Signing Off

The end of my holiday is near for I will be back behind the scenes at SCH on Wednesday. Can't wait! I only have a few parting shots before I go. Firstly, buying my pair of Keens was a wise move. They are ideal for walking a city and are great through security check points so go get yourself a pair. Secondly, im glad I picked up my fine looking sport coat with the suede elbow pads. It gave me some credibility as I meandered the streets of Europe and also was handy as it contains good useful pockets. Lovely. Finally and most importantly, the half marathon was a success to say the least. Making it the focal point of the trip was a good idea and something I should probably look into doing again.

Overall the trip has been a success but I am looking forward to heaping bowls of ice cream and watching the old folks on The Golden Girls with my own set of old folks. I look forward to getting back into a running schedule. This venture has hardly gotten me out of shape of course. Honestly I don't know how anyone could get fat here unless they really put their mind to it. Anyway, I will return tommorrow a bit more aware of the world. Thanks for reading.

See ya in the States.

Au Voir Paris

I venture back to Belgium today and say goodbye to crepes and paninis and massive rushes of people at crosswalks. That makes me think. The worst crosswalk experience I had involved only me and a small Asian woman. The avenue was ours but while waiting for the light to change she sidled up to me like we were packing a subway train. I held my ground. I was not about to be bullied just because she had become accustomed to the habits of the masses in Hong Kong. But I digress. Paris has been good to me and I would return with plans to see many more things. I would utilize the bus system even more and perhaps even the metro. But nothing beats hoofing it in the streets.

Oops! Part 2

Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you I did have one casualty on this otherwise flawless expedition. After arriving back to my hotel from a 12 mile run I set my navy blue knit cap that was soaked with sweat on the rail that hangs out my fifth story window. Sure enough a gust of wind took it when I was out and about and it now lies several stories below in-between buildings in a place that is unreachable by humans. It was a good cap and it served me well and true. No tears were shed but I so emotionally charged upon this revelation that I did let out an expletive or five. Se la vie. I'll miss you blue cap.

Oops! I creped my pants!

I indulged in my first French Crepe today and it was super good. Beats Belgian waffles anyday. I ordered the crepe with chocolat and coco. That translates to a crepe with Nutella and coconut sprinkled inside. I cost me 4 euro but what makes it worse is that there was a crepe stand not 100 yards further offering them for half the price. Oh well.

I also visited my second running exposition in the last two weeks. It turns out Paris is hosting their own half marathon tomorrow. Had I been more atune to the goings-on here in France I would have planned accordingly and participated in both. This one had much better shirts too. Again, oh well.

My friend Phil, you know Phil from work, had the nerve to refer to Edith Piaf as a "Jezebel" in his comment to my last entry. I say this to my "friend" Phil. I don't know if she was or she wasn't but she had some pipes fella. I'm not even sure what that means anyway. I guess I'll ask your mother the next time we rendezvous.

I will travel back to Brussels by train tomorrow for I head back to reality on Monday. A good journey it has been Yoda might say. Can't stay in LaLa Land forever.

Edith P.

Well I was able to see my girl Edith today. Met her at the Pere Lachaise Cemetary with her buddies Wilde, Chopin and Jimmy M. It was a bit of a hike but rather than ride the bus I chose to walk since the cemetery is in and around the Chinatown district of Paris. The entire Boulevard Villette was filled with tents that were occupied by merchants selling fruit and vegetables to clothing and jewelry and puppies. The main alley between the two rows of tents was jam packed with people pulling small carts to carry their newly purchased goods. I mean wall to wall people. It's hard to be polite when every step includes a lunge over someones's grocery caddy.

Uber touristy

Even though my bus travel didn't go exactly as planned yesterday I got right back on that horse today and flourished. I found the line I wanted both to and from my destination and everything went off without a hitch. Was even able to give up my seat to a little old French lady carrying a grocery bag and her umbrella. I stepped out right in front of the entrance to the catacombs on the south side of Paris. It was nearly a forty minute bus ride but the trip back was rainy and windy so I was smart not to hoof it. As for the catacombs, they were really cool and creepy. Thousands of skulls and bones and the smells of a musty basement with the occasional drip of water while traveling through the tunnels. A good time for sure.

I went back to the hotel but stopped for a Doner, or Turkish gyro, and had lunch. Then tried to combine two activities by gearing up for a jog but carrying along my satchel. I ran the nearly four miles to the Eiffel Tower and got in line for the climb. By climb in mean elevator. It's a cool, windy and overcast day here which doesn't bother me in the least. I went prepared with an extra pullover but the wheels were bare and I caught a few eyes with my tiny dancer legs. The view was great and the system in which is used to herd massive amounts of people up and down seems pretty convenient. I jogged back home and the entire tower venture took a bit over two and a half hours. Not bad I guess.

It's virtually impossible to see everything here even in almost a week. I'm sort of picking and choosing and finding time to do nothing as well. I suppose that means I'll just have to come back someday.

69

69 is the number bus that was to take me to the famed Eiffel Tower. I'm not sure how long it was to take even in the best of traffic situations, but I'm certain it took me longer than normal. I first caught the 43 from the Gare de Nord or North Train Station, south to the Louvre. From there I was to somehow hop on the 69 that would take me across the River Siene to my destination. I arrived at the Louvre and found a stop that read 69 on it and things were looking good. I looked up and there it was rumbling towards me and stepped on with some sense of accomplishment. I realized very quickly though that I had hopped on the east bound 69 and not the west bound 69. Crap! I rode for some blocks simply to make it worth the one euro seventy I had paid and then got off at a place I knew I could find the right 69. I was sidetracked briefly by a man working his panini stand and indulged in a curry panini that was really, really good. Anyway, now back on the 69 headed west I was really happy with myself. We crossed back over the river and into a nice suburb of the city where at a stop the driver informed us that this was his last stop and we had to get off. I thought well fine. There will be another 69 just as the signs read and sure enough not ten minutes later there it came. I got on as if I had been riding these routes for years and proceeded to sit down but was immediately told in some French words by a woman nearby that I had stolen her friends seat who was up looking at the route map on the side of the bus. I gave many pardons and grabbed a pole. We moved slowly through the streets and I looked and listened for the phrase Champs de Mars. This was my stop. Finally with a squeak of the brakes and a muffled announcement we had arrived. The Eiffel Tower. It was all lit up and was quite lovely. The line to go to the top was ridiculously long, as were the lines for food and drink as I was terribly dehydrated at this point. I really had no desire to take it all in for my frustrating journey had taken a lot out of me. I snapped some photos and said to myself, wow that's really tall. Then I left. Did I take the bus home? Um no. I haven't given up on the public transportation system. I'll probably utilize it again but perhaps earlier in the day and with a more clear game plan.

So that's riding the bus in Paris. Neat huh?

Hallo again. Yesterday began early with my free hotel breakfast and then a jog around the city. A two hour jog in fact since before reaching greenspace one must navigate through the hoards of people on the streets but everyone is accommodating as pedestrians rule the streets here. Running in a strange city is great because even if you get lost you still present the appearance that you know where your going. I ended up at the Space Needle. Oops! I meant Eiffel Tower. Really though what's the difference? They are both two tall and beautiful structures in major city's. This one is a might older but whatever. I shall go back there and bring my camera so as to capture it in all it's glory and so I can say years from now I was there. Oh I've been to the Space Needle too. Way cool!

The evening before last after a day of hiking I was in the lobby of the hotel surfing the net and I met a fellow American named Chris who had been studying in Spain but was seeing the sites here Paris. He was an outgoing, young chap who after learning of my race time was quite impressed with me. We talked and learned of each others agenda while in the city. Before the night was through I suggested that we meet up and go to one of the hot spots together. He thought that was cool but my 1pm meeting time didn't suit him. He would email me. Keep in mind we are staying in the same hostel and he wanted to email me. I said sure. Well play it by ear. The next day came. I ran and then headed out to Notre Dame. I bumped into Chris around 4pm near the Louvre and he asked if I'd received his message to see the Louvre. Having not checked my email that day I said I hadn't. He asked if I wanted to check it out and the overly hyped Mona Lisa. Normally this would be a fine idea but felt a bit slighted for not fitting into his busy schedule the evening prior so I declined. Forgive and forget Doug. Yes, yes all of that but I was scorned and bitter. He went on his way to the Louvre. little did he know the Louvre is closed on Tuesday's. Victory was mine!!!

Yum Yums (meant to edit but had trouble. Apologies for grammar issues)

I took to the streets of Paris in the late afternoon and began to get my bearings on the city and its people. It may sound intimidating to walk aimlessly through the streets of a city of over 2 million people but it's not as bad as one may think. Just for kicks, I found the Louvre, the Great Arch and every perfume shop in-between. After three hours of walking and picture taking and ogling the beautiful women, I headed back to my residence for the week. The Vintage Hostel.

After a few minutes rest I set out again in search of food. By pure coincidence I ended up near the very train station I first arrived at and settled in at a street side cafe to which I don't think actually had a name aside from street side cafe. Im sure I was mistook for suave with my Brussels Marathon tshirt and tweed sports coat with suede patches at the elbows. I gave a quick glance to the menu and decided on smoked salmon crostini for my first course and steak tartar for my entree. This would be the meal of meals.

To begin I was brought a rectangular plate full of extra thinly sliced smoked salmon surrounded by toast points and garnished with fresh lemon slices and butter. Believe it or not, no need for butter here as the texture if the salmon took it's place. I carefully carved salmon and placed the severed locks onto the bread like Hawkeye Pierce would have done to a hurt and unjustly captured Korean soldier. Well maybe more like Winchester. He was always more meticulous. Each bite was heavenly and with a squeeze of lemon was even more indescribable.

I awaited my next course with a ever-filling stomach and glutenous anticipation. And out it came. Steak Tartar. Literally and without any masking, a ten ounce scoop of raw beef outlined with capers, finely diced pickle, white onion and fresh chopped parsley. It was completed by the similarly raw egg yolk set ever so gently on top of the beef like the crown on a king. Separately, these items may not be appealing yet together, served in unison are simply grand. I will admit it I could have done without the egg yolk. It has been done this way for so long and I've seen it on many a cooking program that it's just not awe striking anymore. Tasty but no big deal.

The meal in it's entirety was great and was the single most expensive meal I've ever bought for myself, just over 30 euros. So i splurged, so what. That's what Paris is for. At least once in a while.

Hallo from Paris

Just arrived via train, walked out of the station four blocks and came to the Vintage Hostel/Hotel where I'll be staying for the next six days. It was only an hour and a half journey from Brussels and the train left right on time. Oh, just a side note, I was told that the average age of the reader of this blog is getting younger therefore there will no longer be any use of profane language even though a little cursing can help get the point across sometimes.

I have been in France for all of forty minutes and already I managed to offend the handicapped. Carrying a large backpack and another small satchel instantly gives me away as a naive tourist so I was ripe for the picking for a girl who looked to be in her teenage to young adult years. She approached me with the clear intent to get me to sign a petition to help the poor cripples of Paris. Initially I thought scam but listened. She kept urging me to sign and I would ask what exactly it was for. How would the slow French people benefit from me signing this piece of paper? As I read and listened further, I saw the blank line under "amount donated" and said no thank you. She continued to prod for funds. She asked for dollars even. I could have given her the extra laundry token I acquired in Brussels but that would have been mean so I just said no and went on my way. Overall, the exchange went well and no international incident was caused.

Trip part deux

I'm now waiting the arrival of the train that will shuttle me off to Paris. I had to get to one of the other train stations in Brussels in order to get the train i wanted and didn't have too much trouble but the time postings are a bit confusing. Any train travel is difficult after traveling through Germany. Those krauts sure are organized. As I was sitting in a cafe drinking my coffee, which is much stronger than what we're used too, the man at the counter brought over to me a muffin of sorts to eat. I looked at him, puzzled, to ask why he was offering it to me. He signaled it was on the house and moved back to the food prep area. It looked as though the pastry was not exactly a true pastry but rather a leftover or hunk that was not to be sold to paying customers. It reminded my of a really good muffin top only bigger and better. It was crispy on the outside and had the texture of angel food cake on the inside. Very good and free.

I'm still reveling in my good showing at the race yesterday. In fact on my journey here I met another man who ran the half marathon from Latvia who actually helped me find the right train. He ran the course in 1:23 so I wasn't too embarrased when I shared my finishing time.

See you in Paris

America! Gosh yeah!!!

Per done moi for the use of the G word and the Anglo spelling but it just seemed appropriate. I truly exceeded my race expectations by finishing 84th overall with a time of 1.25.49. Thats a personal best. I was also the first American to finish if you hadnt noticed. I wont give you all the play by play as you can view some photos at the Sportograf site, bib number 4477, linked from the race site. But let me touch on a few highlights.

It was a good start and as usual I began much too fast. I tried to hold back but when one is feeling good, one must go with it. The course had plenty of incline and I thank my lucky stars for that 9 mile hill route in St. Joe, MN. Running that clearly paid off. Another fortunate aspect was that only a fraction of the race was run over cobblestone. It looks lovely in photos and isnt bad to walk on but its a frickin pain to run over. I would have been royally pissed had I sprained an ankle or tripped and fell. Belgium wouldnt have liked that lawsuit.

A great portion of the race was through the suburbs of brussels where there were few spectators but smooth ground. Aside from two tunnels we ran through where I lost the GPS signal on my watch but got it back upon exit, it was a pleasant journey.

I checked my time at the 9 mile point. Sorry, I cant write in kilometers. I was ahead of schedule and just let it ride. As I had suspected however the last hill came around the 11 mile mark and it drained the you know what out of me. I hit the last water station head on following a svelte looking Belgian to the finish. I ended up passing him near the end but not in an unsportsmanlike fashion like at the very end but with about a quarter mile left. He thanked me afterwards for urging him on and a good race. Im kinda like the United Nations that way.

Anyhoo, I felt well for mostly the entire competition except for some bloody toes, the same on each foot. I think its a shoe size issue and will have to talk to my sponsor.

Overall the race was a good experience and I'm sure I'll tackle another half marathon in the future. Im celebrating this moral victory by attending a 7.30 showing of the film HOWL starring James Franco as Allen Ginsburg. Sounds very heady.

Au Voir

Just got back from the pre race pasta dinner. The food was actually really good. Rotini bolognese is what I chowed down. Got some brochures for other races in Europe too. Afraid I won't be making those. One european race a year seems like enough. Won't do much of a warmup run prior to running but I'll walk the mile and a half to the start to loosen up. I looking forward to race time but also just want it over with. Lot of nervous energy built up right now and I'd just like to relax.

Decided to head to Paris on Monday. I'll be there till Saturday and then have to stay one last night in Brussels to ensure I meet my plane home in time. Hopefully there are some things to see there. Perhaps some art or tall, funny-shaped structures. Sure is a rough life huh?

Day off

One can only do so many touristy things so I'm taking the day off. There will be no tours and no museums. I missed the economic fair so I guess that wasn't meant to be anyway. Instead I caught up on some sleep and found a laundry mat where a man with a terribly long beard help me navigate the wash token machine. Now armed with a few more clean clothes I will head out later to the pasta dinner for marathoners being held at the Belgian Military Academy. Let's hope I don't sweat through my nice clean t-shirt on the walk there.