Rock and Roll Marathon, Afghanistan

by CDR TIMOTHY F. NOONAN
Sun Correspondent
Archived August 2007 article

The race organizers in California have sent us numbers and T-shirts so we can feel like one of the Rock and Roll participants. It is just getting light out, no daylight savings time here. As we approach the starting line we can see the other runners gathered around the race organizer. He is handing out last-minute numbers to late arrivers. The weather is already getting hot. The high temperature is expected to be about 90 degrees with strong winds. This is not San Diego weather. We know what these winds can do to the dusty surroundings. The combination of high temperature and strong winds do not bode well for a fast time.

The course is one time around the base for approximately 8 miles; then we turn around and run the opposite direction for about 6 miles, then turn around and do the 6-mile portion two more times. So now we know we have bad weather and a boring course. Did I mention that there is no shade on the course? And that the sun will be bearing down on us by 0600? Can you tell I am already coming up with excuses for a slow time and I haven't even started yet?

I am the only runner from Hawaii. We are from all over the United States; we are military and contractors come together to do what we love. For many of the runners this is the first, and possibly last marathon they will do. But it will be memorable for all of us.

The race begins, and I am with the front group of runners. No one wants to start too fast. Everyone is a little wary of the altitude, 5000 feet. I have not run a marathon at this altitude, and after asking some of the runners around me, I learn that no else has, either. Around three miles some of the younger runners drop back, and that leaves a 43-year-old and me. He's not in my age group, I tell myself, so don't worry about him. He tells me his best time is 2 hours 42 minutes. Much faster than my personal best. I decide to let him go and focus on maintaining a strong pace.

The sun comes out strong at around 10 miles and I am running into the glare when I feel the first of the winds. It feels like I am running backwards for a few minutes and the wind slows some. I start to worry now since I will have to run into the wind for the next 3 miles before turning around and enjoying a tailwind. I come through halfway too fast, at around 1:31. I can feel my legs getting heavy. I wonder if I am drinking enough water with the temperatures climbing into the 80s.

I pass the other runners as we go back and forth in the sun and wind. Some look good, others look like they are being tortured. I wonder how I must look to them. We all cheer for each other, some in gasping breaths, others with strong drill-sergeant-like voices. I make my final turnaround and know I have only 6 miles left. I am slowing miserably and wonder if I will make it to the end without having to walk. I come to 23 miles, and the wind begins - much stronger than before. The wind comes out of the mountains here and sweeps across Bagram Airfield with nothing to slow it down. I can hardly make my body move forward into the blast. No one would mind if I stop now and walk, but I don't. I keep on moving and finally come to the finish line. Three hours, 16 minutes. Second place. Only one minute slower than my goal time. I am exhausted. The heat and wind have sapped my energy. However, I must walk one mile to my room. Then I will have to go to work right after showering. It is already 8 am.

I think about home as I walk back. I think about my wife, Kelly Noonan, and that I have 6 more months left before going home to run with her again. We will meet in September for my leave, and she will take time off from her job at The Oahu Club and we'll run the Berlin Marathon, so I have that to look forward to. The importance of what we are doing makes me accept the time here and the people make it worthwhile. I will always remember my time here, and know that I ran a marathon in Afghanistan.