Every year around this time, Jerusalem begins to undergo a transformation. It is subtle at first – only the keenest of observers notice it. A new face out running laps around the neighborhood at the crack of dawn; the numbers 5, 10, 21.1, and 42.2 popping up in different places as though people were communicating in code; ads for running shoes seemingly on every street corner. Gradually, like slow strokes of a paintbrush filling a canvas, a realization takes form: the Jerusalem Marathon is approaching. One wonders if Mayor Nir Barkat could have foreseen, back in 2011 when he launched the first Jerusalem Marathon, what a profound impact his vision would have on Israel's capital. It unquestionably “put Jerusalem on the map of world marathons” as was the hope expressed by city officials at the time. But the Jerusalem Marathon has done much more than boost the city's PR; it has altered the course of lives. They say that seeing is believing. The Jerusalem Marathon is a case where running is believing. One can get a sense of the elation felt by runners as they pass through the Old City by scrolling through the thousands of colorful photos published online, but no photographer can capture visually the full range of emotions runners experience internally over the course of the event. They plumb the depths of hopelessness, regain their composure, then plunge further, then claw their way out. The cycle goes on until at long last the finish line is crossed, and they are on top of the world. What makes the Jerusalem Marathon different from all other marathons? Ten years ago, there was one official marathon in Israel – the Tiberias Marathon. But unless you were a professional runner or a seriously dedicated one, you may never have even heard of it. It was certainly not the kind of event that was talked about by the average recreational runner. Then, in 2009, the Tel Aviv Marathon returned to the scene after a 15-year hiatus. By that time, mirroring a global trend, the popularity of running in Israel was surging, and the Tel Aviv Marathon immediately established itself as one of the premier annual sporting events in the country. When Jerusalem joined the ranks two years later, it brought something different to the table. The routes of the Tiberias and Tel Aviv marathons are flat. That is a good thing for two kinds of runners: beginners, who haven't yet acquired the mental calluses for dealing with hills along the course, and seasoned runners, whose primary objective is to finish fast. In the Jerusalem vernacular, “flat” is almost not a word. You're either pounding your knees downhill with the equivalent of up to 10 times your weight or straining your heart to increase blood circulation to oxygen- starved muscles laboring to propel the body uphill against the force of gravity. There is no in-between. Every race has its moment of crisis, that point where the body is on the verge of persuading the mind that it should stop running. It creeps up like a shoulder demon, counting off all the reasons to surrender – soreness here, pain there, thirst, fatigue, numbing cold, scorching heat, rain, hail, wind, sun. Its voice is never more persuasive than when struggling up a hill. String together a series of such spirit-crushing climbs, and that is the Jerusalem Marathon in a nutshell. Finishing the race, triumphing over waves of adversity, that takes and builds character. That changes a person. Terrain sets Jerusalem apart on a physical level. It puts Israel's capital up there with the world's most challenging urban marathons. If that were the event's sole claim to fame, though, it would not explain why runners flock to it every year from all over the world, in numbers that keep growing. The answer to that lies in two other features that Jerusalem boasts in uniquely copious amounts: beauty and spirit. Which of Israel's five official marathons is the most beautiful is a perennial topic of debate among runners in the country – particularly among Jerusalemites and Tel Avivians. In all fairness, they are too different for any meaningful comparison to be made. There is not a city in the world that can compete with Jerusalem for spirit, however. Runners in the Jerusalem Marathon soak up inspiration from contact with the ground beneath their feet and the air around them in much the same way that Jerusalem's light rail draws energy through contact with the overhead electrical wires. When all is said and done, when you are sprawled out on the grass of Sacher Park clutching a medal in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, your pulse and breath will eventually settle down, but your soul will not. It is only a matter of time before you yearn to relive the experience. If it was the 5K you ran, you will train for next year's 10K; if you ran the 10K, you will train for the half-marathon. And after that, as intimidating as it may sound, you will resolve to undertake the ultimate challenge, the full Jerusalem Marathon. Or, if until today you were a spectator high-fiving runners from the sidewalk outside your building, there is no better time than now to commit to your first 5K. It starts with a pair of running shoes and a lap around the block at the crack of dawn.
(photo credit: MARC ISRAEL SELLEM)