The Spain run-down

Having just returned from a beautiful trip to Spain, I think I have finally learned how to correctly assess accommodation. If the directions to the accommodation include the phrases, “up the hill,” “keep going,” and “located right at the top,” and especially if they mention something about a 4WD being absolutely essential, then I should expect my running opportunities to be both limited and difficult.

To be fair, the point of this vacation wasn’t supposed to be about running, but I have a hard time sitting motionless for any longer than two or three days at a time. Fortunately for me, Zdenek and I were on our feet almost all of the time -- in fact, of 11 days, I think only three of them qualify as lazy lounging days. We arrived in Madrid, jetlagged and exhausted after barely catching more than a couple hours of shut-eye on the flight over (and Zdenek even less so due to the very rude passenger behind him who refused to let Zdenek recline his seat by even one inch). After a snooze in our hotel room, we hit the streets of Madrid to find them baking hot but remarkably clean. Three days and at least 15-18 miles of walking later, we had traversed most of the major sites by foot and were left thoroughly impressed by the vibrancy, architectural beauty, and spotlessness of the Spanish capital. We even managed a 5.5 mile run by completing two loops around Retiro Park -- Madrid’s answer to New York’s Central Park. It wasn’t quite as spacious as our favourite piece of home turf, but the lack of humidity more than made up for this.

Next we headed to Seville, at which point in the trip I wound up horribly sick and unable to find any pharmacist willing to dispense a single drug to me in my embarazada state. So I suffered through the 40+ degree heat by mostly staying inside my hotel room, feeling miserable, and making poor Zdenek’s life miserable, too (sorry, honey). We did manage to enjoy most of what this historic and charming city has to offer, though, including an excellent flamenco show in the birthplace of the dance itself.

Just as I was feeling a bit better, we headed to the Costa del Sol to hobnob with Europe’s rich and famous and see the surrounding areas (including Ronda and Granada -- I cannot recommend the latter highly enough). Here, we plunked down for six nights in a hillside villa overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. I did manage to run on four days during our stay in Marbella -- it was straight up and straight down in each direction, providing an excellent workout for my quads and butt irrespective of my slow speed. But similar to our stay in Costa Rica earlier in the year, I’m pretty sure that these accommodations were not situated with long, relaxing runs in mind.

For better or worse, though, I simply had to get out there as much as possible. I read Born to Run on this vacation, and if there was ever a book to inspire you to run far and frequently, this is it. (I even became moderately convinced of the merits of barefoot running, and I do intend to try out the shoeless approach -- or something approximating it -- very soon.) I was reminded that running is truly the healthiest and most natural thing we can ever do for our bodies and our minds, and that, indeed, we wouldn’t be here today had our ancestors not been endurance runners themselves. Every time I read even a few pages of this book, I was itching to put it down and change into my running shoes -- blazing sun, lingering sickness, and lazy Spanish days be dammed. (Next time, if I really intend on relaxing, I think I need to book accommodation even higher on the mountain or re-think my choice of vacation reading material.)

And after arriving back in NYC following more than 15 hours of travel, the first thing Zdenek and I did was change into our shorts and head out for a four mile run in Central Park. It was, after all, our final vacation day.