Inside, the expo looked a lot like one you'd see at a small or medium-size race in the US. There were a few dozen vendors selling shoes and gear, promoting upcoming events across Europe, and giving away free samples. One interesting thing I noticed is the lack of competition between the vendors. Each brand, be it Asics or Brooks or adidas, had only one seller. Even the few local equivalents of Fleet Feet made sure not to sell something someone else also had. The oddest thing, though, was the actual packet pickup. There were separate areas for the 10k and the marathon, and that's it. You could walk up to any one of the very friendly volunteers to get your envelope, no segregation by bib number at all. Since they didn't let you know your number in advance, they had to do it this way (or by last name), but it sure put a strain on the people handing the materials out. They had to go back and forth across the area constantly depending on each person's last name. Very inefficient for a race with ~15,000 runners. I'm guessing this is one thing Competitor will change next year.
Hopping on the Metro on Sunday morning presented an interesting contrast of lifestyles. At 745am, 80% of the train was filled with runners on their way to the race. The other 20% were on their way home from their Friday night festivities. I'm not sure which group found the other to be wearing the most interesting attire. Dressed in my Qatar Airways pajamas, I certainly looked like I didn't belong to either group. If it wasn't for the gear check bag over my shoulder, I could easily have passed for one of the beggars or street performers found all over the city. The PJs may not be pretty, but they sure do make wonderful throwaway clothes.
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| We walked past the finish line to drop our bags off |
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| The gun went off about a minute later |
As the masses moved forward, I was amazed to actually be up to speed as I crossed the line. That's when I realized that the stories about this being a pretty serious and fast marathon had some truth to them. I didn't have to weave or dodge a single person doing the Galloway program and walking 1/4 mile after the start. Everyone was off and running and running fast. A few kilometers into the race (I love how the numbers go by faster in non-American races), I became aware that my usual m.o. when running a race alone - find people to chat and run with - wasn't going to be an option. You'd think I would've realized this sooner, but I guess I assumed that a RnR event would draw plenty of non-Spanish speaking runners. Nope. I was alone in the midst of 15,000 runners. Bleh.
To give myself at least some hope of having the same people around me to look at and feel like a pack with, I cruised up alongside the pace group and settled in for the long haul. Suddenly, I heard two voices in English asking me about my WISH shirt. I looked over my shoulder to find Amy, a TNT member from Colorado, and her coach Jennifer. They were as happy to see me as I was to see them because Jennifer wanted to leave Amy to go and help the other TNT runners at the race. And thus began a beautiful friendship. Ok, it was more like a temporary running partnership, but it worked. Amy and I had the best time together. We talked up a storm about past race experiences, the cool buildings and monuments we were passing (note: the Real Madrid stadium is not a very impressive place from the outside), and the dirt dished out by the head of Competitor Group at their TNT dinner the night before the race.
Running with Amy is how I found out about the biggest conflict between RnR and the local race people: when to start the sweeper for the 6-hour time limit. The locals wanted to start it immediately, making it more of a 5:45 time limit for the people who crossed the line last and really needed the extra 15 minutes the most. RnR, thankfully, won the argument and the sweepers didn't start until the last runners had crossed the line and gotten several kilometers up the course. Amy also told me they learned at their dinner that the race was 80% men, down from almost 90% the year before. That sure explains why we kept hearing "Vaya chica!" everywhere we went. The locals were surprised and pleased to see women out there running. Well, most of the locals were, anyway. I heard from another woman afterwards who was subjected to more than a few catcalls and insults during her race. Kind of sad there are assholes all over the world.
Back to the race...I barely glanced at my watch the entire first half. I was having too much fun taking in the sights and trying to keep track of where we were going. We ran past all kinds of parks, cool buildings, funky neighborhoods, and even down a few alleys barely big enough to get a car through. It's a good thing there were people in front of me because I never would have thought a race in a large city would leave the streets as many times as we did. The crowd support was decent most of the way and excellent in places like the Plaza del Sol, where we ran right through the square and thousands of people cheering. I was in the midst of one of the most effortless marathons I've ever run and was loving every minute of it. We hit the halfway mat in 2:04, and I didn't feel tired or under pressure at all.
Unfortunately, Amy wasn't feeling quite as good. I found myself a few yards in front of her more and more frequently as we made our way past the palace (absolutely stunning!) and down the hill to Casa de Campo (hooray for running in the shade). Each time, I slowed slightly to let her catch up, but eventually I had to go on. We had slowed to a 10 min/mile pace, which seemed way too slow for me given how good I was feeling. Finally, just after mile 17, I wished her luck and pushed ahead. I quickly settled back into my previous pace and did a quick check of how everything was doing. Feet, ankles, knees, and legs all felt fine; no need to do anything differently. I was in the groove and motoring right along. I even hit sub-9 several times going down the hills. I generally don't fly downhill, but I had the voice of David Hoffman, a running friend from Houston, in my head. The last time we had run together, he kept after me to just lean forward and let gravity do the work, to not try to trash my quads by intentionally slowing myself down. David, you'll be happy to know I followed your advice on all the hills in the race, and there were quite a few of them.
I finally began to slow down as the course left the park, crossed back over the river, and turned uphill towards the center of the city and the finish. The last four miles or so were one really long climb interrupted by a handful of flat spots. That's not exactly the terrain we can train for here in Doha, but I didn't really care. I kept my cadence the same and trucked on up that hill as best I could. When I finally reached the top, just 2k from the finish, I felt like I was in the middle of the Tour de France. The crowd was so big, cheering so loudly and wildly, and pressed into the course so much, I could barely run side-by-side when I had to pass someone. In one case, I actually had to body punch a guy on a bike who thought he could make it across the course and ended up stopped right in front of me. I know, violence has no place in the world, but it was either that or get my toes run over.
The crowds were thick and noisy the entire rest of the way to the finish. The barriers set up to give us a nice long finishing stretch didn't even keep them at bay. It wasn't until the last 400 or 500 meters that security managed to clear us a path wide enough to allow everyone to sprint for the finish without fear of tripping over fans or fellow runners.
Coming into the finish, I was trucking along pretty good, passing as many people as I could while trying to keep from getting passed. According to the fancy results that the Spanish provide online (much more interesting than the boring ones in the US), I picked off several hundred people in the last 2km. All these years of sprinting at the end of every run like my first coach told me to finally paid off. I came to a crashing halt after I crossed the line, literally. A woman in front and to the right of me decided she was going to just stop and start walking to her left. I didn't have any time to react and unfortunately plowed right into her. I ran her over with a pretty good head of steam on, and thankfully neither one of us was hurt. Bet that's the last time she finishes a race and stops suddenly instead of slowing down gradually like everyone else.
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| 4:12! Done! |
Approaching the bag check area, again, I noticed that two security guards were trying to prevent people from grabbing their bags and turning around to come back into the finisher's area. They wanted you to keep going and head out into the park where all the families and friends of the runners were waiting. I wasn't quite ready to fight my way through the crowd at the exit gate, but I really wanted to get my bag and change my shoes. Tough call. I ended up sitting down under a tree, loosening my laces, and munching on the bag of snack mix. Nice to have a race where you can relax on the grass instead of being in a parking lot.
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| Perfect place to relax after the race |
It really was a great race. The course was beautiful and very interesting with lots of monuments and other sights to see along the way, the weather was perfect for running, and I ran a pretty decent time without even working very hard. I felt comfortable and relaxed the whole time. Maybe that's due to running by feel because I was so busy talking and having fun, I barely glanced at my watch. Maybe it's the faster long runs on Friday mornings. Whatever made it happen, I'll take it.
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| Post race rehydration |
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| RnR always has cool medals |
