Wednesday, October 18, 2017

It was dark in the park


It was dark in the park,

Goes the snark remark.

Today’s runner tried to be quick off the mark,

But with the dark so stark,

He’d been better off to disembark.

Sunday, October 15, 2017

Running in Iberia

Madrid


It’s dark in the park. But only just parts of it. Time to move back to the lighter sections. This experience here in Retiro Park is not at all like the one I had in Casa de Campo park ten years ago. This park is smaller, but it’s still large enough to get some miles in; I do a few large loops of a couple miles for an overall total of eight. And this park, unlike that other one with prostitutes in the trees (you’ll have to reference my previous blog post), has almost no other people in these early morning hours.


Here’s another version of my usual answer to the question, “What do you think about when you run?” The usual answer is, I think about running. That’s partially the case today as well. But on this first run in Iberia, there are all sorts of random thoughts bouncing around between my ears. Thoughts such as, “where am I now?”, “was that a voice?”, and, “what are we doing later today?” Mostly though, I think about my running goals for these next three weeks here in Iberia.


Having completed most of my important races for the year (only Buckeye Woods remains), I won’t at all mind taking the running easy for this trip. Of course that’s what I’m doing now, but I also anticipate doing so for most all of my upcoming runs here. I do, however, decide to try to run at every location. That’s not to say every day, but nearly so. It will be tough, since we are on the move so much. Most locations are just for one night, although some are for two, and only the Lisbon hotel will be more.




Sevilla


I am concerned about getting lost in this jumble of medieval streets, so I mostly stick to the main roads, and reference my printed Google map often. I learn right away to avoid the bike lanes at all costs. I try to get into some of the city parks, thinking they may be as wonderfully runnable as Retiro was. They’re locked up tighter than drums. I could probably try to sneak in, like I do at the Brunswick Track... but I don’t.


Second choice is the river. I have often found several paths along rivers in Europe, and this one, the Guadalquiver, does not disappoint.


Things are fine except that several sections are covered by cobblestones. No doubt these were placed here by the ancient Romans, or possibly later peoples such as Visigoths or Moors. No matter, they’re not designed for Danny Boy and his Brooks Ghost Nines. This causes me to slow down even more than before, if that’s at all possible. This increased slowness, in turn, causes me to turn back. We wouldn’t want Debbie to worry.




Granada


This Is turning out to be a really nice run. Once again, I have navigated to, and run along a river. Once again, it’s proven a good choice, after all the fear and loathing I had been doing about getting lost. So much so, that I’m carrying two maps along with my room key. These particular cheap-o shorts, throw-aways that I will wind up trying to keep after all, have no pockets. I also have a headlamp that I need to be able to read the maps.


My fear had at least some basis: we’d walked the jumble of narrow, twisted streets of Granada yesterday, and it seemed impossible not to get lost.


The dirt paths along the river are lovely, even though it’s still dark. Along with my headlamp, there is some lighting to help with the footing and navigation. Thus regarding my quest to run at every location possible during this journey, all is good. But here is what I should have feared and loathed about: slow-disease. I am only barely moving faster than a brisk walk. In fact, this is working out to be my slowest, and therefore shortest runs yet. One of these days I’ll need to get serious about this running stuff. But today is not that day.




Valencia


This one is shaping up to be my best run so far, in just about every aspect. Valencia re-routed its river away from the city to eliminate the risk of flooding, and they re-purposed the riverbed area as a long city park. So once more, I’m running along a river, although this time it’s a river sans water.


The width of the park varies, but it’s probably never more than a half-mile wide. But it sure is long. And long is just what the doctor ordered. Getting started around 4:30, not having to worry about getting lost, traffic, bad footing, darkness (it’s well-lit), etc., all add up to a goal of at least ten miles for the day.


Having decided to run out on one side of the riverbed and back on the other, I had hit the turnaround, where I think the park finally ended, at a little over five miles. This was perfect. Now after going out on the eastern edge, I had been trying to return on the western side. But I get re-routed just a little and wind up on some of the middle paths. Here I find a dirt trail that suits me.


The lighting is a bit different - small up-lights vs the overheard ones that illuminate the other trails. I am starting to see other runners now that it’s nearing the 6:00 am hour. I notice a 2 km marking, and then others every 100 meters. It’s a trail marked specifically for runners, and I follow it all the way to the 5 km finish. This is extremely cool!


I’m not done yet, however. I have a couple more miles before I get back to my hotel. I finally pick up the pace a little, making this not only my farthest and most enjoyable, but also my fastest run. Ten miles. You can’t go farther than that.


Barcelona


The streets are filled with people. Not what you would expect at 6:00 am on a Saturday. But then, this is Spain. The problem of the day is not the people and the busy city streets. It’s that there’s no destination. For each of my other runs so far, I’ve managed to find a river or a park where I could run in peace. Such is not the case today.


But I knew that. I’d had low expectations going in, and I’m now reaping what I’d sewed. I go up to, and then out and back on Avinguda Diagonal, the main drag through town. I don’t feel threatened by all the young people, although a couple do remark on my presence (I think it was of a positive nature).


This winds up as just two easy miles today. It will also wrap up my running in Spain. On to Portugal!




Lisbon


1) I hate running here. Don’t get me wrong. I love Portugal in general, and Lisbon in particular, in lots of ways. But running isn’t one of them. It’s all cobblestones; they’re impossible to avoid. And now I’m hopelessly lost.


It shouldn’t have been that difficult; I only wanted to head over from the Marriott into the main downtown area. It’s a couple miles, and I have walked it in my previous visits to this place. But today is not a great running day. Besides being lost and afraid of tripping, I now have a cold as well. Probably caught it from a fellow traveler. Somehow I find my way back this first day.


2) I love running here. I had headed out the other direction – north instead of south - and the memories came back. This is where I used to run most of my miles whilst working here. There are universities and hospitals around here, and there’s a running trail through a university athletic area and park. It’s about ¾ mile – I do one circuit before heading back, but I will return!


3) I love running here. I know I said this yesterday, but I mean it even more-so this time. I am running in the same park, and I am re-discovering other routes around and through the place. There are more soft dirt trails, and plenty of variety. There is some lighting, but even so, it’s a good thing I have my headlamp. I figure that it’s about a 1.7 mile circuit at the most. After a few of those, I start around a smaller circular course more in the interior. A little under a half-mile in length, it goes around a stadium, and it’s on roads. It’s just beginning to get light out, and other runners are beginning to do this shorter route (they are starting to run the dirt trails as well). Some of these other runners are pretty darn fast. I pick it up here as well. It’s good to finish this ten-miler feeling strong.


4) I kinda like running here. Since I am now staying at a different Lisbon hotel, I’m in a different park: scenic, even in the dark, Parque Eduardo VII. It’s actually fine, except for the cobblestones. Did I mention that there are 17 billion cobblestones in Lisbon? And that I’ve stepped on nearly 28.3% of them? And that I haven’t tripped yet? And if that don’t jinx me, nothing will. The biggest problem with today’s run, however, isn’t the cobblestones. It’s me. I’m just too darn tired to run more than four miles. And of course I am, once again, out of time.


I had apparently missed the Madrid Marathon whilst we were there doing other things. Now in Lisbon, we actually witnessed a 10K run that was going on in the Belem area while were touring that area. I sure would have liked to participate in these events, mostly for the opportunity to experience something unique.




The Algarve


It occurs to me that if something would go very wrong during this run, I’d have a great deal of trouble describing where I am staying. I don’t even know the name of the town that I started in (I later finally get it into my head – it’s Armacao de Pera). The other bad thing that could happen, as I run down this dark, narrow road, is for some Brit who’s only half awake such that he’s driving on the left, to hit me from behind. This area is where a whole lot of Brits and Europeans go on beach holidays, and the beaches are quite lovely here.


Luckily, neither bad thing does indeed occur. I find an even more narrow road to run down, and end up making a loop around a camping area. I also run on the beach a little. Once again, I wind up enjoying this run a whole lot.


I would like to do more. Too bad I run out of time. Again.
Running on the beach in the Algarve





Evora


The cathedral again? How can I possibly be this completely lost in such a relatively small and compact walled city? Why o why can’t I find the main square, from which I would be able to easily navigate back to the hotel?


Yes, I must admit it. I’m as lost as lost can be. I had started, key, map and flashlight in hand, with honest intentions: the thought of getting outside the walled city and its complicated cobblestone roads, and back, as fast as possible. By now you know this hasn’t worked out so well. There were cobblestones outside the city walls as well as inside. Worse, it wasn’t entirely clear in my muddled brain what was inside versus outside said walls. In fact, I wasn’t sure at all whether I was inside or outside the walled city. I had wandered a lot, and eventually found myself back inside said walls.


That part was okay. By then, I’d gotten a couple miles in, and it was time to head back anyway. Too bad the fun was only just beginning. Now I keep finding myself back at this darned cathedral, from which I keep trying different roads to take me away. At one point, I travel all the way back outside the city, thinking once again that I can then navigate all the way around on the outside. No luck there either.


I had asked a couple people – it was now getting later in the morning, so they were beginning to wake up – for help, but as much as they tried, the communication barriers were too great. The map only made things worse.


What’s the danger, you ask? I check my watch. It’s 6:52. Debbie is by now becoming extremely anxious, sitting in the room awaiting my return. I’d said 6:30, and it will soon (at 7:00) be time to get our bags out and go to breakfast. The worst case scenario would be that of missing the 8:00am bus, and thus being stuck in Evora forever.


I run down for one more loop around and through and back. Back to the cathedral. Back with still no sign at all of the main square, with it’s way to Hotel Mar de Ar. I stop to ask an elderly couple for some directions. I hesitate, because none of the others had been able to help at all. There is more communication and miscommunication, but they wind up actually walking with me up and down the streets, to the main square.


Eventually we do arrive at the square. I can’t figure out how it was that I couldn’t find it before. I thank the couple profusely with multiple obigados, and then run the rest of the way down to the Mar de Ar. I get back around 7:15, and Debbie had indeed been worried, but she also had everything packed up and ready for us to go. I had been out since around 5:45, but only got around five miles in.
Extremely Lost in Evora




Viseu


You won’t believe this, but I’ll tell you anyway. I’m lost. Again. This time, I’m in the early morning darkness, running on cobblestones in a medieval, walled city with narrow, winding streets. I know. This sounds much like yesterday’s debacle. But it’s today’s as well.


I hadn’t planned on going very far today. Of course, I hadn’t planned on it yesterday, either. This time, things do work out a bit differently, however. I emerge from some narrow, winding, cobblestone street, only to find…….. my hotel!! Of all things. And right where I left it.




Porto


I am not lost. I may indeed have a problem getting back to the hotel, but I’m not lost. Not one bit. I know exactly where I am. Exactly.


And furthermore, I know where I started. So, let’s summarize. I know where I am now. I know where I started. I just don’t have the slightest idea how it transpired that I arrived from there to here, or how to get back. Here, by the way, is under the famous Eiffel bridge here in Porto. And this is precisely where I did want to run today, since it’s by the river (alert readers will note that I like rivers for their navigational assistance), and also has fewer cobblestones.



And then a miracle occurs. I manage to retrace my steps, and arrive back at the hotel without further mishap. It’s amazing. 
The bridge in Porto



Figueira da Foz


I am not lost, but I have no inkling what city I'm in. You can read it just above this sentence because I am able to look it up when I return. The reason I'm not lost is that we've finally gotten to a place that's easy to navigate. Keep the Atlantic Ocean on my right-hand side going out, and on my left when I return. I can handle this.


And yet, with the heavy fog (I could only see a couple feet in front of me), I do somehow manage to get away from the ocean.  I didn't think I turned, and the bike and walking paths had appeared to go straight.  I know I've gotten away because I'm suddenly running under a huge and high bridge that's perpendicular with my path. Assuming that it's not taking drivers all the way across the ocean, I must have trailed off. Will I find my way back this time?


I do. It's a pretty good run. And it's a good final one for the trip.


I did manage to run at every location. Each one was extremely slow, but at least memorable.


For more on this trip, see also my travel blog.