Once upon a time, there used to be something called the Lyon Marathon. I used to think about running it, but usually just on the day that all the barricades, runners and spectators interfered with a particular Sunday-morning bike ride each spring.

Then one spring, in a swirl of controversy just weeks before event, the race was unceremoniously cancelled. Some blamed the financial downturn; others blamed the Lyon Urban Trail, a devilishly fun (and heavily sponsored) endurance event that appeared rather suddenly on the local spring running calendar a few years ago; others blamed city politics in ways I didn't understand.

In 2010 it reappeared in the form of something called Run In Lyon—no, I have no idea why they insist on using clumsy clusters of English words to name these events—a 10K, half marathon and marathon to take place each fall, half a year away from the Lyon Urban Trail and right in the middle of the active fall running season.

As you can see from the photo above, this is an enormous event. When I heard I would be sharing the route with 15,000 of my closest friends—and that all three races would have a common start—I instantly feared for my life. As you may have heard, sometimes things in France aren't very, well, how to put it...organized? Planned? Remotely safe? I had visions of tramplings to make elephants proud.

To my great surprise and delight, the entire event ran as smoothly as anything I've been involved with here in l'Hexagone It was, in fact, so entirely corporatized ("DRINK POWERADE!!!") that for much of the morning I felt a little bit like an endurance rat in a very large cage—which was just fine by me.

The start—which took place under perfect meteorological conditions—was incredibly well-regulated. At the time of registration, each runner was asked for a projected time, based upon which he or she was issued a plastic bracelet good for access into one of several starting areas: idea being, of course, to keep slower runners from impeding the progress of faster runners, not to mention risking their own injury or death. While there is no way to keep people from lying about their potential time—and there certainly were a few knuckleheads that did just that, obstructing the massive flow of humanity like so many sticks in a mudslide—access to the different starting areas was strictly controlled. Of course, this meant that we were all essentially locked in tightly-packed cages with one tiny entrance/exit for ten or fifteen minutes before the race began (see photo); however, aside from making an appetizing terrorist target it really wasn't that bad.

HPIM3372.JPGI AM NOT AN ANIMAL!!!

I was in the second block—reserved for 10K runners looking to break 40 minutes, half marathoners finishing between 1:25 and 1:35 and marathoners targeting three hours—and I have to admit that I got out with a minimum amount of slowdown. The flow remained tightly packed for more than five kilometers as the route snaked along both sides of the Saône, affording wonderful views of the Lyon cityscape. Next, we crossed back into downtown before heading north along the new pedestrian path on the east bank of the Rhône and towards the most excellent and lovely Parc de la Tête d'Or, which is incidentally the place where I do the bulk of my training. Piece of cake, right?

Not really. I hit the 10K mark in about 44 minutes, a good bit short of my target of 42:30: apparently the flow hadn't been moving as fast I'd thought it had been (I think I did some bad kilometer-math along the way, but never mind that). Time to pick up the pace...but it was almost impossible, because every time I got up a bit of momentum the course took a 180-degree turn! In fact, the race planners turned a park with a circumference of about four kilometers and made it into seven or eight kilometers of race course that necessitated a series of decelerations, turns and accelerations that hurt more and more as the race wore on. By the time we got out of the park and headed back downtown for the last few kilometers, I was exhausted from trying to make up time, blistered from all the sharp turns and not feeling especially perky.

When I passed the three-hour marathon pace runner (cool idea, by the way: pay an experienced runner to maintain a landmark pace and have him wear a flag advertising said time) with less than 2K to go I thought I still had a chance, but it was not to be: after genuinely suffering through the accordion-esque finish downtown (more turns!) and finally getting back to the start/finish at the landmark Place Bellecour, 1:30 was about 20 seconds beyond my reach. Oh well, maybe next time...but I still managed to finish among the top 250 out of 5000+ half marathoners, which tells me that I wasn't the only one disappointed with his or her chrono.

Overall, it was a wonderful event with impeccable organization. I have two principal complaints, however (I know, I've always got something whine about...):

  • First, the aforementioned maze-like aspect of the route is NOT a good way to entice runners attempting to run good times. Nor is it very fun for said runners. The winners of each of the three races all had times well below elite standards for such a flat course, and I'm sure this is why. I realize the bulk of the 15,000 participants aren't that concerned about this sort of thing, but still.
  • Second, not to go all écolo or anything, but what was the story with the water stops? Every runner had to take an entire 20-oz. plastic bottle at every stop! Sure, there were recycling bins all over the place to throw the bottles into afterwards, but no one drinks that much water while they're running, do they? I never even finish the little plastic cup that you get in most races. I would hazard a guess that 80% or more of that fresh drinking water was wasted, not to mention tens of thousands of plastic bottles. At this point in human history it's frustrating to have to point out that neither fresh water nor plastic bottles are something of which we have an endless supply.

Anyway, the big question: next year? Maybe. Perhaps the marathon, for which I would be much less concerned about time lost arcing around tight corners while dodging fellow runners. As much fun as it all was, if the course is the same next year I probably won't do the 13.1 again. If, however, you're not too worried about finishing time and want a great way to see Lyon on foot in a superbly organized event (not to mention great bang for your buck: quality Addidas running shirt, electronic timing and generous food/drink for €26!!), this is the race for you: 07 October 2012 will come around in no time...

HPIM3364.JPGLyon's signature statue of Louis XIV on Place Bellecour had a lot of company last Sunday, as the open square served as the headquarters of Run In Lyon 2012.