Running Hard

So despite the best of intentions, I haven't gotten much real exercise here in Ecuador.  Yes, we've been walking quite a bit, but I only consider walking real exercise when it's a quad-pounding multi-hour hike, not the languid stroll which seems to be the norm here.  I knew it would be difficult to get into a regular running routine, and I didn't worry because I've been concerned that all my running is doing some real damage to my feet, and I've come to realize that in any event, I don't like running all that much.  I still like it at times, but I'm more of a once or twice a week runner.  For exercise, I was really counting on keeping up my daily yoga practice, or at least some semblance of it.  But for reasons so vague that I can't even think of them now (cramped quarters? no yoga mat? dirty floors?), I've let that go for the past three weeks.

But now as a result of possibly spending all this family time together, which has otherwise been (mostly) wonderful, I think I'm starting to get a bit pent up.  Time for a run.

You don't see many runners on the streets of Cuenca.  Sure there are some, very early in the morning, or along the Tomebamba, the narrow rushing stream that forms the southern border of the historic center.  You certainly don't see them near our place, right in the center, partly because of the constant vehicle and pedestrian traffic.  Running in the streets is a complete non-starter (even traversing a crosswalk with the light can be challenging) and the sidewalks vary from a barely comfortable five feet wide to a mostly theoretical six inches, often within the same block.  I just don't think running is a big thing here.  And that may be partly because it seems like a pretty industrious place.  Perhaps not entirely by choice, everyone here seems to be working all the time.  There aren't lots of people filling the parks in the middle of the day like in New York.  Maybe running is more of a First World pastime, with people here conserving their time and calories for better uses.

So, after sleeping in for the first time in a while (Oscar until almost 12!), and a slightly-off fast food "brunch" of fried things and yogurt shakes, I strapped on my hiking shoes which look a bit like over-stylized brown running sneakers, and set off through the center for the Tomebamba.

I made it across the few blocks of the center to the stairs down to the river in about eight minutes, not too bad considering the pre-Navidad shopping crowds.  From there, I ran downstream along the river road which was actually kind of pleasant.  I like the rushing, rocky energy of the Tomebamba, but it seems a bit out of scale, as if Cuenca has outgrown it.  When the city was a colonial settlement, it must have seemed mighty, but now it strikes me as the kind of thing that would form the centerpiece of a picturesque hamlet in Vermont or the Black Forest, rather than a city of half a million.

I ran about a mile downstream, then crossed over one of the many bridges and circled back on the other bank.  Big mistake to run downstream first, because, well, it's down.  I sucked wind the whole way back, so much so that I barely noticed the Cuencanos riding bikes, walking dogs and doing other weekend city stuff along the path as I huffed by.  I'm glad I got out anyway.  It helped clear my head and was at least a small step towards the great leap of daily exercise.  I don't even feel bad about my less than spectacular time (maybe about 3 miles in a bit over 30 minutes) -- I can blame the heat, the diesel fumes, the clunky hiking boots...and did I mention that we're at 8,500 feet up here?

Might do some yoga tomorrow.