Dusty Roads

Kandahar, Afghanistan

The marathon started at 4 am.  I just couldn't bring myself to do it.  I may have been able to finish, but then again, I may have really hurt myself.  I've run a handful of marathons in my day, but the last time I ran more than ten miles was in the NYC marathon last November.  I briefly considered how ridiculous it would be if I ended up in my own ICU with hyponatremia (low sodium) from sweating in the Kandahar heat.  I'm sure the command would not have laughed.

So instead I woke up at 5am last Sunday to get in line to pay for the half-marathon, which started at 5:30.  A surprising number of people had shown up, perhaps 200, for this Tour de Kandahar.  Races here aren't like other road races.  They don't play the national anthem I realized.  Probably because it would take 30 minutes or more, given that there were probably ten different countries represented on this NATO compound.

The safety briefer made sure we knew that in case of a rocket attack we should seek cover and the race would be canceled.  Also - "the porto-potties are next to the guard towers, " and "follow the guy in front of you, but if you've gone two miles without a water stop, turn around!"  OK then, let's go!

We trekked out to the perimeter road, sucking in dust in the early morning light.  The race was a figure 8 which concluded with the route around the flightline.  As I crossed the leeward side of the flightline, a gunsmoke grey mysterious-looking passenger plane flew just overhead, maybe one hundred feet above, landing gear down.  At one point, about 8 miles into the race, I was stuck behind a column of brightly painted South Asian trucks.  One had eyes painted like a Hindu goddess that kept staring at me.  I kept pace with it for a half mile, feeling delirious and strangely mesmerized by the goddess eyes.  I repeated to myself, your forearms are pistons, your biceps are crankshafts, you legs are the wheels.  Keep rolling, it's almost over, I lied to myself.

I finished the thirteen miles in one hour, forty-five minutes.  Not bad for an old man.  Once showered I plodded back to work to see what surprises lay in store.