One week that I would like to forget

One week that I would like to forget

If there is ever a challenge that I usually dread, then that challenge can only be the 5-runs-in-5-days challenge.  The organizers, MOE*, make it sound and feel like a simple 5-in-5, but the real run is in the details.  The intention is to ‘simply’ do one run every day, Monday to Friday, during the designated week.  The designated week for the February 5-in-5 was the week of Feb. 12.  The MOE makes the run sweeter by keeping it open and to the discretion of the runner, hence virtually no rules  – any run, any distance, any time, provided it is within those five days.
*MOE – marathoners of expert

Day 1
Monday, Feb. 12 was another hot day.  I am not used to the overhead sun that seems to stay overhead the whole day.  It burns the bald like hell and it does not relent.  However, this was day 1 and I was just from my two-day weekend rest.  I assumed that I had cheated the sun by going for the run in the evening, leaving at 4.40pm, but I was in for a surprise.  The sun was still hot and burning.  The sun this year has somehow increased its burn-rate.  It hits the skin and penetrates to the dermis then straight to the blood stream.  When that happens, you start by getting lethargic and soon thirsty and dehydration sets in hardly five minutes into the run.

I had intended to do a half marathon on day 1, then do short 5ks for the rest of the days.  However, that sun on day 1 put a halt on that plan.  I was not going to do any run more than an hour in this furnace.  I decided to settle on a short 10k run, which would mean running from Uthiru, through Kapenguiria road, to Lower Kabete tarmac junction and back.  It is the usual IKM 10k route.  I left at 4.40pm and survived the sun.  I was energetic on this first day and the run was quite enjoyable even as I finished the run at 5.50pm.  I had missed out on a record by doing 5.01min/km – that 01!?  Anyway, the 14.3k was a good day 1 run.  I did not think much about the other runs.  If day 1 was this good, then there should be nothing to it.


Day 2
I woke up with some pain on my right leg.  That very leg that almost messed up my Stanchart marathon last October.  I thought nothing much of it, apart from that maybe it was a result of that 2.5km hill from the river to Waiyaki way that is dreaded by all runners on that Kapenguria road.  It should subside, I thought of this pain.  I went on with my events for the day, skipping another temptation to run at the lunch hour, and deciding to do another evening run.

I wanted to ease the pain on my leg and hence decided to do the IKM ‘inner circle’ merry-go-round run.  This is a round-and-round run over the 1.3km circuit on the tarmac of the work compound.  It starts with a 400m of hill then a short flat section, then another 400m of downhill, then another flat section.  The route therefore keeps alternating between up and down on every circuit and it is a real test of endurance.  The sun remained hot, but running was still a must.  Twelve go-arounds resulted into a 16.2km run in 4.57min/km average.  I had finally broken the 5 barrier.  I was elated, but just briefly, since I was already limping by the time I hit the showers, and struggled home with the pain on the right leg.


Day 3
It was Valentine’s day.  For the first time in like forever I did not visibly see any roses anywhere within the staff desks.  The colour red did not seem to manifest much.  I would later see some ladies take some pics with a bouquet of flowers near the auditorium.  It was one big bunch being passed around the group of three, each taking a photo-op with it.  It did not register much, though I thought it was a bit funny.

I had already decide that I would do an evening run.  I would not risk the mid-day burn.  However, my leg was paining so badly that I was walking with a slight limp.
“This 5-in-5 is a bad idea,” I muttered subconsciously as I headed to the safety office to get some ointment.  I had already checked on all the first aid boxes on my way, and everything was in those boxes, apart from the ointment.

I was starting to doubt whether I would manage a third run, but I was still doing everything ‘by faith’ at this point in time.  I got to the safety office when the bus was just about to leave at 4.30pm.
“Sorry, deep heat is the only thing that you cannot get,” they told me.
“So, what can I get?”
“Anything else”
“But nothing else can help me at this point in time?”
“Blame the forces that take it from the boxes, I can swear that we usually refill”

Anyway, I managed to get one small tube after more search with their assistance.  That gel brought some relief and I was ready to hit the road by 4.40pm.  I wanted to go out there and face that Wangari Mathai hill once again.  But that was not to be….
“NCA are looking for you,” the person on the other side of the phone told me.
“Can it wait?, I was just preparing for an important evening run!”
“No, can’t wait, hawa watu wanataka kutu-arrest”

This was too sudden and unexpected.  What arrest?  What NCA?  What the hech is going on?  I did not even have time to say yes, before I heard a strange voice on the other side of the line.
“I am from NCA, I am arresting your fundi,” the strange tone on the other side said.
“But who are you?, why are you arresting my worker?,” I asked, not sure of what I should ask.
“I am from NCA, and we are inspecting your site, and your foreman has no papers?”
“But why are you on site, I mean, this is an internal renovation!,” I was almost losing it.

Why would there be someone called NCA, in a site where he is not invited, doing inspection that he was not called for, arresting a worker whom he did not have a warrant for and calling me, when I am supposed to be going for an important run.  It would take me a lot of phone time, including a disconnection and reconnection, to just tell the guy on the other side that internal works need no permit.  Of course, by then he had demanded to see architectural plans, approved council plans, environmental impact assessment approvals, utilities approval, and that my worker was under arrest for not having an NCA registration certificate, valid, he added.

I went for my Wednesday run at five, completely drained of physical and mental energy, made worse by the last twenty minutes of this evening.  Can you believe that that NCA guy wanted 20k for not seeing the plans and another 10k for my worker who had an NCA 2023 registration instead of a 2024?  I was already many k broke by the time I went for this run of few k!

Based on the late start of run on this date, I decided to do another merry-go-round-run within the compound.  However, my adrenaline was so shot up that I could not manage any better time in those 12 rounds.  I was still happy with my average of 5.17min/km over those 16.33k.  I was a zombie all through, just going through the motions of the run.  I did not even feel any pain on the leg, until I finally took a shower and took a rest around seven, when I started feeling the pain.  That ointment that I had applied earlier seemed to have waned.  I re-ointmented the back of my right leg and walked home.  What a third run day!


Day 4
I was to go to hospital for a scheduled medical check on this Thursday.  I had planned to wake up at seven, then start my 3km walk to the Mountain View clinic.  I had set the alarm for seven, and that is when the phone also came on.  I had hardly checked on incoming messages when I saw a call, with True Caller app indicating that the called was NCA office.  I ignored it.  I prepared to leave and just about 7.30am as I left the house, a second phone call came in.  This did not need True Caller app since I had already saved it as ’the NCA person’.  I ignored it and walked the distance to the clinic.  It did not take long thereafter to see an incoming text.  It was from ‘the NCA person’.  The text was straight to the point “Gari yangu imekwama, nisave na 2thao, nitashukuru”.

I was already having a medical issue to deal with and now this?  I ignored the text and went on with my mission to the medical facility.  I even complained to the doc about aching right leg and got another brand of ointment.  I walked back the three kilometres to the workplace with every step increasing the pain on the back of my right leg, specifically just behind and above the back of the knee.  Folding my leg was becoming a pain in the leg, but I persisted.  I was surely not going to do any more runs.  I was done.  The challenge was good while it lasted, but this was not for me, not at the expense of my leg health.

I was thinking of what I would do when I leave work early on that Thursday, maybe even apply that new ointment by five, then maybe go to bed early.  It is at exactly that moment, around three, that I saw the email that I did not want to see.  It was another brief one, “Coach, we are on for the run today at 4.30pm, usichelewe kama last time”

I almost cried out loudly!  All runners know that Tuesdays and Thursdays is usually a students’ run day, where they book the coach and go for a run.  There is no caveat to the rule, and so I was now suffering from the strictness of my own rules.  Anyway, a students’ run day is not full of run, and hence I was confident that I would somehow make it through those slow runs and walks.

As I prepared to leave with the two trainee runners, I did not know that they had another taste of my own medicine planned.
“Coach, remember today you are taking us to the tarmac for the ten k.  We are not ready, but we shall try”
I had hoped that they shall forget about this 10k debut, and we would stick to the proven 8k route, but I had promised that we were to take this run a notch higher on this day.  I wish that I had not promised this 10k on this day, especially when my leg was hardly movable.  I did not say nothing, I went along, and we did our runs and walks and somehow made it to the Lower Kabete tarmac junction and back.  They registered 10k, I registered 12.15km in 2.10.42.  We had finally broken the 10k barrier with the trainees and it was quite a fete.


Day 5
The new ointment seemed to have worked, since I woke up on Friday with hardly any pain on my leg.  My knee was folding well, and I was not in any discomfort.  I had already done the four runs for the week’s challenge.  The last one run was not going to evade me, even an evening appointment, at the time when I should have been running, could not cancel this run.  I decided to do a lunch hour run and wrap this up.  Using the same route of Monday, I ran to Lower Kabete road junction via Kapenguria road and back.  I left at 12.37pm and was back 1.21.36 later over that 15.25km distance.

Finished.  Done.

Whether I look forward to such a challenge, definitely no!  Whether I shall do this again, not sure, but it sounds too tempting to forego.  

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Sunday, Feb. 18, 2024

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

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

The first marathon since Corona – when the unexpected happens

The first marathon since Corona – when the unexpected happens

The last time we held our regular monthly international marathons was in March 2020 – yes, March 2020.  And even at that time the corona thing almost cancelled that run.  The monthly runs over the 21k distance had by then become a permanent event in our marathoners’ calendar.  It was consistent, it was anticipated, it was a crowd puller, and it was the only talk in our marathoners’ groups.

It was therefore a real relief when the MOE* finally agreed to arrange for the first marathon after corona break.  This run was to the next one that follows the last run held in March, being the April run, albeit April 2022 – 24-months later!

*marathoners of expert – the organizers of the event

However, many things had changed in the 24-months hiatus.  While putting on masks, social distancing, handwashing, sanitizing, curfews, working from home and fear of the unknown had been the language since 2020 towards 2021, the tone had changed to vaccination and return to normal, from late 2021.  By January 2022 the country and most of the world had lifted the mask mandate and rescinded most COVID-19 restrictions.  Working from home had ended and life back to the office had become the norm.  

The world had evolved from 537,042 infections and 24,110 deaths as at March 27, 2020 to 513,670,092 infections and 6,262,095 deaths as at May 2, 2022.  Kenyan numbers were now 323,295 and 5,649 respectively*.  This was a global 1,000 fold increase in infections and 260 times increase in deaths in that 2-year period.  However, the end had now come, with vaccinations, medications and therapeutics halting corona on its heels.  We had moved from calling corona ‘the thing’ (TT) in low toned whispers, to calling it by name and fearing nothing!

*source: worldometers

It therefore did not come as a surprise when the MOE decided to hold the first international marathon of 2022 in the month of April and set the date of the run for the last Friday, as has been the tradition.  The date of Friday April 29 was therefore communicated as the day of the marathon and the runners were asked to start preparing for this inaugural run.  I made this big announcement on April 11.  The organizers were however cognizant that the runners may not be ready for this, having had no serious run in two years, but we had to start somewhere.

I talked to three veteran runners and got their buy in, just to ensure that we could deal with a worst-case scenario where no one turns up.  They all committed to participating in the run.  The month however had many unknowns that would unfold from that date.  To start with, the unexpected would happen, when the former president of the republic of Kenya, Mwai Kibaki passed on on Friday, April 21, hardly one week to our marathon.  It was not long before the Friday when we were to have the marathon was declared a public holiday.

We usually leverage on the fact that we have staff on duty to raise the numbers for the marathon.  That is why we hold the runs on a working day.  A run during a public holiday, when the staff are not on duty, would not be tenable.  We therefore made a last-minute decision, hardly three days to the marathon, that we were rescheduling the run.  The options that we considered were to keep the Friday date, to move the run to the next week or to cancel the run altogether and wait for the next one in May.  

We decided to reschedule it to Thursday, April 28, one day earlier than planned.  It was on the same date of rescheduling that I was got confirmation that two of the three veteran runners were also cancelling their participation due to other engagements.  That meant that the B-and-B team, a persistent pair of runners from pre-corona days, was not getting back in this run.  However, one B was doing this run whatever happens.

The new Thursday date still had its challenges.  We were coming up for a long weekend, with Friday being the day of national mourning, while the Monday of May 2 would also be a holiday that extends Labour day.  It became even more complicated when Tuesday was declared a holiday as Eid-Al-Fitir, to mark the Islamic end of Ramadhan period.  We were facing a 5-day long weekend.  Our runners were likely to be on a holiday mood, than on a running mood come the run-day Thursday.

I however kept hope alive and was still confident of a successful first group run of the year.  I still had one firmed up confirmation for the 21k.  Thursday was it.

The rain started around ten o’clock on the night of Wednesday.  It was still raining when I woke up the next morning at seven, ready for the 1.4km walk to the work place.  The rain continued the whole morning on the run-day Thursday.  It was still drizzling by two in the afternoon.  For all intents and purposes, this run was technically headed for a cancellation.  We could not risk allowing our runners to be out there through the rains.  It was now two hours to the 4pm start time of the 21km run and the rains were not relenting.

We had one other last minute decision to make.  The 21km route, as originally formulated, has a section of about 1.5km through the university farm that is usually impassibly muddy during the rains.  We had not anticipated any rains when formulating the route and had included this section on our map.  We now had to revise the route, hardly 2-hours before the run, to exclude this section.  I was back on Google map to reformulate the route and share with the runners while they still had time to consider the change.

And just like that, the rain stopped, and the sun came up.  This happened at 3.00pm, just one hour to the start of the run.  The run that was surely under cancellation was now back on, on a revised route.

When Edward and I started the run at 4.15pm, I was already about 2km deep into my own run.  This is because I had left the locker room at 3.56pm to the Generator starting point but did not find Edu.  I assumed that he must be waiting at the gate, since the revised route was to start at the gate.  I therefore ran to the gate but still did not find him there.  I tried his phone, but this was futile, since I knew that he does not go running with his phone.  I informed the guards to ask Edu to wait for me, should he come by in my absence, since I had already decided to go back to the Generator once again to see if he was there.  I got to the generator at 4.13pm and found him there waiting.

“Did you see the new route?,” I asked, wondering why we should be starting at the Generator.

“Yes, I did, but it is so tough, that we should just do the original route.”

“But the Uni farm shall be muddy and impassible?”

“Better that, than coming back Wangari Maathai hill”

We therefore reverted to the original route that started at the Generator and off we went.  It was an easy run.  It is a route that I have been to many times, over that distance, including earlier in the month.  This is the usual Uthiru to Kabete Polytechnic, then cross the Waiyaki way to Ndumboini.  From there we were to run down Kapenguria road past Wangari Maathai Institute, all the way to Lower Kabete road.  We would then turn left and run about one kilometre to then turn left towards Mary Leakey school, then the University farm, then emerge at the tank to get to Kanyariri tarmac.  We would then turn right on the tarmac and run to Kanyariri centre for another right all the way to the Gitaru-Wangire road junction, then do a U-turn to run back to Uthiru.  I did not expect any surprises, but… spoke too soon!

When we go to the Uni farm section we were met with our worst fears.  The route did not disappoint!  It was impassably muddy!  I had to reduce my run to a walking pace to enable me traverse most of the sections.  I almost slipped and fell at some of the sections.  Edu was somewhere behind as I could decipher his footsteps in the quietness of the farm section.

We finally emerged at the tank and joined Kanyariri road tarmac.  It was then a smooth run all the way to Gitaru-Wangige underpass where we did our U-turn on the 13k mark, and then ran back all the way to our starting point at the Generator.  I stopped my timer with a reading of 24.03km in 2:36:43.  The first IKM International marathon, the very first group run of 2022, was now done.  We had proved that it was possible to resume our marathons, despite the various hiccups that came our way. 

WWB, the coach, Nairobi, Kenya, May 2, 2022

Running into a taxi business with a twist... four twists

Running into a taxi business with a twist... four twists

Today I added one more view to the most viewed videos on YouTube.  I was just curious to know what makes the billion-view videos be worth their ‘B’ achievement.  It is a question that I had already asked a few members of a ‘friends’ group to contribute to not so long ago.  They had told me that such a B-viewer video needs to appeal to, or be for…. guess…. the kids!  And surely video number 1 was a kids’ video – with 9.81B + 1 from me!  It was a sobering reminder of what the innocence of the young can achieve.

But it was not long when I had another kids’ discussion, but in a different context.  That was last Saturday, just seven days ago.  I was eventually travelling from TRM on Thika Road on a taxi.  I was coming back to Uthiru after a day out, probably the first time out of my comfort zone in over a year.  Even that three hour stay in that mall had already been a too much outing based on circumstances.  You know what to blame for this situation of not going anywhere else don’t you?  Of course, corona, silly!

So, the discussion started with kids as I was seated on the taxi from TRM about seven in the evening.  The driver who had already told me to cancel the Uber request and pay the indicated amount offline was driving smoothly on the almost deserted Thika road towards Pangani.  He had already lamented that the app only benefited the app.  He had said that the drivers were hardly even getting the crumbs, since they had no say in how the fares were being set nor were they even employees of Uber.

We were discussing corona in general, and why we would soon be having another lockdown in Kenya, or even not at all.  The pros for a lockdown was due to the ‘new Omicron’ variant of corona virus, while the cons were ‘the youth’.  Omicron has just been ‘discovered’, of technically speaking, had just been ‘sequenced’ in South Africa on November 24, just ten days prior to this taxi ride.  

Of course, SA and another eight of its neighbouring countries had faced a travel ban from most Europe and Americas, hardly one-week after that sequencing activity, leading to much uproar over discrimination in how international bans were being imposed.  The argument being that the ban had been rushed, and that SA had just been forthright with scientific truth.  Keeping quiet was the alternative, and that is the alternative that many on the web were now advising SA, in hindsight, to have done, instead of speaking the truth and now being banned (plus its neighbours).

The new Omicron variant was believed to be more transmissible, though its ‘deadliness’ had not yet been determined.  Even as late as today, some three weeks later and its deadliness is not yet determined.  Nonetheless, it seems to be less deadly than other variants or than previously feared.  The corona numbers* now stand at 269,570,565 infections globally from all variants, with 5,315,126 deaths since December 2019.  Kenyan numbers are 255,932 and 5,342 respectively.  On that Saturday, as I sat on that taxi, my Uber app off, my phone also off due to lack of charge, the global numbers were 265,795,997 and 5,268,209 respectively.  

*source: worldometers

Interestingly, the infection rates had gone up on a week-by-week comparison, while the deaths had gone down in the same period in the last one week.  A new highly transmissible variant was therefore ‘in the air’ yet the death rates had gone down.  The general prevalence and case numbers were even higher in the countries imposing the ban.  A punishing ban in the southern part of Africa had come to naught.  What a contradiction!  It did not even take long before the variant was being detected globally anyway, including in places that had no links with SA at all.  The variant was already out and it was its turn to do the rounds – live with it, as we now say in these days of corona.

Back to the taxi, where my phone was about to go off due to lack of charge.  The phone that I attempted to replace hardly a week prior with little success, after the replacement phone developed a starting error forcing me to return it to the vendor, and now be reluctant to migrate from my old phone.  The young runner, Atieno, had already laughed at me even before that one-week-old phone got faulty, telling me that I could do better than an Umidigi, her words, not mine.  I had and have no love to any brand of phone.  I buy according to my money and live with it.  Anyway, with my phone almost off, I paid up the initially indicated fare on the app before I had cancelled, by MPESA.  I did not want to be reach my destination and fail to payup due to a phone that was off.

However, before we had started that corona discussion, and the pro-cons of Kenya shutting down soon, we had discussed this issue of phones going off before paying up for the taxi.  The driver, who had been on ungoverned talk since I stepped into the taxi, had volunteered his wisdom on this.  He had disclosed that some drivers can screenshot a different fare display and show it to the passenger at the end of the trip in cases where the passenger’s phone is gone off.  

It would usually need a keen eye to detect the deception, though by such a time it is likely to be too late, usually after the fact.  However, he then confessed that it was possible to report such cases to Uber for resolution and penalization of the offending driver.  This would usually lead to the reduction of the driver’s ratings and the eventual crediting of the passenger’s account with the difference in charges, ready for use during a next ride.

We discussed the joys and the ‘not-so-joys’ of being the in the taxi business.  It was now almost seven-thirty as we joined Waiyaki way from the Museum hill roundabout.  He has told me that he would be closing business after he dropped me, since it was already night.  This seemed a contradiction the expectations of the current business environment.

“But we no longer have a shutdown?  You can surely work for 24-hours!”

“I just fear the night,” he said casually.

“Must be due to bad people,” I nodded in agreement.

“Not bad people, the good people!”

This got me thinking!  Fear of the good people?  Was I missing something?  He then opened up the story telling session with the top four reasons why he feared the good people and hence would like to avoid them as much as possible.  Do not hold me to account or call me names as I state the list, his list.  I am just reporting what the driver told me.  We were now on Waiyaki way, heading to Uthiru.

Good people number 1 – the drunk girl

He said that these are the types that he picks up from some nightlife joint, already tipsy.  The girl settles on the back seat and stays restless, asking him why he is not getting to his destination quickly.  They get into the list due to what happens at payment time.

“Nipe namba ya MPESA!,” the girl says, slurring with every word.

He gives the number, taking maybe five or ten times just repeating the simple ten-digit number.

They have now arrived at the destination, but the MPESA has not yet reached the driver’s phone, who then complains about it.

“Yani, hujapata!  Hebu nipe namba ya MPESA tena!”

He says that this is the cycle that makes him avoid doing night rides.

Good people number 2 – the drunk girl no. 2

This was a particular girl, but the cab driver still gets the jitters just imagining how he got himself into this situation.  He had responded to another call for taxi and had ended up in a nightclub.  A lady approached his taxi and stood by the rear window, leaning of the boot of the car.  The next sound was that of shattering glass, as the hind window smashed through.  He got out of his seat and went out just in time to see the impression left by a drink bottle that had hit that window.  He still does not know how and why his car was smashed, but it ended well, with the girl agreeing to repay.

Good people number 3 – the guy who sleeps

This is a guy he carries from… guess… from a nightclub yes, already drunk.  He tells the driver to wake him up when they get to the destination.  Many things happen at the destination.  They start by arguing over the destination itself.  The Uber app would be showing the pin confirming that they are at the destination, while the guy on the backseat would be swearing that that was not it.

“Nirudishe penye ulinitoa!,” the drunkard would finally slur out loudly.

They usually, somehow, get the right house.  He had not returned a client in his experience.

At alighting time, the driver stops the app and presents the figure to the guy who is now just awakening from the usually deep slumber, now trying to figure out his current whereabouts.  I will never forget the gesture that the driver made at this point, as he impersonated the drunkard.  We were now just past Kabete Polytechnic, about to get to Uthiru in less than three minutes.

The taxi driver pointed ahead, and continued to say what he was told, his right index finger being wiggled towards the windscreen, “Wewe… we… we… wewe!,” he shook his finger, his tone changed, even as he kept driving with one hand.

“Unataka nikulipe mara mbili eh!  Unafikiria nimelewa!, Eh! We, wewe, we!”

That reenactment was just magical.  It was like the drunkard was in that taxi at that very moment.  I could feel him.  I could feel the driver’s shock at the turn of events.  He did not tell me how he resolved it.  I can only imagine.

Good people number 4 – the guy who does not pay

This one is a story that I have heard before.  I was even ready to tell him the story myself.  This is the guy who is dropped at an apartment block and claims to go to the house to bring back the money for the taxi charges, never to come back.  However, this was a story with a twist.

He had waited for over ten-minutes and the guy did not come back, nor did he have any idea of to which house among the many in the storied complex the guy had disappeared into.  It was in the wee hours, as wee as three in the morning.  He got his courage and alighted from the taxi.  He then approached the sentry’s cubicle at the gate and asked the watchman for help.  The watchie had been one of those who just sleeps the night away, and was now also coming out of slumber.  He had just opened the gate to let the taxi in and had resumed his sleep, not caring whether the taxi was to leave or not.

After jolting the watchie back to consciousness, he started to ask him where the person whose name he knew as James, from the casual conversations, lived.

“Ai, hapa kwa hii plot hatuna mtu anaitwa James!,” the watchie was categorical and now fully sober.

“Ule jamaa nimelete hapa saa hizi!”

“Hata sikuona umelete nani,” the watchie confessed, truthfully.

The taxi man was at a dead end.

“Pole,” I told him, “Such loss of money!”

“Not so fast,” he continued with his story.  We were now at the Uthiru roundabout.

He had proceeded to describe the guy to the watchie.  It happened that the description that he gave were spot on, since it did not take more than two minutes before the watchie had a smile in his face, “Ah, huyo anaitwa baba Angel, anakaa B6!”

He found the guy in B6 collapsed on the sofa set, with the wifey trying to revive him with some early morning bowl of hot soup, which he was not responding to!

We did not get to conclude the pros and cons of closing down the Kenyan economy, again, due to the new Omicron variant of corona.  However, just like the YouTube videos that are a hit due to young people, the country was not going to be closed due to the same young people.  If you guessed that the this is due to some young persons’ street protest or some social media anti-Gov movement by the youth, then you are wrong.  The reason is that corona has not had an effect in the schools and there is no reason to close the schools and mess up the status quo.  Life shall continue as is, as usual.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Dec. 11, 2021

The virtual half – a Nairobi International marathon with a twist

The virtual half – a Nairobi International marathon with a twist

I was on the road again on this Thursday.  I was taking a trainee runner to the routes to figure out a 10km distance and give her the impetus to keep going.  We started the run at exactly four in the evening.  It was hot, but not as hot.  We left Uthiru towards Kabete Poly, then crossed the Waiyaki way and ran the length of the road towards Ndumbo.  We alternated our runs and walks.  

We talked during the walks.  We even discussed how we were lucky to have decided to run on this Thursday instead of the previous day, when it had rained from about four all the way to late night.  As a consequence, the traffic jam around Kangemi had been impossible, leading to one of our runner, Berly, getting stuck in the traffic jam for over two-hours after her visit to collect a running kit.  We were glad that our ‘foresight’ in choosing the right day for the run was working to our advantage now that it was hot, but not very.

At Ndumbo we generally ran the downhill on Kapenguria road all the way to the river, then walked the uphill for about one kilometre to the Lower Kabete Road junction.

“This is harder that I thought,” Sharon commented as she finally reached the T-junction of Lower Kabete Road where we were to do the U-turn and run back on the same course.

“You must touch the tarmac,” I urged her on.

“I am too tired, I may fall over into the road,” she lamented.

“This is the ritual, you just have to do it”

She reluctantly touched the tarmac of the Lower Kabete Road, even as the vehicles from Westlands sides approached and hooted.

We turned back and walked for about five minutes on the slight uphill towards Kenya Animal Genetic Resources Institute, KAGRI.  We passed by it on our right then took a few photos.  I had already reminded the runners in the group that photos were necessary for the report to the sponsors, to make them feel good and… to also get that next sponsorship in 2022.

We then did a short run to the river and afterwards faced that one-point-five kilometre of uphill that ends at Ndumbo.  We would run-walk that hill to the very end.  By that time Sharon was taking rests every five or so minutes to get some life back to them.  Her legs were aching.  I knew the feeling.  I could feel for her.  We were now however not far from our destination.  Just another two kilometres and we would be done with the run.  The sun was still overhead and hot, but not as hot.  We kept going knowing that the end was near….

It was however quite a different situation two days ago, when I did my own virtual marathon on that Tuesday.  I started the run at about 3.15pm and it was a hot afternoon!  I have never run in such a heat.  I was nonetheless lucky that my body was feeling quite well on this day.  I did not have any aches and I was quite ready to give the international run my best.

I was suffering the disadvantage of having little choice on the route to take to get the 21km done.  All the routes that I formulated would have at least half of the run being done uphill.  There was no way out.  I therefore decided to do my run on the best of the worst options that I had at hand.  I still had to do over 10km of hills on this route even though I would get my 21km alright.

I had taken the same route as the one that I was taking Sharon to.  I however did not ritualize the tarmac with that touching action.  I instead turned left and ran the one kilometre stretch along the tarmac and then diverted once more to my left to the Mary Leakey route.  It was then generally uphill through the University farm all the way to rejoin Kanyariri road.  I would then turn right and run straight on for about two kilometres to Kanyariri ACK church junction for another right turn to run all the way to the Wangige road underpass for my U-turn.

It remained hot.  I was tiring much faster due to lack of hydration or supplementation with drinks and fruits.  I was just glad that I had got to this U-turn, since I now just needed to survive a return journey mostly on Kanyariri road to Ndumbo market, then the last two-kilometres to Uthiru.  I was tired, it was hot, and I still had an international marathon to tackle.

The end was finally near when I crossed Waiyaki way and was passing by Kabete Polytechnic.  That was Tuesday.  And I stopped my timer at 1hr 54min 26sec with the Runkeeper app reading 21.22km.  That was a good run time bearing in mind that hilly terrain and no water or glucose being dished out as would have happened if it was a ‘real’ run at the city centre.  The real run that had now been allocated to only few elites who would be at the stadium on Sunday, October 31.

Well, Sharon and I finally also finished our Thursday run which was still to be posted to the Stanchart international marathon website as a 10km virtual run.  We finished our 11.32km in 2hrs 03min and 24sec.  The run was posted to the website thereafter.  The stats would show that Sharon was so far at position 57 in a time of 1.47.18.  The organizers had prorated the timing to fit the 10km expected of the competition.  I even saw that other young runner, Atieno, under by tutelage with runner number 2020 being positioned as number 66 on that list of 10k women.  

My runner number 2031 had debuted at number 8 on the men’s 21km listing when I posted my own results registered as a time of 1.53.39.  I however knew that neither my nor Sharon’s time would be in the top 1000 list when we finally get the elites doing the real run tomorrow, Sunday.

That does not matter.  It is on record that we hit the leaderboards, and no one can dispute that.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Saturday, Oct. 30, 2021

Running in the spirit or is it with a vaccine?

Running in the spirit or is it with a vaccine?

Aki niita...

Mm mm mmm-mm-mm

Aki niita!

Mm mm mmm-mm-mm

Aki niita!

Finally, I just had to burst out loud, “Oh, ntaitika! Nita mm mm mm mmmm….”

I had already cleared three kilometres of run, when my spirit was uplifted yesterday.  I was just circling round the ‘churches circle’, a space almost the size of a football field where many churches, ten or so in my assessment, are all crammed next to each other together with residential houses and all.  All of the structures being covered by iron sheets on all sides.  This circle marks the turnoff from Waiyaki way as you now head towards Kapenguria road, then further to Ndumbo market.  Next to this circle existed a bridge, which has now been demolished as part of the road constructions, but a new replacement bridge seems to be coming up to flyover that road.

It was a Sunday, and the circle did not disappoint.  All manner of church was going on as I made my circling at about one-thirty.  The weather was cloudy and a bit cold.  There was no shred of sunshine from the white cloud blanket overhead.  It is the warmth of the run that was keeping me going.  I would otherwise be shivering in my tee and shorts.  

The drumming was intoxicating, but just for a moment, since it did not take more that five run steps to encounter the next church activity – intense prayers and casting of the evil one…

“Reswa!” I heard the chant from some one voice.

“Reswa!!” I heard a response from the multitude.

It did not take more that five steps to encounter the next church.  The drumming could still be heard.  The casting out was still on in the background.  All these were happening in the circle, to my right, as I kept running.  Finally, that song that got me would manifest itself just as I finished the circle.  However, it was not long before I had completely run past the circle and the church activities were now just a background noise.

I was now going down Kapenguria road and would be at Ndumbo stage in a few steps.  My run was mapped to follow the same proven route that has been my life for most of the year.  I did not take more than fifty steps before reaching the Ndumbo no-stage area, just opposite the gate to the government offices.  The matatus were as usual blocking my sidewalk and the main road.  I would soon be forced to run onto the extreme edge of the road just to pass by the current matatu blocking my way.  Next to its door were two touts.  Each was doing their jig, in response to the loud and ground shaking bass coming from the matatu.

“Halleluya!,” the music commanded.

“God is one…!  Oyeah!,” the touts responded in unison, jig ongoing.

“Halleluya!,” the music commanded once more.

“God is one!  Oh yeah!,” they responded.

“Some call Him..,” the music continued to command, while I did not need to turn back to know that the dance by the two was still ongoing.

I was momentarily gone from the vicinity of the matatus and would have to be facing my world in the solitude of the road as I headed down Kapenguria road.

The rest of the run was generally quiet.  I did not encounter many people or more church activities for some time.  But that would not be for long, since after I had hit the one-hour mark as I emerged at the tank, after Uni farm, to join Kanyariri road, I was once again back to church.  First, I met a group of church goers, evident from their clad, with the guys in white suits, and the ladies in white skirts and blouses.  All were having their white caps.  They were smart and matching along the side of the road.  They were probably going home from church, judging by the time that I met them, just past two-thirty.  They reminded me that they were ‘solders in the army’ by their quick march chants from that group of ten or so.

I momentarily overtook them as I went on towards Kanyariri centre, then took the right turn for the two-kilometre run that would lead me to the Gitaru-Wangige road, where I would do a U-turn.  There would however be one last religious gathering at the small shopping centre just before my turning point.  That gathering was charismatic and forceful.  

I have never seen two people, just aided by a public address system, sing so loudly!  They were engrossed in their song – a shrill soprano from the lady, a mix of baritone and bass from the man.  They were jumping and clapping, each with a mic, with no crowd in the vicinity.  I passed them towards my U-turn.  I passed by them a second time on my way back after the U.  They were still jumping and clapping.  They were still singing.  Their voice was still fully amplified.

I was soon gone as the run took over my legs and I kept me going onwards towards Kanyariri road to then start my run back to Uthiru.  The run back was just great, though I knew from the onset that this run found me on one of the days that I was not on my top form.  I had felt tired from the start of the run, and my stomach had pained me for more than half the run distance.  I was happy to just survive the run and bring it to an end.

Was my feeling low related to that second dose corona vaccine done five days ago?  We had exchanged experiences amongst the group that had volunteered to update the records on the central ministry of health database after the vaccinations.  Having been jabbed on a Tuesday, we had three days to be on those registration tables as we processed the many staff who had turned up for their mostly second, but first fast doses.  We found ourselves, those on the registration tables, talking about our experiences.  I had not felt anything out of the ordinary in my case, apart from that five-minute dry cough attack that I had suffered late night Thursday.  

Others did not report anything adverse either.  At least four of the group of ten confessed to having been hit by a sleeping episode during unexpected times, which they attributed to the vaccine.  One said that he had slept in the staff bus, while on the ride from the workplace to his home in Utawala, where he had to be woken up by the bus crew to alight.  Another confessed to having dropped on the home sofa in the evening after work and slept the night away on the sofa, without realizing what had hit her.

I still believe that my run of yesterday was not affected by that vaccine in any way, even as I posted an average time of 5min 07sec per kilometre over the slightly more than half marathon distance.  This timing was a bit over the less that 5min that I was posting hardly four weeks ago.  However, no two run days are ever the same anyway.  Maybe I should just try the next run and see how it goes, and whether my runs were improving, getting worse and remaining the same.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, July 5, 2021

Birthday runs are not sustainable… just believe me when I say

Birthday runs are not sustainable… just believe me when I say

I have never had a busy Thursday such as what I had yesterday.  I had a meeting that was to have ended at one, but for my intervention to cut it short at 12.30pm.  I was then to send a surprise birthday present to the upcoming runner, WWB junior, who was turning a half-marathon.  My plans were to dash to Ruiru to deliver the package, then be back to the start line by four.  However, the timings did not seem to work as planned.

I was at Ruiru just about three, delivered my present in a hurry, and started my travel back.  Travel on Thika road towards city centre was quite smooth and I was starting to be confident that I would make it back to Uthiru by four.  My confidence would however soon wane when I got to the globe cinema roundabout, where the matatu came to a standstill on top of the flyover.  The road was jampacked.  I could see the fire station just ahead, besides which I would be getting my next matatu, but here I was, stuck in a long queue of vehicles in three lanes on top of the giant roundabout.

“I shall not make it for this run,” I told myself.

The jam would soon ease allowing us to disembark at Latema road, and I would momentarily get my next matatu at about three-thirty.  Maybe I would make it to Uthiru in time for the run after all.  I was once more relaxed as we left the city and headed to Waiyaki way.  Then it happened again.  We were soon in another big traffic jam that ran from Westlands all the way to ABC centre.  Though it eased after ABC, it was already heading to four-thirty.

“I shall not make it for this birthday run,” I told myself once again.

The matatu moved quite fast after Kangemi and I found myself alighting at Uthiru just about four-forty.  The earliest that I could start the run was now probably five or thereabout, and I already had a bad experience last Monday when I had a five o’clock run.  Would I dare a late evening run for a second time in a week?  Would that not be one dare too much!

I did dare the run anyway, starting off at five just as it started to drizzle.  It was just like Monday repeating itself, since on that day I had been rained on, though that rain started off about fifteen minutes into the run.  Today it was drizzling ab initio, from the first second.  I was already set for the run and nothing was stopping this run.  Did I even have a choice?  Today was the birthday day, and a birthday date is always fixed on a particular date, isn’t it?

The drizzle was however gone by the time I was crossing Waiyaki way to start my run towards Ndumboini, hardly fifteen minutes into the run.  It turned out that there was no rain at all for the rest of the run.  It was even a relief that the University farm earth road was even dry, the very road that got me stuck on Monday.

I was on the same route on this Thursday, similar to the run of Monday.  I was running from Uthiru to Lower Kabete road, then diverting to the University farm past Mary Leakey school, then finally joining Kapenguria road at the tank all the way to the U-turn some 3km ahead, then back.  The run was smooth and fairly enjoyable.  Maybe it was just enjoyable because I had no choice on this, and the more I enjoyed it the better I would survive it.

Just as it was no Monday, I would finish the run when it was already dark, just past seven.  I was to commemorate a twenty-one for the young upcoming runner and I did that half-marathon for this occasion, even managing to add an extra three ks for her benefit.

However, the lesson today is about these so-called ‘birthday runs’.  These runs are completely unsustainable.  I was on full struggle yesterday doing that half-marathon, simply because I was helping someone commemorate her twenty-first birthday.  Any run over 10km is already a struggle as it is.  By the time you get to the ‘Teenage runs’, you already need proper planning.  Additionally, these are not your typical everyday run.  Past teenage and you really need to think twice about whether you really want to commemorate a birthday with a run after all.  

Imagine how worse birthday runs get once you try being good to someone past-teenage years?  How about when they hit half-marathon and beyond!  That is not even all, birthday runs go to full-marathons and beyond.  I have already mentioned that any run after 10km is quite something.  A half-marathon is not your everyday run.  A full marathon is a run in just a different territory.  

Doing halfs and fulls and anything in between and even beyond, for purposes of helping people celebrate their birthday, is good motivation… but not is sustainable.  The body can only take so much, and you only have one body.  There is no second chance to replenish the body once you get it overworked.  My marathoners group even sums all birthday years and asks members to run that total number of kilometres, singly or within the month!

Nonetheless, I have good news for all those who commemorate birthdays by doing such ‘birthday runs’.  Do you recall that age is nothing but a number?  Why not run any distance that you want when you are commemorating someone’s birthday?  Just do your comfortable distance and then tell the person, “According to me, you are only ten years old, and I did a 10km run for you.”

Problem solved.

Alternatively, good old cake for a birthday still works – whether you are giving or partaking.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, May 7, 2021