The Great Flight: Qusqo 10K

Today I participated in the Hatun Phaway, Qusqo 10K race. Hatun Phaway in Quechua for “great flight”, and it is the first year that this event has taken place. It is organized and hosted by la policia de turismo (tourism police). Apparently if you are a tourist and the unfortunate victim of a crime, such as theft, they should be the first point of contact. I’m unsure and was unable to find out what the purpose of this event was exactly. It did not seem to be geared directly at tourists as the cost was free with the exception of a non-perishable donation. Keeping the cost low/free ensures that it is accessible to many (not just tourists). The vast majority of the participants appeared to be local residents of Cusco and nearby regions. While challenging to race under the powerful sun at an elevation of 3,400 meters, this event was a unique experience that I will never forget.

As a person who identifies as a “recreational athlete” I’ve participated in my fair share of road runs, mountain treks, and obstacle courses. While similarities always exist from one event to the next, the Hatun Phaway, and the energy that fueled it, was unique in several ways. As every race that I’ve previously participated in has been in the United States or Canada, contrasts were inevitable. The primary feature that stood out to me were the participants. Most notable among them was the distinct class difference. In ancient civilizations, running was a necessary skill for hunting down prey. Today, running is primarily engaged in as a form of exercise to improve physical or mental health. There is also a niche group where participation in races in exotic places can be a way in which one signifies status. Time and time again I’ve been asked by ‘hard core’ racers if I have (or plan to) to run marathons in places like Boston, London, New York, or Berlin. While the nature of these questions is intended to be harmless, I find they only come from highly privileged individuals that may not recognize that obstacles that exist for others to accomplish these feats (ie. time, money, health, nationality, etc.). 

Another feature that stood out to me was the attire that racers dawned for the occasion. For example, at a Vancouver race, almost every participant is sporting name brand athletic attire such as Hokas, Under Armor, Nike, and Lululemon, to name a few. Previous and possible future sites of injury are protected by body glide, special gels, and athletic tape, and each race wears just the right amount of clothing for the weather because they have the luxury of a bag check, where they can leave extra items that will be waiting for them at the finish line. Today I saw few, if any brand names, and at least half of the shoes did not look like proper running shoes, but were a mixture of all other assortments that do not offer the same cushion and support. People ran with too many layers for the heat. They wore backpacks and ran with children and dogs, and radios. Despite the lack of modern sporting attire, I was amazed by the strength and energy of the Cusco runners. I was passed countless times by people who I’d have expected to out run. There was a 56 year old man who I spoke with before and after the race. He was a couple of inches shorter than me and he appeared to be average regarding physical fitness. He beat my time by 6 minutes!! 

To me these differences exemplify a difference in the underlying motivation to run. While some run for health, fun, and status, others run for pride, tradition, and community. I truly admire the strength and strong sense of community of the people of Cusco. 

I’d love to hear the opinions of others: Why do they run?