An ambulance stuck among runners
On Saturday, March 23, Chongqing had cloudy skies, light winds, a temperature of 18°C, and a PM2.5 level of 58.
It was perfect weather for holding a marathon. By 8:30 a.m., over 30,000 people had gathered on the southern bank of the Yangtze River, waiting for the starting gun. A friend from Chongqing explained that most roads in this mountainous city are built along the slopes, featuring numerous bends and bridges. A place that looks close might still be several kilometers away, and taking a wrong turn makes it even harder to reach. This annual marathon didn’t include steep sections but was instead held along the scenic and relatively flat riverside roads. Nanbin Road, located in southern Chongqing, is separated from the bustling city center by the river. Most of this route consists of four-lane dual carriageways, with wide sidewalks and riverside walkways. The start and finish lines were set at the main entrance of Nanbin Park, which faces star-rated hotels and over a dozen well-known restaurants, meeting nearly all needs for both participants and spectators.
The event was reported on Sunday, stating that “it took 20 minutes for the start,” referring to the time it took for all 30,000 participants to cross the starting line. I had registered for the half marathon and crossed the start line in less than two minutes, while full marathon runners likely took even less time.
This was my third marathon, and I thought nothing could top my previous experiences—until I encountered something that did: an ambulance that somehow drove into the crowd. Shortly after the majority of the half marathon runners had passed the start line, an ambulance pulled in from the side and merged with the runners. It didn’t disappear from the course until about 5 kilometers in. Perhaps it was there in case of emergencies within the first five kilometers, but I have to say, running alongside an ambulance was a terrible experience. Parking it at a certain point along the route would have served the same safety purpose.
Although there were no hills, both professional athletes and amateur runners found this road course “tough on the feet.” Runner No. 00023, a professional athlete, limped toward the post-race check-in area with the help of staff, holding a brand-new pair of running shoes. He briefly told me his right foot was slightly injured and he experienced cramps even after crossing the finish line. The men’s champion of this race was Ethiopian runner Debele. Before receiving his award, he suddenly squatted down and vomited—a rare occurrence even among elite athletes. Despite this, Debele’s finishing time of 2 hours, 10 minutes, and 39 seconds was far from outstanding.
For a city marathon, it’s not just about giving 30,000 people a pleasant racing experience—it’s also about minimizing disruptions to urban commuting and bringing joy to as many residents as possible. The hotel where I stayed was located along the race route. The night before the race, the hotel informed all guests that “due to the marathon, the road outside will be closed from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. the next day.” In other words, avoid going in and out during the day on Saturday. While this wasn’t a big issue for regular guests, some people were left frustrated. Ms. Zheng and her husband had booked their wedding banquet at the Sheraton Hotel for last Saturday at noon. Since the hotel was within the closure zone, their original plan to take outdoor photos at Nanbin Park had to be canceled. Even more disappointing, the wedding car couldn’t drive in, leaving the bride increasingly upset and the groom trying to console her. Five or six photographers hired at great expense could only take pictures at the hotel entrance, and many guests arrived late due to the road closures.