Saturday, June 28, 2008

Paris to 23

Last weekend I was in Paris. Paola and I went to celebrate the longest day of the year. Each year on this day Paris throws a massive street party -- Fete de la musique. Bands are set up all over the city and the point is to stroll from one gig to the other, dance, drink beer, and just have fun. We did this many years ago, in 2001. That year it was raining hard, which must have stopped some people from going. We drank sangria and were on the streets, and by the end of the night were stomping in puddles and mud sliding in the grass in front of Les Invalides. This year, I barely managed to get myself home, we had so much fun. The weather was warm and people were everywhere. The later it got the more people were showing up it seems, either that or I was seeing double and counting X2 for every one.

On my long run the next day - don't even ask. It was terrible. I didn't get up and out of the house until 1pm. By then the sun was scorching Paris and it was awfully humid. I set off from Champs des Mars in the direction of Trocadero, passing by Passy. From there I headed for the Arc de Triomphe and up Rue Wagram. Next came Place de Clichy, passing Pere Lachaise, where apparently Morrison is buried, and after I made the awful ascent to Mt. Martre. What a mistake. The hill took the life out of me. By now I was already out of one water bottle, short on breath and no power in my legs. On the way down I could just keep myself from falling over. For all those watching and having their lunches at the brasseries, I was probably a comical sight. On top of it, I got lost, which just added to my misery. So miserable and only on mile 8. I had 12 more to go. I somehow made it to the Bourse, managing to avoid Les Halles. That was it. I couldn't do it anymore. I had no energy and even less will to keep my feet moving. Defeated I sat on a street corner, out of the sun, and sipped on whatever water I had left.

I eventually ended up running back to the Eiffel, but it was only an additional 3 miles. Disappointed, I thought no more running for me.

Training this week in Brussels was better. I was back on my pace and back to strength, with an easy mid-week 11 mile-run.

Today was a funky day and I spent it working. I'm trying to nail a deal and the numbers just don't want to add up. Finally at 8.30PM I was so tired of it I decided to go running. It was a nice 17 degree evening. Clear skies. Brussels is very empty on the weekends, which is nice for running. Running was exactly what I needed at the end of today and I just kept going, and going, and going. The route itself wasn't exciting but it was refreshing. I knocked down the speed a little -- I'm changing my running technique to save my knees -- which kept me fresh for what seemed like a long time. I finally hit a wall, and had to stop. This was 3h.10min later. I ran 23.1 miles -- 3 short of a full marathon. When I stopped my legs started feeling funny. This slowly turned into excruciating pain. My body went into a chill and I couldn't stop shivering. I eventually recovered in the shower under hot water, I think just in time to prevent Paola from calling the ambulance. :)

The next one is the full deal.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Post-Soviet running: Baku, Moscow, St. Petersburg

Baku is the capital of Azerbaijan, a new oil rich Caspian state. The city is being reborn. Everywhere you look there is construction staring you in the eyes. Azerbaijan is part of the European Neighborhood, and Baku in some ways, is the new east gates of Europe. It is the new energy center of the region and an alternative supplier for Europe.

Running in Baku is best if done in the morning, before the traffic picks up. 8AM is the cut off point. The drivers are ruthless and many of the cars are still the old Soviet types. The fumes they emit will give you a high – I don’t even want to think about what that means for the lungs.

I took off at 5.45AM from the Park Hyatt hotel for my 10 miles mid-week run. It was a quiet morning, like every morning in Baku. I went straight up Inshaatchilar Ave. (which is the street that goes slightly uphill from the hotel). From there I passed the Huseyn Javid Square and took Zahid Khalilov Str. to Matruat Ave. By now I was on the top of a hill, passing the AZTV headquarters. The view of the city underneath is fantastic. The day was just beginning, which made Baku seem quite innocent and soft, a major contrast to its daytime buzz. At some point I stumbled upon the Turkish Square, which is a nice park overlooking the Caspian Sea and Baku bay. A long set of stairs lead to Mehdi Huseyn St. From there you can connect with any of the perpendicular streets to end up at the Old City. I ran around it to Neftchilar Ave. This is Baku’s ocean beach drive. The sun was rising now. It was a perfect sunrise and I felt great. Basking in the sun, I thought about Europe and Azerbaijan. Integrating this strategic country into the EU makes so much sense on the one hand, but the prospect of this ever happening is so far away. Forgetting Azerbaijan would be a huge strategic blunder.

I made a u-turn at the Government House and tried to retrace my steps. It wasn’t a perfect go-back plan, but I managed to get to the hotel somehow – 11 miles later with a decent pace of 7.23 / mile. The next day I did the treadmill at the hotel gym and found out that my pedometer is off by half a K for every 10K. Frustrating.

Two days later we were in incredible Moscow. The city is flooded with glitter, hot cars, chicks in high-heels, and people generally looking good and feeling good. I set off running from my hotel on Tverskaya Street. I was looking for a comfortable 5 mile run; I returned 20 miles later, exhausted and dehydrated. At points I was so lost, I began to wonder whether I’d left Moscow city-center. I had no money on me to take a taxi and those that I asked for directions kept sending me in opposite ways. “Kuda Kremlin?” I would ask. People looked at me like I was crazy – maybe because I was running and sweaty and dirty; maybe because I was asking for directions to something that everyone knows where to find; or maybe because I was using Borut’s Russian speak, which really is more Croatian than Russian.

The fact that people were waiting for me to go to the Kremlin’s Armory museum kept me moving fast. In the end I did 19.80 miles in a little over 2h24min, with an average pace of 7.29m/h.

Making it through the museum was a nightmare after the run. My legs felt like they would explode, but I felt I owed it to Paola who was waiting for me at the hotel for over two hours. Anyhow, I ended up enjoying inspecting some of the treasures of the last Russian Czar and his family. The museum has an excellent armory room, with a collection from the Ottomans, Russians and Europeans armies. There is also a section displaying the famous Faberge eggs, which in their own right are impressive.

We met up with the Slovenian Ambassador that evening and his lovely wife, and together went to watch La Bayadere, a ballet performed by the Bolshoi. A masterpiece, and a must see, I think. The theater itself is less of a treat right now given that they are still renovating the main theater. After the performance we treated ourselves to a cocktail on the rooftop of the Ritz Carlton hotel. The view of the Kremlin is breathtaking. Well worth the experience (and the expense!). Standing there looking at the Red Square, on my second day in Moscow, I felt this was a country on the rise. The raw capitalism on display in Moscow is something I’ve never seen, anywhere. The country is getting richer and Russians are putting it on display. It’s a different Russia than I imagined.

The next day we found ourselves in St. Petersburg, a city of eternal sunshine during its month of summer. I set off for my Sunday 13 miles at 9.30PM. The sun was still high up, and had I not been on the running, I’d still be chilling in one of the street bars, drinking a cold beer and wearing my sunglasses. I took off from my hotel next to the Kazan Cathedral towards the river, passing St. Isaac’s cathedral. Once at the river, I turned left and crossed the last bridge over. The run on the other side was less inspiring. It was mostly through residential parts of St. Petersburg. On the way back I passed the fortress of Peter the Great, the Hermitage museum, and the Palace Square. I made it back to the hotel just after passing the Church of the Savior on the Spilled Blood. I managed an average speed of 7.11 minutes/mile.

The energy of St. Petersburg seems eternal, and so do the tourists that crowd the streets. The last part can be a bit annoying, frankly. The food is excellent at Terrassa, a rooftop restaurant above Vanity store – everything with salmon and caviar was delicious. For a true Petersburg experience you must treat yourself to a beer from one of the street vendors. The locals sip it 24/7- I guess it’s a way of getting through the insomnia inducing white nights.

Sunday, June 8, 2008

Istanbul

Running up the left bank of the Bosporus, in the direction of the Black Sea, you are on the fringe of Europe. Across the canal is Asia, and the two halves of Istanbul -- European and Asian sides -- are connected with nothing more than two suspension bridges.

As I was getting ready to depart for my week's long run, I though great, I'm in Istanbul, one of my favorite cities. Like New York, Istanbul is a city that never sleeps and is always crowded. There is no way to run the city streets -- which is well worth it -- unless you can get out of bed early, at 5AM so that you can hit the streets by 5.30.

I took off on Saturday morning from hotel Anemon, which is next door to Galata Kulesi. Turning up the street I connected with Istiklal -- during the day and at night this is Istanbul's busiest pedestrian street. When I got to Taksim square, I turned, passing the Galatsaray football stadium. Connecting with Dolmabache (this turns into Besiktas) I continued running north, towards the Black Sea. The run through this area is awesome. You pass the Dolmabache Palace and a collection of pictures of Ataturk. The Domabache Palace itself is an impressive structure with walls stretching for almost a full kilometer.

By now I was enjoying my run. When I crossed under the first suspension bridge the road narrowed and connected with the waterfront. Alone amongst the fishermen and the street dogs, I was probably the only one out there for recreation. The street dogs were a problem earlier in the run -- one kept running circles around me, bumping into my legs, crossing the street when I would. For a while the dog was frustrating me, but eventually, I let it go, and he got tired of running next to me.

By 6.30 I'd been on the road for an hour. I was very thirsty because of the humidity and the hot air, and I needed an energy boost. I drank my water and sipped my energy gel.

Having restocked on electrolytes, my legs started to give more push. I headed towards Bebek and the second suspension bridge, and from there to Tarabya -- a friend of mine lives here. I thought about stopping by to say hi, but it was early and she could still have been sleeping, and anyways, I didn't want to interrupt my effort to reach my 18-mile goal. I passed Tarabya. I was now running on Haydar Aliyev road. I reached Haydar Aliyev park soon after that. This was a good point to make my U-turn and head back towards Galata. Mile 18 came way before I was back at the hotel. I stopped running. My right knee was bothering me and I had no water left. I sat down to watch the fishermen do their thing. My gaze was fixed across the Bosporus on Asia. I was thinking about the European Union and Turkey's bid to join. I thought about borders.

I ran for 2h and 15min, at an average pace of 7.29 minutes per mile.

Thursday, June 5, 2008

Ljubljana running at pace

Yesterday I felt great. My journalist friend, an undercover marathoner, and I set off on a 10 mile run at about 7pm. We headed off in the direction of Roznik. About two miles into our run, we were hit by a downpour. At first it bothered me, but slowly the rain started to feel good on my face. It was helping me stay cool though I did worry about my wet sneakers, which were soaked and started to feel heavy. Adding weight to my feet put additional pressure on my knees, and my right knee started to hurt. It's been bothering me slightly still today. Coming off Roznik, we headed in the direction of the Mons hotel, and linked-up with the foot path that encircles Ljubljana -- the sign to look for is POT, which in Slovenian means path. We picked up our pace at mile 6. By mile 7 we were doing 7 minute-a-mile intervals. Well into the runner's high, we pushed harder. Unfortunatey my iPod-Nike pedometer stopped working; it was probably an issue with it being tucked into my shorts instead of gripped to my arm. Once we started heading back towards Ljubljana city center, my stomach was severely upset. I felt like throwing up. It was all the "student food" (a mix of nuts and raisins) I had 1h before the run, and the not-so-good slice of pizza. Eating so close to running doesn't work for me, especially when running at pace. But having company on the run made it easier to push through. It took me all night to get my stomach back in shape, and hydration became an issue as well - my stomach wouldn't allow anything in. I was even thinking of going to the ER to get one of those IV drips hooked up just so I could get hydrated. Instead, I went to my parent's house and went to sleep. I woke up today feeling a lot better and drank a full liter of water first thing in the morning.

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

Ljubljana magic

I normally don't run more than 5 miles on Tuesdays. Today I went running around Roznik, the five mile radius forest in the center of Ljubljana. Again, I started off achy. But the more I ran, the better I felt. Today at the office I was agitated and had a hard time focusing. Once I hit mile 5 I couldn't stop. I just wanted to keep on going. The more I ran, the easier it got, the more fun I had. From mile 6 to 10 it was pure pleasure. I had the runner's high. I clocked in at 1h 10min with an average pace of 7.07 per mile. At the end, I was left in a good mood, at least for that short while.

Monday, June 2, 2008

running in the capital of Europe

We flew into Brussels on Friday morning from New York, arriving early at 9am. The weather was typical Brussels - overcast. Except it was also a lot cooler than what we had in New York. Arriving in Brussels I had a few meetings. But business is slower nowadays, which could be due to the global economic slowdown, or I have gotten smarter and don't load my schedule each day with unnecessary meetings. I've become a big believer in doing things over email or teleconference whenever possible.

Lucky, Friday is my recovery day, so I didn't have to go running upon arriving in Brussels. I couldn't have. My legs were still sore from the Wednesday night run, which was a fast pace 11 mile run from my apartment in Chelsea New York along the West Highway, into the FiDi (financial district) and over the Brooklyn Bridge. My good friend and college roommate Will H. Chancellor joined me. His name is so freaking British -- I'll let you all guess what the H stands for -- but the kid is prime time Texas bread. Don't hold it against him; he's a great guy, and will soon be a famous writer.

Running across the Brooklyn bridge was awesome. First, the bridge is older than my great grandfather. Built in 1883, the bridge is one of the oldest suspension bridges in the US, connecting Manhattan on the east side with Brooklyn. It's one of the major traffic links for New Yorkers commuting in and out of Manhattan. The bridge is double layered, and it has a pedestrian section that passes through its middle. This makes it possible and pleasant to cross, except when you are walking or running across it, watch out for the bikers. They share the same section as the pedestrians, and they make it their business to try to run-over as many airy tourists as possible. I almost got nailed by a biker the other day. I didn't see him coming through the crowd but I did hear him screaming, move asshole. Part of living in New York is that scenes like this are standard daily experiences. You just get used to it and you roll with it.

Once you get over to the Brooklyn side of the bridge, a floor sign at the the foot of the bridge reads "Welcome to Brooklyn." There's no such sign on the Manhattan side, but this is the point. Brooklyn is patriotic.

Back in Brussels, the city dynamic is very different. The atmosphere feels sleepy, old and a bit uptight. It doesn't have the hustle and the buzz of New York. I woke up late on Sunday - much later than I wanted to for my long run. Our Brussels apartment/office is on Rue Gachard, which is just of Avenue Louise and a few blocks from Place Flagey . Place Flagey is a great area, with a lot of open plaza space, a number of great little restaurants -- we ate on Saturday at Aglio e Olio, an Italian prima cucina, which I highly recommend if you're half as crazy about pasta as I am. Their linguini con vongole is superb, and the house wine is great too. Go for the red. Flagey also has a lot of good beer stalls, but these are almost everywhere in Brussels, which is something I love about the city -- the excellent beer. Any bar you're in, order a blanche, you can't miss.

I set off for my 17 mile run (that's about 27.37 KM) along the lakes of Ixelles. The lakes begin at the foot of Place Flagey and continue up for about a half a mile. The first thing I noticed was the Sunday farmers market which they had set-up. The crates full of strawberries and the bread loafs reminded me how hungry I was, forgetting to eat before leaving the apartment. From the lakes, I turned to the streets and headed up towards Avenue F. Roosevelt, and from there to the park Bois de la Cambre. Running in the park felt good. I was away from the cars, and everyone around me was doing something sporty. It made me feel better being out on this run, which started off quite bad. My legs felt heavy.

From the Bois de la Cambre I jogged back to the road, connecting with Avenue Delleur, which becomes Boulevard du Souverain. This took me in a long circle around the outskirts of Brussels. I passed a number of open markets, and ended up at the footsteps of Avenue de Tervueren, having passed park Woluwe. Avenue de Tervueren is close on Sundays to traffic. Pedestrians take it over. Kids running around, dogs jumping at your feet. You can buy fresh produce, ethnic products, toys, watch shows and eat sausages, frittes, and waffles. All is there, and beer, on Avenue de Tervueren. I thought, I should come here when I'm not running to enjoy the show.

Avenue de Tervueren falls into the Cinquantenaire park, passing under the Belgian Arc de Triomphe, from where I headed for the European Council -- the Schuman building which for the next month will still display on its front face the symbol of the Slovenian EU Presidency. Slovenia has for the past five months been in charge of the EU. Once I was at the Schuman building, it was only 1.5 miles back to Flagey. A lap around the lakes and the voice on my new iPod said -- congratulations, you've completed your longest run yet. It was Lance Armstrong's voice. I was proud. I did it in 2h 8 min at an average pace of 7.34 min/mile.

from Maryland to Virginia through DC

...another killer Sunday run is behind me now. It was hard getting up this morning thinking I have to run 15 miles (multiply this by 1.6 to get KM), especially since yesterday I ran 7M in the morning in New York and then another 4M in Washington DC just before we headed off for a wedding.

The wedding was slow but nice, and I was anyhow too busy adoring my wife in her amazing orange dress and thinking about the run.

I set off this morning at 9am from Bethesda, on the Georgetown trail, thinking what a nice change from running in Manhattan between buildings and yellow cabs, which are always ready to run you over if the opportunity presents itself. Life on the Manhattan streets is tough, and as my friend B said, ride the bike in the opposite direction from the traffic.

I can't quite figure out the taxis in New York. I'm from the Balkans and I know a few things about aggressive driving, but man, these guys are altogether on a different planet. I can only think of one other city where driving is aggressive -- try crossing a street in Baku, Azerbaijan.

Descending on the trail I hit the canal -- it's a small water shoulder of the Potomac river probably used to control water levels and prevent floods down lower in Georgetown -- at which point I turned to the right heading towards Georgetown and the Virginia bridge. I crossed the bridge into Virginia and continued along the Potomac river toward the Reagan National Airport. I really enjoy it for the planes taking off above my head. I'm obsessed with planes and have been since I was a kid, which is probably why I don't mind traveling so much. At some point, I crossed over another bridge which got me back into the DC area, setting me at the footstep of the Washington Monument. I turned left and passed in front of the White House. The street was closed off due to the Harley-Davidson gathering for the Memorial Day convention. I've never seen so many bikes, dudes in leather jackets, and chicks in jeans. It was a very American sight, but it had a cool look to it. Something that I love about the U.S. is the love for "cruising." Growing up in Abu Dhabi I too developed a love for driving.

Once I hit the Kennedy Center I knew I was almost done. From there it was a 10 minute run back into Georgetown where I met up with my wife, who did her own 8M run today. Most impressive. She's running so great; I never thought it.

I stopped at 16.43M (about 26.3KM), which I completed in just over 2h and 5min. Having crossed two States, Maryland and Virginia, and the District, Pao and I headed over for coffee/recovery session at the Slovenian Ambassador's residence. His terrace is the best place in Washington DC to have an Iced Latte on a Sunday afternoon, and if you need some recovery sports gels, be sure to stop by there.

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