Daniel Head, a 2004 graduate of Rhodes College, was a recipient of the Thomas J. Watson Research Fellowship to pursue an individualized research project around the globe for 12 months. Head chose to explore his project entitled "From Messenger to Masochist: Cultural Motivations of Marathon Runners" in seven countries spanning the globe: Australia, Greece, Egypt, Denmark, United Arab Emirates, Tanzania, and South Africa. During his visit to each country, Head explored the running scene through local running clubs and races, while learning about local cultures and peoples. His report from Australia was published in the Jan-Feb '07 issue, from Greece in the Mar- Apr '07 issue, and Egypt in May-Jun '07. Here, the final installment, he writes of his experiences in Denmark and Dubai.

Running on Christmas Day in Denmark
After the last installment from Egypt, I headed north for the holidays to snowy and windy Denmark. Brr! I spent my weeks there with two different Danish marathon runners I met on the run while in Greece. I met the Danes at the Spartathlon in Greece and they asked me to drive their support car along the 150 mile route. These Danes were marathon mad, recounting numerous stories of marathons around the globe. There seemed to be a marathon in Denmark every weekend, so I wondered, in a country of only 5 million people, how much could the average Dane be running? After receiving an open invitation from two runners I befriended, I quickly scheduled the couple weeks in Denmark into my research year, choosing to spend the Christmas holidays in a cold climate and intrigued by their New Year's Eve marathon tradition.

I knew I'd be in good hands when Michael picked me up from the Copenhagen airport and pulled out two Julebraug's (Christmas beers) from the glove compartment and showed me how to open a beer bottle with a seatbelt (this is totally legal in Denmark, by the way). I spent the first week on the island of Fyn, accompanying Michael on the job, playing with his four little kids, touring a bit with his wife Annette, and eating and drinking and being merry. I don't think a day went by when there wasn't some sort of Christmas feast without at least 20 "SKAAL!"'s (Cheers!) being yelled from around the table.

People were fascinated by my project, and were telling me about all the scenic runs they had planned out for me each day, but by my eighth shot of "Vikings Blood," I started to wonder how they would be able to run with such a hangover. The next morning, when the sun rose at 10 am, I realized I was the only one that would be hurting over the next eight-mile jog. These people weren't just hardcore marathoners, they were hardcore everything. Since Denmark had been a last minute addition to my itinerary, I had not packed any leggings or thermal gear for my 12 month journey and was too proud to accept the offers of borrowed gear. No wonder they drank and ran so much; it was the only way to keep warm.

The big feast was on Christmas Day, this one accompanied by a very windy and cold Christmas run out to another island (me still insisting on wearing my shorts). We visited grandparents, went hunting in the snow, took several shots of schnapps, drank plenty of Glogg, and, just for the kiddies, I dressed up as the Juleman and danced around the Juletraer.

The week after Christmas I went to Jutland, to visit another Danish marathoner, Kim, whom I had met in Greece. He took me on a beautiful, but challenging, run to the two highest mountains in Denmark, with a downhill run home from the top, and then, of course, more feasts and beer and schnapps. After four days of getting even fatter and more intoxicated in Jutland, playing in the snow, and hanging with his fun family, I hopped back in the mini-van to drive back to Fyn.

On New Years Eve I awoke early to travel to Copenhagen with Michael for my last marathon of 2004, the "Social Marathon." Although the route was awful and I didn't see one bit of Copenhagen proper, the race was a great experience. The unique aspect of the race is that there is no clock, and no start time- -only a finish line and lots of friendly runners. Everyone finishes at 1 pm and starts at whatever time he likes, so that everyone can finish together and partake in celebratory New Year's Eve beer and champagne! People run in huge groups; my group was about 30 people, and at every station we would all stop for coffee and cake, and then continue on our jolly run in the freezing cold. A run like this might have baffled me only a year before, but after learning in Australia that marathoners are typically social creatures, this seemed to fit perfectly. Yet another great way to experience a marathon. On New Year's Day, Michael has a bizarre tradition of jumping into the ocean in a bathing suit. My tolerance for cold weather is higher than anyone's I know, but even now I'm not really sure why I joined in. We took several (many) shots of Viking Blood, washed down with Glogg (heated wine with almonds and raisins) and jumped into the ocean. BRR!! We went back in a total of three times and by the end of it all I couldn't feel my legs when drying off. It was somehow exhilarating in a masochistic sort of way. The "modern masochist" part of my marathon study also seemed to be falling into place. What is it about marathon runners that makes us enjoy pain, the challenge of something that will hurt us, and the enjoyment of coming out of it alive--even if cold and sore.

Resting in Dubai
It was time to move on from Denmark and onto my next marathon destination, Dubai, United Arab Emirates. Snowy marathon one day, plus Artic Ocean swimming the next, plus two long flights to hot and sunny Dubai over the next days, equals FLU! I accidentally booked my plane for the wrong day, so I was flying in the day before the Dubai Marathon. I had planned to highjack it from the airport straight to the pasta party, but by the time I landed could barely pull myself out of the flu-induced coma and decided to rest instead.

It goes without saying that my first impressions of Dubai weren't positive, as it hurt to look at anything in the bright sunlight. But even as my stay progressed, I didn't fall in love with the city everyone raves over. It wasn't the Middle Eastern cultural city I had pictured it to be. They say it's the Las Vegas of the Middle East, and sure enough in 20 years I'm sure downtown Dubai will look very similar to Manhattan or Hong Kong. But now it's in a transition phase with hoards of construction sites, neighbored by overpriced world class beaches and resorts.

While Dubai might become a world-class city, its marathon surely is not. The course was boring, the crowd was sparse, and was made up entirely of expatriates, so learning about the locals was impossible--if they can be bothered to run at all. I could be biased again, since even by mile 3, every step was excruciating and I spent the last 15 miles half walking, a quarter running, and a quarter vomiting. Five longer hours later I arrived at the finish line with a sunburn (did I mention it was the middle of their winter?), and I hadn't even seen the Burj al Arab (only 7 star hotel in the world) yet, which I considered to be Dubai's quintessential landmark. I realized one reason marathoners take up the "marathon-travel- destination" attitude. Some travelers like seeing sights from a bus, some from a local guide, and we like to see them on the run. I had now visited more than half a dozen countries sightseeing in this manner--running over the Swiss Alps, alongside the pyramids of Giza, across the Sydney Harbour Bridge viewing the Opera House, from Marathon and into the ancient Olympic stadium--but Dubai offered nothing of the like. I realized later that this pain actually gave me a renewed sense of accomplishment. Running the marathon had become old hat to me; now, I was reminded of the pain I endured during my first marathon, and my respect for the first time marathoners grew even more.

After arriving in Dubai with the flu and running the marathon the next day in the 90 degree heat, I spent a couple days on the couch recuperating and seeing the museums and beaches. From what the "locals" told me, all there really was for me to do was shop, go clubbing, and lay on the beach. Doesn't sound too bad, I guess--if you're on vacation--but I was somewhat disappointed at the lack of Arab culture. Arabic is an official language, but you can't speak it with anyone on the street because odds are if they don't speak English, then their native tongue is Hindi or Tamel. It was also a bit depressing because with high quality and tourists come high prices. But, I made the most out of it, went to the beach and relaxed by the Burj Al Arab, went out once or twice to bars, and hit the Dubai Shopping Festival hardcore. I'm definitely looking forward to going back there with friends sometime, but take my advice and don't go there alone looking to make the random friend.

While my trips to Denmark and Dubai weren't necessarily my lifelong dreams, I found them to be invaluable experiences. I discovered not only aspects of the marathon I had never thought of before, but also was beginning to discover motivations inside myself as to why I enjoyed the sport, sparked by displeasure, others' stories, friendships, as well as the occasional masochistic tendencies I might share with runners and might even enjoy. But I shouldn't be embarrassed. Next time you are pushing past mile 20, I'd like to ask you whether, deep down, you're not enjoying the last six miles as well--just a little.