Of the many factors that make the Pyongyang Marathon so special, the venue for the start and finish of the race, the Kim Il Song Stadium, really stood out. The arena seats around fifty thousand people, and on race day it was a full house. As we arrived in our busses, fans were already streaming silently into the stadium, but when we stepped through the gates into the arena, the feeling of being greeted by that many people was nothing short of amazing.

Kim Il Song Stadium

The race route itself is a ten kilometer lap. Participants in the 10k race do it once, the half-marathon runners go twice, and the full marathon heroes lap four times. I would have chosen the 10k, but because it doesn’t finish in the stadium, I opted for the half-marathon.

Arc of Triumph

The route was less scenic than I had hoped. It starts with the Arc of Triumph — the highest in the world, Ms. Lee ensured us, besting the one in Paris by some 11 meters! — and then climbs up a hill beside soviet style housing compounds. At one point there’s a tunnel, followed by a bridge crossing which marks the 5k mark. From there, it’s down along the Teadong River — the “real” the cradle of mankind, per Ms. Lee, with relics found here dating back over one million years — then over another bridge, through another tunnel, and alongside more housing compounds until you finally find yourself back at the stadium.

thousands lining the streets

By far the best thing about the race was the people lining the streets. Whenever I could take my mind off catching my breath and focusing on my run, I was high-fiving fans by the hundreds from the very young to the very old. I estimate there were around five thousand lining the 10k route alone. Many just stood there and watched, but some where really excited, cheering us on and holding their hands out for contact with the runners. Some kids where even running along, shouting in English, “Hello, how are you, what’s your name?” It struck me that this was probably one of the very few times foreigners have actually been able to interact sincerely and without government interference/monitoring with the people of North Korea.

It was a truly beautiful and memorable experience, and the support of the onlookers greatly contributed to me being able to complete the half-marathon. They kept me going, they kept me thinking about them, their political situation and the reality of their lives. Theirs is a reality I’m unlikely to fully understand, and I certainly wasn’t going to get any closer to them from the seat of the bus under the watchful eye of Ms. Lee.

The kids of North Korea

We finished the race in front of those same fifty thousand supporters, who were eerily clapping and waving flags according to a strict rhythm, as dictated by directors assigned to every seating block. I don’t think that any of the spectators in the stadium really cared about us; they had simply been assigned by the government to attend the event and show the world how “welcome” the foreign runners were.