"How about another one for the start of 2020"

“Yo Evans, where are you guys?” said a voice on Evan’s phone. “You passed us at the roundabout, just turn around and come back, we are coming for you.” With that we continued conversing as we kept an eye of Ferrari, not long after, we spotted him. “Guys I did not see the roundabout,” grasped the tired sprinter.” But of course, you were busy on drafting manenos,” I added. “Let’s try making it to YMCA for a good swim by 4pm shall we,” Evans commented. I was still skeptical that we won’t make in due time to enjoy at least a hour of swimming and I made it be known. Nice work Sam, for that irritated the duo as this was the agreed plan: We ride, we swim, we eat, day done and well spent. Hillary was now burned out, the climbs were taking a toll on his off-the-bike physical form. Having not ridden the whole of December, his body just had to slow down. The beauty of being a cyclist is that your body learns to recover, so did his with a couple more stops, he was ready to push on. We went to explore a road Evans and I vowed to touch on the last time we toured Runda. Adjacent to the Bypass, it had a long but forgiving climb that branched left to a guarded gate. The drop afterwards was heavenly, beneath marshes of light green scenery, I glided on aero as the other two free handed all the way while shouting at me from the back to enjoy no hands. Too late, I was near the T-junction when a white Prado zoomed near me from under the bypass. A quite drop along Mimosa Road and out of the affluent neighborhood, we zoomed to McFry’s near UN Gigiri for something to bite on.

Contemplating on what is good for our muscles before we head on, I suggested no to chips or sodas but yes on fruits and juices, and some biscuits for blood sugar. Juicy soft tangerines and apples, but I refused the apples because of what Eve did to Adam (Skeptic). Nicely refilled, our ride continued. It felt like a Sunday considering half of the county was absent, less traffic and more riding space. Finally at 4:16pm, we arrived in lycra style. Parked and locked our expensive babies, we casually made our way to the changing room. I must say that as much as I am good with ignoring stares there was a lot of staring eyes looking at the Terrific Three as we walked to the changing room. I could feel it, we were superstars, perhaps they thought we would be swimming with our helmets. It was now time to face the deep end.”Where’s Hillary?” “He’s the baby pull.” “WHAT!!” I replied mouth agape as I scanned the shallow end and found Ferrari already diaphragm deep. Military Merc already jumped in but I am feeling a bit tensed. I was a very good swimmer as a child and teenager until 2007, the last year I was an Aqua Man. 13 years on dry land, can I still remember how to dive and throttle in the beginning of a crawl? All these answers laid deep in 8 feet of chlorine water. Swimmers were criss-crossing along the pool’s length, halting my chance to dive, particularly this dynamic duo of a foreigner and a local guy perfecting the Butterfly with exact precision. Beautiful. The deep end is clear, will Sam summon the dolphin dormant in him or will he slide and fall in deep like a cartoon and hit the floor with his cranium. For the first time, fear gripped me, like Bruce Wayne about to make that euphoric jump in Bane’s pit prison. I blew the fear out, looked up and ran.

I was air bone, arms arcing in butterfly form to meet up front in sword formation, lower back arced back and legs slammed together. I crossed the air-water border, the view was light blue and very blurry, not the view I used to remember. Like an arrow I coasted in the deep, during the dolphin flips as I reached the other side. Head over water, I can’t believe I still go it. Let the water fun begin. Hillary is not a swimmer so we showed him a few tricks, do’s and don’ts. I went a few more width laps, raced and beat Evans by a second and did two underwater widths before the life guard signaled out the end of today’s swim. I felt my heart sink, but I decided to challenge myself to a 25 meter crawl. Others pulled out of the pool, giving me a clear crawl path. Body in and crouched, feet turbo thrusting me forward and my limbs worked in rhythmic perfection. The shallow end disappeared quick, I tilted my head rightwards for air, dipped back it to continue the crawl, a couple more and I reached the other end.”Wow, nicely done sir,” said the foreigner.”Thanks, its my first in four, nope six years.” “Six years and still good, you are a great swimmer.” “Thank you.” I replied as I pulled myself out of the water. Still then I did not remember the exact during of my absence out of the water. Well, it was 30 minutes of aerobic fun.

As the Terrific Three dried on the bend by the fence above the small garden, I noticed three young Somali women taking selfies. I looked away fast, I did not want to see them do the pathetic famed ‘Duck Face’. Evans and Hillary went out ahead of me as I followed a minute later. Their gestures on seeing me suggested that I had just spoilt a plan.”Okay, what did I do wrong?” Turns out that they were confronted by the three young Somali women from earlier on and I was their excuse to get them to stay as they said they were going to get me. I laughed at the two and apologized for messing their seductive plans. We set out for late lunch, I wondered why I was satisfied with 3 chapatis while the rest ate to their fill, even some months ago Soyanka Sane asked me the same thing after a 60km high pace recce ride on Kyuna Road. What can I say,"I AM GROOT!". The sun was getting really low as we escorted Hillary to Haile Selassie roundabout where we met three more cyclists on speedy fun. A bit of bonding before we released them all as Merc and I rode up to St. Paul's church, we had one last conversation for 30 minutes before we parted ways.

It’s 6:55pm and Miss Madilu begins Her up-the-highway assault.

(End of Part 2)

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