The last time I visited Copenhagen, my wife and I enjoyed a tasting menu at Noma and we walked the city in search of cafes, wine bars, breweries, ice cream, and pastries. We even joined locals for an afternoon of salsa dancing in a park. Back then, I ran only on trails and never could’ve imagined that 7 years and 2 children later I’d be back to run a road half marathon in the capital of hygge.
But then in mid-2026 I came across Aire Libre, an organization that offers global running experiences. I met up with their founder, and by the end of our conversation over coffee I decided to sign up for the Copenhagen Half. So the focus of my training switched to road, with track workouts, tempo runs, cadence tests, plus long runs that’d gauge my fitness and speed for the upcoming race.
After landing in CPH, and dropping off my luggage at my Nordhavn hotel, I took the metro and bus to Kaf. The cafe offers vegan pastries and sandwiches like the Mafalda—a grilled cheese croissant—that I had with an oak milk flat white. From there, I went to the race expo at the Forum to get my bib, t-shirt, and drop bag. Now I was all set. And it was getting pretty real, real fast.
This year, the Copenhagen Half Marathon was part of the World Athletics Road Running Championships, and the organizers did a great job with their messaging. Banners all around the city proclaimed: ”The best runners on the planet, and you.” About 35,000 runners from all over the world were here, seeking PBs (personal bests) on a flat and fast course around the city. And I was one of them.
I had two full days before race day get over a 9-hour-difference jet lag. My throat was bothering me and I felt congested, so I got cough syrup and lozenges at an apotek (pharmacy). Getting plenty of sleep was a top priority, but during the day I went on shakeout runs by the water, and explored the food trucks in Broens. But for my customary carb-loading pre-race pizza I went to SURT.
When I woke up Sunday morning, about 3 hours before heading to the start, I was ecstatic—I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy before a race! First, I had some bread with jam and cafe con leche. Then I did yoga and leg activation exercises. I gave myself words of encouragement and visualized crossing the finish line in 2 hours 11 minutes, or 10 minutes per mile pace.
Before leaving, I preloaded with Precision Fuel & Hydration 1500 mg sodium. Then, a short but crowded metro ride took me to the runner’s area, where I dropped off my bag and did warm-up strides for 15 minutes before heading to the start. It was such a large crowd of runners that and it took almost 30 minutes of shuffling in a queue before we crossed the start line and began racing.
From the first city blocks, the energy was electric. Taiko drummers. Samba dancers. A cappella singers. DJs. Live music. It was a party in the streets, and it was impossible not to feel elated. The whole course was lined with roaring crowds cheering you on, “You can do it, Nico!” I focused on a steady cadence and after the first sub-10 minute mile I knew it was going to be a good day.
I carried my PF&H gels and electrolytes in a belt and had them at the miles 3, 5, 7, and 10 water stations. There were cups strewn everywhere and the road was sticky from sugary drinks. On trails, I was used to wearing a vest with water bottles, but not here, so I had to slow down to pick up cups of water at road-side tables and drink on the go. It’s a skill I still need to work on.
About half way through, I felt a large blister on my left toe, but my ultra running mentality helped me ignore it. Each kilometer brought me closer to the finish, and I enjoyed every step, even if it hurt. On the exit of a neon-lit tunnel, a DJ was blasting one of my favorite songs, “Vale la Pena (It’s Worth It),” by Juan Luis Guerra y 440, and as I ran by I sang along and shouted to myself, “¡Vamos coño!”
Juan Luis Guerra is a musician from the Dominican Republic. And the story goes that the band adopted the name 440 after a great jam session one day. The singer said something like, “Today we were 440,” as in the perfect 440 Hz frequency of the La musical note. So I took it as a positive sign that a DJ playing a tune by 440 meant that I was having a near 440 race, even if it rained.
I crossed the finish line in 2 hours 11 minutes with a pace of 9 minutes and 57 seconds per mile—a road half marathon PB! The crowd at the finish was smiling, embracing, taking selfies and group photos. I was moved by one runner, who pushed a person on a 3-wheeled racing chair the entire race. Soaked from the rain, I proudly wore my WRRC medal on the metro ride back to the hotel.
More than the satisfaction of having accomplished my goal, I felt grateful that my body can still do hard things. I’ve loved running on trails for more than two decades, and rediscovering a joy for running—now on roads—is pretty special. The experience of racing here was one of a true collective energy, among the runners and with the people of the city that celebrated our journey.
The day after the race all I wanted to do was eat. So I took a ferry to Reffen just to try a plant-based Nordic hot dog. Then I found a cozy cafe to read my book, The Way of the Runner, a personal dive into the world of ekiden (relay) racing in Japan. It made me think a lot about why I run and the spirit of community. That evening I was the first person in line at POPL and devoured their quinoa burger.
Shortly after returning home, I got back to training. And I thought of a Zen proverb:
Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water;
after enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.
Which, paraphrased, could apply to running:
Before the race, get up early, go for a run;
after the race, get up early, go for a run.
I’ve also been listing to “Vale la Pena (It’s Worth It)” on repeat. 🎵
Wow, what an amazing experience! Thanks for sharing!