24 May 2008
We’re an informal group of expat runners, of varying ages, females and
males, who get together for morning, afternoon and weekend runs in Phnom
Penh. We haven’t got any rules, membership, fixed routines or schedules. We
share text message savvy thumbs, tolerant spouses, an attraction to long
distance on river hugging trails at the other side of the Tonle Sap, intervals
on a little school track next to Beng Keng Kang market, and tempo runs in
the Olympic Stadium (‘Stade’). We’ve got friends in far away places, from
Jakarta to small town UK, and through one of them – Steve Harknett (what are
you doing in small town UK??) – we started hooking up with the Cambodian
athletes that train in the OS.
A couple of years ago (2003?), through P2H3 contacts, I had participated
in the national marathon championships, maybe 15 runners, starting somewhere
opposite PP airport, taking route nr.4 to Sihanoukville to a turn around
point after maybe 35k, to a finish off the main road towards a golf course.
I wasn’t well prepared, it was like this year’s championships in May, one of
the hottest months of the year, and I DNFed, getting on the back of an
accompanying moto after 32k. The experience left me with an Achilles tendon
injury, a confirmation of my dislike of major roads with traffic, and an
appreciation of the strange mix of seeming chaos and lack of organization
pre-start and superb care and support once on the way, as well as of the
very welcoming attitude of runners and officials.
So when I learned of the championships this year through our running
mates in the Stade and received confirmation on the Thursday that the half
was going to take place on the Saturday, I decided to go. Of the others,
only Emily could join, so off the two of us went on Friday late afternoon,
after much texting and phoning, in the little van of Sros – a Cambodian
veteran who supports the athletes where and when he can and who is a pretty
good runner himself - to Kampot. The combination of a van without much
suspension, a washboard road, and sitting on the floor in the back was
interesting, the hour on the road in the dark rather harrowing. But we
arrived safe and sound, found a guesthouse with the help of Sros’ brother
who lives in Kampot, had dinner on the riverside and bedded early because
the latest news was that we needed to depart for the start at Kep at 4:30
AM...
Emily took care of the breakfast – bananas and buns – and Sros of the
transport, taking his brother along who would drive the van back to Kampot,
being a mobile photographer, changing station and watering hole in one. We
came across the other runners on the back of a little truck, and some others
on moto’s , and all arrived at the same time in Kep. After plenty of
discussion about the location of the start Bunteng, Cambodia’s star runner
(two medals at the 2007 SEA games) directed us back towards Kampot, until we
found some very faded markings on the road from some previous year
indicating the start of the half marathon. A whole bunch of KAAF officials
also arrived, the 15 runners (us included) started to warm up, bibs were
being distributed, and I could say hello to those that I know. It turned out
that three of the ‘old’ H3 crowd are there, two as participants, one as an
official, and all of the ‘current’ Stade crowd, Bunteng, Dara, Sopheak,
Bunthoeun, Sam Oeun, as well as some others.
Very similar to the PP marathon, all eventually came together, we started
a bit later (around 6:15) than announced the day before but who cares, and
as I had expected, the majority of the field took off at a speed that I can
only dream of. Emily and I stayed together for maybe a km, overtaking one
Cambodian, after 500 m, who later on did finish, but who was clearly not a
distance runner. Sros, and two others stayed in sight and my usual toddler
self took over and I speeded up to try and catch up. Right from the start it
felt hot. Emily stayed behind and I eventually did catch up with Sros but by
that time he was on his own, with the others still visible but at least
three hundred meters ahead. I had envisioned staying with him – in the
stadium he is faster than I am – saying that if we could keep them in sight
and not running further away from us we would be able to overtake them in
the last kilometers, but quite soon he lagged behind and before I knew it I
was alone, with the other two runners slowly moving away from me.
Both Sros’ van, as well as various moto’s with KAAF officials offered
water and the last 10 k I had permanent moto support, very much a VIP
treatment. Still, quite hard, to keep the speed up in the heat and on my
own. Judging pace is not my forte so I had no idea how I was doing. A couple
of k before the finish one of the two runners that had been my horizon for
most of the time quit and got on a moto. The other was by now out of sight.
The finish was in front of a school building with plenty kids watching, lots
of time keeping officials, all the others already arrived, a lot of fun to
be in. I arrived 11th in 1:34’ and a half, Emily just four
minutes later, Sros, his one month preparation not enough for this distance,
took 1:45, making for a very disappointed veteran. Bunteng won in 1:15,
Buntoeun, Emily’s most regular Stade training partner had lost second place
to a newcomer in a final sprint (but won the 10k on the following Monday),
Sopheak came in fourth, Dara, fifth.
Running Cambodian roads, In May, as fast as you can, is a somewhat
masochistic enterprise, but the company makes up for the pain, and I know of
little else that bridges cultures so easily as sharing something like this.
