others, and you wish does not happen to you

I looked at my timer.  It had recorded just 13k.  Here I was ready to stop my run at just 13k!  I was not going to think any twice about this decision.  This was it.  I had had it for the day.  Of course, I could try and squeeze some run into the equation and run the about 4k back to the finish and register a 17k marathon.  But any thought of the way ‘run’ was just painful at this point.  However, it is this very thought of doing ‘just 17k’ that shamed me into action.  I do a 17 on a typical lunch hour run!  How can I register the same on a monthly international marathon?

I found myself caught up between a ‘13k DNF’, a ‘17k marathon’ or doing something about this run to still salvage it.  My mind instructed me to salvage it and forced my hardly movable legs into action.  I turned right and continued onto Kanyariri road, counting every painful step as I went along.  For the first time I kept a close watch on my watch, waiting for a 15k turnback point to eventually show up on the screen.  I was going to make a turnback at 15k and be heading back home, if I was even going to get to that point.  It was that bad!

I finally, amid hardly-movable legs, made a U-turn at the 15k mark somewhere along Kanyariri road and started running back towards Ndumboini.  My legs were tired and painful with every step.

“What did I get myself into,” I found myself saying out loudly at some point as I faced the Ndumboini hill.

“What did I get myself into,” I kept repeating audibly as the hill slowed me down almost to a standstill.

It is now about two weeks later, but I cannot tell you how I even managed to finish that run.  I do not know what was happening to me on that day.  I just know that I eventually reached the finish after 21.15km in 2.04.44, recording my PW (personal worst time).  I was just a few more steps before I could have collapsed.  I am glad that I finished run before this happened.  On reflection, I now know that even those 12km walks that I did earlier in the day counted.  I had initially assumed that they would have no bearing on my performance but I was wrong.  Even a seasoned runner can be wrong.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Sep. 8, 2023

When the marathon is washed off… with you in it

When the marathon is washed off… with you in it

“What did I get myself into?,” I muttered to myself on this Friday of April 28, 2023 at about six in the evening.

It was now about 1hr 45min into the run.  It was probably the second time that I was saying this statement.  The last time I said this very statement was hardly forty-minutes ago, almost at the very same place.  I had by then just waded through the worst mud ever!  It was bloody muddy!  The whole section through the University farm was just impossible and impassable.

I had even been forced to grind to a standstill and had to walk a very impassible section of about four hundred metres with that Uni farm.  My shoes were heavy with mud.  Every lifting up a foot usurped double the otherwise amount of energy needed to lift and run.  It was also slippery and careful baby steps were needed in the whole of that section.  I was hardly halfway through that section when I had said loudly, subconsciously, “What did I get myself into?”

My colleague Mathew had already passed by that section.  I believed that he must have also talked to himself when passing through that section.  He had overtaken me earlier on the run, just after we left Lower Kabete road towards Mary Leakey school.  Though I had been leading the run till that time, I had then decided to divert to a different route to tweak my run and add some mileage, sorry kilometer-age.  

But he need not have said anything anyway.  After all, he was to blame for this exact predicament by daring nature when I had proposed otherwise.  I did not mind running through any terrain or difficulty.  If anything, it is him that I had worried about albeit now too late to do anything about the situation….

We had started our run at the Generator ten minutes later than planned.  It had rained the whole day that Friday.  The run had technically been cancelled, only for the weather to change for the better, just at four when the run was to start.  I hurriedly swapped work for sports attire and ran towards the generator.  I was surprised to even see Mat there, since I was not expecting anyone to turnup for the run.  Not in this weather.

Though there was no rain as we started our run at 1610 hours, the dark clouds remained perched on top of the big overhead umbrella.  It was dark.  We left and ran away.  We would just deal with the weather and its children when its brings forth future surprises.

The weather remained calm, despite the dark clouds.  I had initially suggested to Mat that we do ‘marathon route 2’ instead of the usual.  This route-2 is tweaked from the usual route but formulated to keep us confined to the tarmac.  This would however mean doing a U-turn as we hit Lower Kabete road, then coming back to Ndumboini.  There we would take Kanyariri road on the right and run as usual all the way past Uni farm turnoff, to Wangige-Gitaru underpass to do the extreme U-turn back.

“Halafu tupande hiyo mlima yote ya Wangari turudi nayo?,” Mat had asked, as we just started the run and were discussing the route.

“Yes, that is the only way to avoid the Uni farm mud, but if you are upto it, then we do it.  I do not mind.”

He thought about it for a minute.  By the time we got to the gate to start the run proper, he had made up his mind, “Hiyo mlima, hapana, let us just go through the Uni farm.”

I knew the better but kept this knowledge to myself.  We kept running and finally left the comfort of the tarmac at the 7km mark, 8km in my case, and diverted off to the left.  It did not take long to reach the dreaded Uni farm.  The Uni farm was muddy due to the earlier rains that seem to have fallen all the way from Uthiru to that section, some ten kilometres away.  I was ready for this and so waded through successfully.  I am not sure how Mat managed to get by, but I could see his prominent run shoe footprints well defined on the muddy path, mostly on the edges of the road.

We finally got off the mud and joined Kapenguria road tarmac.  We kept running and the weather remained stable.  We even made it to the Gitaru-Wangige underpass and made our ultimate U-turn, with Mat always on the lead as I tweaked around.  Trouble started on the way back, as I got to Kapenguria road after the U-turn at the underpass.  By this time Mat should have been about six-minutes ahead from my calculations.  That means that he was now turning towards the short Uni farm diversion that is part of this route to emerge back on Kapenguria road.  It was at this time that I realized that the sky was darker than usual, and some drizzles had started.

I kept running.  The drizzle remained sparse.  I would probably survive this.  After all, the cool shower spray from above was cooling the body in small measures, just at the right level.  I even increased pace on this section as I reached the Uni farm diversion for a three-minute run, before getting back to Kapenguria road.  However, getting back to the road marked the beginning of trouble…..

I started hearing the sound that accompanies a heavy rain coming from somewhere and getting louder with every step that I took.  I wished that it was not true, but the sound of the rain got louder and louder and louder until it finally busted out loudly on my path as the heaviest, coldest, shock-inducing, unexpected and painful water droplets hit me.  I was just approaching ‘the tank’, which marks the Uni farm turnoff, the very turnoff where earlier on I had almost got stuck due to the mud.  However, this time round I would be sticking to the Kapenguria road tarmac as I head towards the finish.

“What did I get myself into?,” I muttered to myself for a second time.

It was now about one-hour forty-five minutes into the run.  I had another at least thirty minutes of run ahead to cover the remaining six kilometres or so.

The rain increased in intensity.  There was no place to shelter on this fairly deserted road.  I was stuck.  I could not go back and going forward was proving difficult with the pain and cold of the rain.

“This is messed up!,” I shouted to no one in particular.  

I kept running.  The road was hardly visible due to the white sheet of raindrops that had enveloped the air.  I shoved the phone that was doing the timing into the pocket of my shorts.  I kept running.  Soon I was facing the 1km uphill towards Ndumbo market.  The rain did not relent.  It just increased the pain of running uphill.  I was dripping wet by this time.  My run shoes were heavy with the waters.  My clothes were freezing cold and dropping off water in my wake.  I was shivering along as I ran.  I did not stop.  I kept going.

I finally reached Waiyaki way.  It still raining heavily.  I could hardly see the oncoming vehicles.  Some were courteous enough to put on their headlights.  Others decided to remain invisible.  It is only the sound of their engines on approach that signaled their presence.  I somehow crossed one side of the road to the middle island, despite the invisibility caused by the rain.  I had to wipe off the rains from my face many times in the process of waiting and crossing.  I once again finally crossed the other carriage of the road and got to the edge of the Waiyaki way.

It was now time for the final run past Kabete Police station, then do the sharp U-turn towards Kabete Poly.  My run would be over in a moment.  I caught up with Mat at the Uthiru roundabout with less than two hundred metres to go.  It was the best feeling to finally finish the run, just as the rain as subsiding into drizzles.

I stopped my timer at 25.16km, 2.14.15, 5.20 average.

This is a run that I would have liked to forget in a hurry.  I did not want to reveal anything that happened on that Friday.  However, the best way to forget about something is to get it out of your system, which I have now done.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, May 10, 2023

Valenthon that was tougher than Kili

Valenthon that was tougher than Kili

If all had worked out, I would now be recuperating from a run at Kilimanjaro mountain.  But things did not work out.  I did not manage to travel to Tanzania, despite the best of efforts.  I still missed the bus.  It is for that reason that it is a run day Sunday in Kili but I am still in Nairobi and surviving another hot afternoon, a second hot afternoon.  Though I missed the Kili, I still had my own International marathon on Friday, February 24.  This was yet another monthly marathon arranged by the MOE*.

I know that folks are wondering what happened to the January international, since there was mention nor a blog story about it.  I will tell you why there was no story about it.  It turned out to be exactly as what I had written about in November and December, that is, I was alone on that long 21km route and I lived to tell.  I did not want to duplicate a story already written in November, so I left it untold.

I have just seen postings of the performance by the Kenyan team members who went to Kili and who did their run today, Sunday.  I congratulate them.  I do not envy them.  I know how hot the run must have been, though they had the privilege and opportunity of being supplied with water, soda and fruits.  I did experience a similarly tough run on Friday, albeit without any water or nourishment in that hot Friday evening.

Let me thank Mathew for ensuring that this story is written, otherwise I would be skipping the writing and referring runners to the December event if I would have run solo on this hot February.  In fact, I was prepared for yet another solo run, with Edu having conveniently cancelled his participation hardly 3-days to the event.  He was the only team member that was capable to taking up the challenge.  His excuse this time round was an evening meeting on the Friday, but I knew better.  While the meeting was convenient, the real reason was the fear of being roasted in the scorching sun.  He even let that sentiment slip, but it was too late to state that this was not his reason for cancellation.

I started the run at four from the locker room, and headed to the ‘real’ starting point at the generator.  I did not expect anyone to be joining me on this run.  I just ran there as a routine to get this run officially started.  It was a pleasant surprise to see Mathew, a second time runner at that starting point.  The last time I did a run with him was sometime in November, when Edu was also in that trio.  We had run the Mary Leakey route on a 13km distance in an evening.  It was a general slow run.

We were meeting for a second run, four months later.

“Where is your water?,” I asked, as we prepared to reflag the run.  I had my own 500ml water bottle, whose content was already warm, despite having filled in some cold water hardly ten minutes prior.  The weather was just blazing hot.

“Will I need it?”

“Did you not read the notice?  We said that every runner must carry some water.  This heat is nothing to joke with!”

“I will buy some along the way,” he shrugged.

We started the run, as he confirmed that this was his first run on the 21km route.  It was a slow run ab-initio.  We ran together through the designated route to Waiyaki way and crossed over to Ndumboini.  We went down Kapenguria road, past Wangari Maathai institute and ended up on Lower Kabete road.  From there we turned left and ran about a kilometre, to once again turn left through the rough road past Mary Leakey and eventually traversed the university farm.  We finally emerged at the tank, and joined Kanyariri road.  We turned right and kept going, slowly, though I could at times increase pace go gain over five minutes, only to stop and wait for Mathew to join in.

Running on Kanyariri road from the tank to Gitatu underpass and back was the hardest part of the run, with all the sun and the tiredness continuously setting in.  Eventually, Mathew took a break to buy his water at ‘the tank’, which is the junction to the rough road towards University farm.  On the return leg we would however not go back to the farm, but instead keep to the Kanyariri road tarmac all the way back to Ndumboini and do the same route back to the starting line.  I had hardly touched my water.  It was already boiling inside that plastic bottle.

I did a few tweaks and variations of the run to give myself some extra mileage as I also allowed Mat to catch up.  Finally, after almost 2hr 30min in the hot sun, that was now slowly fading off as the sun sets, we did finish the run.  I stopped my timer at 02.27.01 after 24.30km, with an average of 6.03.  I did not know that running slowly can be that tiring.  But that was not my Kili tiredness moment.

The tiredness moment came when I was walking home at about eight in the evening.  My body was just too lethargic.  I struggled to get to the home and literally collapsed into the house.  I took a litre of coke soda, but that did not seem to quench my thirst.  I tried to eat something, I do not even know what, but I was just not myself.  At some point in the night I did fall asleep.

I woke up yesterday and found an open bottle of soda by the bedside, and some half eaten food.  I cannot even remember how I left these leftovers, yet my mind had convinced me that I had partaken them all.  At that moment of waking up I surely confirmed that dehydration was real.  Worse can really happen if an athlete lets dehydration have its way.  This was the worst feeling that I have had in many years.  I survived the last Kili over the 42km in 2020, but it did not feel this bad.  The aftereffects of the Valenthon were just from another world!

*MOE = marathoners of expert, the committee that organizes for marathons 

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Sunday, Feb. 26, 2023

November International boycott… when action is louder

November International boycott… when action is louder

The MoE* had communicated the Friday, November 25, 2022 date for the November international marathon as early as October, just after the Stanchart Nairobi International.  I was therefore confident that this scheduled run would attract many runners who had about a month to prepare.  The card was also full of choice – anything from 2km to the big 21km.  There was therefore something for everyone.

*MoE – Marathoners of expert, the committee that organizes marathons

Three weekly reminders later, and the day for the marathon was at hand.  This was the day.  It was a Friday with a good weather, unlike the evening rains that had ‘spoilt’ a few evenings earlier in the week.  A semblance of cloud cover brought about an overcast day in the afternoon, but the rain clouds remained absent.  The sun would force itself out of the clouds by four, and it remained bright thereafter all the way to sunset.

I expected a big turnout, but things would take a turn at about two.  Beryl was the first to make her way into my office, all smiles…

“I come in peace,” she knocked onto the frame of the open door.

“What a good marathon we shall have!,” I responded.  She surely must have been quite serious about the run to make it for the run this early, with two more hours before the start.

“I come with a peace offering,” she exposed a shopping bag and extended it in my direction.

There in lied the catch.  Nobody gives a peace offering when there is no war.  I however let it slip as I had an immediate encounter with Edu, who was just close behind.

“Coach, imagine I have a meeting at four,” he said in a manner of greeting, as Beryl took a seat.  I was now settled back to my seat.  Rummaging through the shopping bag.

I looked up.  He was still filing the door.  I had known that this type of statement would be coming sooner or later.  This is because Edu is usually the most enthusiastic of the runners in the team.  He would already have reminded me at least thrice that we had a marathon and that we shall be running.  He had done no such thing.  He had not contacted me at all since Stanchart.  

If anything, I had even met him on Thursday, just a day to the run.  I was finishing off my lunch hour run on the 17k, while he was walking leisurely with colleagues.  He would normally have even blocked my way and reminded me of the Friday run, lest I forget.  Not this time.  He just waved me along on this Thursday.  Those right there were signs that he was not running this international, but I still hoped otherwise.

Now it was all clear.  Edu was not doing the November international.  Edu would momentarily be gone, as I was now left with the peace offering to savor.

“Imagine I have to see my sis off,” she broke the silence, getting my attention off the bag of fruits.

“You mean!?”

“Yea, my sis is travelling abroad, and this is the day to say our goodbyes.”

Which coach in his right mind can refuse to grant a runner such a request? 

With no other confirmations for this Friday run, I knew that I was surely on my own.

When I started the run at four, I just left and did not look back.  I did not find or see any other runners, nor did I expect to find or see any other runner.  I was doing this on my own, for the team.  I was doing the run for all.  While the first 5k seemed relaxed and comfortable, as I run from Uthiru across Waiyaki way to Ndumboini then Kapenguria road, my real troubles started after the river on Kapenguria road.  My stomach just started paining.  I had not taken any other solid meal apart from tea and bread for breakfast, so this was a pain that I could not explain.  It was not a stitch, it would not be a stitch.  I wished it would go away.  It did not.

I was barely able to run as I traversed the university farm just past the 10k mark.  I was going to have quite an uncomfortable run, but it was now too late.  I would just have to endure to the end.  And the end was still far!  I was hardly halfway through.

Sheer willpower and pain endurance kept me going all the way to the turning point below Gitaru-Wangige overpass, before making my way back on Kanyariri road, to Ndumboini, then back to Waiyaki way and finally to Kabete Poly just 2k from my finishing point.

It was a relief to just somehow finish the run.  I did not care about the time.  I was just glad that I had done it.  The average run turned out to be 5m09s per km on the 24.5km course that took me 2hr 6min.  I was by now too thirsty having been unable to take any water in the course fearing the reaction of my stomach to water in my state of distress.  The thing that kept me going was the thought of the assortment of fruits waiting for me upon completion.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Nov. 27, 2022

Sprinters delight lives up to expectations… but wait!

Sprinters delight lives up to expectations… but wait!

The July international marathon of last Friday, July 29, 2022, had been publicized since the June international run.  We knew that it shall come to pass, and come to pass it did on that last Friday.  We were four when we started the 21k of the June run.  We had hoped for a bigger starting lineup in July, but that did not happen.  Even a 15-minute wait beyond the stipulated 1600hrs starting time did not improve the numbers.  Karl, Edu and I remained the only people still standing even at this delayed time.

We just had to start.  The day was cool, just about cold.  The ‘sprinters delight’ has been crafted by the MOE* as the day for runners to sprint away and break records, after the many group runs that have been done since March.  We expected PBs on this day, and we did not keep any secrets about this requirement.  We publicized this encouragement throughout the month of July as we sent email updates and reminders.  And… finally, it was the day to get it done.

*MOE = marathoners of expert, the committee that organizes run events

Unlike a group run whose pace is dictated by the slowest runner, the sprinters run is dictated by the person running.  You ‘close your eyes’ aka ignore every other runner, and just go for it.  Of course, you need to push a little harder than usual during such a run, since you need to break some form of record.  That was our collective mentality as we started our run at 1615hrs.

I was on my own by the first kilometre.  I did not look back and kept going.  The weather was just too cool.  The run seemed easy despite the terrain that is hilly from the start, with just a short reprieve from Ndumbo past Wangari Maathai to the river, on Kapenguria road.  After that river it is a general uphill to the 13km turning point under the Gitaru-Wangige road.  Even after that turning point the terrain remains generally hilly until you get back to the tank on Kanyariri road, ready to do a short kilometre of rundown to the bottom of Ndumboini.  You then face the last major hill that ends at Waiyaki way, then it is generally flat to the finish line.

The terrain did not disappoint.  It remained heavy on the legs, but it was a sprinting day, and so the run continued at a generally faster pace.  I met Karl and Edu on my 14.5km mark.  They still had to do a 1.5km run to the 13km turning point.  We raised our hands through the air in a manner of acknowledging each other and we went our opposite ways.

My run on Kanyariri road back to Ndumbo then to the starting line at Uthiru was as expected.  You just need to survive that 1.5km Ndumbo hill and once on Waiyaki way you are generally done with the run.  I was therefore generally done with the run when I crossed Waiyaki way and just ran past the Kabete Police station towards the turning point at N-junction.  I was soon at the finishing line at 1751hrs.  The data recorded on Runkeeper was 21.27km, 1.41.26, 4:46 average, 408m climb.

The only explanation for the fast pace was the ‘sprinters delight’.  I had previously tried to prepare for this run by doing several shorter distances but could not get to under 4.47 average.  Even another test run, after the fact, on a 17k route today did not get me to 4.46.  I was still on 4.47.  With no other sprinters run until Nairobi International Marathon of October 30, I can for sure say that this was the best run in the year.  

However, I have seen the body behave in ways unimaginable.  I had given up on ever running under 5.00 average for most of the year, only for the booster vaccine to kick in and to since be under 5.00 on every run.  That means that you cannot predict what shall happen on the next run.  The impossible can happen.  Just be ready for it.  Enjoy it when it comes.  After all, your best run is on the day that you are running that run… that is when the unexpected can happen.

WWB, the coach, Nairobi, Kenya, August 1, 2022

Booster vaccines boosts the run – the truth is out

Booster vaccines boosts the run – the truth is out

Yesterday was another runday Monday.  My first run in over one week.  The first run since that corona booster vaccine of last week.  The weather has been cold and unforgiving most of this month.  I have used the weather as the excuse of not going out there.  However, the run finally called me to action yesterday.  I first of all realized that we shall be having the July International marathon just next week, on July 29.  That meant that I needed to start my preps.  

Secondly, being out of the road for over a week is not recommended.  It is just a very long ‘time out’ by any definition.  The only time I have taken a week or more out of the run has been during the long holidays in December, when I go back to my roots and spend the endless days doing nothing, just savouring the good weather under the mango tree.  It is not yet December for those who may not have checked, hence I am not yet entitled to an ‘under the mango tree’ moment.

So, I get out of the warm office on this Monday and immediately gets hit by the cold mid-day weather.  I get almost frozen out before I even make the first few steps of the run.  I encourage myself on, saying that what must be done must be done.  I convince myself that the weather shall improve with time, or the body shall adapt to the cold with time.  I keep running and none of these two wishes come true.  It remains cold and the body fails to adapt.  I can feel the cold.  No wind, just cold.

I would usually have done a 10km run on Kapenguria road to Lower Kabete tarmac junction as the turnback point then back, but that did not happen yesterday.  I instead found myself going to Mary Leakey route, which is not a route that you would usually do over the lunch hour, since it is at least 13k.  It is difficult to fit 13k of hills into the one-hour lunch hour break, but sometimes you have to push the body to limits that you would otherwise not.  This was one of those lunch hours to keep pushing.

I have been to this Mary Leakey route for many years, and I was not expecting any surprises.  I was just worrying about the uphill towards Ndumboini on my way back after exiting from the University farm at the tank and turning to my left back to Ndumboini.  If only someone, I do not know who, could remove that hill!

Anyway, I was on the 10k mark when I started on that uphill that would end on the 11k mark.  From there it was just a turnback across Waiyaki Way and back to Kabete Poly to head towards the finish of the run in less than 10-minutes.  The run ended with an average of 5.07min per k on a 15.4km distance.  That was probably the fastest I have managed on that route maybe forever since this is not a usual run route.  The tweaks, including the 21k version curved out of this, is like the norm.

Today was not a runday Tuesday.  If anything, I had already taken a heavy lunch and was not set for any run.  I would usually do an evening run-walk upon being booked by a student of run.  I had not been booked and I therefore was not intending to do any runs on this Tuesday.  However, as it would turn out to be, I just decided to get out of the warm office at four, changed into the run gear, then was off for yet another run on the Mary Leakey route.  The evening run experience was just similar to yesterday’s in terms of the weather – cold and chilly.  

I was now even having a last minute decision to have a 5-runs-in-5-days challenge, though it had not been sanctioned by the MOE yet.  After all, last month this 5-in-5 happened just a week to the international run.  This is also the week before the July international.  I am nonetheless not sure if I shall have the willpower to do another 3 runs in the week, especially now that I am doing the longer versions of run.  But the speed on this Tuesday run was now even improved to 5.03mpk on a 17.11km distance.

Now, the only variable that I can attribute to these improved speeds is…. yes, you guessed it…. the COVID19 booster vaccine of last week.  That shot has boosted me in more ways than one.  I am now faster, based on a sample size of two runs out of two.  The booster that is meant to prevent severe illness and hospitalization from corona virus disease (COVID) is just the thing that probably all marathoners need!  The very corona virus that has infected* 569,036,399 people in the planet resulting into 6,390,296 deaths, with Kenyan numbers being 336,904 and 5,668 respectively.  Wait till I do the July international marathon codenamed ‘Sprinters delight’ when runners should do their fastest runs, and you shall prove my ‘boosted’ theory.  Free advice – Take a booster shot, it helps!

*worldometers website

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, July 19, 2022