'I'm up at 5.30am for my morning run, which is for no less than one hour. My running partner is Joseph Kibunja; he's my friend and neighbour and lives about 800 metres from my family's home. Joseph comes over and we run along the roads near our homes. We live about 20km outside Nairobi city.
It's early in the morning so there are not many people about, but by the time we finish, there are many more people. They clear the path or move out of the way for us.
I lost my vision overnight when I was 21 years old. A mild stroke destroyed my optic nerves and took away 95 per cent of my sight. I'm now 30. The big three-zero.
In the beginning, when we started running, it was much more difficult because there were always people in the way. Now they recognise us and know what we are doing so they are happy to move out of the way.
When we run, we are tied together with a piece of rope. Sometimes we try to run without the rope. I run by listening to Joseph's steps and all the time I'm listening to what he's saying. I have to concentrate hard on the sound of his feet on the road. I tell him to go in front of me and I try to follow the sound. Other times, we might run side by side without the rope and he will tell me which direction to go in or he will nudge me with his arm. I have to feel him; I have to know where he is; it's like we are tied together, even if we don't have the rope. I always feel he is next to me. He'll push with his arm, or he'll tell me to move left or right or slow down.
I can remember where we run from before I lost my sight. I have this picture in my head so I have a rough idea of where the potholes and bumps are. Joseph will also call 'pothole' and when he does, I have to put it on the map inside my head.
