Tuesday, January 23, 2024

The Longest 26.2 Miles on the Continent

The Marathon is almost as much of a holiday as Christmas or Thanksgiving. People have been training for it since they arrived on the Ice. Your intrepid author did not, in fact, participate in the Marathon (wouldn't you know it, I left my running shoes back in 2011) but I've spent a good while watching the dedication of those training to be a part of it, and I am truly impressed.

(Crossing the finish line)

For some, the Marathon is their big moment and they've been training for it both on and off the Ice. Others learned about it after coming down and began their training at the beginning of the season. And I know at least one of my buddies decided to do it a month before and crammed all his training into the final few weeks. On the day of, somewhere around 70 people participated in the run. Out of those, eight of my fellow galley people ran, so there were plenty to cheer for.

Despite all the space we have access to, the actual running trail was limited. Instead of beginning at the chapel and following a course in the surrounding area, as had been done for the Turkey Trot and 10k, the Marathon is set up so that two trips, there and back, from the Ice Road Intersection to Phoenix Airfield would constitute the distance. Like everything, there was a fair party atmosphere at the trek. While there might have been 70 people running, there were still plenty there to support the event as volunteers and more to just cheer on everyone participating.

The support came in a variety of ways. Racers were shuttled out and back in the vans, which I'm sure saved many a runner's legs. At mile three, there was a set-up for hotdogs and burgers to refuel with. Similar to at IceStock, a small grill was manned to provide nourishment to the runners. How much someone wants an all-beef hotdog while running a marathon is another matter that I'm not able to weigh in on. Of course, medical and support staff were there to watch out for everyone, and there was always a lookout along the track in case something happened beyond the turn around points. And also one Kiwi who hung around to "chase" some of the marathoners with his chainsaw. Probably best we don't think too hard about that one.

The whole day felt like a community event.  Plenty of friendly competition, sure, but also just everyone supporting each other as they went along. Many people were in costumes over their running gear. This year continues to be the Year of the Onesie, as they were the common tracksuit. One buddy of mine said that the guys he ran with kept gummy worms in their pockets—both as a boost of sugar when needed, and to pass out to people that they encountered along the run. He also said that he had to stop giving high-fives toward the end because of how tired he was and how it threw off his running groove. That interpersonal factor was super important to a lot of runners. I heard more than a few talk about how they were able to keep going because of the friends they were running with. It's a lot easier to give up when you're on your own.

(Even if you didn't have someone specifically for you)

There's apparently some very surreal experiences when it comes to a marathon in Antarctica. Running on ice was a new experience for many. While it wasn't slick like a skating rink, many noticed how different it was. Some parts were well-packed and easy to run on, while other stretches had divots and snowdrifts that you'd want to avoid. While a city marathon might feel similar, one runner noted how the sea ice looks the same all the way across, so sometimes it felt like running in place with how little the scenery changes. The fact that it was overcast didn't help, and while the wind wasn't terrible, I'm sure any runner you know can tell you how much fun running into the wind is. But considering it was at their backs the other way, I guess you can call it a wash.

Everyone, it seems, had their own goals for running the marathon. One ambitious man wanted to break the continental record. He came in at a time of 3 hours and 05 minutes. Certainly a solid finish for the first place runner, but the record is 2 hours and 47 minutes, so not this year. As for other runners, I'm very proud of my galley people. Of the 8 that ran, 4 ended up in the top 10. My eyes on the ground ended with a time of 3 hours and 58 minutes. I don't know much about marathons, so I'll just assume a sub 4 hour time is good.

The general sentiment seems to be that everyone who went to the Marathon got what they wanted out of it, at least in some way. For some, it's definitely the bragging rights. To go home and tell your friends, "Yeah, I ran a marathon in Antarctica," is certainly a sweet prospect. For others, it's just a case of proving it to yourself. The idea that "I did this" and the hard work paid off. It's something that'll be with you for the rest of your life. And while it feels like I'm hammering this point, the personal connections forged through it are amazing.

The story that sticks with me is from my kitchen buddy. He's never run a marathon before, but his mother is a fiend for them and has been running them most of her life. Well, he ran the Marathon and called his mom afterwards to tell her about it. Apparently she broke down in happy tears because now someone else in the family "gets it." It inspired a family connection that I don't think either knew would be so powerful.

Antarctica is the embodiment of overcoming obstacles. From the first explorers even getting here to living daily life down here, there are challenges and unexpected setbacks all the way. So for people to choose to take on even more and put themselves through this, they've earned my respect.

Still not doing it if I come down here again though.

(Photos are from McMurdo public file sharing site and are from the 2023 marathon. 2024 won't be uploaded for a while it seems.)

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