We were lucky enough to vacation in France this year. We spent a few days in Paris and a few days with friends. They are in a tiny town in the southwest called Sos. It’s a 4.5 hour ride from Paris on the 190mph TGV train, and then an hour drive from Agen. It really is in the middle of nowhere…and it’s wonderful.
I got in a couple runs and it was a great way to see the scenery. They were sightseeing runs more than training runs. One hilly and one flat; the narrow roads were all mine.
- The hilly one showed me a fabulous view of the town from the next ridge. With the early morning sun at my back lighting the town with warm light, I wished I had the camera.
- Bored cows whose heads came up in unison, in what I’m sure is their version of giddiness at this new excitement in their morning, heads slowly pivoting to follow my progress like 30 white-faced mimes.
- A just-barely-not-turned ankle at the turnaround of an out-and-back run. Read: as far from home as possible. I was sure I was screwed but after a minute with the weight off it and a few minutes walking it wasn’t painful and got me home with no problems. It was very slightly swollen that night but, with no pain and no lingering inflammation, I feel lucky.
We were amazed at the number of runners we saw in Paris! I was hoping for an early morning, pre-crowds, run around Notre Dame and along the Seine but it didn’t work out.