By Jonathan Dunn
I’ve concluded that Laos is a fantastic place to visit, even though I was there for only two days and did not leave the capital Vientiane, so missed much of what the country has to offer. The contrast with Dhaka could not be greater. Vientiane is a city of around half a million, dead quiet (what a joy) with no air pollution to speak of, full of sidewalk cafes with excellent food and shops selling Lao handicrafts, and host to the brewery producing the highly respectable Beer Lao, which is easy to enjoy when sitting at ‘The Deck’ on the north bank of the Mekong River. Aside from enjoying the city’s pleasures, I received royal treatment from my hosts Mathilde, Stefan, Christoph and Leonard. My first morning there, I emerged from my room to find the table spread with a breakfast of fresh mango, passion fruit and cantaloupe; smoked salmon and ham; fresh, warm baguettes and cinnamon rolls; and fresh coffee and juice. Life does not get much better.
I took advantage of my visit to Laos to pursue my textile hobby. Mathilde and Stefan found a number of workshops that are busily reviving the Lao silk industry and weaving culture, from the planting of mulberry trees and the harvesting of silk from cocoons right through the production and dyeing of silk yarns and weaving of traditional and modern textiles. Some weaving takes place in the workshops themselves, though the majority is farmed out to weavers at hundreds of looms in villages throughout northern Laos. I came away with something old and something new. The textile places I liked most were Mai Savanh Lao—run by a couple from Alsace focused on rebuilding the whole chain of Lao silk textile production—and Carol Cassidy’s Lao Textiles, where modern textiles are woven using Lao motifs.
After two relaxing days in Vientiane, on the second of which I did my last 2-mile training run, Stefan drove me to Khon Kaen. As we entered Khon Kaen from the north, we made our way to the Golden Jubilee Hall on the campus of Khon Kaen University (KKU), where I picked up my race pack. Stefan dropped me at my hotel downtown and began his journey north for a bit of Home Depot style shopping in Udon Thani before reaching home that evening. I spent the remainder of my pre-race day eating a large late lunch with Robin Martz (and her unbelievably cute daughter Caroline), also there from Dhaka to run the marathon, and then a more moderate dinner with Robin, Lauren Moriarty, and Lauren’s friends Ismail and Nadia Asmal, in from Bangkok and Hanoi, respectively. Lauren and Nadia were there to run the half marathon, and Ismail came along as the support crew.
Prior to getting on hotel shuttle to go to the start (3:30AM)
I managed to sleep about 4 hours and then rose to my usual routine of instant oatmeal and a banana before a long run. Robin and I met in the lobby at 0330 to catch the hotel shuttle to the start/finish line adjacent to the Golden Jubilee Hall at KKU. In the lobby we met up with a Malaysian who runs marathons without shoes! He told me later that he finished in 4h 5m, and I would say he has at least a decade on me.
I was ready for the race to start at 0430. That stage was exciting, perhaps because I did not know what lay ahead. A large number of Kenyan runners were milling about and warming up, one of whom completed the race in 2h 13m. I am not sure what one can say to put that time in perspective.
Robin and I started the race together and kept a decent early pace—at least I thought so as a first-time marathoner—up through mile 10, at which point Robin picked up her pace. At the course’s 21-kilometer sign, after running for about 2h 15m, I became grateful that I had come to my senses a week earlier and abandoned my fantasy of completing the marathon in 4 hours—if I had run at that pace up to the halfway point I doubt I could have finished the race. Carrying my own bottle of half-strength electric blue Gatorade, I could sip whenever I wanted rather than waiting for the water and hydration stands set up along the course, though I used them regularly after the halfway point.
Since I was feeling pretty good at mile 13, I picked up my pace. My GPS showed I ran at an average pace of about 9.5 minutes for the next five miles. School kids, bands, and neighborhood groups—out of bed before dawn to cheer on a bunch of runners they don’t even know—entertained us during this stretch with dancing and music. The support teams thinned out as we headed out of town. Perhaps my favorite was a group standing along a lonely stretch of highway, gongs and brass raising a racket while cows grazed just behind them in the early morning sun.
Things went smoothly up to around mile 18, when I started to wonder what I was doing on this cool, beautiful Sunday morning in northeast Thailand. Passing the 20-mile marker made this the longest run of my life. Unfortunately, I also knew I was about to head up a long, gradual hill to the northern gate of KKU after what had been a flat course up to then.
I can hardly describe miles 22 through 24. I kept going only by talking to myself (“Yes, we can”). My pace dropped off to something well over 10 minutes per mile as I dragged myself up a 2.5-mile uphill stretch. I have done some mountain climbing, and that stretch felt like climbing a steep snow slope with a 15-kilogram backpack at altitudes above 5,000 meters. Each step was a struggle as my run became a primarily mental exercise. As I crested the hill and entered the flat spot leading to the KKU Gate, I suddenly knew I would be able to finish.
The last 2+ miles of the Khon Kaen course wind downhill gently along a shaded road through the KKU campus. Large groups of students, with another band playing music with gusto, cheered us on along that stretch. In normal circumstances that tarmac would be a pleasant place to run, but I was not soaking in the beauty of the campus at that point. I was especially grateful to my Gatorade security blanket because I could not bear the thought of breaking my pace to drink from a water station.
When Stefan and I had driven into the KKU campus the day before, we happened to drive down the last 2 miles of the racecourse. As I rounded what I knew would be the last turn before seeing the gates around another corner, I saw Robin ahead and heard her cheering me on. I have rarely been happier to see anyone in my life. Just before I crossed the finish line I glanced up to see a time of 4:31:11 on the clock above the lane next to me. I went immediately to the timing chip return station to collect my medal, at which point I burst into tears. I doubt anyone can accurately describe the emotional rush after that first finish—it would be like putting words to the experience of driving through Dhaka. You have be there to believe it.
Post-marathon and back at the hotel (9:30AM)
After eating a large and healthful breakfast with Robin around 1030, I took a break in my room. Soon food beckoned from the shopping mall across the street, where I gorged on fried pork dumplings, a chocolate-filled waffle, and a Dairy Queen ice cream cone. ** I then had the best full-body massage of my life. After I enjoyed some blueberry cheesecake and a café latte, Robin and I joined up for the ride to the airport. We topped off the evening with delicious cheeseburgers, cold beer, and chocolate milkshakes at 2200 in the Novotel at Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi airport.
Post-post marathon bliss** Robin asked me later if I had my cone dipped in chocolate. I responded that I am of two minds about the dip. It tastes good, but it interferes with that indescribable combination of melting DQ vanilla ice cream mixing with a crunchy light cone, so no dip for me.
