Running the Circuit
It wasn’t the New York Marathon, but the 10K race I ran in last week was big enough to attract star runners from all over Israel – even though there were no cash prizes for the winners. It was the first marathon I ever ran (even though I’ve been seriously jogging and running for nearly 10 years), and a great introduction into Israel’s running culture.

This is the third time the race I ran, called the Benaya Marathon (named after Benaya Rhein, who was killed in battle in Lebanon), has been run, and this year it attracted over 250 runners from around the country. While the first one was an ad hoc affair, where anyone who wanted to could run, the last two have been handled by a professional marathon management company, which gave all runners an electronic chip that recorded everything there was to know about the race – time, route, speed, pace, etc. Results were listed by age group, and about 15 minutes after the last runner crossed the finish line, the list of who came in what place was displayed, followed by the presentation of trophies to top runners in each category. It’s professionally run, but it does cost 50 shekels to register.
Never having run a marathon before, I treated the whole experience as an extended workout, running the 10K instead of doing my usual circuit on the treadmill. So, for me, the marathon was more of a “personal best” thing, and I was happy to beat the time I predicted I would make for the route. But there were quite a few competitive runners there, who apparently follow the circuit of mini-marathons, preparing for the “big ones” – the Jerusalem and Tel Aviv half-marathons (the latter had over 7,000 participants this year!), and the uber-race, the Tiberias Marathon, which follows a 40+ kilometer route around the southern Kinneret. That’s where the big money is – $25,000 for last year’s winner, Kenya’s Leonard Mucheru Maina, plus an additional $15,000 because he broke the course record. The winner of our race was David Raskai, a policeman who is a serious runner, having come in first in a raft of races over the past year. And yours truly? I’d rather not say – It’s a personal best thing, remember?
Papal baggage
Filed under: History and Culture, Politics, Religion, coexistence
Only two popes have ever visited Israel. In 1964, which was a good 29 years prior to the Vatican’s eventual recognition of Israel as a sovereign state, Pope Paul VI set foot in the Holy Land.
And in 2000, when a pre-intifada Israel seemed poised to position herself as the venue for ushering in a new Millennium of peace and tolerance, Pope John Paul II went on an inspirational whirlwind tour of the land. He held a mass for tens of thousands on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, met with dignitaries and religious leaders from many sectors and even made appearances at the Yad Vashem Holocaust museum and the Western Wall (pictured).
The Polish-bred, relatively reconciliatory and dovish pontiff made quite an impression, and many felt that the visit represented a landmark in global healing. As John Paul II said in a statement in Jerusalem,
“We know that real peace in the Middle East will come only as a result of mutual understanding and respect between all the peoples of the region: Jews, Christians and Muslims. In this perspective, my pilgrimage is a journey of hope, the hope that the twenty-first century will lead to a new solidarity among the peoples of the world, in the conviction that development, justice and peace will not be attained unless they are attained for all.”
Our Ministry of Foreign Affairs launched a highly comprehensive mini-site aimed at commemorating the occasion, with resources including an extended streaming commemorative video (link towards the top of the main page).
Ha’aretz recently announced that it had discovered plans for the current pontiff, Benedict XVI, to come to Israel this coming May (just a few weeks prior to Bob Dylan’s expected arrival), thanks to an invitation issued by President Shimon Peres.
Apparently the Vatican has yet to confirm Ha’aretz’s announcement, prompting many to wonder what the full story here may be. It might just be a case of bureaucracy needing to work itself out, but the complex context and baggage surrounding the controversial Benedict and his relationship with the Jews and their homeland are undeniable. In the meantime, news site eFluxMedia has done an impressive job of enumerating some of these factors….
[There's] an ongoing controversy over Vatican moves to elevate to sainthood the World War II-era pontiff Pius, who many Jews accuse of failing to speak out against the Nazi mass-murder of Jews, the Holocaust.
The German-born Benedict defended Pius when commemorating the 50th anniversary of his death this year. However, he has put Pius’ beatification – an important step towards sainthood – on hold.
Late last year the Vatican turned down an invitation by Peres to visit the Holy Land in 2008, citing a stall in long-standing negotiations with Israel.
The talks focus on taxation of church property and visas for Catholic clergy – issues that have marred Israel’s relations with the Holy See for decades.
Image courtesy escapedtowisconsin from Flickr under a Creative Commons license.
Riding the Kinneret
For cyclists in Israel, it’s one of the biggest events of the year – every November thousands of them descend on the Kinneret (the Sea of Galilee), to take part in the round-the-Kinneret ride.
We were planning to do it last year, but my husband – a mountain bike fanatic who likes to leap off large boulders and throw himself down steep hillsides – fell off his bike on a sedate family biking trip in Hiyarkon park and injured his knee.

This Saturday – barring any last minute falls – we’ll be setting off at 6.30am with the 10,000 or so cyclists expected to take part in this popular fall event.
I must admit, originally I was planning to take part in the 65 kilometer ride – right around the Kinneret, but I got cold feet when we drove there a week ago and I realized that the road, which always looked rather flat from the window of a car, was actually pretty hilly; and the other side of the Kinneret vanished threateningly into the haze, an alarmingly long distance away.

Still, I can’t make too much fuss, my 10-year-old is planning to do the long route with three of his friends, and a couple of parents more used to cycling long distances than I am (my idea of cycling these days mostly involves sitting on a spinning bike in an air-conditioned room for an hour with loud dance music and a teacher shouting encouragement.)
He’s either a great deal fitter than me, or he just can’t envision how hard it will be. I suspect the latter. I’ve warned him it will be hard. I’ve warned him he’ll be cycling for at least four hours. I’ve warned him that his butt will ache for days afterwards, and that the last 20km will be the hardest thing he’s ever done – but he won’t be swayed. Two of his friends did it last year and they’ve been boasting about it ever since. He may be 10, but it’s his manhood at stake.

We’re doing the 31 km ride, joined by my eight-year-old who is particularly interested in the medals they give out to all participants at the end (will it have a bicycle on mummy?), and my two and a half year old, who will travel in style in a pull-along buggy, milk, snacks and toys at an easily reachable distance.
It promises to be a beautiful day, and perhaps, after all the rain this week, the Kinneret will even be a little fuller. If any readers are taking part, do let me know – we can wave at one another as we go round.
First rains
It was the first rain yesterday. In Israel we take our rain seriously. My children were out there quick as a flash, dancing around the garden as if…, well as if they hadn’t seen rain for six months.
Their education in water conservation was immediately apparent. Every container they could find was pressed into use catching raindrops and run off water from the roof. When the rain stopped they began diligently watering all the pots.

It may have been short, and it was definitely filthy (the first rain always leaves you wiping down your windows, car, garden furniture, and the floor, if you unluckily left your window open), but yesterday’s rain was a welcome sight for everyone.

Last year’s dry, warm winter compounded three previous years of drought, leaving Israel facing its worst water crisis in years.
With the red line of the Galilee – Israel’s main reservoir of natural water – already breached, pumping looks as if its set to reach the black line, beyond which point many believe the damage to the lake is irreversible.
With the government seemingly doing little to reverse the crisis – even water rates haven’t gone up in price – we desperately need rain this year, and many will be hoping that Saturday’s early shower will be an indication of a rainy winter to come. Around Jerusalem at least, up to half an inch fell yesterday, while in Tel Aviv and other areas of the country, the rain was fairly light and drizzly, allowing the parched earth to absorb some of the run off.
No forecasters are willing to give any predictions of rainfall this winter, but the rain did set in motion one important yearly tradition, known and dreaded by parents – mostly mothers – everywhere: the autumn switch to winter clothes, an exhausting job that involves trailing through the dark recesses of children’s wardrobes, and boxes stashed under the bed.
Beresheet bumped up
Israelis love festivals. The Israel Festival is a five-week affair this year, currently in progress. Hardly a week goes by without some kind of event being dubbed as the next big festival, from the Cinema South Film Festival in Sderot, which wrapped up two weeks ago, to this past week’s kosher food extravaganza in Petach Tikva.
The most lively mainstream events on the annual festival calendar in recent years have been the big three hippie festivals, Boombamela, Shantipi and Beresheet, each taking place during a major Jewish holiday, times when the nation more or less goes on vacation. Intoxicating blends of new-age spirituality, corporate sponsorships, Eastern ethnic jams, family camping, teenybopper-friendly pop, nudism, all-night trance parties, beach living and even Carlebach-style Jewish outreach, the big three have drawn crowds in the tens of thousands since before the millennium.
But stretch marks have begun to show. Shantipi, the first one in the game, tried to reposition itself as less tween-oriented and more family-friendly in 2004, and when efforts were met with lower attendance, planners attempted and failed to backtrack on the move. Shantipi didn’t even take place this past Shavuot, earlier this month.
Even the most robust draw in recent years, Passover’s Boombamela, has seen a drop in attendance. “I reckon we’ll have twenty-five thousand or even thirty thousand people this year,” the festival’s artistic director Mathaus Waldorf told The Jerusalem Post’s Barry Davis a few months ago. It didn’t pan out. While something like 15,000 tickets were sold, a solid turnout by any means, it was a mere half of the load that planners had invested in infrastructure to accommodate. Plus, many of the revelers didn’t stay for the entire four-day shindig – the schoolteachers’ strike of the autumn had made for a shortened vacation from classes, and Hamas missiles falling in nearby Ashkelon surely inspired many parents to ask their children to come home early – lending the proceedings a feeling of emptiness.
The Beresheet festival, which started out ten years ago as a Rosh Hashanah production, has also attempted to rebrand itself as something bigger and longer in recent years, opting instead to take place during the longer holiday of Sukkot since 2004. Brought to you by the same production crew that organizes Boombamela, this year’s Beresheet is set to take place over three days starting on July 14 on the sores of the Sea of Galilee, a far safer bet in terms of minimizing school schedule conflicts and a somewhat safer bet in terms of minimizing the chances of a missile attack. The move might just mark a return to the millennial days of booming attendance, but the pre-commercialized purity of the early days will probably remain elusive.












