The Beijing Terry Fox Run - Don't Run - Run

About half an hour after I got back from the gym Saturday morning, my friend Jenson called and told me the 7K Beijing 2007 Terry Fox Run would begin across the street in Chaoyang Park in an hour - did I want to run? I was a little concerned that the combined effects of jet lag and and additional 4+ miles on top of the previous hour of exercise might really wipe me out, but I decided to join.

I'm glad I did not miss it. Of course, I wanted to see my friends after a couple of weeks out of town, and I support the Terry Fox Foundation's cause - raising money for cancer research in the name of Terry Fox, an amputee with bone cancer who attempted to run across Canada in the early 80s to raise awareness and money for the National Cancer Institute of Canada. On top of that, the event had some memorable aspects, including the biggest foreign celebrity in China and an militant announcer who told the runners not to run.

Arriving around 9:30, Jenson, Mark, Ti-Ying and I were happy to see we had not yet missed the 9 am warm-ups. Warm-ups, when they did begin, consisted of two small, wiry Chinese guys in tank tops rolling their heads and shoulders and making what someone described as kissing motions toward the sky. As we looked around at the many people gathered for the event - alarmingly few actually dressed in running clothes, or even sneakers - we commented that 7K was an unusual distance for a run.

We also couldn't help scratching our heads a bit about the the dancers, who were dressed in traditional Chinese costumes but performing an odd, sort of neo-modern, jerky rowing motion back and forth across the stage. As they gave way to dancers dressed in nurse costumes singing, 'Thank you," then Beijing city officials, then the Canadian Ambassador, we knew we must be approaching starting time.

Of course, no Canadian-sponsored event in China would be complete without Da Shan, and we were not disappointed. Da Shan, for the unititiated, is simultaneously a symbol of friendship, hope, and unmitigated hatred for foreigners studying in China. Da Shan, whose Chinese name means "Big Mountain," is a Canadian named Mark Roswell who began studying Chinese in Beijing in the late 80s, when there weren't many foreigners running around. At some point, he ended up on a TV show - not an uncommon even for Chinese speaking foreigners, who were considered highly amusing novelties well into the 90s - and became noted for his particularly good Mandarin.

As he continued to study Chinese and began learning traditional Chinese performance arts, Da Shan continued to get invited for appearances and shows, until all of China knew of Da Shan, the foreigner who speaks Chinese better than many natives, knows classical Chinese, reads poetry, and builds bridges between Canada and China. He's been in Chinese TV programs and movies and has his own Chinese learning TV show and web site, and he's plugged products from Chinese translators to Ford automobiles in China.

All this sounds delightful, unless you are unfortunate enough to be another foreigner studying Chinese here. Friendly Chinese making conversation always ask, "Do you know Da Shan?" (No, he's Canadian and much older than me.) "I mean, have you heard of Da Shan?" (Yes, about a million times...) "Your Chinese is good, but not as good as Da Shan." (Yes, I've heard that too.) "You can't really understand Chinese culture until you've learned classical Chinese like Da Shan. Da Shan can do xiangsheng [a traditional Chinese type of comedy routine involving very fast-spoken, quippy conversation among 2 or 3 performers with lots of puns and literary references], you probably don't know what xiangsheng is." (But I do! Sigh.)

Can you blame us other foreigners for making violent gestures whenever we hear his name? The following quote in the China Daily after Da Shan was appointed Canada's Olympic Attache to China didn't help his case with Americans, either:

When Chinese people see the red and white and 'there's a guy from Team Canada,' the image is, 'Oh, Dashan's on that team and they're our friends.' As opposed to the Americans.

As Da Shan introduced the run - given the prized role of speaking last on stage, even after the Canadian ambassador! - Mark noted that he would really like to catch up with Da Shan and give him a piece of his mind about that quote.

Finally, it was time for the race, which we knew because an announcer suddenly yelled in Chinese, "The Terry Fox 2007 Beijing Marathon of Hope begins now!" and not one, but two starters shot off guns. Excited but slightly confused runners looked right and left in front of the stage, not exactly sure which direction was the race course. They were saved by another announcer who quickly grabbed the microphone and yelled, "Don't run! Wait a minute! Don't run!"

Apparently, an enthusiastic rush of runners pouring across the starting line was not the chaotic image the organizers wanted associated with the Beijing Terry Fox run. The announcer then began listing groups of sponsors - universities, cancer-fighting organizations, companies, who may proceed across the starting line to the right, with their supporters behind the appropriate banner or flag.

We did not have a banner or flag, but we finally felt it would be OK for us to start on the loop through Chaoyang Park. We passed a variety of events occurring simultaneously with ours, including two weddings doing pictures and a couple of groups of Xinjiang-style dancer groups in multi-colored skirts and head-dresses. Unfortunately, it was a thick, dark gray day with light rain and palpable pollution in the air, probably not the best day for either an outdoor run or wedding pictures.

The course was a very simple loop, and we had been running for perhaps 20 minutes when Da Shan appeared by our side, chatting with a Chinese runner. A moment later, we found ourselves crossing the finish line. While one might expect celebrations and festivities at the end of a charity run, the plaza was surprisingly empty. We found almost no one there other than Mark, who had finished a few minutes in front of us. Mark confirmed with his GPS wristwatch that the run, advertised as 7K, had been only about 3.5 K, or 2.2 miles, and equally round number for a road race, I suppose.

With no fanfare, music, or even water at the finish line, there was nothing to do but head off for a nice brunch at Chef Too, which we did once Mark had taken the opportunity to talk to Da Shan. I don't want to steal Mark's thunder, so I will hold off on reporting that conversation to give him the opportunity to blog it on www.facethesun.org.