Yesterday morning I took part in the Reading Half Marathon. Safely ensconced back home, you may be blissfully unaware of this event, which wormed its way through the university campus. We entered via the Pepper Lane entrance, took a right through the various science buildings, then back up between Park House and Chemistry past Maths and taking a left just behind the Library up the hill, then a right and out via The Queen’s Drive. If you run, you should certainly consider the Reading Half Marathon before you leave the university.

Picture found online of runners running very close to the economics department during the half marathon
But what is a Half Marathon? It’s a LOT of people (estimates at around 16,000) running a relatively LONG way (13.1 miles, or 21.2 kilometers). It’s thus a huge logistical exercise, with many road closures all around the town, a huge number of volunteers to set up the facilities at the start and finish (lots of portaloos, and also dotted around the course). It’s also a great opportunity for sponsorship, with Garmin’s name dotted all over various parts of the course, and Lucozade handing out hundreds of thousands of bottles at numerous drinks stops around the course. Buses diverted from their usual Sunday morning activities to shuttle thousands of runners from the railway station and other focal points to the race start/finish, and so on. Photographers dotted around the route trying to get the best photos in order to convince runners to buy pictures of themselves, organisers handing out free T-shirts to “Finishers” replete with sponsoring company names, and the organisers trying to sell additional “technical” shirts sufficiently attractively that people part with their cash for them (I didn’t).
It’s thus a huge event, and occurs once a year during the Easter vacation. Other colleagues have run the race in the past, as have students. Did you? Is it macroeconomic? It’s hard to argue given the vast number of different markets referred to in the last paragraph that it’s microeconomic – there are huge co-ordination issues between these various different markets that come together each year for the event. But even though it’s macroeconomic, can we really learn anything that might help us to think about the things we learnt on Intro Macro last term?
Bit tenuous 🙂
Undoubtedly, but then I like making these kinds of tenuous links because even to determine they are tenuous, my students have to engage with the material…
I have tried this approach – or rather, I often think of examples on the fly that aren’t the best examples, and then say it’s a tenuous example, but something to think about…. and while it has the desired effect with some students, there are some who drink it up and regurgitate without the engagement, and then I have to mark it down because it’s tenuous 🙁
Yes that is always the risk…
An interesting economic question is why do runners pay quite a bit to compete in organised races like this that Jimmy took part in and the Cambridge half that I took part in when you could go out anytime and run 13.1 miles for free? That strikes me as a more interesting economics question!
Because it’s a different product?
And by the way, well done on the run. Very good time!
Thanks Rob, I was delighted with my time!
You had the pleasure of overtaking the 1:45 pacesetter I guess. In the Cambridge 1/2 I just saw him pass inexorably into the distance ahead of me from the half way mark onwards! Next year I am going to take him out!!
Haha, from about 8km until about 17 he was slightly ahead of me, and at about 16 seemed to be pulling ahead and I was starting to resign myself, but then I got ahead of him and didn’t see him again…
Ah but is it, fundamentally? You get a medal but that is worth nothing like the entrance fee. You get to run with a very large group of (mainly) strangers. Is it a crowd effect?!
By paying to take part, it encourages you to train for the event. So maybe it’s an investment (in your own fitness). It’s an asset too (given that you could in principle sell it to some else who could run in your name, even though it’s technically non-transferable) albeit with slightly unusual properties.
When it costs north of £40 for some of these races (even that much for the 10k Great Manchester Run!), it makes me step back a bit and think about what exactly I’m paying for. You clearly get something non-pecuniary since as you point out Rob, the medal and other freebies you get post-race do not sum up to the entrance fee. In the past, pre-GPS, you probably got the promise of someone accurately measuring your time, but with technology that aspect has mostly gone.
There’s definitely a crowd effect, being part of a “big” event and being able to feel smug about it afterwards, but in terms of acting as a device to encourage longer term running, I’m less sure – I wonder how many train for a big event, and then let things slip afterwards, compared to perhaps others who might run those kinds of distances on a regular basis anyhow and not take part in events…?
I suppose you also get cheered along the way etc, which is nice?
From a microeconomic perspective, surely it’s a commitment mechanism? You’ve paid the £40, now you have to run (and that’s good for health even if you let things slip afterward).
Personally I can’t stand running in crowds, so for me the crowd effect is disutility, but the stupid Fitbit is the commitment device 🙂
Yes, you’re right, the fitness band is the more continuous commitment device.
I’m in two minds about the big event aspect. It means you are pretty much guaranteed to start the race desperate for the toilet given the waiting around, and it can get claustrophobic. But I actually really loved the vibe of the big event on Sunday – I was told ahead of time that Reading was particularly good for this, and it was true – lots of bands playing live music along the way, and other fun oddities (man handing out prosecco at one drinks station). Some of those memories will keep me going for some time and I guess in some odd way are consumption benefits…
Now then. Brendan McCabe told me the best thing to drink during a marathon is a vodka and coke. Apparently he had his supporters by the roadside with them waiting for him as he ran past!
Yes, commitment mechanism – that was what I was trying to get at!!
I actually hate the cheering bit. I really don’t need people telling me how well I am doing and that it’s only 4 miles to go etc etc. it just makes me wish I was watching not running!!!
And the needing a pee at the start, then you see the queues for the portaloos and don’t bother and need to pee for the first few K’s.
At least in the Cambridge race the route went within about 400 metres of my house after about 8K so I knew I could just go home at that point if it was going badly!