I just felt like writing this, mostly for myself, to remember my first ever full marathon, and write it all before I forget it. Feel free to skip, if this is not the type of writing you expect of me. I’ll be back with more history-nerdy stuff next time.
I normally don’t sleep very well the night before a race. This would be my first ever full marathon, and my parents had even arrived from Sweden to see me, so it felt like a big deal. I had made a list in advance of stuff not to forget, put out the running clothes, the number, fixed the chip on the shoe, everything was ready.
At 04:30 the alarm sounded, and I was up. Washed my face, got dressed, all as quietly as possible to not wake anyone up. I put the chalva bars in my pocket, applied sunscreen, and drank a cup of coffee. I didn’t want to bring a bag, so my ID and important documents were all tucked behind my phone in the little pouch on my arm. Since I didn’t want to bring a key, I woke up the kid (who had agreed to this in advance) so he could lock after I left.
So far, so good. I called a taxi with the app. Worked like a charm, a taxi showed up within a few minutes and brought me to the Saker Park. I was there almost half an hour before they opened, so I had some time waiting around. I mostly chatted with my wife (who had woken up when I left and not fallen asleep again) and explaining to her where to find the entrance (because she was planning to get there later, in time to see me arrive at the finish line). And I ate my breakfast.
They opened the gates, and I went straight to the free water bottles. And then the free coffee. And the free toilets. I’ve been to this place many times before. I’ve done Jerusalem marathon almost every year since 2016 – half marathon, 5k, 10k… just not the full marathon. And here I was. With that cool blue number on my belly. Blue, indicating 42.2k. No longer a red, green, or yellow number. The blue one. I went up to the finish line and took a selfie. In about 4 hours, I’ll be running through that finish line!
As the time started to get close to 6:30, I went toward the starting line. I knew the half marathoners are the first to go, at 06:45, and the marathoners at 07:00, but they seemed to let anyone go there, so I figured I might as well wait around there as anywhere else. I walked to the starting point, people walking back and forth talking, some in foreign languages, and there was finally a spot with guards stopping regular people from entering. At that point, they still only let in the half marathoners with the red numbers, so I waited around for some time. Once they let us full marathoners in, I got closer to the starting point, and I’ve been there before. It looked pretty much the same, only I knew this time I’m running twice the distance. Lots of people, lots of energy in the air, a little stage with the mayor of Jerusalem, and a guy introducing the important people, each one saying a few words, yadda yadda yadda. Meanwhile, I took a last selfie of myself in front of the start point and sent it to the family, and then started the live location tracking, so they can see where I am.
And there was the start shot! People started running, but since they only start counting once my chip passes the start line, I took my time to open my phone, and turn on the running app, and then put it back. I started the running mode on my watch, and then that was it – off I go!
The start line is the same for all different races, and the first few hundred meters are the same, so at first I felt I’ve done this before. No big deal. Start off slowly. I always start at a pace that makes me feel “I could do this all day.” But man, the energy, the feeling, it just pushes you forward. I felt as if I was running my normal pace, which is usually below 6 minutes per km, but my app kept telling me that my pace was 5 minutes, 4 and a half. Really? I didn’t even notice. I figured that as long as I have this “I could do this all day”-feel, I might as well keep going. Plus, then I can go a bit slower when it gets hard later on, with a bit less bad conscience.
After a few kilometers, after passing the government buildings and the Supreme Court, we reached the point where the first big difference happened – the full marathon took left into the Givat Ram Hebrew University campus where the half marathon went right onto Bezalel street. This little run around Givat Ram is altogether about 5km, and a few years ago when I ran the 5k, this was the whole race. Sure enough, once we had done the lap and were back around the Saker Park we ran through the finish line for the 5K, and I made a stupid joke of “Yeay, we made it – wait, there’s more?” I think I was the only one laughing.
We kept running, along Saker Park, past the finish line of the half marathoners and 10k, and into the Rechavia neighborhood. This is an area I don’t know very well, so basically I just had to follow wherever people were running. I knew this part would end in the Jabotinsky street which is a horrible uphill road – or downhill. We are running this road twice, once downhill and once uphill, but I had totally forgotten what it is the first time we get there. I think it was at some point here when I took some extra wind in a downhill part and passed the 4:00:00 pacer. I figured he would probably pass me at some point, but he never did.
And then we passed the President’s residence. The guards outside were cheering us on. “Isn’t Herzog coming out to cheer us?” I asked them. “Not yet,” they answered. Oh, well. And then we got to Jabotinsky street. Phew, it was downhill! Which means it will be uphill when I get back here in a few hours, but that will be a later problem. Now I was approaching the 9th kilometer, and my time was looking pretty good. Now onto Keren haYesod and next to the Dan Panorama hotel where my parents were staying, and there they were with cameras and phones cheering me on. I ran toward them with a big smile, trying to look as good as possible for the photos, and then quickly continued along, up past Paris Square and King George Street. I had looked forward to that encounter with my parents. Now I knew I was on my own for a few hours at least, because the next cheering point would be much later.
Running along King George is always fun, because it’s the central city, and I walk here pretty often. Now I’m running in the middle of the street, with people along the side cheering me on. As we reached Yafo street, where the tram tracks, we turned right, into the center of town. Most shops were closed along the way. Not very surprising. And another water station, of course. They seemed to come up all the time, with these nice volunteers handing us bottles. Always nice and refreshing. Why is no one handing me bottles when I run out training in the Jerusalem hiking hills? (Although if someone did, it would be very suspicious).
As we saw the walls of the Old City before us, I imagined how frustrating this must be for people not from Jerusalem. You see them – and then you run away. Then you run next to them – and again away. You don’t actually run into the Old City until much later, at the 25th kilometer or so, but I already knew that. As we reached the end of Yafo Street, while seeing the walls right in front of us, the run took a strong turn to the right onto king Solomon Street, and then King David Street. Right after the King David Hotel and the YMCA it reached a point of a U-turn (of course with a chip-detector making sure everyone passed it) and back up King David street and then to the right into the Yismach Melech neighborhood which is a luxury neighborhood with views of the walls of the Old City. Again, such a stunning and beautiful view running here.
And then we got to the street right along the walls, and into the tunnel. This was something I had never done before, because it’s not part of the half marathon. It’s a car tunnel that goes under a big chunk of Jerusalem, under Zahal Square and leads from the walls to the Bar-Lev road that goes north. I had gone here with a car many times, but never running, and never in the middle of the street. Along the road, in the middle of the tunnel, there was an orchestra playing Hevenu Shalom Alechem and Hava Nagila. Pretty cool, actually.
I was prepared for the worst here, because I knew that this is the long uphill run up to mount Scopus and back down, and it’s a part that the half marathoners just don’t have to go on at all. I had never done this before. My clock and my app buzzed in the tunnel, and I noticed pretty quickly that once out of the tunnel, the GPS was a bit whack, and they both thought I had run half a kilometer more than I had. Oh, well. I kept looking to see if anyone would come from the opposite direction, because this part is basically a huge U-turn deviation, so people further along than me would be running down this hill, but it was empty. Probably a good sign, right? And then I saw him – the leader of the marathon running down the hill, with a car with a camera just in front of him. And then nothing again for the longest time. And then another guy. By the time I reached the top of Mount Scopus, I had seen a handful of elite runners that were leading the race. The uphill wasn’t as bad as I had anticipated, and one part of it was even a pretty steep downhill, so that was a nice surprise. At the top there were more cheerers, orchestras, and dressed up people on stilts. Up here I started to see more and more elite runners coming from the opposite direction. I knew about a professional Swedish runner, Elmina Saksi, who I knew was running this race, and I hoped I would see her coming in the opposite direction. Not only did I see her and cheer her in Swedish, but also another Swedish runner who was wearing the Swedish soccer team jersey. That was fun.
Onto the Mount Scopus campus of the Hebrew university. It looked like we were approaching a huge finish line, but no, that was actually just the entrance to the campus, and our run took us around it. And wow, the view up there! Breathtaking. The village Isawia with its golden ornament on top of its mosque, and the view of the Judean Desert beyond, and behind that the Dead Sea and Jordan… amazing! Other runners took out their phones to take photos, but I wasn’t going to lose precious time. As I went around another curve, I could see Maale Adumim and its water tower in the distance, and then after another turn, there was the view over the Old City. Wow! From this northern view, you actually see all three domes. The golden dome of Islam (Dome of the Rock) the white dome of Judaism (Hurva Synagogue), and the gray dome of Christianity (Church of the Holy Sepulchre). From the southern side, the gray dome is hidden behind buildings, but from this northern point you see them all. (By the way, the classic view that you see on postcards is from the mount of Olives, on the eastern side, and we are not running there at all). Somewhere here, around the 19th kilometer I was forced to stop and walk for a little bit, for the first time. After gaining some strength and taking some deep breaths, I was ready to run again.
Back onto the Bar-Lev street, and now I’m the one running downhill, and I’m seeing the slower ones coming against me. At first, it’s the people that are not that far behind me, but the longer I run, the slower the people I meet. Some seem extremely tired, some are walking. When I was almost at the bottom, I saw an overweight man really trying to run, but he was far behind people who were just walking… I honestly felt sorry for him. Somewhere around here I passed the 21k mark, and thought – yep, by now I would be done if I had done a half marathon. But it was also extremely encouraging, because my time was great – if this had been a half marathon, it might have been a personal record. Can I keep that pace?
As I went through the tunnel again, my phone and watch tried to talk to me again, buzzing and notifying. I ignored them. But sure enough, once out of the tunnel, they were even more out of whack compared to the signs – a full kilometer’s difference. Oh, well. I guess GPS and running in long tunnels just don’t go well together.
And here we go, from the tunnel, time to run into the Old city! I did my best to smile as we ran along the walls toward Jaffa gate, because this is where all the cameras are. We ran in through the opening in the wall next to the gate, and there were people cheering us on along the whole way. I saw people sitting and enjoying a coffee at the Christ Church café, cheering us on. We kept going, into the Armenian quarter, and out through Zion gate. Later I noticed that out of 10 photos they got of me, around 5 of them were here, just outside Zion gate. It’s a good place for photos. I was aware of the lurking cameras and did my best to look good and smile, which wasn’t that hard in this awesome downhill run. This is where you really can gain some time, letting the gravity do some work as you’re running down into Gehenna. Or into the Hinnom Valley.
But as fun as it is running down into a valley, then there’s the ascent running back up again. This is the first part of Hebron Road, going along the Cinematheque, and I did my best to keep a slow and steady pace and smile, because there’s a walking bridge above us, and I know there’s often cameras there. Once “up” on plain ground, we were waved to leave Hebron road to the right, onto Remez street, where the old train station from the 1890s is standing (now converted into a restaurant and entertainment venue). People far ahead of me should be running here too, in the opposite direction, but nothing… either no one is that far ahead, or I just happened to hit that 30 minute break between the first and the second runner…
Now I was in a familiar part of Jerusalem again, running up along another part of King David Street, next to the lion fountain, and then a left turn just before we got to the Montefiore windmill. And now we are back on Jabotinsky street, and this time it’s the opposite direction, so this time it’s the uphill battle! One of the worst uphill parts probably, except the dreadful kovshei katamon just near the end. I kept it slow and steady, and reminded myself that I’m allowed to run slowly, because I’m earning it back when I run downhill. We are back in the Rechavia neighborhood, which is still just a maze to me. We might have run past the Jerusalem theater and the Islamic art museum this time, I don’t remember, because we’re running around in Rechavia and Katamon areas about three different times. This time we did not run past the president’s residence anyway, and I do remember that it was somewhere along this part of the course that a lady stood and offered hot espressos to the runners. Wow! She only had two cups left when I arrived, but don’t mind if I do! Hot and nice espresso, and some caffeine to get the blood flowing. Awesome! I hope that doesn’t count as doping…
Eventually, the roads took us into the German colony neighborhood and onto Emek Refaim street, named by the German Templars in the 1800s. Emek Refaim is a busy street, and now it was filled with people cheering along the way. Again, kinda felt like a rock star, and did my best to give high-fives to all the cute kids standing along the road with their hands out. One woman held up a sign that said “You’re running better than our government.” When we reached the crossing with Pierre Koenig street, we took a sharp, almost 180-degree turn to the left onto the railroad. See, there’s a huge chunk of railroad from the old train station all the way to Malcha that is not being used, and it was converted into a very long and nice park that’s perfect for long walks, runs, and bike rides, especially since they purposefully planned the railroad on the flattest part of Jerusalem. I actually run on it myself pretty often, so I’m feeling at home here.
Somewhere along this railroad, we reached the 30km mark, and a guy stood there cheering us on, saying, “Only 12.2 kilometers left, you’re doing great!” Thanks, that’s… encouraging! When we reached the crossing of the railroad with Bethlehem road, our way led us left, onto Bethlehem road. There are orchestras and DJs and music and stuff in all kinds of places along the way, but specifically here some sort of extremely vulgar rap music was playing, giving some very specific details about specific sexual acts. Do the people who choose these tracks not speak English, or do they just not care? Oh, well, whatever.
I kept running along Bethlehem road, and then onto Remez, circling the old train station again, running back the way I had run before. This time I did see people on the other side, the people that were pretty far behind me. And then onto the continuation of Hebron road. Hebron road is a wide and nice road to run on, and only slightly downhill. And then I arrived at the Yanovsky crossing, where I know I first have to run to the left along Yanovsky, and then a U-turn to get back to the crossing. Yanovsky goes along the beautiful southern promenade with an amazing view of the Old City from the opposite, southen side.
A friend had already agreed with me in advance to meet me here to give me a cup of coffee. I had already gotten an espresso earlier, but we didn’t know that in advance. I saw him and took the coffee and thanked him and kept going.
Then I reached the Southern Haas promenade. This is the southern view of the Old City – which is really the only view where you can clearly see the Western Wall and the City of David. So beautiful! Whenever king David or Abraham came to Jerusalem they came from the south, so this place would have been the first glimpse they saw of the city. I reached another water station (there were lots of them along the road, I haven’t mentioned them all), and then the U-turn with the chip sensor, making sure no one takes any short cuts. Time to run back along Yanovsky to the crossing with Hebron road. And there I reached kilometer 34. One week earlier, I had done my last training run, and it was exactly 34km. From now on, I’m running further than I ever have before, and my body is officially in unchartered territory.
When I reached the crossing with Hebron road, I took left onto Hebron road again, knowing that this part would once again end in a U-turn (so we don’t continue to Hebron…) and I would have to run back to this same crossing again. I had seen on the maps that just at the end of this part, there would be a “food and fruit station” but I had no idea what that means. There was no such station on the half marathon. And wow, it was a long way running this, knowing I had to go it all back – I think we passed the white pedestrian bridge, and the U-turn came shortly after it, but my mind may play tricks on me. The fruit station was a spot with a volunteer holding out a piece of banana and a piece of orange to the runners. “Take your pick, orange or banana, or… both… ok, both is also ok,” she said in English as I swished by and took both, and then passed the U-turn with the chip sensor. Note to self – always take the banana, never the orange. A piece of the orange got stuck between my teeth, and I probably accidentally slowed down while trying to get it out using my tongue. And also that shirtless runner passed me. I can’t let that happen. I need to pass him again. No, no pride issue, I just don’t want to have to look at his sweaty “plumber’s smile” while running.
We are back again to the Yanovsky crossing for the third and last time, and this time we go left onto Yehuda street, which is downhill, and using the gravitational pull of the earth, I’m able to leave the shirtless guy behind me. Here again, there are lots of cheering people, entertainment and music, dressed up people on stilts and what have you. Yehuda Street ends on Pierre Koenig Street, and as we come down on Pierre Koenig I glance sideways. Lots of runners that are pretty far behind me coming down from Emek Refaim running onto the train tracks. I keep going onto Kovshei Katamon. It’s not very bad yet, but I know this is going to be one of the hardest uphill parts. Before long we get more water, and people are along cheering, but this is the part when I actually stop and walk for a while. This uphill battle is seriously brutal! It’s not as long or as far as the Mount Scopus, but it’s steep! And once you’re up, you’re in Rechavia again. Or maybe it’s Katamon. I don’t even know, this part of Jerusalem has always been a riddle and a maze to me. Half marathoners go to the right and straight to Saker park, but we have to take left and run around some more. Makes sense, we have a few kilometers left. But now there’s not much more left. I hear people cheering, “not much left now, you’re close to the end, come on!”
But this is the danger, and what I did wrong on a previous half marathon I once did. I got excited when I had one kilometer left and started to give it my all and run as fast as possible – and then my energy ran out, and I actually had to stop and walk. Walking, when I had less than a kilometer left! Not going to do that again, but neither will I slow down. Just keep going in this fixed pace, slow and steady, get the feeling of “I could do this all day” and I’ll be fine. Legs hurt a lot by now, and I even feel my left knee protesting. I haven’t had issues with that knee since 2016! But my left hip that I had trouble with just a few months ago is saying nothing. The body is weird. The maze between buildings ended and we are out in an open landscape, and I can see the Saker park. We pass by the main street on which the finish line for the half marathon and the 10k is. Not going there. Not our finish line.
I still have a kilometer left, and indeed, there’s some more road to run, a U-turn to make, and then get onto a walking path that’s going inside the Saker park, because the finish line is right there, in the middle of it all. Just as I pass the U-turn and leave the last paved car road, I see the sign for 41 km. Just 1.2km left. I glance at my clock. 3:50. Really?? During training, my normal pace is around 6 minutes per km, meaning that 10k takes me about an hour. That means that 40k should take 4 hours, and 42.2 a bit more. I wished for a time below 4 hours, but I didn’t think I’d get it. I said I just want to run, finish well, and get less than 4:20. But here I am, about one km left, and 10 minutes to go. The sub-4 hours is actually within grasp! Again, I have to force myself not to get too excited. Don’t run extra fast and deplete the energy, it’s just going to exhaust you and force you to walk, and then you can wave goodbye to that sub 4-hour result. Just keep going steady and easy, ignore the leg pain and just keep going.
As the walking paths inside the Saker park take me closer and closer to the finish line, I see other runners with 10K or half marathon numbers and a medal around their neck walking around eating ice cream while looking at me. Nice. And then I reach that pedestrian tunnel, and then into the blue carpet leading up to the finish line inside the park. People are standing and cheering along the sides. I look around for my dad and wife, but can’t see them anywhere. I’ll find them, eventually. Now I just need to make sure to get a good time. I see the clock above the finish line – 03:57:30. It’s still far away, but it’s within reach. I could actually make it before it hits 4 hours. In fact, it even looks like I’m definitely going to. Keep going steady until… now! Time to push as hard as I can – and I raise my hands in victory as I run through the finish line at 03:58:38 and the announcer shouts my name.
A volunteer stands with a medal in front of me. I try to grab it, but no, he is apparently supposed to put it around my neck. Another volunteer hands me a bottle of water. I quickly move out of the way, because there are more runners arriving. I hear someone shouting my name, and I look to the side. That’s my dad standing next to my wife. I run up to them. “You did it below 4 hours!” my wife exclaims. I know I did. I just barely dare to even believe it still. I reach for my watch and phone to turn off the apps. Run is over. My marathon is complete. This was amazing!
Now I’m just wondering when I can do it again.
Tuvia Pollack - writer 