We went to Paris in late-August. It was an end of the summer vacation, grabbing and clinging to the dwindling years of family travel with the Kid as she ages out of our happy trio.
“I want to run there.” She told me. “I’m packing my stuff.”
So, of course I packed my gear, too.
The Kid is new-ish to the sport, but she’s jumped in with both feets and has been training against a plan and running local races. How could I say no to a run through the City of Lights with my only child!
The Sunday morning of our trip I woke her up bright and early and we headed out. I had formulated a plan after a few days in the city and it was not simple. Our hotel, after all, was about three klicks from anything that screamed Paris. We needed to run by the tower or the river or something scenic. Our hotel was not “running close” to any of those things… but it was close to the train station and thus the metro.
We brought our phones, tapped through the subway turnstiles, and took a twenty minute ride on a nearly-vacant train that brought us to a station just out the side-gates of the Louvre museum …and so a five minute stroll from the banks of the Seine.
“Start here.” I told her, and we activated our watches in front of that big famous glass pyramid and we set out towards the river.
Running along the river in Paris has got to be some kind of bucket list item, right? I’ve done it twice now. Is that bragging? Uh… yeah.
We traced a path along the near-empty sidewalk on the north side of the river, snapping a few selfies (of course) and admiring the view. What a view! And when we got to the bridge with another fabulous view, this one of the tower, that tower—still over a klick away—we took more pics and then turned inland.
The second part of my plan for this adventure was less cohesive: the plan was to find a way back to the hotel on foot through the maze of the city. Paris is a bit of maze after all, streets going off at every angle, nary a straight line longer than a few hundred meters in any direction, narrow streets obscuring any sense of directionality for explorers like us. We crossed over the river-side road, ran north, traversed the Champs Elysees, took a photo at the Opera house, ignored alluring scents from nearby boulangeries wafting the aroma of fresh breads out their front doors, and so ducked and weaved ever onward towards where I had a vague idea our hotel was situated.
I admit. I stopped frequently, squinting at the screen of my phone (without my glasses… I’d left them back in the hotel) to check our progress.
Six klicks, almost on the dot, we rang the front bell of our hotel and the guy at the desk who had watched us leave an hour earlier (with more than a bit of French skepticism) let us back inside the locked front doors.
Tired. Sweaty. And glad to be back… it might just be in the top three adventures of our trip. Travel running is definitely recommended.
Definitions
- august
- In the month of August where I live summer peaks and the days are often relatively hot (in the high 20s or low 30s) muggy, smokey and dry. Rain is infrequent, but when it arrives it comes in the form of drenching downpours and epic thunderstorms. We begin our runs earlier in the day because the local marathon runs late in the month and our training distances are maxing.
- klick
- As a Canadian I run in metric. As a writer, I find the word kilometre clunky and clinical. I'll usually use the colloquial "klick" or "klicks" to substitute in for this.
- race
- You train and train and train some more, and then for no clear reason you pay a bunch of money to run as fast as you possibly can at a very specific time with a bunch of strangers along a course lined with more strangers (or along paths lined with trees if you are an ultra runner) at the end of which you are handed a medal and a banana and a sense of achievement unlike anything you will feel again (until you sign up for your next one.)
- september
- The days are noticeably shorter when we realize that September is upon us. The post-summer routine kicks in and people are back to regular work schedules and kids are back in school. It can still be warm, but the hottest days are behind us and most of the biggest races of the year are in the rear view. We savour September knowing winter is too soon to come.
- the kid
- I'm father to a daughter who has often been mentioned in my writing. She's an adult now, but I'm still not going to dox her on this or any site. She'll remain as anonymous as I can make her and you shall only know her as "The Kid"
