The boom in vacation running and Yosemite Half Marathon
Thank you so much for all your comments from last week’s post, you’ve confirmed my theory that the 7-year running itch does seem to be “a thing” and has resonated with a lot of you which is always gratifying. This week’s post is somewhat of a follow on, it’s all about combining races in far flung places, packaged up as a holiday, which is one (increasingly common) way to either stay motivated, or get some much-needed motivation back!
A recurring theme in some of my conversations this week was how many runners are opting out of the everyday, run of the mill races and instead opting in to races abroad, corroborating a trend I’ve also been noticing for a while- the enormous boom in “runcations”, runners incorporating weekend getaways or holidays to cities hosting major races and events.
The first time I realised running could take you beyond your own backyard was when my dad ran the Mount Everest Marathon. I wasn’t a runner then, I was knee-deep in nappies, but I knew he was doing something amazing. I still remember the headline in the local paper: “An elite group of 75 runners to tackle the highest race in the world, finishing at 12,000ft above sea level.”
Don’t get me wrong, what he did was incredible, but my dad was just a regular club runner who picked up running after having his gallbladder removed in his 40s. Still, back in 2002, races like this were certainly not the usual “run of the mill” events.
Just getting to the start line at Mount Everest Base Camp was no small achievement as participants had to trek through the foothills of Nepal for 16 days (!!) camping out in sub-zero temperatures, it really does make the 10-minute walk from the hotel to the start line on the Champs-Élysées seem far too easy, doesn’t it!
Running has gone global, we all know this, and the growth has opened doors to huge commercial opportunities, this running boom, which might at first seemed a temporary trend, at least partly in response to Covid, has now morphed into a well-established, well oiled, long-term movement that doesn’t look like it’s going anywhere.
Major corporations and have tapped into this new source of income by sponsoring events, launching products as races are being branded as “experiences” with merchandise, VIP packages and entertainment – this is a whole new trajectory.
The once exclusive club of the Abbott World Marathon Majors (WMM) which has in the last decade, seen an increase of over 40% growth in participants for Berlin, London & Chicago highlights how the demand for places is strong enough for organisers to keep expanding capacity; next week’s London Marathon is expected to surpass the 55, 646 mark of Octobers New York marathon. I mean…..wow!
The increase in global race events has created a huge market of opportunity for us “regular” runners to run different distances in beautiful European cities, with the added appeal of all the hassle and stress being taken out of the equation, as guaranteed race entry is on top of your weekend packaged holiday’s agenda.
Free shots and entry to Club Tropicana have been replaced with early morning breakfast runs and a pasta party that will see you safely tucked up in bed by 8pm! We’re in a new era of chasing the buzz of finishing lines instead of last orders.
I personally love this, and love that it builds an even bigger running community, a community where it feels relative safe to travel alone, combining the two of the things that I love the most, running and travelling- allowing me to meet people from all walks of life, and all corners of the globe, knowing we are all part of the same ‘tribe’.
And training for big races and large events abroad is exciting, it feeds the soul and sparks a renewed motivation. Training for a race in a major city sounds exotic and chic. New York marathon you say? Wow! Amazing! No, sorry, I said York marathon. Oh, it’s not quite the same.
Running through unfamiliar streets, soaking up different cultures whilst experiencing the unity of international support is emotional, I defy anyone not to get teary basking in the limelight of being part of an impressive carnival atmosphere where the music, dancing, and cheering never ends. The crowds of family, friends and strangers clapping, cheering, whooping - where else can you experience everyone rooting for you - ALLEZ VERITE; there really isn’t anything like it at all.
Social psychology tells us that crowds can boost a runner’s performance, but we also know they can knock motivation, stir up emotions, and dent confidence. Research shows there’s a difference between helpful and unhelpful support, instructional encouragement like “keep the pace,” “downhill next,” or “brilliant running” all tend to lift runners, however, vague or inaccurate comments, especially about distance can do the opposite. And don’t we know it?
Let’s be honest, who hasn’t rolled their eyes at someone yelling “not far now!” when you’re only two miles down of a marathon? Or one of my favourites, “only a parkrun to go” or “keep running!” when you’ve clearly stopped for a very good reason.
Let’s also not gloss over those record-breaking numbers of runners taking part, with staggered starts of waves and pens trying to shoehorn 55,000 excitable runners across a start line in a safe and orderly manner. Waves divide runners into groups based on estimated finish times and pens further sub-divide the waves into smaller more manageable groups, with the aim to reduce crowding as the start line is crossed.
The goal of waves and pens is for runners to run with others of similar pace however, crowded early miles can make maintaining an even or target pace difficult- surging, stopping, and navigating dense runner traffic can often lead to frustration. This is especially true if runners are passing you from behind, and can lead to some poisonous seeds of doubt in your race day psyche, already on overdrive from the race day adrenaline- have I set off too slowly, aren’t we all meant to be roughly the same pace? Too often, and I’ve been here myself, convincing myself to abandon my race day strategy very early on in a race as runners zoom past me; hold your nerve!
And what happens when the logistics that make the “runcation” so appealing in the first place go wrong? I’ve also experienced this, having booked a weekend adventure to run in Chamonix. I was out of my comfort zone, and I knew it - the hills were high and the terrain would be tough. In the many months of intense training leading up to the event, I’d had to quash all those self-doubting thoughts that I wasn’t good enough, that I wasn’t a “real” endurance runner, that I’d be out of my depth with the crew I was going with. Imposter syndrome doesn’t even cut how I was feeling leading up to that weekend, despite all my meticulous months of preparation. I’d trained, I’d shouted about it all over social media, I’d even purchased the obligatory kit of a hydration vest and a torch. Joining the WhatsApp group allowed an emerging sense of belonging, and suddenly, in the nick of time, I knew I was ready, and now I could allow myself to be excited.
My phoned pinged the evening before I was due to fly, how nice of Easyjet to send me a reassuring message was my first thought. Sadly, it was to inform me that my flight had been cancelled. No big deal, I just booked onto another a bit later in the afternoon. The next day, now raring to go, off I set to the airport when, yes you probably guess it, another message came through, telling me that my flight was again cancelled.
I pulled into a layby on the A3 not quite believing what I was reading, feeling completely winded. I honestly did not know what to do. My eldest daughter and her family, who were also on their way to the airport for a different (very different!) holiday, drove past and recognised my car.
She phoned me to check if I was having car trouble, only to hear me crying uncontrollably on the other end of the call. OMG mum! What’s wrong, what’s happened, are you ok?! I remember her increasingly panicked voice as I couldn’t calm myself down enough to speak.
She directed me to take 5 deep breaths and meet them in the next layby, which I eventually managed. Her mother-in-law squished up in the back to let me in, and I will never forget the look on her face when she realised that the reason I was so distraught was “only” that I couldn’t go to my running weekend. She couldn’t believe I could react like that when nothing truly awful had happened, but it’s all relative isn’t it, because to me it really was awful!
I reluctantly had to face the fact that an airport strike in France meant there was no hope in hell I would get there, and I limped back home and faced a very long weekend of excited WhatsApp messages from the others who had managed to make the trip. Leaving the WhatsApp group seemed churlish, so instead I tried hard to silence the pings, and I tried even harder to stop shopping for pain as I scrolled through the images of snow-capped mountains emerging in the sunrises, cursing French baggage handlers under my every breath.
My next race is Yosemite half marathon in May. I’ve felt strangely reluctance to share this information to my Substack for some reason, but after reliving (I mean, writing about!) the Chamonix debacle it’s no doubt borne from knowing that there are many things that could go wrong between now and then. But it’s all systems go now, so watch this space…