Beyond zero that almost become zero

Beyond zero that almost become zero


When I was traveling back from TZ on that Monday after the marathon, my mind was still grappling with the possibility of running another competitive marathon hardly six days after the TZ full.  This was against the background of a chatter, that I had already had in the shuttle, that the folks were ‘not boarding’ this run.  They were giving it a wide berth since this run brushed the wrong side of their political convictions.  

Their stand was that it was the government that should be in charge of medicare, and not the runners!  Of course, this type of debate is hard to win.  After all, doesn’t every run have a cause that the government should be in charge of, but we still go for them?  Ndakaini for water, Stanchart for ophthalmology and Mutuini for literacy?  

However, believe me when I tell you that you cannot win an argument over political convictions.  The other argument that you cannot win is one on religious convictions.  I have learnt to respect these two philosophies according to points of view of the people involved, and would change the topic in a hurry when these topics come up.

So there I was, seated on ‘jampu siti’, listening to the backbenches saying that the BZ marathon was a no-goner.  As already stated, I did not wish to join in.  From my point of view, the only reason why I was likely to miss this run was just because I was tired from the Kili.  My political view on this event was hidden from view.  

Due to the various points of view, this marathon was therefore not mentioned much on our WhatsApp discussions.  It was as if all were afraid to talk about it.  I kept my quiet too, even as people shared all manner of things on WhatsApp including some meme about some football in EPL, which is responsible for many lost bets.

I made a final decision to participate in this marathon when that SMS that beeped on my phone on a Feb. 26 came through.  The deal was just too good…
Register before Feb. 28 and have your running kits delivered for free within Nairobi… 
 

Imagine being seated at Uthiru and you see that BZ rider coming your way with a kit – without even raising a leg!  Who could resist such a do nothing at all, free delivery of the kit?  Not me!

Little did I know that there was a catch to this message?  The catch came about when I registered online, paid up by card and had to make a choice on how to get the kit.  And as sure as the sun rises from the East, there was no option for ‘free delivery’.  What we had on that website was a choice of either ‘collect from KICC’ or ‘collect from AK Nyayo Stadium’.

“Liars!,” I shouted loud while looking at the computer screen, two thousand shillings already deducted from my card.
“These lying #$%@,” I could not resisting vitrioling. 
I almost called my bank to have the transaction reversed, but what had been done had now been done.
I had egg all over my face as I painfully selected ‘collect from KICC’.
“KICC indeed!,” I could not stop.

However, that was not the end of it.  I was not going to take this lie lying down.  I went to the contact pages of the BZ marathon as indicated on the website and called the telephone number provided of the organizers.  The phone rang answered.  I called the second number listed on the page.  It rang and timed out.
“For crying out loud!,” I cried out loud!

Finally, I got to one of those ‘fill the form below to contact us’ website sections and filled it up, stated to the IMG organizers that they had promised delivery of kits and they had no choice but to deliver the kit to my address in Uthiru, which I indicated on that form.  I went further to tell them that I would be expecting that kit by the time I am would be back to the city.  I left my contacts in case they had a rejoinder….


But… Here I was, traveling back from TZ on a Monday.  There was no response from IMG or BZ.  Then… Then it just occurred to me that I could as well collect the kit from KICC, now that my shuttle would be dropping me at their city centre’s office near Jeevanjee.  

I would lose nothing by walking the 1km to the KICC collection point, though I was still feeling cheated, even as I guided my footsteps through Muindi Bingu street, then City Hall way before getting to KICC.  I passed through security and was at the KICC grounds to collect my kit.

More bad news awaited….
“I have come to collect my kit, and that of my colleague Barbara.”
“Let me see, let me check,” the lady at the 21km registration desk started on the list, four other eyes from her two colleagues following suit.
“Sorry, your name is not in the list,” she said, “Let us try Barbara’s.  What is her other name?”
I told them.

They repeated the routine of looking at the list.
Two minutes later, “Sorry your names are not on the list.  Did you register?”
“Why would I be here?,” I thought of responding.  Instead, my good nature took over the conversation, “Of course.  See this confirmation from Beyond Zero,” I showed them the phone screen, where the email confirmation was already open.

They did another check, and another “Your names are not on the list.”
That is when the lightbulb hit them and they asked for new data, “We need the reference number that you got from Pesapay.”
While mine was one email down my inbox, I had to call Barbara and wait for her to respond, which took about ten minutes.  However, she got me the long reference number.

That would not be the end…..
“What cause are you running for?”
“Are you people for real?,” I almost shouted.  I do not know why that shout did not come from my mouth.
“But I already provided this information during registration?,” I said, surprised that I was this restrained.
“Yes, but we do not have the registration details.”
“You people are messed up!,” why I failed to say this statement of truth still makes me wonder upto now!

They would finally read this information from the same message that came from Pesapay.  And just when I thought that I would have a good ending….
“There goes,” she handed me a Tee and a number, “that is for Barbara.”
I held it, in a manner of to confirm the two items.
“And that is your,” she handed another duo.
 

I remained put.
“Anything a miss?”
“Yes!,” I responded, “Where are the bags?”
The three looked at each other.  Can you believe that they just said a casual, “We do not have them yet.”

I left KICC vowing not to participate in this run.  Enough was enough!


Barbara would later send me a message that she was looking forward to yet another marathon with the very coach.  But the clincher came when Beryl sent a WhatsApp message that we shall be running on Sunday to compensate for the IKM ‘running for love’ marathon that she missed. 
That does it!

 
I was going for this run.  I could not let the gals down.  This run was happening….


And happening in did, when I woke up at five on this Sunday morning and took an early breakfast.  I had hardly slept for five hours, having gone to bed around one.  It is the alarm from the two phones that got me out of bed, cursing.  The phones were so far from my reach, and were set so loud, that I just had to get up and be sober by the time I had managed to silence them.  I just had to be read to leave. 

I left the house at ten to six and walked to the Nakuru highway to get a vehicle to town.  I was in a matatu by five past six.  The vehicles traveled smoothly until we got to Westlands, when we faced the traffic jam.  I already knew what it was… road closure.

I disembarked at Villa Rosa, as all vehicles were being diverted to the left, onto the road next to that Villa.  The time was just about 6.40am.  The road towards town, just after Rosa, was free of any traffic.  I would soon start meeting up with the runners as all walked towards Nyayo.  

I would soon start jogging towards Nyayo, a distance that turned out to be four kilometres.  I should however be thanking that jog, since I reached the starting line at 6.58am and hardly had any time to settle down before the run started at exactly seven.  And the start was without any fanfare, just a countdown and off we left.

The weather was cool, following the previous night’s rains.  The run started on Uhuru highway outside the Nyayo stadium and we started running on the way back towards Villa Rosa. 
“I should have just have waited there!”, I thought out loud. 
 

We ran on the overpass at Museum hill roundabout and were once again down onto Uhuru highway to run back towards Nyayo.  Two runs within the city centre, at Parliament road and Haile Sellasie avenue made up for some distance, before we were back to Nyayo stadium to take a left turn on Bunyala road, all the way to Jogoo road, and back to the stadium via Lusaka road.

There was plenty of water available to the runners at the various water points along the route, each point about five kilometres from the previous one.  The weather remained cool.  The weather remained good.  Back to Uhuru highway and we had to take some bit of Mombasa road upto Belle Vue and back.  It was quite a relaxed run, and I did not feel any strain at all.  The run was just pure fun, no pressure, lots of company, lots of water…. And of course, the very fine weather.

I would finally get to the finish point at Nyayo stadium, clocking 1.38.08 for 21.46 (4.34min/km pace) according to Endo, while Runkeeper gave me a 1.38.15 for 21.24km (4.38min/km pace).  As per convention, pick the worst of both world to get your final stats – so 21.24 in 1.38.15 it is! 
Let me see if the official results shall tally. 

Apart from the tight security within the stadium, where runners were hardly being allowed to stay around, all seemed well and all finishers were jovial.  However, one thing was still missing…

“Where do we collect our medals?,” I approached some lady at the stadium, who was adorning a nametag in a manner to suggest that she was part of the organization of the marathon.
She looked at me, unsure.  The response did not surprise me, “Eh… Ah… I also do not know!”
Some runner would soon appear within the stadium with a medal hanged on his neck.  He is the one who directed me to get out of the stadium and get the medal ‘somewhere out there’

WWB, the coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Mar. 8, 2020

When 42 is 44 – The Story of Nairobi Marathon 2017

When 42 is 44 – The Story of Nairobi Marathon 2017

It is done

I knew that I shall finish the run ‘comfortably’ when I hit the 36km mark.  This is the same point where I was pulled out last year for ‘over speeding’ and had to be given two shots of saline to tame my speed, otherwise, “I was headed for a collapse,” as the first aiders said then.  I was wiser this year and I took the two shots voluntarily, when I asked the ambulance crew to just give me the two bottles.  I downed one in one gulp, took a deep breath, then started sipping the next, as I walked off and setoff of the last 6km of the run.

“Are you OK?, Do you want to take a rest?,” the madam first aider had asked.

“I am good to go,” I responded.  

Truthfully, I probably responded to my retreating steps, since I was already accelerating to my new finishing phase pace of about 6minutes per kilometers, down from my 5minutes per kilometer in the last major part of the run.  This was the toughest 6km route ever!.  It runs from the extreme turnoff on Mombasa road near City Cabanas, all the way to city centre.  Add to it a changed route that by-passes the usual Nyayo stadium finish point by about 2km and you have a tough finish ahead.  By this time you are tired, you are finished, the legs are aching, the eyes are strained, you cannot look straight, the light is affecting you, the heat is hitting you, the tarmac is pounding underneath your soles and… you are on your own!

But how did this final run come about?

Early riser

I woke up at 4.00am and took breakfast.  I already knew the routine, having run 4 other such long runs in the last 9 years – you start early.  I was celebrating my tenth international marathon run with the 5th and final 42k.  This was my retirement long run.  I had to make it count.  The routine is usually an early breakfast, a short reflection on the day ahead, then an early morning quest for transport to town.  I had already planned to be at the Nakuru-Nairobi highway by 5.30am, to enable me be at the starting line by 6.30am, ready for the 7.00am run.  

A last minute ‘pleasant surprise’ by the employer enabled us secure hired transport to carry team members to the venue.  This did not change the 5.30am time, it just changed the pickup point from the highway to the employer compound gate.  I was however glad that I would avoid the otherwise hustle, uncertainty and effects of road closure while on public transport.  

The hired bus was to be at the gate, ready for us, from 5.15am.  I saw the promise by the transport company to ensure that this happens.  My confidence with the transport arrangement was at its all-time high.  Little did I know that by 6.20am the bus promised for 5.15am would still be unavailable.  Talk about failing to have plan B when ideally all situations need a plan B?

Late transport

“Where are you?,” I asked the number provided by our transport coordinator.  This was meant to the be number of the driver.

“I am at Globe Cinema,” pause then, “The roads are closed!”

That was 6.10am.

Globe Cinema is at the city centre for crying out loud!

The day could never get worse than this.  How was I going to make it to town, with roads closed, for the 7.00am run!

“Conspiracy!!,” I shouted out of frustration.

“What?,” Joan, a fellow runner, now also at the gate asked.

“Nothing,” I responded, realizing that my frustration was getting the better of me.

“Marathoners,” I addressed the eight or so runners, already gathered at the gate waiting for the transport, “We shall not make it for this run.  I shall not make it for this run.”

U-what?

The bulb lit inside my head and I quickly extracted my phone to ‘Uber’ a taxi.  The response was fairly fast.  I got a confirmation in 1 minute that there shall be a taxi available for me in 5 minutes, I calculated that to mean 6.15am.  As I was starting to relax, the phone buzzed, and I saw a cancellation message from Uber.

“That is just great!,” I shouted in frustration once more as I applied for another taxi on the same platform.  This one also confirmed to pick me up in 8 minutes – that would mean 6.20am.  Well, it better be here as promised, since 40 minutes to the run is not time to be joking with a runner.

Believe it or not, the phone buzzed again about 2-minutes later with a cancellation from Uber.  I was angry.

“You accepted to pick me,” I started on the number provided, “Where are you?,” I asked this second taxi person.  Oblivious of the cancellation message.

“I am far, at Kikuyu, I cannot make it,” pause, then, “I have sent a cancellation message.”

“Why did you accept then?,” I was losing my cool, which is rare, but this situation was stretching me to the limit and called for some cool-losing moment.  

I did not even wait for an answer, “Please cancel the trip officially on Uber.  I do not want to incur charges for cancelling.”

“Just cancel,” he responded, “You shall not be charged at all.”

“Are you sure,” I reconfirmed, “Last time I did a cancellation I was surely still charged.”

“You shall not be charged, that I can tell you.  Just cancel from your side,” he insisted.

I went ahead and cancelled and my finger was not even out of the touch screen when the message came back almost immediately, “Sorry for the cancellation.  You have been charged 200 for the driver’s time”

I almost flung the phone on the wall.

 “This is just great!,” I shouted again, “Being charged for the mistake of someone else!!”

Can’t make it

The time was now 6.20am.  40 minutes to start of my run at city centre.  I was still stuck in Uthiru.  No Uber, no taxi, no bus, with a bill of 200 for no service.

“This is just great!,” I said loudly, mainly subconsciously.

At that very time a private taxi was just exiting the compound, having dropped someone inside.  I hailed it and asked out of curiosity weather there was any possibility of it taking me to town, which he agreed.  However, since I was sure that I shall be using a chartered bus, I did not even carry any cash with me!

“This is just great!!,” I said loudly, subconsciously, even as I quickly got MPESA from one of the run colleagues and jumped into the taxi.

“Fire this thing and get me to town in the shortest time possible,” that was my instruction to the taxi-man, with all hopes lost of ever making it to the run in time.  

The time was now 6.25am, with my run starting at 7.00am ‘on the dot’.  ‘On the dot’ is no joke, since I have known over the last nine events that this run starts on time – regardless of what happens.  This is a run that can even be started before the runners arrive, even without the runners!  They are that serious about time.

My heart was pounding all through the route from Uthiru, to Kangemi, to ABC, to Westlands – where the road was closed!  

Now what?

“I am just from the airport,” the driver volunteered as we hit the “Road closed” sign.

“We shall go through Westlands Road, behind Kempiski, to Museum hill.  That is the same route I had to follow to Uthiru this morning”

Shall make it

I was glad to jump out of the taxi at 6.50am at Museum hill, where there was another “Road closed” sign.  I was now faced with a 2km distance to be covered in 10-minutes and that is where my run started.  All the way past University of Nairobi, to Nyayo House, then through Uhuru Park to the starting point on Haile Sellasie avenue next to the Railway Club.

I had initially cursed the new route when I first saw it on the runners guide – starting at city centre instead of Nyayo stadium.  Now I was all praises of the new route, as I joined the group of runners JIT, just-in-time, for the 42km run countdown.  I jostled through the big crowd of mostly 10km and 21km runners, who had completely blocked the access to the starting line ahead, where the 42km runners were gearing up to go.

I did not even have a second to settle when the sound of the starting gun was heard and most runners pressed the start timer on their wrist watches.  I followed suit and started off behind the leading pack.

Relaxed

I was quite relaxed as I did this run.  I had already practiced in the last 2 months especially.  I had already experienced a 38k run in 3hr 45min.  I knew how it felt to run the distance and the time, and the strategies to put in place.  I have never been so relaxed in any of my previous runs like I was on this day.

The weather was just great.  It had earlier threatened to be a rainy run when the heavy rains come down from around 3.00am to 4.00am.  I took my breakfast when it was still raining, though the rains had subsided by the time I walked to take the bus at 5.30am.  The environment was however cold and some drizzles were still being experienced from Uthiru to town.  However, by run time there was no rain at all, though the weather remained cool and chilly.

I came to the run with two objectives – to run a relatively slower pace so that I do not burn out by the 36km and not to burn out at the 36km mark.  In other words, my run was geared towards conquering the 36k and so I did the 2017 run routine with the three-six as my main objective.

The new route started at the Haile Sellasie avenue at Railway club, just besides Uhuru park.  From there, it just followed the profile of the previous route by going to the stretch of the avenue to Railway station and back, then the tour of the city through Harambee avenue, Kenyatta avenue and University way, before heading to Parklands through Museum hill and back to Upper Hill, to exit at Nyayo stadium.  At Nyayo, the 21km runners would go back to city centre to finish off at the starting line, while the 42km runners would do 2 loops of Mombasa road from Nyayo stadium to City Cabanas and back, then finish off at city centre starting line.  

You hit the 20km mark at Nyayo stadium on Mombasa road, as you start on the first loop.  The second loop starts at the same place on the 30.5km mark.

Three-six

I did not notice much events on the route, since my mind was geared to the three-six.  I remember, vaguely, passing through a new route section within KICC grounds, and through a water spray section, a first one for this marathon.  A second such water spray runway was waiting for us at Uhuru Park at the 16km mark.  However, there were no such sprayers on the additional 20km route on Mombasa road over the 2 loops.

“Discrimination,” I shouted to myself after doing the first loop to the 30.5km and noting that the full loop had no such sprays.  However, there was bottled water available at all water points and this kind of compensated for the lack.

The second and final loop of the run is usually the most difficult.  Your head starts spinning and you even wonder whether you have done the loop once or twice.  I know of runners who do not even do a second loop – though this is basis of disqualification, and for sure not getting a finisher’s certificate.  Nonetheless, a medal is given to all such runners who present themselves at the finishing line.  You have to weigh the options of medal and cert or medal only (or even cert only, should you finish and fail/forget to pick a medal.  Of course there is still the option of no-medal-no-cert if you do not finish)

The solution

I was quite good in form while doing the second loop from the 30.5k to 35.5k extreme turning point.  After turning, I could see the ambulance 500m ahead, though it was not busy at least.  I could only see one athlete seated beside the ambulance and I thought I saw another one athlete stretched inside.  The first aid crew was handing over bottles to runners passing by.  That is where I made a deliberate stop to consume one full bottle of 300ml, then took off with a second.

The solution that they usually give us is something that I do not know.  It takes bad!  It is something I would not take on an ordinary day – but on the day of the marathon, you cannot argue with the health professionals – just do what they say.  Maybe they make it taste bad to prevent runners from taking it at all (or substantially)?  The stuff is neither sweet nor sour.  It is more of salty with some bad colour that is one of those shades of pink.  It is just a bad solution that keeps runners running.  It worked last year and I was confident that it would work this year round.  I took little sips of this remaining 300ml over the second loop all the way to Nyayo stadium on the 40.5km mark.  I now just had a 1.5km stretch, run past the stadium, over the railway running underneath Uhuru highway flyover and back to the stadium.

Nothing, repeat, nothing was now going to stand on my way to finishing this run.  My neck was tired and it was a great effort lifting my head of keeping a steady gaze.  My legs were tired.  Coincidentally, the left leg that had given me trouble over the last month, and where I had put lots of attention in terms of massage and medication, is what became the stable leg during the run.  Surprisingly, it is the right leg that was on top form all along that started aching on the 30.5km mark when I just started on the second loop on Mombasa road.  It was an ache that I could manage for the rest of the run, but it is the coincidence that gave me lessons learnt, that expect the unexpected, despite all good plans.  But since the morning I was learning the same lesson anyway.

No through way

With the 42km ending at the same place, on the same route as the 21km, and with the higher volume of runners on the 21km event, the finish lane that stretches from Nyayo to Haile Sellasie avenue finish line was full of runners, rather walkers.  Even running through was a problem.  This was the most difficult stretch of all.  You are tired, you want to finish off the run but your forward movement is now blocked and… there is nothing you can do about it.  You are so tired you cannot even speak!

There was lots of confusion at the finish line.  It was difficult to know where the respective finish points for the two categories of runs was.  The supposed finish line was full of athletes who had jammed and blocked the area as they took photos and selfies.  There was no signage to indicate the medal collection points for the various runs.  There was no one to restore any order.  It was virtually impossible to cross the finish line, which was completely blocked by stationary athletes.  It was chaotic!

I stopped my timer at 3.50.39 and somewhere got a medal in exchange for the torn-off lower part of the runner number 1301.  Though my timer indicated a distance of 41.10km, the marked route was actually 42.125km.  I did not care about the error of 1km on my timer.  I did not care whether the winner in the men’s run clocked 02.12.39 and 02.31.41 for the women’s event – taking home KShs.1.5M each.  I did not want to know that the 21km was won in 01.03.26 and 01.11.04 in the men and women categories respectively, each bagging 0.2M as prize money.  Nor did I flinch when I learnt that the 10km had been won in a lightning speed of 00.29.14 and 00.32.23 – a 0.11M windfall for each in the men and women runs.  I was just happy that I had finished the run while running on my two and was still as energetic as never before.

Now, finally, the real joy of the marathon – meeting with colleagues and confirming that all did finish their various runs.  It is a moment of happiness.  It is a moment of joy.  It is a moment of celebration.  There is no other feeling than this feeling.  Taking that final group photo.  Saying, “we did it!”.  I did not even remember that I was forced to run an extra 2km.  I did not care that 42 was 44.  I was just glad that another marathon is gone.  I am now retired from the 42km, but who knows…. There is no run like the 42.  Even if it is a 44.

Barack Wamkaya Wanjawa, Nairobi, Kenya, December 2, 2017

Mater Hear Run 2016 - record breaking with a dream

Mater Hear Run 2016 - record breaking with a dream

Top 10
That I was a top 10 finisher in Mater Heart run 2016 is quite something.  I did not plan for it though.  It just happened.  When I woke up at 4.50am to start my morning on this good Saturday May 21st morning, I was in fact contemplating on just doing a walk, instead of a run.  After all, this is not a competitive run.  All participants get a certificate of participation, even if they do not leave the confines of Nyayo stadium when the run starts. 

I was just in the group of first 10 runners who squeezed past the matching brass band to get some space from the human chain setup by G4S guards just behind the band.  This ‘squeezing out’ occurred out of the stadium on Aerodrome road, where I started my stopwatch at 8.05am.  From there I did not look back.  I found myself hitting Mombasa road with the first group of ten and maintained this by Haile Sallasie avenue turnoff.  One athlete overtook me as we started the uphill towards Kenyatta hospital, however, after hitting the gravel for over 6 minutes, he gave up on the hill run and let me run past.  My pace was good.  The weather was good.  It was just a good day for a good run.

There was a final twist as we reached Nyayo stadium to approach the finish.  Instead of getting back to Aerodrome road past the Kenol petrol station and straight to the finish, the organizers decided that we had to run round the outer perimeter of the stadium back to where we started.  This was all good, save for the fact that this is the same road where late starters were found starting the run.  These were the school parties.  This section was full.  I had to almost collide with several children who were not even looking ahead as they started the run.

“Cheki huyo jamaa anamaliza,” a kid said loudly, pointing in my direction.
“Na sisi ndo tuna anza!,” someone among the group filing the tarmac, forcing me to run to the extreme, next to the perimeter fence, said.
I knew what was ahead of them… but did not join them in their conversation.  I left the discovery them, without envy.

I faced a “what the?” moment just a few paces later, when I turned to get to the stadium and found these G4S bouncers forcing all to stop to be frisked (again)!  Who in their right mind obstructs a runner heading to the finish line!
“You can’t be serious!,” I thought of saying.  I did not say.
Momentarily I was at the stadium to do a final lap, clockwise, to the finishing point.  I stopped the timer with a 0.37.18 and distance check of 8.13km.

Finish
It just hit me that I was in the top ten, when I saw some seven or so runners ahead of me, restrained by the barrier, warming down, and kind-of lining up next to someone with a mike.  It did not take me long to observe that he was a member of KTN television crew.  While still absorbing the shock of the moment, the reporter who was interviewing a runner next to me, just cleared with him and moved towards me, mic in hand and made introductory remarks.
“Mimi ni mwana habari wa KTN News na tunapeperusha matangazo ya Mater Heart Run laivu Kenya nzima,” he started.  

I could not see a cameraman anywhere near him.  That gave me the confidence to talk to him.  Who wanted to be beamed Kenyawide (and worldwide, as they claim to have a presence online and in East Africa?).  Isn’t it in the public domain that media can ‘destroy’ even the toughest?
“Hebu nieleze, ni matarisho gani uliyafanya ndiposa ukawa mmoja wa kumi bora kwa mashindano ya mwaka huu?”

After a serious of four of so questions, he let me go as he continued his interviews.  Surprise hit me when I saw the camera man standing about 30m from the point of interview on an elevated platform inside the playing field.

“I saw you on live TV,” that was the first phone call that I got while on my way back from the stadium.
“You can have jokes when you mean to,” was my answer to the caller.  Partly due to the reality check that had now downed on me and partly due to the effects of the Red bull.

But was this really real?  I contemplated how the day turned out as I dozed off in the vehicle, provided by the employer, taking my team back home from the stadium.  I dreamt back to two weeks ago…

Dinner table
“Hebu taste hii nini, eh, hii something.  It tests funny,” Solomon said pushing the cocktail to the centre of the table where six had sat, three on either side, having dinner.
“Not me – I have just taken a Sambuca and it does not mix with that,” Mercy was the first to respond.
“No way!  That and this?,” Jannet pointed to her glass, the bottom lined with things that looked like leaves, “… haiwesmake”
The three on one side of the table had had their say.
On the opposing side, Charles just shook his head in response.
“I don’t do milk,” I said.  This was my observation of this whitish stuff in the cocktail glass.  It has to be.
“Manze, we kunywa hiyo something.  That is how a colada tastes,” Mercy was the final authority.  The rest of us just stared, without experience.

Anyway, everyone had ordered their favourite and there was nobody tasting nobody else’s drink.  Why then did each of us take their sweet time to scrutinize the menu and order?
“Nothing with alcohol,” Solomon had said loudly, in a manner of seeking inputs from those around the table.  We have always known him as a teetotaler and does not say much.  He is the type who can close his ears at the mention of body parts.  It is impossible for him to say some words in the human atlas.

“Manze, tafuta cocktail,” Mercy had started him off.
“Take water!,” was an easy suggestion from yours truly, but seems like water is laced or what? Since this is a suggestion that all frowned at.
“Kunywa a colada.  Manze hiyo ni cocktail ingine poa sana.  I like it myself,” Mercy again.  
All agreed.  In fact, in terms of experience, I believe that she was the most experienced in the world of drinks, having sampled a wide variety.  Some of the people on the table were sworn to some brands that the waiter just serves without asking.

“Basi, colada.  Mimi niletee colada.  Nonalcoholic,” Solomon made his final choice.
“Virgin,” the waiter said.
“What!?,” the six said almost simultaneously, to the shock of the waiter.  
He composed himself and repeated, “Virgin. Virgin colada.”
“Ooohhh.  Si ungesema!  Usiseme ‘virgin’, sema ‘colada’,” Charles offered free advice.
Why again was Solomon offering his drink for tasting?  Is it that we did not have our own drinks?

A la what?
It had been a daylong meeting, with a parked agenda.  It was a real relief to finally break for the day with dinner and a drink.  The dinner, described as ‘a la carte’ did not take long to arrive.  It did, about 30 minutes after ordering.  I was informed that it can be worse, depending on the establishment and what is ordered.  For example, if you order fish, then make sure you can wait for them to fish.  Do not start me on ordering mushrooms.  Thinking about it, is the English language so poor in voc that there is no translation for ‘a la carte’?

We managed to discuss the drinks menu during small talk at this dinner table.  On the page of cocktails: 
‘Dirty Lemonade’ – do they expect you to drink that?
‘Saint and sinners’ – let me just leave it at that, no comment
‘Dawa’ – I like that
‘Kitandani’ – I don’t like that.  Is it meant to knock you down to bed or you should take it while in bed or there is something that I am missing.
‘Virgin colada’ – they explained it as the drink without alcohol.  It has an alcoholic sibling called ‘Pina’
There were others.

Shock was yet to hit us when we reviewed the next page on the cocktails menu.  I cannot even fathom writing anything about them.  Let me leave it at that and let it slip...  No way, the temptation is just too much…
‘Screw driver’ – I will stick to froth!
‘Grenade’ – They can’t be serious.  You can swallow that and live to tell the tale?
‘Screaming O’ – it is x-rated.
‘Slippery N’ – this may not be x, but it is not in the normal day time lingua.

V or P
When the time to settle the bill came, about thirty minutes after Solomon had all of a sudden decided to leave, even offering to give the gals a good night kiss! (shock on us by this offer), we were a bit surprised at the content and final amount.  The amount was a bit higher than we had calculated over time (maybe we were a bit drunk and we could not calculate properly anymore) and the list of items partaken was different from what we had thought we had ordered over time (maybe we were surely drunk, not just a bit).
“Reconfirm this bill,” we beckoned the waiter as we bottomed-up our glasses/bottles, ready to leave.
“Reconfirmed, it is correct!,” was his response.  He did not even move.
“No it is not!,” we started almost at once.  Feeling excited and buoyed by the effect of fermented sugars in our bloodstream.
“We did not order no Pina colada,” Jannet pointed out the receipt to the waiter, “I told you this bill is wrong!,” she looked as excited as someone who had proved a point.
The waiter stepped back and went to the bar to reconfirm.  He looked like one who did not like this apparent defeat.
Five minutes later, “I have confirmed it is correct,” he looked triumphant, like someone having the last laugh, “‘Virgin’ was not available, so we served ‘Pina’ instead”
“OMG!,” we all shouted!!
No wonder Solomon was talking trashy and buoyed like all the rest of us!!!


“Red bull!,” I heard from afar...
Someone shook me as I regained consciousness, “Give these colleagues a Red bull each.  They did not take theirs while at the stadium,” Joan sitting next to me on the van nudged me.
The van had come to a stop and staff were already alighting.  I was back home already.  Dream and reality fighting for prevalence on my mind.

What a Mater Heart run 2016!!

Barack Wamkaya Wanjawa, Nairobi, Kenya, May 21, 2016

First Lady’s marathon 2015 – The story that is yet to be written

First Lady’s marathon 2015 – The story that is yet to be written

I cannot believe that it has taken me 2-weeks of waiting, just to fail to write this story.  This relates to the second edition of the First Lady’s marathon that took place at Nairobi’s Nyayo Stadium on Sunday, March 8, 2015.

I was eager to have this run.  I had missed the inaugural one last year and I surely needed some experience of this type of run added to my running CV.  I also subscribe to the cause - the quest to ensure that each of the 47 counties have access to maternal healthcare.  Though we gathered for the run that was to start at seven from 7.00am, it was not until just around quarter past the hour, did we start this run.  Good riddance though, since I was at the risk of missing out on the start.  I had to sprint from University Way to Nyayo stadium, after my matatu delayed on the route from Uthiru, dropping me near the uni just 10 minutes to seven.

The excitement at the starting line was high.  It became worse with the arrival of the first lady, as the starting line was literally swarmed by runners who were surely not runners.  The first lady and group took the front line, while the rest of us runners were pushed back about twenty meters.

When the run was flagged off, the runners overtook the first lady’s running group, though they had to do this by running past them through the narrow passage on the extreme left or right of this group.  The madam was completely enveloped by these ‘runners’.  I know that running is no mean feat, and would therefore not want to discredit any of my compatriots, but these shield of humanity around madam 1 were surely not the regular type.  I passed them about 30 seconds after the start of run, and noticed the bulge on the right trouser pockets of at least four of them, when I overtook them from the right size.  It left little to the imagination that the ‘chicken foot’ was surely the hidden culprit – without a doubt.

Being in the first group of runners, I was able to avoid the crowds that usually obstruct the running path after the starting point.  I therefore did my run on a relatively less crowded route as we did the first round of run through Upper Hill then Mbagathi road.  My pace was good, though I did not have a stop watch.  I know this, because I was back to the stadium after the half-run mark when the city clock was at about the 8.00am mark.  Later on, as I hit the Mombasa road stretch, towards the Ole Sereni Hotel turning point, the first runners were heading back to the stadium, with the lead vehicle showing a 0.47.15 time.

I did not know my time as at the extreme turning point on Mombasa road back to the stadium.  It was however a relief that I would now just be facing the last 5km.  Mid-way through my way back, I met the First Lady’s team on the other side of the road – running alongside a large convoy of vehicles.  I could smell power, but just momentarily, since I had to keep going onto my destination.  I also started feeling tired, though I did not let this show, nor did I desire to slow down.  In fact, I started thinking of breaking some sort of record on this run, which I had planned for a time of 1.35 to 1.40.

The finishing was not spectacular – just crossing the timing mat and being ‘forced’ out of the stadium, where there was no water, no medal and no certificate.  The only presence was water on sale and the big contingent of armed security personnel.  I checked my post office box, took with me the few mail items and started my walk out of the stadium and back home.  I joined my colleague JC, who had finished his 10km run, at the Bunyala road roundabout, and walked the 5km upto Westlands.  He left for his residence near Westlands, while I got  a matatu to bring me back to Uthiru.

I had a gut-feeling that I had broken some sort of record in this run.  From the only evidence that I had, being the time stamp on the photos that I took at start time and at the finish ramp, my time calculation was in the 1.34-1.36 range.  It was easy to know the timing for the mens event winner, who clocked 1.01.28 and his ladies compatriot who conquered in 1.04.05.  They had their timing conspicuously displayed on the lead car and elaborately discussed in the media.  However, for me, the final time could only be proved by the official time that the organizers promised to release on Monday at 4.00pm.  I know this because I saw a poster to that effect when I went to pick my run Tshirt from the event exhibition centre at KICC, three days before the run.  I recall seeing the same message flashing through the organizers website the whole of Saturday, one day to the run.

OK – This is why I decided not to write this story – I was expecting to confirm a record breaking time… but two weeks down the running road, the organizers website still states that, “Certificates Coming Soon”, while showing a few people having medals that they won during the event.  Which event, again?

Barack Wamkaya Wanjawa, Nairobi, Kenya, Sunday, March 22, 2015

Of Cheating Snakes and New Running Routes – The Story of Nairobi Marathon 2013

Of Cheating Snakes and New Running Routes – The Story of Nairobi Marathon 2013

Cheating
“Jimama liziiiima linadanganywa na nyoka”, his eminence had said, to a congregation that responded by loud laughter.  Cardinal Njue, the Catholic Church's Archbishop of Nairobi was delivering a summon as the church prepared to give Holy Communion for the very first time to its new congregants on this second of November date.  It was a Saturday, my otherwise usual day of service, though I was in another church deep at the suburbs of Karen at the Resurrection gardens.  The Cardinal’s statement was in reference to the Adam and Eve story, and probably a warning to women not to be cheated by snakes – literally or figuratively.

All this was going on while my mind wondered about my Nairobi Marathon 2013 performance.  I had deliberately failed to write the blog story.  In fact, a colleague back at the office had voiced this omission loudly when I passed by his department immediately after the marathon,
“I have not seen the marathon story on your blog”
“Am buying time.  The new route needs a completely new story, which am working on,” I responded.
The truth was that I was not working on anything, I was just buying time, with good reason.
“You know,” he continued, “there is no marathon without the blog story.”
I also knew that there was no blog without the marathon.  Now that the event had occurred, I surely needed to do what was expected.

While the church continued with the rituals to usher in the new congregants, I continued to think about the marathon…

Good time
I write this almost one month since the marathon.  This is deliberate.  I wanted to know my run time on the new route before I can talk about it.  The certs are now out and I managed a 1.35.33 on the new 21.098km course.

The 2013 Nairobi Marathon was held on Sunday, October 27, 2013 on a new route.  The new route was not very bad.  In fact, the Ndakaini marathon route remains the route to beat.  I did not expect the new route to be unmanageable, having done the Ndakaini about one month prior.  When I was explaining the route to my running group, one month to due date, I remember telling them that this shall be a run of ‘many hills’.  My mail had indicated that…
“We shall run the (museum) hill then (upper) hill…”

Long run
I had quite a number of participants in my team this time around, thanks for the corporate sponsorship of fifty.  This was after three failed attempts to convince the management that runs are good for its staff.  I even managed to get an official mini-bus to transport the participants to and from the Nyayo stadium venue.  However, none of my team members dared the 42km run.  I did not dare it myself since I did not want to try this long run on a new route that I was not yet familiar with.

The run day had one of the best weathers – cool with the sun from afar.  I was almost in perfect shape, apart from the stomach that had decided to do a run with me.  In fact, I almost canceled my participation due to the condition of my tummy.  Nonetheless, I found myself on the 21km starting lineup that was flagged off at exactly 7.30am, thanks to a sudden relief that I experienced.

The first part of the run was nothing to write about.  We were just running opposite the direction of the last marathon.  The stretch from Nyayo to Haile Sellasie road loop, then Harambee avenue loop and finally University way loop was uneventful.  If anything, I was really running fast.  I recall hitting the 4km mark at 17minutes and 6km at 25minutes.  If I could maintain this pace, then I was capable of doing 18km in 1hr 15min and probably the last 3km in 15min.  That would mean a 1hr30min run – a new record by all accounts.

The hills
My dream of breaking a record was not to be.  The Museum Hill stretch then flyover took a good amount of my energy, even as my unstable stomach haunted me the whole stretch upto the 10km turning point at Parklands.  The return journey was a struggle but I maintained good pace and was not surprised to find myself doing the Parklands – UON route quite steadily, then the UON – Uhuru Park route at almost the same pace.  The Upper Hill was not that tough, as I soon found myself on Bunyala road with a right time to the stadium, just after the railway flyover.  I turned towards the stadium at about 1hr27min and was surely headed for a record when I saw the 18km marker!

This marker almost ended my run right there, outside the stadium.  I had thought that I would be running straight to the entrance of the stadium then to the stadium but that was not to be.  We were to go past the stadium towards Nairobi West, then back on Langata Road to Mombasa Road, then back to Langata Road to rejoin the route to the stadium.  It took sheer strength and willpower to tackle these last 3km.  I just finished the run in good time for my stubborn stomach to start on me.

Future plans
As we took photos with team members and congratulated each other for another run done, all agreed that that 18km marker was a mistake and the next route should finish straight at the stadium instead of being near yet so far from the finish line.  We also complained about the sponsor asking the runners to 'go digital today', as printed at the back of the running kits, yet our Analogue team aka ENG-thoners are quite comfortable where we were.  Isn't this coercion?  In reflection, I note that this route is not that bad and can be beaten in under 1.35, especially if you are ready for the surprise that the 18km marker presents.  On that note, I need to start preparing for the 42km on the new route, which is just the 21km augmented by another 21km on the Mombasa route double circuit.


Barack W. Wanjawa, Nairobi, Kenya, November 23, 2013

Sotokoto marathon 2013 – too much water

Sotokoto marathon 2013 – too much water

Collapsed
I just collapsed on the seat and momentarily dozed off.  I tried keeping my eyes open, but the eyelids were just too heavy, so I let them fall.  The cause of this state started one week ago, when I logged onto an online site and filled in a simple registration form, followed by an automatic charge of 1,050/= on my bank card.  Fast forward to two days ago, when I finalized the preparation by picking a running Tshirt, runner number 2917 and a carrying bag.

Last Friday, on the date of collecting the kit, the runners guide was missing from the package.  I notice this after travelling through town to Uhuru Gardens, where I was turned back to AutoExpress, just opposite the gardens, where Sotokoto had setup a registration centre.  Without the guide, I had a few questions that the attendant did not have answers:
“Where is the runners guide?,” I asked, after perusing the contents of the bag.
“They are not available”
“Not at all, or they are finished?”
The lady looked at me with puzzlement written all over her face, then, “Am not sure”
“Why are you here if you have no information?,” I felt like asking, but the more diplomatic question that came from my mouth was, “When does the run start?”
As if caught offguard, she looked up once more, from some scribbling that she was doing, in the process of registering another runner, then confirmed, “Am not sure”
I was already counting 10 to 1, and she could sense it.  So she added, “I think it shall start 6.30am”

Spoilt for choice
I have to give it to Sotokoto 2013 of Sunday, July 07, 2013 – the course was actually like a river bed, with water, water everywhere.  I was so hydrated that I had one of the best runs in a long time.  The weather was however chilly, forcing our body systems to take up a lot of energy to keep warm.  There were three runs on the cards – 5km juniors and family fun run, 10km open run and 21km main event.  The first run started about 8.30am, though the programme, which they gave us as we arrived at Uhuru Gardens for today’s run, indicated that this should have started at 7.15am.

At 8.45am, instead of the scheduled 8.00am, the 10km run was ‘gunned off’, by the Governor of Nairobi County, Dr. Kidero.  (It could not have been flagged off, since there was no flag - only a pistol on Kidero's hand).  The main even runners trooped immediately behind the disappearing sea of humanity in the 10k run, and started jostling for the vantage front line positions.  Threats of disqualification did not seem to move the athletes back to the starting line.  In fact the front runners attempted two false starts, much to the chagrin of the organizers.  With so much excitement in the air, the organizers somehow managed to push the athletes to the starting line, which was located just outside Uhuru Gardens gates on the main Langata road.  Without warning, the starting gun fired at 9.00am, forcing me to push the start button on my split timer.  I was at the back of the runners, who were not so many.  I would put a figure of about five hundred.

One trick you should learn as a runner is to study the map and formulate a running strategy.  I had gotten the runners guide in the morning and had fully studied the route.  It was generally downhill for the first 3km, then a gentle uphill to Nyayo stadium, then almost flat on Mombasa road upto the turning point at 10.5km mark.  Thereafter, the return route would generally be flat, until the last 3km of uphill to the finish line.  The strategy was to take a fairly fast, but comfortable run to the 10.5km mark, then try to maintain the pace back to Nyayo stadium then Mbagathi road roundabout.  The final 3km was uphill and needed willpower due to the lowered strength levels that would be expected after over one hour of run.

Running by the book
Alas, the run occurred as per strategy.  I left among the group at the back and started to quicken the pace, overtaking a good number of runners by Mbagathi roundabout.  By Nyayo stadium, the crowd had thinned out and it was a matter of keeping the pace and running your race.  The weather was cold, almost chilly.  Nonetheless, water is a must and I picked a 300ml bottle at almost every point, keeping the container at hand till the next water point where I could discard and get a replenishment.  However, the water points were just so many that I had to bypass some without a refill, since I still had my water bottle almost full.

This run has no timing chip.  Many runners did not do the 21km, in fact the only guaranteed distance was 10.5km, since we had to dip our hands into blue ink in some basins held by organizers at the 10.5km turning point, just near Cabanas.  I did the ink dip and U turn at a split time of 0.44.00.  There was nothing eventful about the last half of the run, just a torturous stretch of 3km to the finish line.  With each passing ‘k’, the body starting getting fatigue.  Whenever I discarded an almost empty water bottle, I felt like having thrown away 5kg off my hand.  But I had to keep a water bottle handy at all times.  I therefore had to live with the ‘5kg’ load. 

Despite the good hydration, just like their Nairobi Marathon counterparts, Sotokoto failed to provide the distance markers.  In fact the only event was a board with the number 20km, just opposite Wilson Airport, which I interpreted as the 20km marker.  But this was a first – a packet of biscuits and another small pack of 200ml ‘yojus’ branded juice.  I stopped my timer at 1.32.00.

Win or nothing
Some entertainment followed – music, dance, skits, zangalewa dancers.  Finally, the winners were feted.  The 2013 honours went to: Valentine Kipketer, Georgina Rono and Purity Kimeto as the top three ladies, while Joseph Colins took the men’s title followed by Philemon Rono and Stephen Chemlany.  We were not given information on the final timing, but since I met the leading group on Mombasa road when I had clocked 0.33.00, I suspect the winner shall have a time of 1.00.00 to 1.03.00.  The top three were awarded cash prices, being 250k, 125k and 50k respectively.  The runner guide indicated that those in positions four to six would also be awarded 30k, 20k and 10k.

Even as more entertainment was unleashed, including some hard-hitting mchongoano, then an interesting Maasai dance, I finally had to leave the venue – with nothing!  Yes, Sotokoto had once again, in its 4th edition, since the inaugural run of 2009, failed to give runners anything to show for the run.  I even had to hand over the small piece of paper, with number 235 written on it, which I had been given upon hitting the finish line.  Surely Sotokoto, not even a certificate of participation if you cannot afford medals? 

I shook my head in disbelief, as I was jolted back to reality….

Mwisho
“Uthiru mwisho!, Uthiru mwisho!,” I heard from my subconscious, and struggled to open my eyes.  The matatu that had carried me from University Way had reached its final destination.  The makanga was asking passengers to disembark.
“Faster, faster,” he continued, as I struggled with lethargy to get out of the matatu.

How did I get here?  I started recalling how I woke up in the morning and travelled to town, then Uhuru Gardens, where I arrived by 7.00am.  I remember participating in a run.  I remember leaving Uhuru Gardens around 12.30pm.  Did I even pass by Nyayo Stadium to have a peek at my PO box?  I must have got another matatu to town, alighted at Haile Sellasie Avenue and walked past the seats of power – Office of the President on the right and Office of Deputy President on my left at Harambee avenue.  That is how I must have walked to University Way.

Wanjawa, W. B. – Nairobi, Kenya, Sunday, July 07, 2013

Nairobi International Marathon 2012

Nairobi International Marathon 2012

The event
The Nairobi International Marathon, 2012 edition takes place on Sunday, October 28, 2012 at Nairobi's Nyayo stadium from 7.00am.

Registrations are open at the organizer's website - nairobimarathon

Registration fees remain KShs.1,000.00 for single participation in any of the run categories.  Registration points are all Stanchart banks countrywide and major supermarkets in Nairobi.

The first edition of this run was held in 2003.  As we participate in the magical 10th edition, you need to consider your preparedness.  The various runs need different training regimes.  Whether seasoned or first timer - training is a must.  The duration and intensity of the training varies though, depending on the run category and whether you have done a similar run before.

Run categories
The various run categories in the 2012 edition are:
a) 42km full marathon - to start at 7.00am (6.30am assembly)
b) 21km half marathon - to start at 7.30am (7.00am assembly)
c) 10km run - to start at 8.50am (7.30am assembly)
d) 4km family fun run - to start at 9.20am (8.00am assembly)

I participated in my first run at this event in 2007, doing the 21km run in my debut.  I followed it with three consecutive 42km runs.  Last year, at the height of terrorism threat in Nairobi, I was persuaded to skip the run altogether.  Even the sponsor pulled out in the last minute.  However, this did not stop me from participating in the 21km run, albeit without the participation of my team.

This year am keen to do another 21km.  I have not trained much, with a series of events in the year conspiring to keep me out of the running routes.  Nonetheless, I have a 8-week window of opportunity to train, participate and post good time in this year's event.

Training schedule
The 8-week training schedule (21km run) is shown below:
(Note week 1 starts Sunday, Sep. 2, 2012, while week 8 starts Sunday, Oct. 21, 2012)
Week 1 - Monday, Wednesday, Friday runs (45min to 1hr each run)
Week 2 - Monday, Wednesday, Friday runs (45min to 1hr each run)
Week 3 - Monday, Wednesday, Friday, weekend runs (45min to 1hr each run, weekend run 1hr30min)
Week 4 - Monday, Wednesday, Friday, weekend runs (45min to 1hr each run, weekend run 1hr30min)
Week 5 - Monday, Wednesday, Friday, weekend runs (45min to 1hr each run, weekend run 1hr30min)
Week 6 - Monday, Wednesday, Friday, weekend runs (45min to 1hr each run, weekend run 1hr30min)
Week 7 - Monday, Wednesday, Friday runs (45min to 1hr each run)
Week 8 - week of rest, 3 walks, each 30 minutes (Monday, Wednesday, Friday)
Week 9 - Sunday, October 28, 2012 - run day

Important note - carry along some water, and take at least 500ml for any run over 1hr.  Consume about 250ml extra for any additional half hour or part thereof.

The same schedule can be adopted for a 10km run, with a little flexibility.  A 42km event needs a much longer preparation.  However, if you are participating in this, just to 'finish the run', then the above schedule can help you out.  Ensure that you do one 2hr30min to 3hr run at least in Week 5 or 6.  However, expect to finish the run, with some difficulty, about 5hrs later.

Ten reasons
Why bother with this (or any other run):
- running, a form of physical exercise is good for your health
- these runs, and the preps enables you to take a break out of your busy schedule, hence helpful in giving you a balance in work and play
- the runs help you see and experience the outdoors (and there are many things at the outdoors - read my previous experiences from earlier posts)
- on the event day, you get to see one of the largest crowds gathered for a good cause
- the Nairobi International marathon is for a good cause.  The proceeds help those who can not afford expensive eye surgeries at various hospitals in Kenya (Kapsabet, Kapenguria, Iten, Kikuyu, Kwale, Sabatia, Tenwek).  For this initiative, KShs.17M was raised during the 2011 event
- the sense of achievement after the run is just too great to miss
- legs (and usually the whole body) aches for a few days after the event.  This is good for the body - a one off strain/stress to improve its immunity
- it gives you an opportunity to meet friends
- there are good photography moments
- you get an excuse to run alongside the greatest runners in Kenya and the world

Registrations close Sunday, October 21, 2012, with online registrations closing on October 24.

See you all on Sunday, October 28, 2012 at the 21km starting line.