Do you know where Hiva Oa is? It’s part of the Marquesas Island chain in French Polynesia. It’s one of the most beautiful islands we’ve sailed to, seriously—every mountain peak and coastal view has me in awe!
This amazing place is where we made landfall after 28 days at sea, and we’d been here for the last two weeks or so waiting for new rudders. When we first arrived, we’d seen a sign for a half marathon, but we weren’t sure whether we’d still be here, so we didn’t give it much thought.
Until it was suddenly the day before the race, and we realised we were going to be here!
So we sailed over, bought a heap of grape juice (if you know, you know) and snacks, hired a car, drove the route, and then headed home to get to bed early—tomorrow we were running a half marathon.
The Preparation
Full disclaimer: there was very little preparation. Like, at all.
We’d been at sea for 28 days, then run about three times in the two weeks since, the longest of which was 7km. But we were gonna try.
The day before, we hired a car and drove the route to get a rough idea of where to go and the sort of elevation we’d be facing. The answer? A LOT.
I don’t know if there’s a flat road on the whole island, so we were going to be doing a lot of up and a lot of down.
Now knowing what we’d be facing the next day, we went into town and loaded up on some grape juice (they don’t have electrolyte drinks here) and snacks for during and after the run.
Feeling as prepped as we could be, we then went to the race meeting. It was all in French, but there was a lovely guy who translated a bit for us. He was also the person who told us that the age limit was 18.
Well then, I guess three of us would be running unofficially.
We headed home, had a good dinner, and got to bed early.
Race Day
The alarm went off at 4am. I stumbled out of bed, threw on my running clothes, and headed up to down some breakfast.
After using the bathroom, we all loaded into the dinghy in the dark and headed into the dock. Finding our way sleepily to the car, we hopped in and drove around to town.
We were on time: 5am.
We then waited for an hour while people got their shirts and bib numbers, watched as the sky slowly lightened, and eventually we were up and heading for the start line.
The First 7km
I’ve decided to split this into thirds. I think it’ll make the most sense.
There wasn’t a horn, or even a countdown to start this race—everyone just started moving, and we were away.
Running through town, we made it to the beach and were hit by a lovely shower of rain as we moved around the first headland. We were straight into an incline, but thankfully it wasn’t too steep and soon had us heading down again.
I’d soon learn that first headland and hill were a luxury.
We followed the road and took a right down to the docks to add a kilometre or so before heading back to the main road and straight up a hill.
Yep, the uphill had officially begun.
My family all spread out, along with the rest of the runners, and I soon found myself alone, several metres in front of the closest person.
I don’t mind running alone, though, and it was amazing watching the ocean off the coast come alive with the morning sun.
Beautiful.
Four kilometres in and I was feeling strong as the road began to twist inland. We were still going up, but relatively gradually.
I focused on reaching the 7km point, and soon enough my watch buzzed and flashed the one-third mark.
Two Thirds Done
Okay, so from 7km to 14km was all uphill.
Not kidding.
If you read to the end, you’ll find the stats showing exactly how much elevation there was on this run—and it’s a lot.
So I plodded along, keeping my breathing under control and making sure never to stop.
The bright side of going up was that the air temperature was lower than at sea level, and in the morning it was gloriously crisp and smelled of pine trees.
I passed the coolest aid station around 10km, with music blaring, local ladies dancing with coconut leaves, and Mum shouting along with them as I ran past.
An amazing moment for the memory banks.
I then continued the winding climb. I did have to walk on a few of the steepest corners, but I don’t think all my walking would’ve even added up to 10 minutes anyway, so it wasn’t too bad.
In those sections, though, I managed to pass a few people, which helped my morale a bit.
Oh, and the music I’d put on didn’t hurt either.
The key thing is that around 13km, the incline finally stops.
So, as I passed 11km and then 12km, crossed halfway, and passed the airport, I had one last leg-burner of a hill to get up before finally reaching the roundabout.
The Roundabout
The roundabout is where the downhill finally starts.
So far, my whole goal had been to make it to this point, and then I could just make my way down into the valley.
Now that I was here, I fully believed I could finish this thing.
Mum and Pip (our support crew) hooked me up with some fluids before I began my charge downhill.
I managed to catch Dad and Archie in the first downhill kilometre, which was great.
I then ran with them for a bit before continuing past and speeding downhill as fast as my joints would allow.
Downhill & Finishing
Even though the downhill amounts to about a third of the race, it was definitely the easier section for me.
Others didn’t think so—their joints weren’t too happy about the steepness—but I felt pretty good.
The road on this section of the course is really winding, just like the way up, so I’d take the corners wide and say bonjour to anyone I managed to pass.
Now that I was on the other side of the island, it was also gloriously shady as the sun climbed higher, and I was frothing.
The kilometres gradually ticked down. Every one meant I was that much closer.
Soon I was at 19km and hit the start of the village.
The last two kilometres were nice and flat, and it was here that my legs definitely felt finished.
But I pushed through, kept as much pace as I could, and soon I could see the ocean through the palm trees lining the beach.
Across a bridge.
Wave to a few locals watching.
Down the last straight.
Hang a right to the foreshore and…
Sprint across the finish!
I’d made it.
The Aftermath
I immediately downed a heap of water and juice. Probably too fast, but oh well.
Five minutes after I finished, Archie and Dad crossed the finish line, my youngest brother completing his first-ever half marathon.
We enjoyed the moment of finally stopping and limped towards the car to find some food and water while we waited for the other two to come into view.
Next was Pip. She’d run from the roundabout and covered about 8km.
Then came Finn.
It was also his first-ever half marathon, and wow, what a champion. He’d never run more than 10km before, and here he was, finishing a half marathon in Hiva Oa.
With everyone across the line, Mum pulled out some really cool homemade medals to award us as we tried not to limp too much whenever we moved.
Run Stats
Okay! Here are some stats for you:
The Route
- Around 21.5km in total
- 580m of elevation gain
- From one side of the island to the other
The Runners
- My time: 2h 25min
- Dad & Archie: 2h 29min
- Pip: 8km
- Finn: 2h 45min
- Mum: the awesome support crew who kept us going
Summary
I’m so stoked to have been able to do this. It was such an amazing experience.
I mean, how many people get to say they’ve run a half marathon in Hiva Oa?
For those wondering, we actually recovered pretty well and were surfing by the next afternoon.
Thankfully, our overall level of fitness is pretty good. I don’t know if I’d recommend doing this right after a huge Pacific passage, but hey, why not?
I really hope you enjoyed coming along on this adventure with me.
I’d love to know if you’ve ever run a half marathon, been to French Polynesia, or even if you just dream of it.
I’ll catch you in the comments.