We are at the 12th kilometre barely halfway our run. I’ve publicly declared to run 37kms (excluding my 3kms warm up). 1 May. Labour day. 6.43a.m Labouring our feet through the quiet streets and trails of the leafy suburb. Fresh air, social distance, blue masks.
Our two team mate champs approach us “Rachael, tunarudi kuna maji mingi hapo kwa barabara hatuwezi vuka” (Rachael, we are turning back there’s so much water on the road we cant cross). His voice deeper than usual, blame it on the mask over his mouth. His concern for his fellow runners always, an admiration, including greeting me from a 3m social distance this morning. Yes , I get it team mate. W.H.O directives.
Oblivious, of the warning we continue trumping the path with Korir, my pacer, and Mina, my running sister. Both possibly wondering why we didn’t turn back. I ask Mina, whether we turn back, to which she says, she doubts we shall manage if the two gentlemen failed to cross the flooded road. Am curious, and why not, seeing is believing. Right? Doubting Thomas. We go on and I don’t see the pool of water. I shout back to Mina, “Take that back” I feel her smile and my triumph is loaded. She knows what I mean, if the two guys didnt make it, it doesnt mean
we couldnt too. The two gentlemen are real champs but how could they turn back because of these small pools of water, that we were easily jumping over. I wonder aloud. Korir laughs. He wonders too. Mmmmh, maybe preserving their new Neon Nike wheels for post COVID races. We take a right turn and in our full view is a flooded road. Oops, I spoke too soon. I take a sip of water, swallow my pride. Mina is behind following swiftly and she is sweet not to tell me. I told you so. For a second, I think she was better not listening to me. Am trying to assess the moment quickly, be present in it and do what needs to be done now. We stop, and ahead a white pick up is muddling through the flooded road towards us. I watch closely and the wheels are halfway the muddy water. I look at my watch, pace is good, and am not turning back, I will go over the water, If it means turning this to a run -swim duathlon so be it. Then a most interesting thing happens, the pick up driver slows, we make eye contact he doesnt pull down his windows, his mask on. COVID measures . We pause our Garmin watches. I want to make conversation and with sign language ask him how deep the pool is ( ofcause I had seen). Mina, suggests we request him to cross us over the flooded road. We are all smiles, our pink manicured nails pointing at the flood and pleading. Korir hides behind the pick up guessing the man is more impressed by the orange clad lasses before him on a dull friday morning. And right there the middle aged driver points us to the back of his pick up. We climb up, each her corner, korir hanging over, he reverses and takes us to the other side of the road to continue our run. Impressed at such Human kindness, We wave a thank you gesture. Korir reminds us to switch back our running watches. Hearts rate rise. 500metres latter another pool of water this time no pick up but a flashy BMW that unintentionally (I hope)
