Berlin Half Marathon unites runners for charity and city spirit
"My rage is her rage, her love is my love, her blood is my blood," Rosalia's voice hums in my ear as I walk down Reuterstraße. Then comes Björk's unmistakable voice—singing as a tiny bird in a video about Berghain.
As this dramatic track plays, I reach Flughafenstraße, where my friend E. is warming up for the Berlin Half Marathon. I know she's wearing the thin red jacket I gave her so she wouldn't freeze before the starting gun. In her voice note, she sounds excited and happy. I feel happy for her, too, and I remember standing in her place five years ago. Back then, it was she who convinced me to sign up for the race when we ran into each other on a jog. That year, I did a lot of things for the first time—and this was one of the most beautiful.
This year, E. is running the 21 kilometers for the sixth time to raise funds for Sea-Watch. Every year, she makes a special trip to Berlin for it, and for us, her friends, it's always a cherished spring tradition—the perfect excuse to reunite. If the weather's nice, we picnic on Tempelhofer Feld; if not, we gather at her place, in her kitchen or on her tiny balcony overlooking Neukölln.
E. is tired, but somehow still has the energy for another run. We cook for her, massage her legs, and happily listen to her marathon stories—she's our hero, the undisputed star of the day. The Rosalia song ends, but my thoughts stay with E., and in my mind, I'm running right beside her.
