Kicking it in Cancun

Two days ago my husband and I returned from a vacation in Cancun. On our last day there, something unexpected happened and I am determined to write about it before my tan fades.

My story, however, starts five years ago, on our first trip to Cancun to celebrate our 20th anniversary. On our way from the airport to our hotel, I noticed a terra-cotta path running in front of the hotels, all along the boulevard. So for my early morning jogs, I would set out one direction or the other and enjoy watching the groundskeepers tending the shrubs and watering the grass as I went along.

Groundskeepers tidy up the areas in front of the hotels every morning.

Dave (my husband) had the idea that I could run my six miles in one direction and then take the bus back. That way I could see more of the sights along the path. I had wanted to check out an athletic park I'd spied closer to the city center, so I tucked some pesos in the pocket of my running shorts and that's what I did.

We returned to Cancun two years ago. We stayed in different resort, but it was also on Kukulcan, the hotel zone boulevard, so I ran on the path for my morning runs.

On Sunday morning as I approached the downtown area, I noticed more people running than usual. As I got closer, I saw they had race numbers. Happy for the company, I joined in and ran with them. After a few attempts asking other runners in my limited Spanish, I determined that they were running their choice of either a 5K (one loop) or a 10K (two loops). The morning was unusually hot, so when we passed a water station with incredibly cold water bags, I took one.

I happened upon this race on a Sunday morning in 2014.

Intrigued, I followed them to the finish area and discreetly checked it out. They had banners, refreshments, medals--everything I would expect from races back home.

They had a pretty fruit table.

They had cool medals.

This year, when we decided to go back to Cancun, I remembered the race and wondered if it would be the same weekend we were there. I studied my photos and saw the name of the race. I Googled "Unidos Por La Pas" and found it. Yes, it was to be Jan. 31, our last day there.

Because the race price was in pesos, I didn't register from at home. In hindsight, I probably should have.

A few days after we got to our resort, I went to the front desk area and showed one of the gals my printout. Their internet service wasn't working at the time, but she pulled out her personal smart phone and found some information. Apparently I could either go to the Red Cross downtown or to Innovasport in the La Isla mall to register. Since I needed to get the kids some Cancun tank tops, I decided to head to the mall.

I had a map, and the buses are fairly easy to navigate. Still, I got confused, thinking the mall I was headed to would be before we passed our 2010 hotel, but I saw our Gran Caribe out the window as we whizzed by. At the next stop some people were getting off at a large mall so I decided to get off too and shop a bit before I tried to go back and find the mall I needed. Imagine my relief when I saw the sign "La Isla" and realized I was at the right place after all!

I found a directory and this store:

 A girl helped me "inscriber" (register) for the race, which took about 20 minutes of opening various windows on the store computer and consulting a few fellow employees. I used my credit card and the pesos changed to dollars through the magic of international banking. (I have checked my bank. The charge was $15.38 which was correct).

Packet pick-up was Saturday. The printout the Innovasport employee gave me after registering didn't say where it would be, and the other employees didn't know. I mentioned the gal from the hotel had said the other location was the Red Cross, so we assumed it would be there. She had assured me it was an easy bus ride because it was only a block from Wal-Mart.

So around 11 a.m. I tore myself away from the beach, threw on a cover-up, grabbed my information and flagged down the bus marked "Wal-Mart." It dropped me off a couple of blocks away, but some of the ubiquitous street corner tour guides pointed me in the right direction. Still, when I got to Wal-Mart, I couldn't figure out which direction I needed to go. A guy who spoke English told me the Red Cross was on the other side of the nearby tower, so I crossed the intersection and followed the block around the tower, and there were a handful of people sitting on benches waiting to be seen by someone at the Red Cross. The hotel gal had said the coffee shop right next to the Red Cross was actually the race headquarters, and I felt immense relief when I saw a corner store with two blue "5 ta Carrera Unidos por la Paz" race posters on either side of the counter.

So THIS is where we pick up our packets!

However, they did not have the race packets. They directed me to the Peugeot dealership, which was across the street from Wal-Mart. A girl who had been hanging out at the store walked back with me a block until we had crossed the street and made sure I saw the letters "Peugeot" as she pointed.

My 16-year old tour guide.

Inside, the race people were very organized and another high school aged girl who spoke good English guided me through the process of getting my shirt (thank goodness a mujers grande fit, because that's all they had left), and initializing my chip (they used the ones that you tie on your shoe and return at the end of the race). My name "Karen Franklin Franklin" popped up on their computer, and I was good to go. (At Innovasport, I told them to put "Franklin" twice, because they needed two last names, and I wasn't sure which one comes first, if it should be Epp Franklin or Franklin Epp).

The race was to begin at 7 a.m. I considered just running to the start from my hotel, since it was only 3.5 km away, but since it would still be dark I decided to take the bus. I double checked with a guy at the front desk, and he said I needed to get off on the first right after passing the park. However, the street was already blocked off for the race, so the bus never went right. I finally asked someone because the bus had traveled around the circle and was about to head back down the hotel strip. The bus driver let me off.

A guy named Hector, who was returning home after working all night at a disco, graciously guided me across the busy intersection and pointed me in the direction of the Palacio Municipal.

I made it! The Palacio Municipal. Someone told me the mayor lives here. Yo no se.

An emcee was walking through the crowd, interviewing people at random. He stopped me, I told him I was from the United States, Kansas. He asked how many people came with me. I said it was only me, my husband was sleeping back at our hotel. He laughed and in rapid Spanish relayed the information plus who knows what else to the crowd.

The emcee interviews another participant.

I'm ready to run!

Another guy he interviewed was wearing a triathlon jersey and said he was from Manchester. After the emcee moved on I introduced myself and found out he was indeed from Manchester, England and was on the last day of his honeymoon. He said he tries to find a race wherever he travels. He mentioned it had been a bit of an ordeal with several calls and assistance from his hotel staff to arrange to pick up his packet that morning.

One detail I'd overlooked on the race poster was that there were also races for the ninos (kids). Those were first. So I had plenty of time to hang out. I saw a gal with a labradoodle, which made me miss Odie, our Cavapoo.

I was missing my jog dog Odie.

I started talking to a group of gals with really cool running shirts that had their nicknames printed on the back. They said they run on the path along Kukulcan every day. I had them tell me their ages. Most were in their 30s. One was 20-something, and one was 40, the only one in my age group.

The friendly Cancun running club and me.

They were amazed that I was 47, and they all said I looked much younger, so I liked them immediately. I asked to take their picture, and they insisted that I be in it as well.

When the race started, everyone took off fast. I thought maybe too fast, but no one seemed to be having trouble. I was noticing how humid the Cancun air was, so I was thrilled to see the first hydration station at the 1K mark. I was also excited because I think these Friolin water bags are the coolest things ever. And they were cool--chilled, in fact. Plus, they hold more water than you could ever drink in a race (500 ml), so after biting off the corner and sucking out all the wonderful cool water I wanted, I squirted the rest all over myself. Invigorating!

After the race I caught up with the running club again. While waiting for results, I found out one was a high school teacher in Cancun and teaches web design. Another worked in a boutique at one of the resorts. The 20-something gal said she had moved to Cancun only two weeks ago to take a job at the airport directing airplane maintenance. Somehow she'd gotten hooked up with these gals (I think one of their husbands works at the airport with her, but don't quote me) and she said they had been welcoming and friendly. I could easily imagine.

We took pictures in front of the mural they were painting.

The results came in, and I saw I took second! Angelica, the 40-year-old from the group, had taken 1st in our age group.

Yes, Franklin Franklin Karen is Master Female #2!

Then the unexpected happened. I turned around and one of the gals was handing me one of their club running shirts. She asked if I would wear it on the podium for them.

I remember our church's women's ministry leader Julie LeFevre describing a time in middle school after a sleepover that she knew she and the other girl were really and truly friends because the friend loaned her a hoodie. I felt the same way. Would I wear one of their super-cool club running shirts? Heck yeah! Just give me a moment to choke back the tears.

They handed me one of their shirts to wear for the podium!

We had to take another group picture. The shirt I am
wearing belongs to the gal in the black tank top.
I think she didn't race because she was
watching kids.

The international symbol of
female friendship:
 wearing each others' clothes!

The mens masters (40-49) winners joined us.

I couldn't get over how quickly these women embraced me and welcomed me into their circle. I was amazed. Now we are friends on Facebook!





On the bus ride back, I sat with another race participant, Daisy (in Spanish, her name is Margarita, she told me), who happened to be vacationing with her family from Bogota, Colombia. I have a soft spot in my heart for Colombia because I spent a summer on a mission trip there when I was in college.

I felt like a celebrity walking into our resort. Mary was back on duty. 

She was the one who had helped me register in the first place!

Mary was pleased to hear I had taken second place in my age group.

How many people does it take to run a race in Cancun? 

A lot, but the experience is priceless!