14th Annual International Siem Reap Half-Marathon

I have played a lot of sports in my life: competitive basketball and tennis tennis year-round in Germany growing up, intramural baseball, basketball and soccer at FIS as a kid, swimming in our backyard pool and the local team, trying out for an American Football team in Frankfurt as a 14year old (and getting explicitly asked to return after only 20 minutes of the first practice, but not having enough money or time to afford the twice-weekly commute, and never even thinking to ask my parents), basketball, football, rock-climbing, and ultimate frisbee in high school, ultimate and intamural basketball in college, and everything else with a ball or a team in a less official capacity throughout my life. But there is one thing I never enjoyed, nor truly gave a shot: running.

In the 4 years at GW, I always ran harder than I wanted or even was smart in practice, but only went on distance runs if there was no way to avoid them. I always felt I could make up for that in practice, working harder than anyone realized, playing on a broken toe my senior spring that no one except Brody knew about (and that's why he always picked me up from practice after everyone else left - I physically could not walk home). So really, the longest distance I had ever run in my life was an 8 mile run Faust put us through my Junior year.

Until a few weeks weeks ago that is. When planning for my month in Cambodia, I very explicitly asserted that I would not visit the temples of Angkor Wat at Siem Reap during this trip. Since they are the highlight - and reason for - most trips to Cambodia, I should probably explain why I t would say that: Anytime I get into museums or archaeological sites I spend hours upon hours there, reading every printed word and trying to absorb as much of the place as possible. Given that my time in Cambodia was going to include no more than free weekends to explore things outside of Phnom Penh and I didn't feel that such a short time would do Angkor Wat justice (I think it's about 30 square miles in total), I told anyone who asked what I planned on seeing that I would not be heading to Siem Reap. Instead, I planned on getting to know Phnom Penh a bit, maybe going for a weekend (or two) at the sea by Sihanoukville. Angkor Wat would still be there on my next trip....

But then I was out for drinks my first weekend in town with the core of what became my regular P.P. crew, and one of them mentioned a half-marathon amongst the temples of Angkor Wat - with proceeds going to charity. The White African and I looked at each other, and though neither one of us committed right away, it was pretty clear to me that both of us would participate if our research/field work schedules didn't interfere. For me personally, the desire to complete this race were threefold:
- As I am missing, through the Cambodia and USA trips, the first 3 months of Burro training for next season I felt compelled to do fitness work on my own. Given my previously stated aversion to running, I thought that preparing for the half marathon would be a good way to motivate myself to go out and do the running work, at least.
- I didn't want to half-ass the temples in 2 days, but I felt this way I would at least see some of the temples without short changing them as the goal wouldn't be to actually see them. Rather I would be able to go and accomplish a specific task - the run - while still getting to see at least some of the temples.
- Not previously having run such a distance, a new challenge presented itself. More and more people I know are doing marathons, and I wanted to see what distance running is like. Plus, I believe you should try everything once and the fun things twice.

So how did it go?
- Prep was a disaster. Working in an office where the hours are 7.30 am to 5.30 pm, it was dark already when I would leave; and I wasn't about to run before work, homey please! In total, my preparation ended up consisting of an attempted 10km run on the Saturday the week before the race. Unfortunately, I attempted this run at noon in a tropical climate and polluted city. Running to the Olympic Stadium (more on that edifice/complex if I ever find the time) was ok as i was able to more or less stay in the shade. But once I was running in the big empty stadium, alone on the ash track with the scorching sun beating down on me I couldn't do much distance anymore. It was so brutal that I could only do 1200 meters (3 laps) at a time and would then have to rest in between. It was painful and despiriting, and after a few of these sets I gave up and began running back towards home, stopping for a fresh cococnut (about 1 liter of juice!) on the way. Total distance run was maybe 6 or 7 km, where i had intended to run 10 in the stadium plus the run there and back.
- On Friday night, 2 days before the race, The White African insisted we go running, so we once again headed to the stadium. It was going fine, this time running in a dark stadium, until we got kicked out. Total run? 4-5 km.
Neither the White African nor I had registered beforehand, and when we showed up at the on-site registration we were told it was closed as they had run out of spaces. This despite their insistence on the phone all week that registering on site would not be a problem. A girl who'd bussed down from Bangkok was in the same boat and the three of us got together to beg, demand, and cajole our way into the race, even as others around us were being turned away left and right (literally). We didn't get the timing chips, but we got to race, and that's all we really wanted.
- TLS and new wife (whom I'd never met before) were in Siem Reap the same weekend as the run, so we met up on Saturday evening for drinks and dinner. everyone else hit the sack early, but I ended up drinking with TLS until midnight. Mind you the race began at 6.30 am and out tuktuk was booked for 5.45 am, so I was getting up at 5.15
- The run itself was amazing. Running through/between the temple complexes along 1000 year old walls lining the smoothly paved roads with a forest canopy above much of the run and lots and lots of Cambodian children lining the side, extending their tiny arms for high fives/hand slaps it was an amazing first distance race experience. You'd be running along, especially after the 10k mark, just focused on putting one foot in front of the other and happen to look to the side, where beautifully carved temples were collapsed and eroded, their large carved rocks spilling down what once must have been a massively impressive facade all the way to the edge of the road. My descriptions really can't do the sensation of running there justice, so I'll just stop, It was amazing.
- Since my preparation had been so horribly sub-par, I did not have very high expectations for myself going into the race. I wanted to finish. I wanted to complete the first 10 k without stopping and walking. And in an ideal world, I thought maybe I could manage those first 10 k in 50 minutes despite the fact that I had only managed 6 minute kilometers in the two training sessions I undertook. Indeed, I expected to manage the first 10 to 12 k running, then walking until about 17, then running the rest. What actually happened was quite different:

I asked another runner for my time at the 6k mark, where I stood at 32:30, and decided to pick up my pace. I saw the same runner again at ~11k and decided to trail her as I was beginning to fade and she had come up from behind and passed me. At 12k I asked the time again, now at exactly 64 minutes flat. From then on we ran side by side as she clocked out kilometer splits, all of which were between 5:15 and 5:20 until about 17.5k when i told her to run on ahead as I knew I couldn't sustain the pace. I made the mistake of stopping to pee and coudln't get started again, so I just began walking, mixed with short runs, until a guy grabbed me from behind at about 19.5 and grunted "keep running!" I soon had left that guy in the dust and as I approached the finish I got faster and faster, concluding with a speed that I heard other runners and people in the crowd comment on very positively ("Look at how fast that guy's going!" was hear from someone in the crowd).
Ultimately, I crossed the finish line about 1:55 (one hour, fifty five minutes) after I crossed the starting line, surpassing all my expectations and feeling very good about myself. I now know that I can run a half marathon without training in under 2 hours. But I paid the price in pain over the following days. And yet I would do it again.

Here we are before the race