Istanbul Marathon: Where two continents meet

If you limit your international marathon experience to the World Majors, you are missing a lot. There are 195 countries and an estimated 2,500 to 4,000 marathons held every year. Even if I wanted to run half of them in one lifetime, it would be an impossible goal. Last Sunday found me at the start of the only marathon that runs from Asia to Europe: Istanbul, Turkey.

I had registered long ago, but until the last minute I wasn’t sure I would go. Family obligations and work constraints dictate my schedule. Then I spotted a slight opening. Monday was a holiday, so if I left Thursday night, I would need only one day of leave. I called Ken Dyangco, who helps with my visas, on Wednesday night. My e-visa arrived Thursday morning, the tickets right after, and that night I was on a plane.

My pre-booked boutique hotel, Me By Mula, sat in the heart of Sultanahmet. I arrived around lunchtime Friday, too early to check in, so I wandered the cobblestone streets, bought supplies at a local grocer, and hunted for the best neighborhood eatery.

I found a tiny restaurant serving traditional Anatolian cuisine and ordered testi kebab, the clay-pot meat dish associated with Cappadocia. Then came my first genuine Turkish coffee, intense and earthy. That evening I wandered the old quarter, where the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia, the Basilica Cistern and Topkapı Palace all sit within walking distance of each other.

Saturday began with breakfast at the hotel restaurant, with a magnificent view of the Bukoleon Palace, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, then the race expo. Runners know that race expos are black holes: you walk in swearing you won’t buy anything and walk out hauling extra bags. As a Type 2 runner, I bought my race singlet there.

Afterward, I scouted my race-morning route, from the tram to the ferry station, because I didn’t want to solve logistics in the dark. Dinner was another non-touristy find, and I had my fill of kebabs. Too full to relax, I did a workout at the hotel gym, laid out my flat lay, and forced myself to sleep.

I woke up before six, had breakfast, and headed to the tram, where I got into great conversation with other waiting runners. Three stops later, we reached the ferry. The sun wasn’t up yet, and the Bosphorus at night was simply breathtaking, its bridges and shorelines glittering on black water. The ferry took us across to the Asian side, and we walked to the start by the 15 July Martyrs Bridge. This isn’t a Major, but I felt the people who fly here for this race are usually searching for a bucket-list adventure. At 9 a.m. sharp, we were off.

Nothing prepares you for running across the Bosphorus from Asia into Europe. Below, ships glide between two continents. Ahead, the skyline rises with domes and minarets. Istanbul is rich in history, and Byzantine and Ottoman architecture.

Along the route we passed Dolmabahçe Palace, crossed the Galata Bridge with fishermen lining its rails and ran beside the Golden Horn.

Then came the finish: an uphill climb into Sultanahmet, with Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque rising ahead. It felt as though I had transcended civilizations on foot, from Byzantium to the Ottomans to the modern city, all in one race. I soaked in every bit of its glory and history.

After collecting my finisher’s medal, I walked back to the hotel, packed, and headed to the airport. It was only a three-day trip, but I’m already planning a comeback with the kids.