Three Distances by Ha Long Bay: What Gets Counted, What Gets Left Out

On 11 October 2026, a coastal road beside Ha Long Bay will be cordoned off. Three distances: 3 km, 10 km, 21 km. There is no 42.195 km. The word "Marathon" will still be on the banner. Fifteen thousand Bibs are being distributed by QR code through the Quang Ninh Department of Culture and Sports, and the programme closes when the Bibs run out. Mr Nguyen Tri, General Director of DHA Vietnam, is the only person named in the release. No athletes. No performances. Forty-five years at the keyboard taught me that this kind of release tells you about an event, but it does not tell you about the runners. And when runners are not named, women runners are the easiest to lose.

The event's full name: Global Gate Ha Long ESG++ Marathon 2026 – Run for Net Zero. The venue is Vinhomes Global Gate Ha Long, a project of more than 6,200 hectares developed by Vingroup, on Ha Long Bay – a UNESCO World Heritage natural site. The organiser is DHA Vietnam, which runs the "Heritage Races" system and owns a road race that has achieved World Athletics Label Road Race status. The organiser describes the route as flat, wide, with few bends and controlled traffic. Alongside the three main distances there are a music night, family games and a fireworks display.

The messaging has three parts: "Running among wonders – Reaching records – Run for Net Zero". In the second part, the organiser says the route "creates favourable conditions for conquering personal records". In the third, the event is tied to the ISO 37125 urban sustainability standard and Vietnam's Net Zero commitment to 2050. That is the foundation needed to read the rest: a mass-participation running event placed inside a green communications frame, attached to a real-estate project and a tourist destination.

Start with the word "Marathon". Technically, a marathon is 42.195 km. This event does not have that distance. Using "Marathon" for a race with only 3 km, 10 km and 21 km is a common naming convention in Asian mass-running circuits, not a statement of official distance. But runners register believing they are entering a marathon, and only when they collect their Bib do they find that 21 km is the longest distance.

21 km is a half marathon – 21.0975 km, the longest distance on offer. For performances at this distance to be recognised as records, the course must be measured and certified to AIMS or World Athletics standards. The release mentions no certification at all. The organiser says the route is flat, wide and has few bends – which genuinely helps runners go fast. But a coastal route also means wind. Crosswinds and headwinds on a bay-side promontory are a variable the release does not address with a single word, while at the same time promoting the course as "favourable for conquering records". Those two claims do not match.

The only thing quantified anywhere in the release is the number of runners: 15,000. And that is the only "record" mentioned – a record for the largest number of athletes. A logistics record is not a performance record, and swapping one for the other is the most familiar manoeuvre in sports communications. In my own files, I have never seen a Vietnamese record authority named to confirm that figure of 15,000. It is a target, not a result.

I have a habit of counting. In 2026, when male colleagues in Nairobi still treated statistical analysis as a triviality, I went through the Kenya Women's Premier League tables and found Mercy Achieng, a 19-year-old midfielder with an 87% pass-completion rate – the best in the league – who had never been called up. Three months later she scored on her debut against Tanzania, then moved to Sweden for a record fee for Kenyan women's football. When numbers know how to say a name, the whole pitch has to listen. At Ha Long this time, what is being counted is Bibs, not strides. There is no entry list, no prize purse disclosed, no selection place on the table. This is a product of the participation economy, not a fixture of the competitive system.

Within that participation economy, where are the women? There is a 3 km distance promoted as a family distance. There are running shirts printed with "Run for Net Zero". There is a music night and family games. These things genuinely pull women and girls onto a start line for the first time. But not one line separates out the number of women runners, the number of shirts issued in women's sizes, or the records of the women's categories. The small girl with the old shoes does not appear in the report, but I have seen her in every number. She is the first to lose her trace when the report only gives a total.

The organiser's most credible asset lies in a different race. DHA Vietnam owns a road race that has achieved World Athletics Label Road Race status. That credential is real, but it belongs to another event, not to this one. This is a portfolio halo effect: credibility measured elsewhere is used to vouch for a newly launched event that holds no certification. The analyst has to separate the proven asset from the freshly launched one.

What is seldom said: the real product of this course is not on the course. It is in the more than 6,200-hectare urban area behind the start line. A 15,000-runner race is a way of bringing visitors to a place, letting them run through a landscape, take photographs, and leave with a memory attached to a project's name. Marginal revenue concentrates in tourism, retail and real-estate brand value, not in performance. That is not a bad thing. It just needs to be called by its right name.

11 October is also a choice worth looking at squarely. Quang Ninh sits at the tail end of the Northwest Pacific typhoon season, and in September 2026 Typhoon Yagi caused severe damage across northern Vietnam, including the Ha Long area. An outdoor coastal event in October that discloses no weather contingency plan, no postponement date and no refund policy is a significant gap. With 15,000 runners, the medical plan and aid stations also need to be published, not merely promised as an "experienced expert team".

The sports world always wants to rank. I only want to understand why they run, why they cry. At 61, I have learned that sport never grows old; only the way we look at it wears thin. So I will wait to see whether the 21 km course is measured and certified before race day, wait to see whether the numbers separate out women runners, and wait to see whether 42.195 km appears in the second edition. A mass-participation race can be the first door that brings thousands of Vietnamese women into sport – provided somebody is willing to count them.