Chapter 9 – Running the marathon 1
Stavanger marathon
I had ‘somehow’ tried my best to prepare for this run, despite the short notice. I only had three weeks and I pumped eight preparatory runs into that duration, including my second run where I got lost in the strange land and ended up doing an ‘accidental’ 21km after running round and round without getting out of the maze, until I had to gather courage, break tradition, and ask for help. We had already been updated that the normal tradition here was not to say nothing. Keep quiet and keep to yourself.
I was forced to forgot to be saying ‘Hi’ to anyone by day 5. Afterall, no one expected the greeting, and no one responded anyway. Being greeted was a bother that they did not anticipate or appreciate. Remember that meme that one of the things that runners do is to say ‘Hi’? They lied. Even marathoners do not say Hello to each other when they meet out there doing their runs. Strange, I tell you but, the Viking tradition is tradition.
During four of my preparatory runs, I did realize that it was much easier to run over here without getting as tired. I could easily clock a 15k, just like that, when intending to do a ‘lunch-hour’ run of 13k in the evening. Maybe it was the sea level altitude? Maybe it was the many forested trails that were quiet, shaded and peaceful for the runs? Maybe it was because nobody dared ‘disturb’ you with a Hello? Maybe it was the geography, just located immediately next to the north pole? I do not know, but the runs felt easier on the legs. The only issue that I had to contend with was being rained on while running.
It rained almost daily, apart from that one-week of heat wave that was affecting Europe, which did not spare this place. Other than that, cold and rain was the order of the day, and night. In fact, I was even glad that I was rained on during my last run before the marathon. It would give me a feel of a rainy marathon. The feeling was not good. The rain was cold and the environment was cold, ending up with a chilly run. At the same time, the cold run gear would tightly caressing your body – forcing the cold further into the skin. However, I was ready for a rainy marathon, if it came to that.
Do not register
When I ‘accidentally’ registered for this marathon a week to the event, I was quite surprised as to how steep it could cost. I had to pay for the marathon entry itself as $69, yes, you are not reading double, you are reading it correctly – 7k for the registration. Then I had to pay an additional 500bob for license fee (no running without this). When I thought that the deal would not get any better, it did get better in the worse way. I was charged 175/= for service fee and 150/= for processing fee. I paid a total of 7,800 bob for that run. Paying in local Kenya shillings also meant that I had to suffer double currency conversion losses from Shillings to Dollars, then Dollars to Kroner, ending up with a total Kenyan bill of 9k! Just for one run!! Robbery!!
There would be one final surprise – I got an email to collect my runner number from the organizer’s town center office, Radisson Blue hotel, just next to where the run would also start. From my residence to town was about 5km, with buses plying the route every ten or so minutes. The footnote of that email was that I should carry some $24.90 for a ‘beautify runner T-shirt’.
I did collect my runner no. 621, branded with my name. The bib also had the Kenya flag printed on the lower left corner of the paper, just below the word ‘maraton’. I did not get a T-shirt. I would run on plan B. Who needed another T-shirt when I already belonged to team NMM2*? I already had a personalized branded luminous yellow T from NMM2. While at time, I just remembered that my expenditure list would now include the cost of this trip, which was setting me back 370/= for fare, with a ticket that was valid for one hour. After that hour one would have to get another ticket of a similar amount. This marathon was expe! But, it just had to happen because my bank card had been depleted dry – and I would better have something to show for it.
*Ni Mungu na Miguu Tu
Which weather?
On Friday before the marathon it had drizzled most day. It was a cold day. A rainy marathon was surely in the offing. My plan to be in bed by nine so as to be fully rested for the next day’s marathon backfired when the sun ‘refused’ to set down. How was I supposed to sleep when the sun was still shining? It was already 10pm and the night was still daytime with sun!. I could see everything in this daylight at ten-P. How could I sleep in this light? I had even formed a habit of taking dinner at mid-night, since it is around then that there would be some semblance of darkness. My sleeps were therefore mostly in the AM hours. The one before the marathon was no different.
I had hardly slept, hardly dreamt, hardly turned, when the alarm on the phone woke me up at seven. It was already Saturday, August 31, 2019 – the day of the Stavanger International Marathon in Norway. I got out of bed, in my small two by four room that I was paying two arms and two legs for. I gazed out of the window and it was drizzling.
“This is just great!,” I said in frustration.
I did not want to carry change of clothes. I just wanted to go to town ready for the run – no changing, no changing room, no left luggage and no luggage to claim after the run. If it did rain then I would have to be clad in a jacket and trousers for the trip to town, and then the inevitable left luggage to deposit, and later claim – what a bother!
A cup of ‘tea’ made from ‘Sjokoladepulver’ kicked my day. I had started picking a few words in Norsk. It was the only way to survive. That ‘chocolate powder’ was one of the words in the list so far. It was still chilly when I left the hostel block to the bus stage just four hundred meters away. I bought a ticket from a dispensing machine for 370/= that lasts an hour and waited for a bus to town. The distance was short, in just ten minutes you would be in town. I still believe it is just a 5k distance, a distance that I shall shame by walking through one of these days soon. That would mean that the ticket was overpriced for the hour, that was my take.
By 8.35am I was at the pre-historic ‘Stavanger dormkirke’, OK, old cathedral, where the 9.00am full marathon run was to start in less than 30 minutes time. The half marathon would begin 40 minutes later, while the 5k was a 1330hrs event. There was an under-10 years kids run on the card, scheduled for quarter to three. When I encountered the slowly trickling crowd of runners, I started realizing the magnitude of my current predicament.
The details of the runners had already been published online as at the previous night.
“Africa?,” I said to myself, “How can you put all this on me?”
I was the only runner from south of the Mediterranean! That was a burden too heavy to carry. I even thought of dropping out! The online list of 262 full marathon runners had only me and another one from ET. I scanned around and for sure there was no one from ET. I was all alone to battle it out with the Norwegians for the pride of the ‘south of Med’. Bring it on!
Off we go!
The run started promptly at nine. There were many preamble announcements in Norsk, which I did not get. The countdown in any language is however unmistakable. The once cold morning had metamorphosed into a warm morning. The only disadvantage that I faced was lack of intelligence on the route profile, route map and route condition. I started by just following the front runners. We started by running through city streets, but mostly on the dedicated sidewalks, usually used by pedestrians on the normal course of life.
I observed that the run did not seem to interrupt motor vehicle traffic much, if at all. Life continued, and the run continued. Hardly five minutes into the run and I would momentarily be stuck with this group that had one of them with an over-hanging flag affixed to his back reading, “3:30 – 5.00 min per km”. The information on the website had promised pacesetters for 3hr 30min, 4.00hr and 4hr 30min. I was glad to have seen this promise fulfilled, at least for the 3.30hr. I soon overtook that group and just kept going – gazing in front for the direction the front runners were taking and following suite.
The run was easy going. While we were mostly on the pedestrian walkways, the run was also mostly done on trails in forested areas and majorly around two lakes and the beachfront. The view was spectacular. The run was smooth. The fear of getting lost kept speeding me up to at least have someone ahead whom I could follow along, at any given time. They promised water, and they delivered water. That was on the 5k mark. In small paper tumblers, they handed the water or allowed runners to pick. However, this meant having to stop, sip, take, hand back the tumbler and then resume the run. It was a strange one. I am used to water in bottles (of cause Kili marathon also had this tumbler business, the only one in my many years of running).
They promised energy drink, and they delivered energy drinks from the 10k interval and for every other subsequent station, generally on 5k intervals. All the way to the finish we had now both water and energy drinks. The energy drink was quite little – just a sip, but you could get a second helping. The run continued.
I was glad that my worries about being hydrated were now put to rest. I had not carried any water to the marathon, and if there was none on offer, then I would have been roasted. I had my three timing gadgets operating. At some point I do remember one gadget announcing, “Thirteen kilometers in one-hour, average pace four minutes thirty-six seconds per kilometer,” as clearly as the nighttime sunshine. I was aiming for a 3hr 30min, but with that pace… I would end up with a 3.15! That was not meant to be. I did not want to overdo anything. I just wanted to try a run in the new lands!
The run starts, again
And then the marathon started. Let me provide you a marathon secret, the marathon starts after 21km. That is when it starts. Repeat, again, the marathon starts on the 21km mark. That is the point that you should aim for when doing the marathon. I saw the 21km red marker on a small paper like material, hardly the size of a foolscap, affixed to the ground on the left of my running path. We were just about through running around the two lakes when this marker appeared. I had to forget that I had been running and now start the ‘real’ run to the finish line. If it were possible, I should have reset my timers, to start a clean timing for 21k. However, this was not possible. Anyway, keep this part of resetting timers for later.
They promised squeezy gel on the 23k mark, they delivered ‘squeezy energy gel’ on that mark, alongside water and energy drinks.
“These people have memory,” I told myself, since I really doubted that this gel thing would be a reality.
I was still struggling to break the seal on the 33g gel tube when my attention was drawn by these chants of, “Heia! Heia! Heia!”
I looked to my left to see the group of kids, hardly teens, brandishing Norwegian flags and clapping along, excitedly. There are runners before and after me. I noted that their “Heia!” intensified with the approach of each runner. I would observe many more “Heia”s on the route. I liked it.
Talking of memory, I had one myself. I remembered this 23k mark as exactly as I was now seeing it. This was surely the fourth time that I had been to this spot! When I ‘got lost’ during one of those preparatory runs, when I finally had to ask someone to show me the way. I had ended up on this junction. I had turned back, then later ran back to this same junction twice. Each time I got to this junction I would be sure that I was lost, forcing me to turn back. I finally had to ask directions from a stranger, since I was completely lost during that run. What a pleasant surprise to see this junction again!
Really?
This would not happen, I had told myself. It is a “no way”. But believe it or not, it surely happened. They promised chocolates, and they delivered dark chocolate at the 27km mark, alongside energy drinks and water – energy drinks on the first table as usual. I picked two small cubes of chocolate. Tiredness was already creeping in, since it took me about 5km to partake my chocos that I had taken – with lots of effort, both to push a piece to the mouth and then to get a munch going.
Soon I hit that beach that I knew so well – the Atlantic Ocean. The very waters that I had just touched the last weekend during that walk with two other colleagues. Those waters were as cold as ice. Then! And then there they were, on my right, the “Sverd i fjell”. The three ten-meter metallic swords that have been fixed to the group. This same ‘sword in rock’ scene which had already been the background in many of our photos just last Sunday. Now it was a run-through section as we faced the one kilometer run along the ocean front. From where I was at this point on the run, I could easily just cross the highway on my left and head back to my hostel some three kilometers away. However, that was not happening since I had now already hit 30km and nothing, repeat, nothing was stopping me, with only 12km remaining.
I did not have much time to strategize since… they promised bananas, and they delivered ripe bananas. The 31km marker had about three small tables, the first one with energy drinks in small tumblers, the second with water in equally small paper tumblers, and a third with bananas, cut to pieces. I had to stop for a mouthful of energy, then started off, banana piece in hand.
Before long we hit the 32k mark. I had a second memory attributed to the different times that I got lost during my preparatory runs. I had seen this very ‘32km’ written on the tarmac in red, with an arrow mark pointed towards me on that occasion. I had to make a judgment call on that day. I thought that directional arrow had something to do with prohibition, with only one-way traffic allowed. I therefore had decided just to turn back, lest I break some law. Little did I know that it was the marathon organizers playing a trick on me. That marking was for the full marathon route, not a one-way street restriction]! Cheats!!
The last 10km were already etched on my memory as per the map. We would generally run along the oceanfront all the way back to ‘dormkirche’.
And… finally, they promised coke, and they delivered coke. This was on the 39km mark, where we now had water, energy drink, coke and bananas. At 39k the run is technically done. You only have 3km and the run if finished. But, but wait a minute, we would soon hit 40k, just like that and we now had the end in sight. We were to just make a right turn somewhere in town, hit that tarmac and get to where the music was coming from. That music, that was getting louder with each step was coming from the festivities at the finish line.
And here now comes the second trick of running the full marathon – the run is easily lost on the 40k. The secret is out! By this time you are tired and your mind is hardly working. Your legs are just going on free run. The mind can give them a wrong signal at any time, including ‘stop’. That makes these last 2km the most crucial for a recreation runner. Master them, control them, have dominion over those two, and you shall finish the run.
Life begins at…
When you hit 40, not age, when you hit the 40k mark, the end is surely in sight. Every step you take makes you more tired. The mind miscalculates everything, and gives it an exaggeration of x10. After you have run only 100m, you feel like you have cleared a kilometer. You have just run 200m and you believe that you should be finishing the run. The truth is that you have not even hit 41, not age, the 41k mark. Master your mind on these last two kilometres if you want to finish the run. This is how you do it – know that you still have quite a distance to the finish line. Do not be in a hurry to be at the finish line. Aim for the finish line but just know that it shall come ‘when the time is right’. And that time is likely to be ten to fifteen minutes away. It is usually that far.
I just found myself at the finish line, since I knew that I would be there ‘when the time is right’ and the time was right at 3hr 14min 56sec as per the wrist gadget that never lets me down, thought it let me down ‘kidogo’ on the distance indicating that it was a 43.24km – which was still a very good account for an analogue gadget.
My other two gadgets ‘refused’ to be stopped after the finish line. I took almost a minute trying to unlock the screens to get to the apps, so that I could stop them. When I did, the Runkeeper read 3.15.35 for 42.21km. How accurate can these digital things get!! This was super precise, especially on the distance. Believe it or not, upon unlocking the screen of the second phone, the Endomondo was having that dreaded error message, “Unfortunately this app has stopped working, do you want to reset”! Just imagine if that was my only gadget timing my run of the day!!
The run was done. Stavanger International Marathon 2019 had been conquered. Just like it had started, it came to an end. There was no much pomp or fanfare at the finish line. Runners were just finishing at their own pace and proceeding to leave the venue. I was given my medal and then started hanging around the finish line area, waiting for the 30-minutes of pain. It was then that I stumbled upon James, the chair of UiS students union, whom I had gotten acquainted with previously. His story was quite interesting. He had come in late and then got lost on the running routes! He found himself towards the finishing line of a 42k run hardly 30-minutes after starting, “It was crazy, nakuambia,” he narrated, “So my marathon just ended like that.”
Extra run
The worst minutes for the runner are those 30-minutes after you hit the finish line. While on the run you were surviving on adrenalin, and forced motion, especially the last two kilometers. Now you are not running and there is no adrenalin, it is just pain on your joints and your mind coming back to full alertness. Now it reminds you that you are not OK, that your legs are aching, that your shoe are pinching somewhere, that you are tired. Many things are now happening to your body in real time. However, they promised a pasta at the finish line…. and I was surprised to be handed a small plastic container with something white inside.
I did not know how I survived those 30-minutes post run – that time when you are just moving around aimlessly. Every muscle aches. You are limping, you usually limp, you must limp, due to some leg ache, muscle pain or shoe strain. However, I was back to normal by the time a got another hour ticket and got a bus back home. The red lanyard with white-blue-white strips holding the finishers medal was hanging around my neck. The medal had the inscription, “Stavanger Marathon – NM 2019 – 42195 meter.” That was soooo precise! They need to change their slogan to ‘every meter counts’! The reverse side of the circular metal had the wordings – “Alexander Kielland”, which had to send me back to the history books to read of the marvels of this Norsk writer.
Even as I write this story in the plain daylight of eight in the night, sorry in the daylight, I realized that ‘somehow’ I was not as tired as I would usually feel after such a run back home, despite running the second-best time ever on that distance. My PB still stands at 03.07.51 in Nairobi, 2009. At this rate, that record may not last long.
It took another three days to get the final results of the marathon, when they were published on the organizer's website.
Helmaraton aka 42k full marathon:
Menn: 2.34.53 (ETH), 2.36.10 (NOR) and 2.38.39 (NOR)
Kvinner: 2.51.06 (NOR), 2.53.02 (NOR) and 3.05.56 (NOR)
I was position 20 overall with a time of 3.14.46 (+0.39.54 after the winner. My speed was 4m37s per km) and position 15 on the men's event.
223 runners finished the full marathon.
Helvmaraton aka 21k half marathon:
Menn: 1.09.36 (NOR), 1.10.49 (NOR) and 1.13.19 (NOR)
Kvinner:1.24.14 (NOR), 1.24.56 (DEN) and 1.31.10 (NOR)
732 participants finished this run
The aftermath
While I was to be officially on a 24-hour rest, as per the message that I WhatsApped to my Kenyan crew, to allay their concerns should they not see me, this was not to be. When I got back to UiS around one, I started by doing the laundry. A walk to the laundry room downstairs was painful with every step that I took, especially the going-down the stairs part. I was walking with a limp, hardly three hours after the run. That right leg, right foot, was coming back to haunt. I could feel the pain on the sole. Every step would infuse a bolt of pain up the foot. Stepping down the stairs would bring up a jolt of double-pain. I struggled to the laundry room, bag of clothes at hand.
There are usually four washing machines and four driers. One washer uses liquid soap, and I have noted on the three previous occasions that I have used this laundry, that this particular machine is never in use. Maybe the housemates have no liquid soap for some reason? The remaining machines had a combined system that accepted power or liquid soap. These were somehow always in some at any given time. This Saturday was no different. If anything, all the four were in operation when I got into that small hot room. No machine was available for use.
No one else was in, just the whizzing and occasional high speed motor noise from the machines, which would usually shake the dryer machine on top of the particular washer. It was scary at times. You could imagine the worst… like the rotating thing jumping out of control. Then some lady opened the door and got in. I was just looking at the machines wondering my next move. I could wait, for an unknown duration, for the users to come over and empty the machines. Or take the anticipated painful walk through the staircase to the upstairs room and check on the status of machines later on. The lady said a casual, surprised “Hi” and proceeded to examine two of the washers. She seemed undecided as to whether to empty them or restart them. The machines were by now quiet, meaning that they had finished their preset wash cycles. She made up her mind and emptied the content from the down machines to upper driers. She was gone in less than five minutes, after setting the driers to action.
I was relieved to at least be able to load the two machines free machines, after undertaking laundry colour and type separation. I then set them for forty-minutes wash time and left. I could have set them lower if there was some setting in the 30s or so, but there was none. I took the painful walking steps upstairs and proceeded to take a bath. I could do nothing else but just monitor and wait for the laundry. That planned 24-hour of rest was not coming up any time soon.
I would go and check the laundry after 45-minutes of timing to find the run cycle complete. I would then transfer the clothes onto two driers with same laundry separation. The drying process would once again set me back another one hour – the lowest timing that I could again find. I would have preferred something lower than that in the forty-something minutes range, but that was not possible. I once more took those painful walks upstairs to wait for another hour. It was now heading to five. I was yet to start on any serious rest after the full marathon run of earlier in the day.
After finally getting my dried laundry and closing this chapter, it was evening, time to catch up on mail, write some reports and update the blog story on the marathon. It was not until around eleven when I would leave the rice to cook on its own, that is because I have progressively noted that the kitchen is fully occupied from eight to ten or ten-thirty thereabout. Why it was taking folks such a long time to cook just a simple dinner was still not understandable. So, it was just past eleven that my rice would be ready as dinner. It was over twelve hours, at about mid-night, that I would be now ready for my intended 24-hours of rest.
I was surprised as to how comfortable my night sleep turned out to be! I would usually toss and turn and get all manner of aches and pains all over my body after the marathon. This time… nothing like that! Just that background pain on my right foot and right foot big toe, and that was all. The rest of the body was as good as new. Nonetheless, I still felt tired and my waking up time of eleven on Sunday would confirm that. By that time it was raining. We had already prearranged a Sunday walk to the beach around three, but this now seemed to be in limbo if this weather persisted.
The weather changed for the better around four and the Kenyan quadruple would leave UiS at five for the fifteen-minutes walk to the waterfront, where the about 1km Madlavegen road runs. We took the two colleagues who had not yet seen Sverd i fjell to Sverd i fjell. By that time the weather present intermittent drizzles. We managed to just keep walking around despite the weather. This type of weather was now our life. The sudden weather changes was the norm.
Permit to run
On Monday morning, two days after the marathon, our (s)quad left for town and went to see Polisi, sorry, Politi at the Politistatjon. Our mission was to get our residents permit to now allow us to be officially recognized as persona-granta, for the three-month duration of the research stay. This was a small ATM-size photo card, with name, residential district, validity date of Nov. 27 and Type as ‘Midlertidig oppholdstillatelse’. For those on the know, that means ‘temporary residence permit’. I did not even notice that there were writings on the reverse of the card, until my careful examination of the card later on while settled in my room after the visit to town. The back of card just indicated that I was ‘Student / UiS’.
I had now resorted to getting the non-student ticket on Kolumbus bus for NOK37 after the many ‘bad’ stories that we heard about the consequences of being caught with the wrong bus ticket. We were told that the ‘random’ checks, that I was yet to encounter, but I do not use the bus much anyway; these random checks can result to a fine of upto 6k Kenya money – just for purporting to be a student. In our case we were in a tricky situation. We were students by virtue of attending classes and reporting to supervisors, but were classified by ‘employees’ by virtue of being allowed to pay our own accommodation and upkeep. The real betrayer of who we actually were would turn out to be the ‘student’ ID, which read ‘employee’ ID.
Our passports of cause would betray our over-24 age limit for students. So, if the only evidence that we could show when confronted was a student card, written ‘employee’, and a password indicating that we were ‘over-24’, then how on earth were we to prove that we were students? Is it by explaining to the inspector through a long narration that we usually attend lectures? I was done anticipating a long narration. I would spend double and be on the safe side with no worries, which was still better than the risk of being fined twenty-times the cost. Using a bus ticket after its one-hour expiry was also punishable by being forced to buy a valid ticket in the bus, which can only be done with liquid money with a NOK20 extra payment for troubling the driver. These two misdemeanors are now off my radar while I am a ‘resident’. I shall plan my travels carefully, limiting my town visits to within the hour or walk it out – after all, what is better than a walk?
I had studied the whole ticket thing on Kolumbus bus system and realized that it had its ups and downs. A single ticket is expensive for the 1-hour duration. The Stavanger state is divided into seven zones, and the one-hour ticket is only valid for one zone. You have to get another ticket for another zone should you traverse or alternatively, get a multi-zone ticket if you usually traverse zones in the course of operations. We were lucky that our zone, Nord-Jaeren, had the campus, the town centre and the airport. It was therefore possible to undertake almost all our operations within the zone.
A 1-day ticket costs NOK.90, while a 7-day ticket costs Kr.280. It sets you back Kr.720 for a one-month ticket. You could as well get a one-year ticket for a paltry NOK.7200, which is just equivalent to ten months regular monthly ticket, hence quite a saving. Student tickets, upon identification with a student ID, costs half the regular on all options. Seniors, over 60-years also get the half-price entitlement. Just for information, the single-bus ticket aka 1-hour ticket costs Kr.67 and NOK.97 for 2 zones and 3-5 zones respectively. A 1-day adult ticket would cost NOK.140 for 2 zones and Kr.190 for 3-5 zones, while the 7-day ticket costs $42, and $56 respectively for the multi-zonal versions. I saw the ‘sweetness’ of the 30-day ticket as the ability for 2-adults and 3-children to travel together on the same tickets on weekends or after 5pm on weekdays. I cannot fail to mention free travel for children under six and companions for the visually handicapped.
My Tuesday was spent fully indoors. I did not even move beyond the washroom location, which is nine-doors down the narrow corridor. I was already missing my runs. I wanted a rest but three days of rest was now too much. My legs were aching for the run instead of from the run. I would have to do a run by Wednesday come what weather! It was this issue of my very ‘quick recovery’ after a long run that got me thinking about attending another marathon anywhere soon. I would run and I would recovery, as quickly as I did after Stavanger.
And… and the radar would soon be focused on the Amsterdam marathon of October 20, 2019. From preliminary findings, this marathon does not come cheap. About 100 Euros to register, 150 Euros to travel and 100 Euros for a 3-night stay in a rented bed space with a host family. But I was now here, just across the sea from Netherlands. Surely, this was the cheapest option that I could ever hope for if I was to participate in this marathon. I had a conviction that I would be visiting my southern neighbor across the Atlantic in October. I did not know how I would do it, but Amsterdam marathon was going to happen one way or another.
I had also started to note that it was becoming darker at a much earlier time. It was a bit dark by 9.00pm, which was about one hour earlier than it used to be hardly one month ago, when it started getting dark at 10.00pm. Now it is totally dark by ten. At this rate, of one-hour change for every one-month time, then we could have darkness get to the 7pm mark by November – let us wait and see.
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