The first ever Zihua Marathon took place on July 31, and it was a disaster. Before I get into it, the positives were that the weather was about as good as you could hope. It was a bit overcast until 8:30am or so. You can’t expect much better for Zihuatanejo in July.

I first saw an announcement regarding the marathon in early April. I spent several weeks considering if I was going to run my first marathon in 9 years or not before ultimately pulling the trigger. For those that registered before the end of April there were some extra items promised, like a hat and a t-shirt. The event was to include a 5k, 10k, 21k half-marathon, and the full 42k marathon. Pricing ranged from 520 pesos to 1,630 pesos, depending on the race and which package you wanted. I paid for the 1,630 pesos. In addition to my bonus hat and shirt, I was to receive a mug, shorts, bandana, entry to win some additional sponsor prizes, and more. Plus, everyone would get to participate in the race, with timed chips, water stations, snacks, live-streamed video, photos, a medal, and so on. Basically a normal marathon, and well worth the $90USD or so.

The race was on a Sunday, which is the best day to close roads and hold an event, since Saturday is a workday for many Mexicans. Friday and Saturday were the days to pick up the race packets. I arrived to get my packet Friday morning. First red flag was the lack of staff to assist. Second red flag was when the guy in charge told me, after waiting in line, that everything except the race shirt and the mug were delayed. He asked me to return the next day.

The next day the line was more than an hour long. When I got to the front the guy in charge had to come clean. The items we paid for weren’t coming, but he was going to give partial refunds for those that paid extra. Another red flag. Still waiting for that refund two weeks later. Also, no time chips for the runners, so I was a little concerned with how this clearly short-staffed guy was going to time the event.

Day of the race. I was up at 5:15am and left at 6am for the pier where the race began. Start time was 6:30am, but they were still getting things ready up until we took off at 6:45am. The first race day hiccup was that we couldn’t run from the actual starting point because there was a gate blocking the path, so we had to walk around the gate and then start the race. About two and a half miles in we had to turn around, and that was my first missed turn. I overran it by maybe 40 feet. Doesn’t seem like much but in a marathon your goal is to minimize the extra running you have to do.

The turn was strange because we had to jump over a median and curbs to the other side of the road. For the first seven or eight miles there were three or four places where someone was passing out 350ml water bottles. The preference is to drink a little water then discard a cup, but I thought maybe this was a covid thing forcing us to carry a water bottle.

After that first confusing turn the rest of the route that was on the road was intermingled with traffic.
There were a few transit police for cross traffic, but for the most part cars were driving amongst us as we ran. Didn’t seem super safe. At the sixth mile I saw a runner take a terrible spill and cut himself up pretty good. We were running on super uneven sidewalks, and of course no one was anywhere near to give him medical attention or check on him. About nine miles in I took my first completely wrong turn by following a sign painted on the road with an arrow that said “42k.” I ran for about 45 seconds before realizing I was the only one going that way. After 10 miles they handed out 1 liter gatorade bottles. I took a couple sips and threw 95% of a bottle on the ground. I’m not carrying two pounds in my hand for the next several miles.

Then I missed another turn apparently and ran through the finish line. Everyone was confused. I’m yelling at transit police asking which way for the marathon and they are just pointing me to the finish line. So I’m at the finish line trying to find someone who can tell me what to do. I turned around and started running back towards the ciclovia and Playa Linda, since I knew eventually that was where the course went.

There wasn’t a single marker on the entire course letting you know how far you had run or which direction to turn. By 8:30am there are people all over Ixtapa riding bicycles, directing traffic, jogging, and standing on the side of the road, but you can’t tell who is with the marathon, and who is just exercising, working for a hotel, or selling a boat excursion.

From the time I tossed that mostly full gatorade on the ground I ran over 8 miles without a drop of water.
It would’ve been longer but a guy was carrying an extra bottle and passed it to me. When I hit the water station I yelled at the guys standing there chit-chatting and then grabbed several extra warm bottles of water and passed them out to runners I passed. People were clearly struggling.

I never saw any medical personnel. I ran most of the marathon angry that this could happen, the disregard for people’s safety. Not just me, but I’m sure there were many others that ran for miles without seeing another runner.

At mile 20 my body started breaking down. I ran the first half of the marathon in 1hr 49 minutes.
Through 20 miles I was averaging an 8:40 mile. If I saw another runner I would have to ask how far he had run and then I would try to do the math in my head on how I could get back to Ixtapa without having to run more than I had to, yet still complete a full marathon. I missed so many turns I knew that if I ran the exact course the rest of the way I may end up running 29 miles. The last water station was at mile 24, 5 miles since the previous one, and only the second one for about 14 miles. It was frustrating because after 23 miles I decided that it wouldn’t be smart or safe to keep running and moved into a walk.
Miles 21, 22, and 23 were a much slower 11:40 per mile pace. And the last three miles and something were at a 17:45 per mile pace. In the 25th mile I walked into a mini-mart and bought a cold gatorade before trying to jog the last mile or so. I was trying to run again and saw a couple in front of me walking leisurely, and they were getting further from me by the minute. So I figured I could get to the end of the race quicker by just walking briskly.

Ali met me at the finish line, took a couple of photos and I got out of there, defeated. I did have a brief conversation with the guy in charge. It was cordial. His first words to me were “That was horrifying.” I told him they should not have gone forward with the event knowing how unprepared they were. I told him that if no one passed out or got seriously injured on the course then he should consider that a miracle. He didn’t say anything and gave me another shirt.

Ali told me that everyone was frustrated as they finished the race. Since then it has been clear that this was about as bad as it could be. Almost every runner felt like they were scammed. One person wrote online, “I have run 18 half marathons and this one was deadly.”

People that live here have a lot of pride in Zihua and Mexico, and they hate that this guy in charge of the event has possibly damaged the view of the area for some of the runners visiting for this race. On top of everything else apparently they didn’t have the money to pay the winners of each category their prize money. I’m proud that I finished what I had trained for over the previous three and a half months, but that marathon was an awful experience. And they spelled “correr” wrong on the medal!