Words + Photos By: Stephen Turner
“Did you like the fantastic goody bag when you collected your race number?” “Yeah, the best,” said the woman to her friend before the 11th running of the Johnson Arabia sponsored race. Not the normal conversation on a startline, when personal best times are normally traded, or excuses about injuries or disrupted training plans are shared, but typical of the conversation for this well-loved race. A free sports kitbag, shirt, two water bottles, food, gels, skincare and many discounted offers from co-sponsors redeem the entry fee even before the race begins.
Filing into start pens that reflected the expected finish times, the elite elbowed to the front to ensure minimum hassle at the off. There was a short delay while the police approved the final road closure, and then finally the countdown to the hooter sounded for the 1600 runners and cheers erupted from the multitude of spectators at the Dubai Creek Golf and Yacht Club. Waves of runners separated by two-minute intervals ensured safety and a comfortable start along the access road and onto the proper roads.
The course is essentially a figure of eight highlighting the most scenic aspects of the creek. Heading out towards the Aviation Club, the field began to thin. A stationary dragon boat crew at the river were hooting and hollering encouragement to the runners. At the top of the slope to the bridge, a man is already sitting down panting a bit early at 2km. The bridge framed an evocative sunrise as the large ball of fire cut through the humid mist to offer glorious views of the river and the water traffic, reflections dazzling in the low angle sunshine. “Aren’t you hot?” I asked a runner dressed in three layers, including a hoodie. “Well it was cool at this time yesterday morning,” was her response.
Before the start, a group of Harley Davidson bikers had roared up to the race village. I naively assumed they had joined the wrong event. Nope, they were helping as road marshals. Dropping off Al Garhoud Bridge, the “Eye of the Tiger” boomed from one HOG bike to motivate us as we grabbed our first drink. Dubai Creek Park perimeter then led us to the Al Maktoum Bridge, the numerous smiling marshals en route, some clearly families of mum, dad and the kids, cheered us along. Three fit pony-tailed women runners had been chatting together from the start and continued to do so even now. At this point, most blokes were in the grunt and groan stage. How do ladies do it?
After crossing the bridge, the route took us on the north side of the creek past the moored dhows, a mixture of diesel, tyre aromas and cardboard filled the air. Their crews looked on in bemusement. You could only guess their confusion as to what we were doing so early on a Friday morning, but joined in the spirit with “good mornings,” claps and waves to reciprocating runners. The half way stage approached the pedestrian underpass to transfer us to the south side and the restored historic buildings. A welcome drinks stop manned by a local school offered wet sponges to cool heated bodies. Ahh, bliss. Following the water’s edge, we continued along and through the textile souk. At its exit were numerous spectators controlled by two enthusiastic bikers with loud speakers blasting “Move that a** to the beat” – a wonderfully appropriate song.
By now my shirt is soaked in sweat and I’m not the only one, proven by the sweat drops dotting the flagstones past the Ruler’s Court. The sun is now higher in the sky and directly in our faces. I didn’t wear my hat or sunglasses, so I am beginning to squint. I have a pain in the ball of my right foot. My hip hurts. My pace is slower than March’s Emirate Hills Half. It must be owing to this hilly course – the slopes up the bridges! Approaching Al Maktoum Bridge, I spot my marshalling wife. Quick kiss on the cheek and I’m off, the blokes behind queuing for one too.
Two kilometres to go. A voice in my head wonders about upping the pace. Another voice says, “Err… no,” just get to the end in an enjoyable state. The finish line approaches and two friends cheer my name. I try to look fit and cross under the finish arch into a sea of faces, and a Harley biker presents my medal. Now to find the showers and the post-race breakfast, whereupon my friend wins the top raffle prize selected by your race number – two flights to Cape Town. Magic.
Billed as the worlds’ best half marathon, it is certainly the most scenic urban half. Having raced around the world, I can attest it should also claim to be the best organised, too.
Ismail won the men’s race in 1hr 10mins and Anne-Mari for the women’s in 1hr 20mins. Needless to say, a big congratulations to all competitors, Dubai Creek Striders’ organisers and the sponsors alike.
