Danang International Marathon

From the moment I stepped out of the airport, I could tell that Da Nang would be a fun place to visit. I could hear the familiar buzz of motorbikes traveling down the busy streets. I could see the neon lights that lined so many buildings. The weather was warm and people were all starting to go out for the night. This is a great place for a vacation, but is it a great place to run a marathon?

I always think of marathons as an independent challenge, but that night, I wished I had traveled with a group of friends. When I signed up, my sole intention was to find a race that would keep me motivated to train throughout the summer. The timing was ideal, but I didn’t really think about the social element. I spent the evening wandering around the city and taking pictures of the vibrant atmosphere at night. 

Famous Dragon Bridge at night

Motorbikes buzz across the bridge

A nod to the famous Singapore Merlion

I had a really choppy night of sleep because my hotel was located next to a karaoke bar. Despite reading multiple reviews, I never saw anything about the noise. I was already getting nervous about the following night – particularly since I would already have to wake up painfully early for the 4AM start time.

Packet pick-up was located on the beach adjacent to the starting line. The “expo” was just a small line up local merchants’ booths and a DJ to keep the atmosphere lively. I knew it would be hot, but the harsh sun was beyond my expectations. Everyone huddled under large umbrellas to keep from sweating as they waited to pick up their race packs. I was surprised to meet quite a few foreigners who had traveled to Da Nang for the race. We chatted about previous racing pursuits as we waited in line. 

Hiding under umbrellas as we waited to pick up our race numbers

Packet Pickup was right on the beach

With my number in hand, I set off to explore the city again – this time in the daylight. I had lunch inside a shopping mall near the river because it seemed like the most hygienic option. Da Nang is full of tiny local restaurants with plastic tables and chairs set up in front, but I just couldn’t trust the food. Despite my concerns about food quality, I love being able to load up on carbs without any guilt on the day before a big race.

Fishing boats docked in the river

Con Ga Catholic Church in central Danang

That evening, I set everything out for the race and forced myself to get to bed early. And then I couldn’t sleep. And then the music started again. I lied in my bed, getting increasingly annoyed with myself for not being able to sleep, and calculated how much rest I would get if I fell asleep “now”. It was torturous.

I was so exhausted when my alarm jolted me out of a sound sleep, but I peeled myself out of bed and looked out the window. People were still partying in the adjacent bar, while runners were beginning to congregate at the starting line. All I wanted to do was sleep a few more hours, but I forged ahead and got myself ready for a 42-kilometer run. 

Starting Line for the Danang International Marathon

Behind the starting line, runners began gathering together. A camera crew awkwardly interviewed some people who looked like foreigners, but I was too focused to talk with anyone. A drone flew overhead and the announcer tried to pump up the crowd. I took the bait and cheered a little, in hopes of finding some energy. I can’t remember ever being this tired before a race. 

The starting gun went off. We started running down a dark and quiet street. I am notorious for starting races too quickly, but this time, I made a particular effort to keep a slow and steady pace.

After only about five miles, my iPod started acting up. I fiddled with it for a while, but I could not get the music to play normally. I had also forgotten my armband, so I was stuck holding it in my hand. I debated whether to just toss it away, but I didn’t want to deal with the expense of buying a new one. I was so frustrated to be running in silence during the one race where I was really relying on music to perk me up.

The course was a giant loop around the city, with one lap for the half-marathon and two laps for the full-marathon. Around miles 11-12, I was again alone with my thoughts. Should I just cut my losses and stop after the first lap? I could feel that my energy was already more than 50% depleted. The thought of another lap was extremely daunting, particularly with one hand occupied by a lifeless iPod, and the other one constantly reaching out for water to stay hydrated.

The sun was beginning to rise and I could already feel the temperature getting warmer. I approached the 13-mile mark and I literally could not decide what to do. I could turn left and pick up a half-marathon medal, or I could keep going straight ahead and torture myself for another two hours.

In a split-second decision, I forged ahead. I have never willingly given up on anything in the past and today would not be the start. I immediately regretted my decision but I knew that I would appreciate the accomplishment in the end.

By this point, the sun was rising and the city took on a completely different life than the first lap. The roads were not closed off for the race, so I found myself sharing the road with drivers and locals who were beginning their day.

The hardest part of the race was going across bridge with a long and stead incline. This landmark also coincided with the point where I usually hit a wall. I forced myself to at least run down the slope on the other side of the bridge, but I couldn’t get much further than that without stopping to walk. With no spectators and no landmarks, it was almost like hiding backstage.

The final few miles were all along the beach. The people and the views inspired me to start running again, but I still couldn’t make it the entire way without stopping for a few more walk breaks. I was surprised that no one was passing me, which signaled that all other runners were also hitting the wall.

People who have never run a marathon before will never understand the feeling of being completely incapable of running. Even knowing that I am on my final couple miles is not enough to get my legs moving. Pulling energy from the depths of my body is something that I both love and hate about marathons.

I finally crossed the finish line with a time of 3:29.  As always, the feeling of accomplishment at the finish line was incredible. With my hard-earned medal hanging around my neck, I stretched a bit on my own and then stopped for a post-race massage. There, I met another runner from the UK who had just completed his first marathon. At the finish line, I always love talking to other runners and sharing in that feeling of satisfaction for having just completed such a big personal challenge. Even after 10+ marathons, it never gets any easier. 

Relieved to be celebrating another marathon in the books

Cheerleaders congratulate the marathon finishers

That afternoon, I lounged around by the pool of my hotel – drinking cinnamon milkshakes and laying in a hammock by the beach. Although I was shuffling around like an elderly person, I was excited to finally enjoy my surroundings. The hard work was complete and it was now time to enjoy the rest of my vacation. 

Enjoying the pool at my hotel

Sunset over the beaches of Danang

Reflecting on the 2015 Da Nang International Marathon, I am most proud of myself for digging deep and not letting the roadblocks overpower me. I thought the race was organized to an international standard, and I enjoyed running in the beach atmosphere (if only I had gotten more sleep the night before)! My love-hate relationship with full marathons continues, but I would absolutely recommend this race to anyone who wants to be tortured in paradise.

Well-deserved hammock time