Jay Nunn: The Last Marathon
Is running the Pyongyang Marathon the same as running a marathon anywhere else?
The 2017 Pyongyang (Half) Marathon, officially the “28th Mangyongdae Prize International Marathon,” had the most interesting start/finish line of any race I have ever run. It started in a packed Kim Il-Sung Stadium in front of 50,000 cheering spectators, went onto the streets of Pyongyang, and finished back inside the stadium where the last quarter mile of the race was a lap around the track while a soccer game was being played. It was surreal.
But the race was clearly organized by people who aren’t runners, and the purpose of the day was first and foremost to honor the State and less about providing optimal race logistics for the amateur runners. For example, having the runners lined up in formation for the opening ceremony to listen to the speeches means that there’s no time or space for warming up.
There were some minor quirks with the event, too, like the water stations were infrequent and inadequately stocked along the course. There was one restroom a block away from the course on the second floor of a restaurant. The cutoff time for marathoners was 4 hours, at which point they closed the gates to the stadium and finish line…
I don’t mean to disparage the race at all, because, to be fair, there are generally some logistical quirks like this with all races, especially some of the small local or regional events in the US, but this one just felt like it was organized by people who had only read what was needed to host a race but who had never actually participated in one. And that just made it even more interesting!
Were you ever worried for your safety? Was the experience sort of eye-opening in any meaningful way?
The only time I truly felt uneasy was in taking a trip down to the DMZ, the heavily guarded border between North and South Korea. It was a couple of hours by bus from Pyongyang through some really depressed and barren farmland, and there was a huge military presence all along the road. Lots of checkpoints, and even the farmers we passed in their sad fields had soldiers standing watch. That road was one of the few places during our trip that taking pictures was absolutely forbidden, and I was definitely more on edge than any other time while I was there. This was April 2017, and we knew Otto Warmbier had been imprisoned a for stealing a poster from his hotel (but before he was returned the US in a coma and died), so the feeling that things could go sideways for anyone visiting, whether due to a real or perceived or fabricated offense, was always present.
The part of the trip that still resonates deeply with me was never quite knowing where on the reality spectrum I was during my time in the country. There were many times and places like the War Museum where it was incredibly obvious that their propaganda machine was in full and glorious effect, but there were a lot of times I wasn’t so sure. Were the tour guides, who I genuinely liked, telling me real stories about their families and what it was like growing up in Pyongyang? When they glossed over the harsh realities of life outside of the capital, is that what they had been taught and genuinely believed to be true, or were they just towing the party line? Were the well stocked restaurants and bars just a facade for tourists, a perk for party elites, or were they actually indicative of life in the city for their version of a middle class? Skepticism was my default reaction to most things, but a lot of the time I truly could not tell how much to believe and it was quite disorienting.
Why do you think sports (and athletes) are highly valued over there?
The North Koreans are definitely a proud sporting people and funnel a disproportionate amount of money into development programs for athletes. I think they view sports in general and international competitions specifically as a way for themselves to actually participate in global affairs and maintain some relevance on a global stage. As part of our tour, we visited the youth development school for their soccer teams, and they were very proud showing off their very nice facilities. They have a respectable distance running program and had women place 10th and 11th in the marathon at the Rio Olympics in 2016, so this marathon, too, was a way for them to highlight their runners. There were a few international professional runners in the field competing against the North Koreans, probably second tier African runners who would give the locals just enough of a challenge without threatening to win, so they definitely put on a good show for the hometown fans. I joke that my 12th place finish in the amateur division in the half marathon made me the 12th best runner in the world given that the running credentials of the participants were likely embellished a bit for their local news!
Were there a lot of Americans or other foreigners in the race with you?
There were 1,500 or so international amateur runners split among the marathon, half marathon, and 10k races, and there were definitely some Americans in the field! In a very unscientific survey of the people I met, Europeans were a majority of the participants with strong representation by the Dutch, Norwegians, and Danish. A handful of South Americans and East/South Asians, and a respectable number of Canadians and Americans. 2017 was one of the first years the race was open to foreign amateur runners, but the last, unfortunately, that Americans have been able to attend. I think our travel ban is still in effect for the foreseeable future, which is unfortunate but probably prudent…
I’ve enjoyed keeping in touch with a few of the people I met on the trip, and I guess it makes sense in retrospect, but the people seeking out North Korea to run a marathon are probably going to have a fair amount in common with each other and generally get along pretty well.
How did the public (North Korean citizens) react on the street? Were they celebrating the runners on the sidelines?
The crowds were fantastic! The race was on a Sunday, which is the one day off per week everyone gets, so a lot of people came out to see the spectacle. There were 50,000 people inside the stadium to watch the start and finish of the race (I think they were mostly there for the soccer game, but nevermind…), and a lot of people out along the streets as well. They were incredibly friendly and cheered and waved and seemed to be enjoying themselves. The kids lined up for high fives and occasionally one would run along the sidewalk to race me. It was a lot of fun.
How did you train for it? Did you have to sort of tweak your training regimen to accommodate the strictness enforced by the North Korean government?
Luckily, with training for half marathons and marathons, once you get to race week all of the ‘real’ training is done and it’s just a matter of getting rested and settled for race day, so I was thankfully able to log all my miles in training before arriving in North Korea. However, trying to get prepared and settled in the hours leading up to the race was a very different story. A lot of runners I know (especially me) are borderline superstitious about their pre-race regimen, from what they eat, to their shakeout runs and stretching, to music they listen to.
In Pyongyang, all of that was out the window. Our tour group’s movements were pretty tightly controlled and we couldn’t just go for an unchaperoned shakeout jog or anything, and there was very little choice regarding meals. We generally had to eat whatever the restaurant we were taken to served, and if you didn’t like what they were serving, other options were hard to come by. I happen to love Korean food and we ate well the entire trip — it definitely seemed to be a way for them to show off their “bounty’ to the visitors — so the impact for me was pretty minimal, but for anyone unfamiliar with the cuisine or who just needed to eat something else, it would have been pretty disruptive.
And in the hour or so right before the race started we didn’t really have any time to stretch or jog or get extra water or anything. The opening ceremony was very tightly orchestrated to have the runners in certain places at all moments leading up to the start. It took a little while once the race started to get warmed up and into a good rhythm, but it was worth it to have such an interesting start and finish!
How long have you been running? What does running mean to you? When and where was your first marathon?
I had some minor successes running track in high school but was more passionate about soccer, so that became my focus as I was going into college. Running turned into a tool for staying in shape, so when I “retired” from soccer after my sophomore year running just kinda fell by the wayside. I didn’t really pick it up again until years later when I moved to LA and started meeting up with a friend on weekends to catch up over a run and breakfast.
Now running is a truly foundational part of my life. It’s a social outlet, a meditation practice, a way to explore, and a way to stay in shape. I have made some lifelong friends through this community, and I feel like I’m generally a more centered, less stressed version of myself when I am running regularly, even just a little bit. I plan on having this as a part of my life well into old age.
My first marathon was Los Angeles in 2009, and it was absolutely miserable. I hated it so much that it took me five years to run another one. Eventually I learned how to properly train for a marathon and now race day is usually a relatively pain-free and enjoyable affair. But I definitely learned the consequences of improper training the hard way…
Tell me about your most exciting, grueling, and adventurous run.
The Speed Project is a 340-mile relay race from Los Angeles to Las Vegas. It starts at the Santa Monica pier, goes through some wild places in middle-of-nowhere, California, into Death Valley, and ultimately ends at the “Welcome to Las Vegas” sign. I ran in 2018 with my run club, Electric Athletic Club. We had a team of 10 runners and finished in a little over 41 hours. I’ve done some other relays like Ragnar and Hood to Coast, but those are typically 200-ish mile relays and maybe take 24 hours or so to complete. The second day of The Speed Project is where nerves start to fray and the race gets real. There are exhausted runners who are sleep deprived and who have spent the last day packed into an RV together, and now they’re in Death Valley and it’s 100 degrees and there are still 100 miles to go. I don’t think I’ve ever run through the full range of human emotions so quickly, from despair to ecstasy to love to hate and everything in between. It is a humbling but ultimately empowering experience, and I can’t recommend it enough! It is the epitome of type-2 fun.
Do you run marathons so you can travel, or do you travel so you can run? How did the pandemic affect your running life?
Great questions! Running and travel scratch different itches for me, and for the most part they’re really independent tracks. Most of my travel doesn’t have a running focus and most of my running doesn’t have a travel focus, but occasionally those tracks come together and I do love the combination. When I travel, running is a great way to explore a city, get out into nature, or meet new people. Sampling the run club scene in a new city, for example, is a great way to make some fast friends. And occasionally I absolutely will use running as an excuse to travel! North Korea was certainly an example of that, but I’ve also taken trips to run races in Key West, New York, Vancouver, and a few other places. I really enjoy trips like these where there’s a keystone event to focus on.
I had qualified for the 2020 Boston Marathon and was in the later stages of training for that race — which I was incredibly excited for — when pandemic lockdowns started and all of the big running events, including Boston, were cancelled. I was forced to take some time this year to reconnect with running in a way that wasn’t specifically goal oriented, which I now recognize as something I really needed. For months I didn’t run if I didn’t feel like running and I rested to let some nagging injuries heal, and it was ultimately a beneficial break for me both mentally and physically. I am still a little disappointed about Boston, but I’ll get there eventually.
What’s next for you!?
My training for the 2021 Chicago Marathon is getting underway, and I’m really excited to be starting a new training block! After the last year with no real goals and resetting my relationship with running, I’m really looking forward to Chicago.
I’m also thinking a lot these days about how to use my running for good. The current model of running activism is generally raising money from friends and family to donate to charity, and while I have a lot of respect for that model and the impact it has, I want to find a way to donate my running itself to causes I believe in. Endurance athletes have a super power and there must be ways for that super power to be used by organizations fighting climate change, deforestation, human trafficking, fascism, pandemics, etc. I clearly have more questions than answers at this point, but this is where my head and heart are focused and I’d love to connect with people who have some ideas about or interest in figuring this out!
