Please Don’t Break The Culture; A St. Peter’s Girls’ Boarding School -Elburgon Thing’


From Left: Mary Muchiri, The Late Cozy Ann (RIP) holding my brother Alpha, Joanne Koi, Liz Njeri, Doris Omao, My Sister Kerubo & Martha Chirah.

No. I didn’t start this blog because I had a passion for writing. If there’s anything I value the most though; my books, my exercise books, note books, diaries, just anything I’ve scribbled on. I was one of the best composition writers in my class in primary school. By best I mean we’d score a 30 plus mark out of a possible 40 with the coolest handwritings. I still hold on to my amazing yet funny and some weird stories I wrote for Mrs Karanja to read. She was a very tough English teacher.

Writing for me was a hobby. I’d write anything that came to mind on any piece of paper around. Sometimes I try to declutter my own little home but I’m still attached to all my books because most of them have a story related to how I was feeling on particular days. I’m sure most of us have at least one or two books they can’t easily let go. So writing was my thing! Then came reading, this special culture started in the same school; St. Peter’s Girls’ Boarding. Same English teacher, I don’t remember the number of pacesetters we were required to read in a term but we always ended up reading more & more. We would read at the right and wrong times, wrong places. Before any lesson began, you’d notice how silent the girls would be, only to find them catching up on a pacesetter. Flipping pages inside the desk with the other hand holding the wooden desk cover and the lesson books ready to act when the teacher walked in.

First let me tell you about St. Peter’s. Our precious boarding school that we thought had the worst meals ever before we met Naivasha and Michinda Boys. So Sainty is on a little hill right after Elburgon town, opposite Timslaes Factory. Madam Lucy welcomed us on the first day of school, she was warm, cheerful, all smiles and very humble; day 1. She peacefully hummed catholic hymns as she checked if our parents had managed to buy every little thing required for the boarding life. I will never forget how I waved back at my Mum and Dad with a big smile on my face and a huge ‘waru faga’ in my throat, I cried the entire night. My cousin was the head girl but it didn’t really make my life better on day 1. How I threw up the next morning after taking loose porridge with huge chunks of unga is a story I can’t wait to tell my children. I was only ten years old, my parents were against the idea of boarding school but I insisted because nobody told me the horror stories. Nothing to be scared about but at least someone should have mentioned boiled sukuma wiki and weevils in githeri. I seriously thought I wasn’t going to make it through term 1 but alas by mid-term I was complaining of how my porridge mug should be filled to the brim. I hear it got better! It’s still one of the best boarding schools in Rift Valley.

It’s almost 1am and I’m not even sleepy. Been trying to read Gabrielle Union’s “We’re going to need more wine” but it’s draining my concentration. I really think it’s overrated but I’ll do a review once I’m done. It got me thinking of how people get the desire to write or acquire the passion for writing. I realized writing has become a thing in my country, blogging and then recently vlogging. We all know writing is not for the faint-hearted, creating content, putting it together and publishing it on a public forum is WORK. A whole load.

Here’s what I believe;

Everybody can write but very few people tell good stories.

Good writing requires a lot of reading.

Work on the grammar every chance you get.

Always remember to proof read before publishing.

Find a fellow writer and let them counter check your writing before hitting the publish button (I have zero patience, most of the time I don’t)

Nothing as amazing as building a reading culture with your children. It goes a very long way. Let them enjoy the Sweet Valley’s, the Harry Potter’s, the Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew’s….now you remember them! They still exist in book stores! Get your child a book. Thank me later.

That was the best thing St. Peter’s Girls’ Boarding Elburgon offered us. Most of us still read and write, I know you’re reading this post. By the way girls, where is Mrs. Karanja? Somebody pass my love to her.

What are you currently reading?


Guilty Pleasures

I have a maximum of 20 minutes to quickly put up this post. My friend is picking me up in an hour and I haven’t even thought of what to wear to these posh social gatherings. I’m riding on her date since whomever she is going to see would like to discuss farming and I’m so interested in starting a project by mid year on that little land my Dad offered.

Anyway, I will be very brief today. Day 2 of 30 and I’m still super excited about this blogging challenge. What excites me the most is having my best friends for accountability partners. So yesterday I was the 2nd person to share my first post on our  forum and also with my 2 other very close friends whom I introduced the challenge to and were as excited as the rest of us.

I’m aware that most of my loyal readers were expecting part 2 of yesterday’s post; it will be up on day 10. Stay tuned. Ever since I started this blog, I haven’t been able to do posts like I thought I would. I always imagined writing would mean putting words together and hitting the ‘Publish’ button and there your post is up and public. Growing up in this space, I came to realize that a story is not just told but also well told. Coming up with reasonable and intriguing content is quite a task. I follow quite a number of bloggers. To be very honest, sometimes I read their stories and wonder how long it takes them to put up such long posts. Not just long but amazing stories. I should probably have a sit down with Bikozulu or Ian Arunga and get a few insights.

So Day 2; Guilty Pleasures


Do I even know where to begin? To my understanding, these are things that we enjoy despite feeling like they are not generally acceptable or are embarrasing. Could be a fetish or a secret you wouldn’t want to ever spill. What we really enjoy while at the back of our minds we already know they are really stupid or ununderstandable.

My guilty pleasures; Low key I enjoy watching Nigerian movies and soap operas. Nothing as exciting as catching a Nigerian movie when it has just started especially after lunch. I know most of you will judge me but there goes my first.

Walking naked in my house. Cleaning, dancing on the mirror, peeing, pooping with the bathroom door wide open because why not and I can watch my TV very well from that angle. Lol.

Social Drinking. You have no idea how much I enjoy this. Guys I don’t drink alcohol alone, I can’t. Most of my close friends think I drink as much as I do when I’m with them but honestly I enjoy booze with people. Makes me feel good though. I don’t know. I enjoy it but then I feel like there are some people I’m deceiving. Please invite me for more drink ups.

The other thing I really enjoy hmmm; it’s more of a fetish. Pretending not to know when I do. Such a guilty pleasure! I have this tendency of getting deep into issues and unmasking stories but I don’t tell. I don’t even find it in my heart to confront the involved parties. I don’t know about you but no satisfying feeling like when a person is lying to me while I already know the truth. Guys I have a very close acquaintance who lies to me every single day and I know it and it makes me so happy! She will probably remain close to me for as long as the lies remain constant. I think the truth would push me away but oh wait…I HATE LIES!!!

Anyway, I have to go! I think I’ll be in my favorite LBD and fuchsia sandal heels tonight.

See you tomorrow. I’m sure I haven’t exhausted my guilty pleasures.

Have a splendid weekend.

I know why the experienced ones preach


She had never spoken to me like that before. Her words would replay in my mind for weeks and months to come. I was terrified by the way she raised her voice as if the next thing would be the huge flat palm of her hand landing on my cheeks.

Our relationship had grown into something else. I had loved her from the first time I set my eyes on her. At the very young age of 10 and my Mum couldn’t help but give me the ‘respect your elders look’. I was staring at her the whole time. She was so beautiful, her curves were fully covered in a long white skater dress. A very unique cream-ish rope was neatly tied round her waist I assumed it was the thing nuns used for belts to achieve the skater shape on their otherwise long funny dresses. A black beauty with a very smooth face I wanted to feel and confirm it was really flawless. I could already tell she had the most beautiful thick black african hair from the little she left open as the rest of it was covered with the white head scarf. Let me tell you something, she was more than a man could ask for but unfortunately, she had made a life time decision not to ever allow men get too close to her. Feelings of intimacy were forbidden at the convent.

I hadn’t passed my exams very well from the school I was coming from. My Mum was first to enter her office on the day of admission. I was meant to join form 2 but sister had decided to make me a form 1 again. She couldn’t help but disappoint my parents. They both walked out of her office still trying to convince each other why I deserved a form 2 slot and why I didn’t. I was startled by her smooth voice which made me look up immediately. Our eyes locked!

I went straight to Form 2 Orange!

Tis’ the season!

Born-a-Crime-Trevor-Noah-featureI am still roaming the streets of South Africa. I happen to be writing this from the hood, life was getting cheesy then all of a sudden the hard disk and the entire computer was destroyed. How did it even affect my productivity at work today?

Just one of those lazy Friday afternoons in the office. Trying to figure out whether to start digging into next week’s deliverable after a great meeting with a new client earlier. My thoughts are all over the place. School has become so exhausting of late, I’m experiencing a serious burn out. Class work, assignments, term papers, group work, you name them! Everything needs my attention and I’m over here scribbling unrelated words. My mind rushes to that favorite vodka but haven’t had lunch yet so these thoughts are doing yoga in my head. To order food or to get a drink delivery from Jumia in an hour! This that-this that-what now?

I happen to be part of the strongest team you will ever encounter. My work place is full of potential minds, great people you couldn’t ever think of trading, for now their minds are on hold ready for a great weekend. After a successful week of course! There is reggae music playing in the background…smh.  Total distraction, brought me back from the hood in South africa to some reality.

Trevor Noah has been part of my month. One of my new year resolutions was to read two books in a month. I started reading the former on the last day of February, such an exciting book; Born a Crime. It’s quite heavy with almost 1000 pages and so I choose to take it by its pace. On the side I’m dishing on ‘The Secret’ by Rhonda Byrne (Reading it for the 3rd time) such an inspiring read. So it’s the 31st of March and I am so disappointed in myself, I have 200 pages to go but then Trevor’s computer and hard disk were destroyed in a crazy police battle with civilians at the hood. The hood is the business centre hub of Alex, a town in South Africa. Trevor’s business was booming and the story was getting juicy until the police showed up *roles eyes*.

This has been a super exciting read. I don’t remember the last time I read a book continuously, not skipping any of my free times without rushing through a chapter. This book is both funny and very serious and the fact that it is based on a true story makes me wonder if these things still happen in the World we live in today. To be very honest I’m back finishing up on this post today, the 18th of November. I don’t know how it skipped my mind, I haven’t been busy, I think I just forgot to check up on my drafts. I finished reading this book early April. It was such an inspiration, I still promised myself that I would purchase it at one point in my life just to keep it for my generation and most importantly for my siblings to read.

Trevor Noah will take you through a story of a rough childhood. It describes the way society treats a woman with a child born out-of-wedlock and a child raised without a father. A deep story of the height of racism experienced in South Africa. It’s basically Trevor saying; look, you might know me as the funny guy, but here is who I really am where it all started.

Get your copy now and have a blissful beginning of the festive season!

Love and more love!

حب hubun

If Love is meant to be a beautiful thing, why then do we suffer while at it? Everywhere I go, no one in this era believes in marriage or a real working relationship. I might be an exception but you won’t understand my reasons.

The love I live for is that where I give all of it to a particular being. It’s hard to juggle between 4 or 5 flirts on my inbox daily. First of all, I hate lies! I barely hide stuff from people so it’s pretty sane to expect the same from my significant other but what if he was bred a liar?

I love because I want to. I love because I see the best in that one person. I love because my heart skips every time I see you. I love because I have a heart and apart from pumping blood, its other function is to get attached to another heart. I love because I want to pray for you every single day. This is me, I want all of you but will I get it? Will you love me the same way? Does it even matter?

We all long for the day we’ll walk down the aisle in the brightest of all the white veils available in the bridal shops in Nairobi. I will get mine from Ogake Bridal. We long for that vow that will tie us to the Father of our children in a forever bond. Before God and Man. Isn’t that a beautiful thing? You tell me if you haven’t teared over lovely engagements flooding your social media timelines. Sometimes you wish you would have met that man before that beautiful lass did. I mean everyone could use a companion for a lifetime. Someone who’s hair you could play with, help him comb his beard, spank him when he’s fixing you that yummy breakfast, laugh your heart out together and tell endless stories till dawn. It’s the little things that count.

I believe in love. I believe there are honest people out there and God has definitely planned to hook you up with one of them for a lifetime. Let’s not love to get depressed by the love we give. I picked a line from a post I came across in the morning..

…“Love is a beautiful thing. It shakes the very core of your existence. It’s a feeling that has no uniform description. It’s a pure feeling. One that comes free of selfish interests. It takes away power and gives you freedom. You get to feel and see life in another person’s eyes. The beautiful thing about love is that it doesn’t necessarily have to be mirrored. Love is about how you feel, not how you respond to the way another person feels about you. It’s not Newton’s Third Law.” via tedpot

It’s as simple as that. Love conquers everything!




I have just landed from Zimbabwe! Pheeeeeew! I had waited so long to come back home. Zim wasn’t what I expected.

There are some novels that tell a great story with a happy ending but there are others that leave us in distress. ‘‘The hairdresser of harare’ has been on my bucket list for the past one year. So here goes my first book of 2017.

But why Dumi? The story had an enthusiastic beginning, I couldn’t get my hands off my phone. I held on tightly and grasped a chapter after the other with every free minute I got.

2016 made me a book warm for African settings. I was just about to give up on African books until Linda sent me the hairdresser on the first day of the year. This is a great story told from Harare in Zimbabwe. It roughly brings out the modern World which leaves me confused, not sure if we want our children to be exposed to this kind of reality. I’m that kind of person, I don’t really want to tell it as it is because it scares me that by being on the know you might want to try it.

So this is a tale about Miss. Vimbai, the real hairdresser of harare but then a better version of her joins the famous salon in town. Mr. Dumisani. Everything changes when Dumisani takes over Vimbai’s clients. No sooner had they become rivals did Dumi need shelter and Vimbai had more than enough room available in her huge mansion. Dumi then becomes the greatest hair dresser of harare. Vimbai acquires mixed feelings about her personal relationship with Dumi who played housemate and  father to her 4 year old daughter and a rival relationship at the salon in competition.

Both realize a tale of their families which they have in common. They had difficult relations with their families but then Vimbai convinced Dumi to get back with his family which accepted her as a daughter in-law. The irony!! These two people are not dating. The entire family is super excited when their son shows up at his brother’s wedding with a girlfriend, a respectable woman and they go ahead and accept her daughter as well. It is not the easiest of decisions for an African family to make when their daughter in-law is coming in with a child. Strange that they loved both Mother and daughter unconditionally. If I knew what would happen after, I would have stopped reading the book right there. Confusing situations.

Dumisani did not ever make a move on Miss. Vim. One time she came home unexpectedly and found one of her client’s husband in the house with Dumi, at this point she couldn’t think of anything worse than just a friendly business chat. The situations were getting strange by every moment. Vimbai would offer herself to Dumi but he would  shun her away with sheepish reasons.

Honestly we don’t have to get intimate to realise we cannot live without each other. We experience attachments all over, even in the workplace. How about sharing a home with someone? How heavy could it get? Only to realise that the man you have always wanted to be with is homo sexual. Will it really end well?

Get your copy and help me complete my review. I’m still hangovered!


I’m still thinking about a sub headline I spotted on the papers this morning; could Raila be a jubilee mole in opposition? It could only mean one thing, a tale of two alliances that are one.
This how it all began back in 2008, a broken and divided country. A country with flowing rivers full of blood. A battle of the rivals. None of our so-called politicians was reported dead or hurt,
most of their relatives were under the watchful eye of the GSU. Full time protection from those of us who thought it wise to fight each other. Fighting over people who serve tea from the same kettle over a very good laugh.
It is that time for our country once again. The heat is on and blazing faster than we can imagine.
I don’t know whether Kenyans don’t read or watch news and notice how the two major rivals relate. I wouldn’t understand why a person of sound mind is already fuelling violence for the upcoming general elections. Being just another citizen like you; here’s why I think we need to be very worried. We as the opposition supporters have already been to the streets severally all in agreement that we cannot support the government in whatever way. We the low-class endure tons of tear gas while our leaders are being protected and pulled away from the circus by the same government. On the other hand, we again as the Jubilee government sit back and watch Kenyans stab each other while we invite CORD leaders to our homesteads for a chat over dinner. Friends, even a little disagreement with your boss in the office gets you off the mood of sitting on the same table even over a glass of water.
Dear fellow Kenyans, isn’t this how it all began in 2008? Is this how you ended up burying your own child in the name of tribalism? You woke up one morning and had a conversation as a family and fueled each other’s thoughts. The man of the house said no to the incoming president, you as a teenager went out there to have a conversation with your peers. You got so angry at your best friend for supporting the incoming president. You stabbed him out of anger, are you ready to lose the new friend you made after that fateful day?
It is very okay to have an opinion. We cannot be accountable for what you think is right and what I think is wrong. Only adults of sound mind are allowed to register as voters, that is why children cannot vote. A minor is still entitled to holding on to his/her parents and they are always accountable of their children’s actions. Ye of sound mind, allow me to remind you the state of our country about 10 years ago. Allow me to show you pictures of dead bodies and blood filled cities. Allow me to refresh your mind back to The International Criminal Court, let me remind you that the suspects allegations were ruled out. You are not a nobody, because you are entitled to a wise vote. Your analysis, your thinking, your opinion, your vote, your choice.
Kura yako, siri yako. We do not necessarily have to announce the sides we have taken if we cannot do it without violence. Lest we forget. Lest we live to tell another sad story and grieve for our loved ones.


If I said I made it through the year because I didn’t snooze, would you doubt me?


I woke up almost every morning and hit the road, first a morning ritual; a 15 minutes run and a tummy trim workout (the tummy is still hanging on, smh) but I’m not about that life of giving up too soon. I tried to hit the gym for 2 weeks but my crazy schedule took away my hours, Zumba was my favorite part of the gym workout plan and still is. Have you ever had such a heavy schedule that even your girlfriends take offense when you can’t sneak a day for a hangout plan? You have an 8 to 5 job (definitely not what I’m doing right now, I love it!) that you really wasn’t so excited to wake up to and then very interesting classes that you can’t afford to skip from 5.30 to 8.30pm, there is just something about Daystar University that is irresistible. Sitting in class waiting on learning something new from what you want to pursue all your life, I so love that.


It’s been a great year! I know it’s so freaking cliché to write down new year resolutions but that’s just exactly what I did when 2016 began. First I said a very brief prayer but I asked God for so many things, he promised to deliver, we hit a fist bump and I got off my knees with a big smile. For sure most of these things we agreed on were dropped right at my doorstep. God has been exceedingly abundantly faithful which explains how grateful I am to have reached this day, the 29th day of December, 2341 hours.


I’m still up deep in thought, strategies left right and center. I rarely go to bed before midnight, but then again I have this sleeping disorder that cannot allow me to peacefully rest throughout the night. In a previous post, you all met my bed-mate, my phone has got lots of tasks to juggle for a whole certain random wee hour of the night – the sleeping disorder. (I’m working on finding out why I can’t go a whole night without losing sleep at some point, it sucks!!). Well, it’s different tonight, this is me trying to list down the kind of people to leave behind in 2016. I have given it too much thought, I have analyzed your life my dear reader, lol. I have analyzed the kind of relationships be it situationships, friendships.. I started this year. I obviously have thought about all the frustrations that brought tears to my eyes, as in the people who frustrated me. I have been disappointed a couple of times but I forgave and amnesia has refused to check in so if you disappointed me, I’m thinking about you right now. I’m thinking about the people I have lost in 2016, I am so angry at death, he or she robbed me off my grandfather, my aunties and just the other day my favorite uncle. So death, I am definitely leaving you in 2016, go away!!!!! And then back to thoughts of people who wronged me in 2016 but I just remembered that I forgave them. So who or what I’m I leaving here?!! on the verge of giving up, can’t figure this out. Perhaps life is such a beautiful thing that there is no point of holding grudges and shutting people out but instead gather the good and count the blessings. What made you happy? What did you achieve? Who did you wrong and what if you didn’t apologize? Simply positive thoughts. Think on these things people.


Just as I’m about to sign out, my eyes are so heavy, dry lips – I need to grab a soda from the crates in the kitchen store – festive season things! But just before I tip toe to the kitchen, my little phone vibrates and startles half of my people who had dozed off on the sofas; hahahaha and then this lady goes like; “sasa mrembo, nitakua around kesho, utakam?” End end of this story. I am leaving her behind, who is mrembo?! If you have ever addressed me as mrembo in the past 11 months, we are done. Baki 2016!! Some of these uncourteous words cannot accompany your beautiful resolutions, drop them!

And now there is no more soda left, I laughed so hard at finally getting a person to drop in 2016 after hours of brainstorming and eventually losing it. Just at that right time to disrupt the entire community and get them thirsty all of a sudden. Happy new year Warembo.

2017, Olaaaaa….I see you 🙂



Taking Stock 2016


Making: Memories with my loved ones. It’s been a rough year for my family, I just want to be around them; encourage and comfort each other. Also making more and more beautiful memories with my new colleagues and friends.
Thanking: God for landing me in the Public Relations industry, I can proudly refer to myself as a practitioner. A little girl’s dream come true. Driven by passion and nothing but it. Willing to learn even under the craziest of pressures…all I remember is telling the interviewer that I don’t think they need to pay me for being trained (nigg’ was left aloof but that’s what passion is all about). To my Dad I am so grateful that you actually allowed me to go for it and promised to support me till I get financially stable. What in the World would I have done without him?
Hoping: That this new job opportunity will be that ideal place I get all my gears set for the PR World. Too excited.
Eating: Lots of sausages. I’m on a roll of beef and pork sausage cravings.
Drinking: The best of my masala tea. Just come to my house and bond with a tea lover over a cup of one. Just a cup of my favorite masala tea with lots of rosemary leaves, cardamons, the masala itself from Nature’s own and alooooot of milk.
Reading: For the remaining two papers and other three books at the same time; A New Africa Breaks Free, Wanted and The Bible.
Wanting: To go on a trip to Watamu or Malindi with my family this holiday.
Wasting: No time on people who do not add value to my life.
Wishing: I would bring back to life my Uncle Andrew. Rest in Peace. I love you so much. I promise we will be there for Aunty and our cousins every single day. I just wish you had stayed a little bit longer…it is so hard to say goodbye.
Enjoying: My new Job! No doubt!
Wearing: Blue rugged pants, a smashing transparent orange top and a blue blazer. Planning to be in very high black heels for Jeff’s birthday tonight. Whoop!
Following: YALI posts. An aspiring young leader in my industry.
Noticing: Negative people and not planning to associate with them. Positive vibes only for me.
Understanding: My feelings.
Opening: A huge envelope with my old laptop forced to fit in. The broker just brought it back after I refused to take 5,000 for it. I would rather keep it *rolls eyes
Feeling: Great and having no regrets of the things I have done this year. Only very many lessons learnt.
Singing: Africa by Yemi Alade and Sautisol. I’m in love with Yemi.
Thankful: To God for healing my friend Christine Wairimu, I almost lost my mind seeing her suffer for 5 months. Also thankful for my friends, it’s been a good year for us.
Highlighting: Moments in the year that I travelled to Mombasa for the first time on a birthday treat from Christine Wairimu and Levy K. Then another beautiful trip to Diani for a weekend with the girls. Epic moments.
Ending: The year with my Uncle’s funeral on the 16th of December. Sad way to wind up but in God’s hands he rests. Rest in Peace my dearest Uncle Andrew Ouko, Baba Brian. Love and Beyond. I don’t even know where we will begin but watch over all of us.
Loving: The fact that I don’t know what the new year will bring but I’m already thanking God for what is about to happen in my life.

Happy Holidays!!


The Calorie Burn

early-morning-runBeen planning this for like a year now. I remember attending a training workshop at my former workplace sometime last year. On the last day, tiny manila paper cut-offs were circulated. You were asked to write what you want to cut off from your life and never turn back, I carefully wrote down “PROCRASTINATION” as my first point. Sigh!

Hmmmm…and so I asked God to walk with me through this journey of not postponing anything. A few days later I visited my parents back in Nakuru. You know Mothers with their comments when you visit them after a long time. Mine is not an exception. Oh we missed you Boke! that’s what she calls me. As in know! So we held each other so tight for a few minutes then she does the usual inspection from head to toe. You’ve got to love Mums…This Nairobi life is making you lighter by the day and how big have you grown?! I thought there was no food in the city. That’s what they always say whenever you pass by home even when on duty and of course that statement is followed by a gunia stacked in the car full of tomatoes, onions, mboga ya kienyeji, beans, ndengu…et al. Still my Mum insists on how ‘fat’ I have grown since the last time she saw me. But will not remember the number of times she has sent every Tom, Dick and Harry to deliver a gunia after another whenever they come to Nairobi. I love you Mama!

And then my friend Wairimu moved in to a new apartment just next to where I live. So I offer her a first visit to help unpack the bags and what not, only thing she didn’t mention is where exactly she moved into. Which house, which floor? 6th floor, yap! Long story short, I got there panting like a dog with the taste of blood in my mouth and fire in my throat. I couldn’t even move a bag, it’s like I was fighting for breath. Struggling to talk, wheezing like I’d climbed a mountain or something. I don’t even know how climbing a mountain really feels.

I had been so reluctant with my body to even relate my pants not fitting anymore to growing ‘fat’ as my Mum put it. Being that bibliophile, I chose to read about the most basic ways of keeping fit and maintaining a normal lifestyle at the same time.Apart from obesity and a ‘bad heart’, being unfit also causes depression, I read. Keeping fit doesn’t mean losing your body, no. It means keeping healthy, who doesn’t want to avoid being sick?

So the morning run is what I have been planning for the past one year, then snooze happened, waiting to have a partner also happened, pretending to be scared of the dark. Lol. I had all this kind of excuses until this morning. Yes I did it!! For some people it has become a norm and they are wondering what I am writing about but for those of us who have been thinking about it and doing nothing!! Be encouraged.

You don’t have to make a trip to the gym; all you need is a pair of good shoes and a banging playlist. At least, that’s how it feels at first.

On to a few tips:

  • Eat Right. Do not just jump out of bed and onto the terrain. Grab something. You need that energy!!
  • Warm Up. You can’t begin like Kemboi on the track. Jog first then pace up!
  • Set a goal. If you are running around the estate, draw your map. Route. Consistency is key!
  • Stay Hydrated. Water is life. Quench your thirst.
  • Change it Up. You can’t afford to jog everyday. Run, run faster!!!
  • Don’t just run. Rocket jump at some point.
  • Have a post-run ritual. If you have enough time after the run, you could always skip a rope or maybe do your crunches.
  • Rest. Always take a few minutes to relax then jump into the shower and you are ready for a productive day.

Let’s do this people.running

Have a lovely Thursday 🙂