By Jessica Ward

“Why on earth would you want to run a marathon? And in a whale suit? You’ve got to be crazy.” In the spirit of International Women’s day last weekend, let’s dive in (pardon the pun).

On the 24th August 2024, the 39th edition of the annual Reykjavík Marathon was held in Iceland’s capital city. First started in 1984 by two young entrepreneurs as a way to attract tourists to Iceland, it is safe to say that they achieved their goal: the marathon attracts runners from around the world. A country known for its natural wonder, hidden elves and wool sweaters; when I think of Iceland, I remember the whales, the community and the endless running routes.

It was during a Whale Wise team meeting back in 2023, a cold London night and the team were brain storming possible Whale Wise event ideas. I suggested a whale marathon event… after all, how hard could it be? Running 26.2 miles in a whale suit, raising awareness on the modern threats to whales and raising money for our charity. Since that night, I tried to picture what sort of whale suit I might wear, as I would run along the Thames, oblivious to what was in store. I wondered whether I could actually make this happen. I am normally of the mindset that we should say yes to wild opportunities… if I hadn’t I would not have joined the Whale Wise team in the first place, so I entered the marathon and soon after, created a 16 week training plan. This would be my fourth marathon after running firstly Edinburgh, then Los Angeles and London. Reykavík however, would be my first in a whale suit. 

My training started whilst I was still at home in London, but most of my training took place in beautiful Húsavík: a town very close to my heart. Húsavík is the first place I ever lived in Iceland: it is where my career as a ‘whale girl’ began. I returned in May 2024 to work my second season as a whale watching guide, and to re-join the wholesome community of ocean lovers for my fourth consecutive year. For the next three months I spent my early mornings, late evenings and days off getting to know this gorgeous part of the world in a slightly different way than I had done so before. No longer returning home in the early hours from parties (this still did happen.. just a little less), skinny dipping in the hope that nobody else could see and sticking to my usual and comfortable 5k run routes up and around the lighthouse… I got to know each and every inch of the town and its surrounding areas, through long-distance running. I began to expertly juggle my work at sea with my running on land. Hopping off the boat, fueling with potatoes (Icelandic classics) and preparing for my next run. I would run along the coastline, following the whale watching boats that my friends were working on, imagining which humpback whales they were seeing. I would listen to podcasts, audiobooks and the same songs I would listen to to get drunk whilst I was at university. I had a lot of thinking time; something I really love about marathon training. Nights off work were spent cooking pasta, sipping wine and stretching. As well as teaching whale and ocean yoga, I set up a run club: each week we would re-define the phrase: run like a girl. We would continue to explore this beautiful corner of the world that we got to call our home away from home, chat about whales and sing and dance along the way. We ran through the town with rainbows for pride month, helped each other up hills and finished with a yoga class each week. The purest of happy moments; running free with no limits. I will always be grateful for this little run club, and for the community I was part of in Húsavík. I have met some truly inspirational women: too many to list. 

Let me tell you now that marathon training in Iceland hits different, in the best possible way. Some runs I would finish close to midnight, the midnight sun carrying my legs those last few miles. Others, I would be shin deep in snow. I had to get used to running on a treadmill, on the days where running outside seemed near impossible. But any chance I could, I would run outside and normally, I would not regret it… and most certainly, not forget it. I got to know the lake on the way up to Húsavík mountain like the back of my hand, often joined by friends and my girlfriend, Hollie. Some days, friends would set up camp with a water station, picnics and music, and cheer me on as I would pass them each 5km lap – oh how the little things in life can bring the most joy! And the scenery in Iceland – breath-taking! I know because I ran it. 

For anyone was has experienced Iceland, they will know that the weather changes faster than Paula Radcliffe (a marathon icon). On one particular weekend, I had the Sunday off, so my friend Carlota drove me 16 miles out of town. She asked me on the drive many times if I was sure that I wanted to do this. I reassured her. Waving goodbye to Carlota, I watched her drive away as I started my long run for that week. I figured that as opposed to running laps around the town, or up and around the mountain, this way I had only one choice: to get back home to Húsavík. On this run I kid you not, I faced more rain, hail and wind than the expression it’s raining cats and dogs. I was running slow, head down… it felt never ending. Just 7 miles in, I called Alberto (Carlota’s partner and my good friend). He drove to meet me on the side of the road, helped me undress and put on some fresh clothes in his car, warmed my hands and gave me waterproof gloves. Asking again and again if he could drive me home, I said no and continued my way up the windy and somewhat endless road. Every 20 minutes a truck or car would pass, many asking if they could take me anywhere. Albeit tempting, I would politely decline. Marathon training, like a lot of things, takes perseverance, and in return it has taught me so much. Looking back, this was the most difficult run, harder than the actual marathon in fact. I did make it home eventually… and spent the rest of the day warming up in the shower and baking a banana bread for Carlota and Alberto, as a thank you for their good friendship. I think as a result of this day, I have confirmed to them that I am in fact a little mad. 

Of course it isn’t always easy and training doesn’t always go to plan. After this 16 miler, being exposed to the rawest and harshest of Iceland’s elements, I did pick up a toe injury, probably from running on freezing feet in my barefoot trainers. My next week’s long run, I ran out and back to Alberto’s serene guesthouse around 9 miles from town. I felt my toe the entire run, had to take a long break and reflect whilst eating the cereal that Alberto had prepared for his guests. I decided that after the run was finished, I would take two weeks off running. My point is that, we do what we can whilst dealing with the hurdles that come our way. That is what makes a marathoner! Slowly but surely, my training was tapering down. Suddenly my training plan had many crosses, as I would cross each day in a black marker pen (a ritual I suppose). I had completed my most difficult run, taken time out, finished my longest run of 20 miles… it was time to practice the real challenge: running in a whale suit. Alyssa lent me her orca suit, in which I wrote: JESSICA the whale. Meet us, don’t eat us. I only practiced short runs in the suit, just to know how it felt, where I needed to alter and also where on my body might need extra anti-chafe balm (vaseline works wonders). Anyone who runs long distance will know that chafing is a regular first hurdle. I needed to be prepared. I didn’t feel the need to complete all of my training in the suit, partly due to embarrassment at the idea of bumping into my passengers from my day at sea (Húsavík is a small town) and also, I trusted that the adrenaline and the crowds from race day would carry me through. I wasn’t wrong.

Race day was epic. The final little box in the marathon training schedule, just one last box to cross; at this point, the majority of the work is done so you’ve got to embrace it and enjoy it. I was joined by my sisters, Lara and Pippa, who flew from London, and my girlfriend Hollie, who since we met has been subjected to a lot of running chat. Tom, Flo and Rebekka from the team had woken up at 4am during their field season, to drive down to Reykjavík from the westfjords. My friend and colleague from the whale watching season, Paulina, who joined me on almost all of my long runs, was a photographer at the event too. I ran like a whale, stopping every 5 miles or so to greet and be motivated by my supporters, and also to pick up a threat! During the race, the Whale Wise team were filming and adding threats to my whale costume using safety pins. The vision was that my marathon journey would reflect the challenges that whales face today. The threats were: micro plastics, ship strike, climate change, whale hunting, noise pollution and entanglement by fishing nets. The latter threat is the basis of our current project: Scars from Above. The crowds were ecstatic and the runners along the way were truly fantastic. For the last 10 miles, I ran with three policemen, who were running in uniform. We spoke a little, but in effort to conserve our energy, we ran side by side, exchanging a few words of encouragement as we edged closer and closer to the finish line. These words (spoken and unspoken) helped carry me through and it was such a pleasure to celebrate the finish with them. “If you are losing faith in human nature, go out and watch a marathon.” – Katherine Switzer. I truly support this statement.

I finished the marathon in 4hours53minutes28seconds, raising a total of £1,282 for Whale Wise to continue researching the humpback whales in Iceland, and raising awareness of the threats that whales face today as a result of human action. Though it can be easy to lose faith in human nature, as we perhaps lose sight of mother nature, the backing and support I received from donors and all the people I mentioned in this blog, is a beautiful reminder of compassion: compassion for the whales and the work that we do. Thank you so much to my amazing marathon support crew. I could not have done it without you. Running like a whale is definitely a team effort!

Historically, marathon running was considered a man’s sport. No surprises there. In 1967, Kathrine Switzer famously disguised her gender and became the first woman in the Boston Marathon. Before 1984, there was no women’s marathon category in the Olympics. This same year, Joan Benoit Samuelson won the Olympic marathon and still races today at the age of 62. We are still in the first generation of women’s distance runners, which has included countless women since. May women continue to break into spaces that were once for men only: with passion, strength and integrity. May women continue to pioneer in long distance running. My best friend Annie and I ran our first marathon together whilst in our second year of university. Now an Officer in the British Army, Annie told me that when she was very new in her career in the military, she asked some of the guys what they thought of women as infantry officers. Their response: chicks can do anything. Now years on, she is thriving in her field and proudly says that she wants to be defined by her competence in the army, rather than as a woman in the army. I hope that this is where the world is moving to… yes, women have had to move mountains to get to the same places as men, and they still are. Whilst this deserves acknowledgment and respect, women should be defined by their extraordinary skills, whether in sport, science or any other pursuits, and by being experts in their fields, not only as women in their fields.

A particular pioneer in this sport was Rebecca Cheptegei, a 33-year-old marathon runner and mother from Uganda. She had just last year finished 44th in the marathon at the Paris Olympics; excelling in the sporting world and exercising her rights earned by those females who ran before her. Just a month later, Rebecca Cheptegei was set on fire and killed by her ex-boyfriend. Her legacy will live on as an inspiring woman and Olympian who also financially helped other runners in her community. The end of her story is a devastating reminder of the prominence of gender-based violence in our world. May she rest in peace and not be forgotten.

One foot in front of the other. We will strive for positive change. May women run safely, may whales swim safely.

Girls, there are no limits in what you can do. Yes, maybe we are crazy, but in the best possible way. Run like a girl.