Shortly after 10 o’clock this morning I stood at the side of a road that usually roars with traffic, but today the road rang with the sound of over twenty thousand runners. Cardiff Half Marathon has become a huge event, filling the city with athletes from all over the world, and a ‘must do’ for thousands of local runners. The course takes in plenty of the city’s highlights, from the castle to the bay, and up round Roath Park. And most of the course is lined with spectators, many looking out for their friends and family members, others just there to enjoy the atmosphere. All of them are out to offer support and encouragement to the runners.
My chosen viewing point today was towards the end of Penarth Road, so on a nice, long straight, where I should be able to spot as many people I knew as possible. I’d got there nice and early, so was in place ready to see the elite group come flying by at their barely comprehensible speed. That opening group was small, but the following groups weren’t far behind, and the numbers of runners was steadily growing and growing. As the groups grew in size to a crowd, I experienced something I’ve never experienced before: the footfall now was so fast and so plentiful that I could feel it through the ground beneath my feet. Their pace as they sped past pulsed through me and took my breath away.
That moment passed as the crowd grew ever larger, too many now to run in unison. The runners filled the road and spread out onto the pavements, and they just kept coming. I saw people I knew, and mostly managed to shout in time to wave and see them respond. Having been on the receiving end of those calls, I know what a boost even a fleeting glimpse can give. Standing there alone today, I realised how that boost works both ways.
After nearly an hour of spectating I had to head home, but there was still no sign of the runners tailing off. I thought I had an idea of what twenty thousand people looks like, but I was clearly way off the mark. I walked home full of awe and pride at what was being achieved out there on the streets of my adopted city. So many people coming together with the same goal, to run 13.1 miles to the best of their ability. For many of those running (though not all), their finishing time will have been a hugely important part of the day. But for most of us watching, it means very little. The bit that matters is seeing all these people entirely focused on one thing, seeing the commitment on their faces as they run past, seeing the emotions play out before us. Knowing that every clap or cheer helps to motivate someone, whether we know them or not. The crowd of individuals becomes a thumping whole.
This is humanity at its best, a coming together of thousands of people to achieve a goal that is at once intensely personal yet also communal. We all benefit from these races, whether we run or not, through the sense of community and camaraderie they bring. They challenge what we think is possible. Nothing changes our own goal posts quite like watching someone else achieve something they weren’t sure they could do.
So will I be signing up next year? Not a chance! I know from experience how badly I cope with being in large crowds of people, and there is no chance of standing at the side in a quiet spot if you’re out there running it. I headed out a few hours later for a solitary run in what had become, by then, a fairly significant downpour. It was just what I needed. But I spent large parts of the run thinking about what I’d witnessed this morning, both on the course and through the tracking system afterwards. It gave me the motivation to keep going, and kept me smiling.
My own half marathon is a few weeks away yet, and will be a very different race: hills, trails, probably plenty of mud, and far fewer people. It will be perfect for me, but I will hold in my mind the memory of all those thousands running together, and let that inspiration help to carry me forward.
I Run Free 