This weekend was dedicated to running. That might be a stretch of the truth, but running was certainly the excuse I used to take a train to Istanbul Friday night. The Istanbul Marathon was Sunday, and while I only ran the 15K, it was still the main incentive behind the trip.
I arrived in Istanbul around midnight Friday only to check into my hostel and sleep for seven hours. The hostel was actually a great deal, only 16 lira and two minutes from Istiklaal Street, the most lively street in the city. After a free breakfast at the hostel, a big group of us hunted down the shuttle that was to take us to the marathon expo, where we had to pick up our race numbers and goody bags. There was free food and entertainment (including dancing girls and a fire act), but it was really all about grabbing the goods and moving on to the big and beautiful city. I had already been to Istanbul once, so I skipped the Blue Mosque and the Haggia Sophia in favor of some leisurely café time with Steve, Aisha, Emma, Charlie, and Rom, a slightly imbalance former CSI who now teaches in Istanbul. We drank tea and chatted, then found a great little Thai noodle place, the likes of which are rarely seen in Ankara. By the time we finished, the weather had turned cold and cloudy, so a couple of us ran back to the hostel
for some sweaters and somehow lost the others in the process. We did, however, do an excellent job of exploring the city by foot. I have no idea how long we walked for, but we went all the way down Istiklaal to the Bospherous, across the bridge and into the Spice Bazaar, where giant crowds speaking every language imaginable were bartering for everything from actual spices to Turkish delight and tea sets. Miraculously, I didn’t buy anything, something I severely doubt will happen the next time I visit. I find that there are two ways to go when in a bazaar: either buy and bargain with ferocity (something I can do quite successfully but find extremely exhausting), or soak in the atmosphere. I chose the later, and after trying some excellent free samples of cheese and rose-flavored Turkish delight, we wove our way back out to the street and meandered back across the bridge. I should mention that the bridge is always covered in men with fishing lines drooping down into the Bospherous, and the fish they catch often seems to go directly to the grills of the vendors selling fish sandwiches next to the water. We wandered past the fishermen, back up a very large hill, and onto Istiklaal for some dinner. We hadn’t actually eaten at the Thai noodle place with the others, so we bought some pre-race food there and followed it up with some delicious desserts at a four-story restaurant full of temptation. I chose a baked rice pudding, a traditional and very delicious Turkish dessert, which has me salivating even as I write this. With our early morning in mind, we went to bed shortly thereafter.
Sunday was race day. I woke up at 6:25 to quickly get dressed and catch the shuttle to the starting line with Anika, Elena, and Charlie. It turned out that there was absolutely no need for us to have caught the earlier shuttle, for once we got to the starting line there was nothing for us to do but huddle under an underpass and hide from the rainy morning. I felt like a cold, wet hobo for nearly an hour. Steve and Rom were the only ones among us who were running the full marathon, and the rest of us were divided between the 15K and an 8K fun run. Steve had only trained sparingly, and Rom hadn’t trained at all. Needless to say, they were nervous. I was not. I did a little warm-up, took a few trips to the port-a-potties, and off we went, across the only bridge that goes from Asia to Europe on the only day it is open to pedestrians.
The view was beautiful, with the clouds adjusting themselves over the water and the Blue Mosque in the distance. The entire run was fairly amazing really. I’m beginning to think that the best way to get to know a city is to run a race through it. There weren’t many spectators and the aid stations left something to be desired, but for a 15K it worked well enough.
I finished at 1:16 (which earned me place number 38 among the women entrants) and met Joe, Aisha, and Charlie at the finish line. We waited around for the first marathoners to finish, which didn’t take too long at all, being as they finished in a little over two hours. They were all Ethiopian and absolutely amazing.
Feeling a little envious, we all walked over to a pastry shop for some post-race rewards. As we finished, it began raining again. Joe and Aisha needed to wait for Steve and Rom to finish, so we parted ways. However, all of the public transportation was closed for the race, and the bridge was closed to cars, so I had the privilege of walking back to the hostel in the rain while tired and hungry (I had no money) and wearing running clothes. I’m sure I quite the sight, especially once I put on the yellow poncho I was given at the finish line. My shower felt divine.
Once clean and dry, we met Maggie, Christa, and Natalie at a bar. They had only ran the 8K and were enjoying a round of mojitos from which I abstained. Somehow alcohol doesn’t sound so great after running nine miles. Their company was entertaining enough, and eventually the more sober among us peeled away in search of coffee and food. I shared a special potato dish with Natalie that is basically a form of Turkish fast food. The potato innards are mashed up and mixed with butter and cheese, put back in the skins, and topped off with the goodies of your choosing so that the entire dish looks like a massive pile of goo. I have no idea what Natalie chose for toppings, but it was good. By the time we finished and found Christa and Maggie again they were in a very happy place. I think they were at that bar for nearly five hours total. We all had to go back to Ankara that night, however, and Christa had bus reservations with Joe and Aisha, so she went looking for them while the rest of us met up with Selami, a Turkish friend and student at the university, as well as his girlfriend Elizabeth, an American who is teaching English in Istanbul this year. We smoked nargili and played backgammon until it was time to go. Our plan has been to take an overnight train back to Ankara, but there weren’t enough seats available. Fortunately, we were with two experts at the art of transportation between the two cities, and found a bus that got us back at 5am. I slept till noon.
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