Nowhere To-run

I've never been a keen traveller. So much walking and sightseeing usually leaves me too fatigued to enjoy the surroundings. Egypt was historic, but hot. Andalucia beautiful, but tiring. My latest trip, to Poland, is certainly not a holiday but nevertheless a welcome break during which I've developed a new found appreciation for venturing into new places.

The measure of a city for me now is the scope to run therein. My experiences in Jurata, a desolate coastal region on the Baltic Sea, and the urban setting of Torun, have largely been defined by my ability to keep up training. In other circumstances, and for most people, Jurata would prove a chore (poor food, little life and inconsistent weather). But it does lie on a promontory that seems to go on forever, converging towards the edge of the sea itself. A runner's dream. Torun, on the other hand, is full of life, culture and beautiful scenery. But there is nowhere decent to run! The Maths institute is close to a bridge, which overlooks the river and spans around 500m. I can do no better than just run up and down it around twenty times. It says a lot about me that I consider this bridge the highlight of what is actually an amazing city.

A keen runner will always pounce on the opportunity to cover new ground; for a budding marathon goer it's absolutely essential. Running is universal in that it can be done anywhere, any time (pretty much). Packing my gear was simple enough and finding water even easier: what more could I ask for?

Paris is now 10 days away. Whilst Torun is unideal for this final stage of training, I need only complete two 10k runs before returning to Oxford on Monday. The buzzword for next week is chill. Taking care of one's body off the roads is just as pivotal to training as running itself, especially at this crucial tapering stage. My legs are far from fresh and there are, as always, some real injury concerns. But right now I'm happy to count down the days to what could be an historic occasion.