Being a runner for almost 15 years, you would think that new running experiences are rare. Think again. I have recently discovered what will make my next 15 years of running just as if not more interesting, challenging, rewarding and fun as the first 15 years. It’s called overseas running. If you keep up to date with my blog, you will know about my first overseas race in Rome in March 2018. If you haven’t read it, take a few minutes to read it before you read on.
On 10th March 2019 I ran my second overseas race, the Paris Half Marathon or Harmonie Mutuelle Semi de Paris with my husband Jack. For this half marathon I came prepared. I wasn’t going to make the same rookie mistakes I made last year. So the bags were packed with all the race day essentials including the clothes and energy gels that never made it to Rome.
Flights went on time, bags arrived, and race numbers were collected at the Expo where we bought a few running items and the most delicious ham and cheese baguette. Perfect pre-race carb loading. Already things were running smoother than last year.
We arrived at our hotel well fed and ready to see Paris, for perhaps the sixth time. We had been to Paris before on romantic weekends together and not so romantic Ireland vs France rugby matches together. Some work trips too and trips with families and friends. But with every wonderful city we were about to discover it in a new way. Starting with a tour of the Eiffel tower which we had never done before. Mostly because we don’t have the patience for queueing. We prefer to spend our time strolling around taking in the sights at our own pace. Dipping in and out of patisseries, wine bars or restaurants. The latter not an option today. After waiting with the tour group for about 30 minutes before the tour started, we both had a simultaneous déjà vu from our Colosseum tour in Rome the day before the Rome Half Marathon. And realisation. We don’t like tours. Too late. The tour started. And we queued. By the third queue on the 2nd floor viewing area (one floor from the top), we decided to break the queue and head for the downward lift. Reminding ourselves to think twice before booking a tour again.
We had booked an Italian restaurant Alfio near the Eiffel Tower for our pre-race dinner. Not easy to find in Paris but we struck gold on this one. Ironically both the pizza and pasta were better than in Rome last year. The staff were really friendly and highly amused by our food order of 3 main courses for 2 people: Pizza, Steak and Pasta. They were even more amused when our plates were almost licked clean. They wished us well in our race the next day and off we went back to our hotel with our belly’s full and our hearts content. Feeling relaxed and ready for race day. Polar opposites to last year.
We were up early for breakfast. With the Weetabix and muesli I had brought from home I regrettably declined the delicious looking mouth-watering fresh pastries and fruit that were brought to our table. We walked to the metro station with the tickets we bought the previous night. Fully prepared. Taking no chances. We got to the race start area and dropped our bags off. Then as always went to start queuing at the portaloos. Given the 40,000 race entrants we expected long ones. We saw none. Because there were no portaloos. In all of my racing years this was a first. And it sparked my first pre-race attack of the nerves. There is no improvisation in this department for women. I found a restaurant and spent 45 minutes queuing for the one toilet. A woman beside me told me that Paris has a problem with toilets. All I could think about was what was going on outside on the banks of the River Seine with the thousands of men who can improvise. Ugggh.
I found my starting area just in time for the pre-race clapping. Not by the supporters but the race entrants. I’ve never experienced anything like it. It was brilliant. And as close as I’ve ever got to being involved in some sort of pre-match Hakka type ritual. Then we were off. Running alongside the River Seine, past monumental historic buildings, boutique shopping streets, stunning architecture all around. Breath-taking. On two fronts as I had set out too fast so I settled in to a good pace by the first water station at 5km. We then ran through the Bois de Vincennes Park which with the buds of Spring was spectacular.
The course route had ups, downs, straights, turns and roundabouts. Like Ireland we had four seasons in one day. Sun, clouds, hot, cold, wind and rain. At times the wind was so strong it felt like I was back home battling the winds on the seafront. At its strongest, being no stranger to such running conditions, I was over taking people left right and centre. That felt pretty good. After the park there was a slight downhill stretch back through the streets of Paris and before I knew it I was back at the River Seine crossing a bridge, turned right and the finish line was meters away. The short straight run up to the finish line a very pleasant change. I finished in 1.34.40. So despite turning 43 in February, maintained my sub 1.35 start line position.
What cannot go unsaid nor be emphasised enough about the Paris Half Marathon is the supporters. They were phenomenal. People lined the streets at every turn. They were constantly cheering us on and there wasn’t one single stretch that felt isolated or quiet. And these were just the unofficial supporters. There were also huge amounts of official supporters, with music playing and bongo dancing stations throughout the route. For obvious reasons I did not see one familiar face and no one was officially out to support me but I felt well and truly supported throughout the race. My Inter Cert French is rusty but I heard the words “allez” and “femme” shouted at me throughout the course. Being the 116th femme to cross the finish line out of 11,798 femme runners, I probably did stand out a bit running amongst a sea of hommes as I came 2,643th place overall.
I reunited with Jack at the baggage area and we sat down on a bridge that crosses the River Seine to tuck in to our race goody bag. To my huge disappointment there was no mouth-watering French pastry or crusty baguette in it. But if you recall from earlier I was leaving nothing to chance today. I had popped one of the croissants into my bag at breakfast. It was one of the most delicious croissants that I have ever had.
We went back to our hotel on the Metro where I saw my first familiar face of the day. Sitting down waving over at us was the waitress from our restaurant the night before. In a city of over 2 million people what are the odds? She was smiling and congratulating us and offered me her seat. Which I respectfully declined. Then on the other side of us a French gentleman asked us where we had come from. To which we told him. Then he and everyone else around us starting clapping and cheering us. As I said I have been to Paris on numerous occasions. In my book it is now not simply one of the most romantic and cultural cities in the world. It is also one of the friendliest.
We relaxed for a bit back at our hotel. Then started the second leg of our trip. We shopped in the Adidas store on the Champs-Élysées (Paris Half Marathon sponsors, sponsorship works!), ate and drank for Ireland and watched the Ireland v French 6 Nation’s rugby match in an Irish bar. Then flew home the next morning.
I came prepared for Paris and there is little that I would change about it or do differently. If I could change something I would put portaloos at the start area. Freshly baked French pastries and baguettes at the finish line. What I would do differently is not do a tour the day before the race. Instead I would rent a bike or a rickshaw to see the course route as I like to know what’s ahead of me when doing races. And I won’t assume anything about the race. Including portaloos at the start area.
The Rome 2018 and Paris 2019 Half Marathons have just one thing in common. Distance. Everything else about the two experiences are different in so many ways. Neither better nor worse than the other. Just both very different. Which makes for why overseas racing is my new running passion. We are already planning our next year’s overseas half marathon location. I’ll keep you posted.
