Paris!

This past week we headed to France to see the sights and run the Paris Marathon with our friends Lindsey and Justin Waugh. The advantage of living on this side of the pond is being able to take the lightning fast Eurostar train that travels between London and central Paris in just over two hours! Chris and I arrived a few hours before the Waugh’s plane landed, so we settled in the cute (and affordable, with a full kitchen, only blocks from the Louvre!) apartment Chris had found on www.homeaway.co.uk. When they arrived there were lots of hugs and chatting and then we left to take our first wander around the city. We spent a bit of time at the race expo and bought some race paraphernalia to commemorate Chris's and my first marathon!

The Eiffel Tower lit at night.

From there we went to the Eiffel Tower to admire it in the daylight.  Actually, admire is a too strong a word: it’s more iconic than it is beautiful.  We really wanted to go up to the top but only one elevator was working and the resulting line was well over two hours long!  We knew there were stairs to the observation deck and when decided to at least go that far by foot.   When buying the walking tickets, however, we realized there was an elevator that ran from that middle section to the top (with no wait!) so we were excited that it was working out so well.  Well, to get to that first section to take photos was quite a few stairs but we did well.  We looked around for an elevator and found a little sign with a picture of an elevator by some stairs so started up those.  Welllll, maybe we should’ve looked more carefully because none of us expected the twenty or so more flights it took to get to the elevator!  Turns out there were over 700 stairs, which, combined with the day’s non-stop walking, made our legs feel like jelly that night.  So much for the rest and taper strategy!  Our timing was great because we made it to the top to watch the sun set and the city light up, and by the time we got back down the sky was dark and the tower was stunningly lit.  Dinner afterwards was hilariously terrible. 

A view of Paris from the observation deck of the Eiffel Tower.

Friday we awoke early to get to the Louvre, a gigantic museum in the very center of Paris that houses hundreds of thousands of items from around the world and throughout time.  Its most famous occupant is Leonardo de Vinci’s Mona Lisa although to be honest I just cannot truly appreciate why it is ‘better’ than many other works.  Maybe I should take an art appreciation class, or at least read a book on the subject.  Everyone has a different ‘museum pace’ and different interests so we decided to meet back in the lobby at a certain time.  For a sense of scale, the museum was so large that we were late getting back to the meeting point despite leaving our Egyptian mummies with half-an hour to spare!  The Louvre is a great example of how bigger is definitely not better. It’s not very user-friendly and overwhelming.  For example, does one really need to see a thousand bronze pots?  I guess I’d rather see a few and understand why they were important instead.  The National Museum in London and the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam are fantastic in that regard.    (Am I a museum snob?!)   

Looking down at the pyramid in the Louvre's courtyard.

Inside the Louvre.

Chris in front the Mona Lisa.

After the Louvre we walked (again, with the walking!)  to the much cozier Sainte-Chapelle, a Gothic sanctuary built in the 1200’s to house the crown of thorns relic from Jesus’ crucifixion.  The crown is now housed down the street at the Notre Dame Cathedral but Sainte-Chapelle is still well visited for its absolutely stunning stained glass works.  There are over a thousand biblical scenes worked into the huge panel windows.   Afterwards, we walked around an outdoor market and ate some yummy sandwiches from a little shop nearby before walking to see the Notre Dame Cathedral. 

Dinner was amazing that night.  We took the advice of our Parisian landlord and went to the restaurant a couple doors down from our apartment.  Everything from the scallops to the onion soup to the veal to the pasta was perfectly cooked and seasoned.  (We ended up back at this restaurant for dinner after our marathon and were just as pleased the second time around.)

Saint Chapelle's amazing stained glass. 

Justin is our hunchback of Notre Dame.

Me and Chris in front of Notre Dame.

Hilarious!

Saturday we really did try to limit our walking and stair-climbing!  Even walking up and down the stairs to the Metro was laborious, which shows how tired our legs were by this point.  (I know, I’m already making marathon excuses and we haven’t even gotten to that part of the blog yet.)  There’s a reason Parisians are skinny!  We took the Metro to the Arc du Triumph and then took a bike tour of Paris with Bike About Tours (thanks to Trip Advisor for finding that awesome activity!)  We probably rode ten miles in three hours and got to see and learn about all sorts of little Parisian gems.  I think 6 or 7 of the 12 of us on the tour were in Paris for the marathon, so that was neat.  There was one woman on the tour that kept us all entertained… I’m glad to say she made it back safely despite her many, many attempts to get run over.  She was absolutely oblivious, too, and tourists were taking pictures OF HER everywhere we went.  So funny.   Chris and I have made a tradition of eating mushroom fettuccini alfredo before every big race or ride this season, so we cooked that up for dinner for the four of us and tucked in early to get ready for the race.

The four of us at the Arc du Triumph.

The four of us across the river from the Eiffel Tower.

Ms. Red and Chris on our bike tour!

Justin as our safety officer!

Sunday was MARATHON DAY!  I was nervous about what to wear, whether to wear a hat, if I should take gloves, what ‘bin’ to start in (there are pacers in each bin so if you want to run a 4:00 marathon you try to stick with the pacer that has that flag), if my stomach would give me trouble, if it was going to rain, etc.  Chris and I ran a 20-mile race about six weeks ago and that was the longest either of us had managed to go before this race.  We’ve also had company and I’ve taken a trip back to the States since then so really felt unprepared for this race!  All those doubts crept up and made me nervous before the start.  At race check-in we received big plastic bags to wear before the race to retain body heat.  These were crucial!  I’m doing a whole separate blog for the race itself, so will just say that we all finished, Chris faster than the other three of us, and even though I promised myself to never do another marathon (other than the obligatory one at the end of Ironman) I feel that I could (with proper training and some rehab on my IT band) finish another one in under 3:50.  And that’s how it starts. 

After the race we lounged around, took hot showers, napped, drank some beer, and then strolled two doors down to our favorite restaurant on the corner. Two hours later, after another fantastic meal, we vetoed our previous idea to take the Metro to another part of the city for a drink and instead (barely) made it the two doors (and like thirty steps up – arg!) to our apartment. 

Monday we were supposed to catch a train back to London but (totally my fault) mixed up times and didn’t make it to the train station in time.  Technology is wonderful, though, and within an hour we had rebooked the train for the following day, found/booked/checked into a hotel a couple blocks away, and were ready for a bonus day in Paris.  We took the morning to see the infamous Moulin Rouge and walk up the hill to the Montparnasse neighborhood.  At the top of the hill was a beautiful church.  Historically, Montparnese was the neighborhood of starving artists and eclectic tastes.  Today it is much more of a tourist congregation zone but the central square is still full of artists selling paintings of skylines or offering to sketch your face.   

Moulin Rouge

From there we went to Père Lachaise, a cemetery that our bike tour guide had recommended we take a wander around.  We had no idea what to expect but trusted her judgment, so took the Metro across to the eastern part of Paris.  We were instantly impressed with the place!   The pictures don’t do it justice but do better than I could in describing it.  Oscar Wilde and Jim Morrison are buried there, along with close to a million other people.  It felt like a city of mausoleums, and the richer the family, the larger and more ornate the grave site and monuments were.  From the gravesite we went to the ‘left bank’ and walked by the Pantheon and then to a major shopping street whose name I don’t recall.  The next day we did make it to the train station on time, whew, and were back at home by noon on Tuesday!

Pere Lachaise cemetary.

Eurostar train back to London, try #2!

Surviving the Paris Marathon (with the Waughs!)



I never meant to sign up for a marathon!  It’s not that I’m against them; I’ve just never had even an inkling of an urge to do one.  Then in a rash decision last fall, Chris and I signed up for Ironman UK and as the last leg of that race is, indeed, a marathon, my ‘never running a marathon’ vow was already as good as broken.  Some Ironman hopefuls want their Ironman to also be their first marathon but mentally I needed to know beforehand that I could move myself that far.   Running a marathon in Paris sounded more fun than doing one locally, so we signed up and convinced our friends the Waughs to do the same.  Chris went to high school in Tennessee and then to the University of Memphis with Justin and Lindsey.  They are both experienced marathoners, and Paris was Lindsey’s twentieth!   As usual, months flew by and Chris and I were boarding the Eurostar train to Paris. Just over two hours later we arrived in The City of Light and the Waughs arrived a few hours afterwards.  It’s been about a year since we’ve spent time with them and we were laughing that it takes signing up for an ambitious event to get us together.  (The last time was for a hundred-mile bike ride in Little Rock!)

There’s a separate blog on the trip to Paris itself so I’ll just skip to the start of the marathon.  We had read in the little pre-race booklet about the race start and what to expect.  (That book must’ve been translated online and never proof-read.  One of the little gems was a reminder to “bring two small bandages for your tits.”  HAHA!)  I had debated running with Lindsey because Justin was going to sit the race out with a foot injury but at the last minute he decided to run.  Lindsey was going to take it really easy because she’s twenty weeks pregnant and so the two of them stuck together for the course, stopping to take pictures, walk at times, and eat snacks along the way. 

Trying to stay warm before the race start!  Getting nervous at this point.

Race start... people as far as you could see!

Chris was going to run faster than I could handle so I struck out on my own at the last minute.  I decided to start with the four-hour pacing group (along with about half of the other runners!)  That’s a 9:00/mile pace, well within my usual training pace.  Right away I felt a little claustrophobic.  The whole course was absolutely packed with people.  When our wave started, it was hard to get into a steady rhythm with so many people around and with the cobblestone roads.  I didn’t like being cramped in the middle or having to dodge around slower people so worked my way to the far right side of the course and stayed there for the duration.  That was a huge mistake!  Running 26.2 miles will sure let you know your body’s weaknesses.  The only overuse injury I’ve sporadically had to deal with over the past years is a really tight right IT band.  I saw a physio guy here in England and he gave me some rehab to do that I was sooo compliant with for about two months… and then felt better and stopped doing it.  That was so, so dumb of me.  I think running on the tilted edge of the road made that injury flare up.  By mile 12 I could already feel it tightening and by mile 15 was having to stop and stretch so much that I lost sight of the 4:00 pacer, which was really discouraging since I had more than 11 miles to go!   By mile 18 I was wondering if I should just give up but reasoned I probably wasn’t doing permanent harm because stretching made my leg feel fine for a few minutes afterwards until tightening back up.   People around me were starting to fade at this point as well.  More and more people were walking, stopping to stretch, and generally looking haggard.  At mile 20 I was sort of done with the race.  Then, for whatever reason, I tuned out my brain and just shuffled along without much pain until mile 23.  Fitness wise I was absolutely fine – my heart rate was really low and my muscles weren’t tired… it was just that my IT band was so tight I couldn’t bend my right knee more than a few degrees.  Mentally, I soared at the 23-mile marker.  I thought “anyone can run three miles!”   And then I swear I did run three miles.  Except the next marker read ‘24’.  How. The. Hell. Was. That. One. Mile. I stopped and walked for half a mile and then got mad at myself and started jogging again.  From that point on, I ignored the mile markers and instead paid attention to the kilometer signs.  It was more rewarding to see “40-km” and then, “41-km”, and then the crowd was getting louder, and more people were starting to jog again, and then we turned the corner and I could see the finish.  I heard sobbing and a 50-yr old man pulled alongside me just crying his eyes out.  I went teary-eyed, too, but wasn’t sure why. It really is just an overwhelming experience in some regards.  I remember looking at my watch and noting I was well above that four-hour goal but thinking I just didn’t care anymore.  (There are actually videos on the race website of the finish and a few days later I watched video footage of myself shuffling across the finish line.  I will NOT be sharing that link and yes, I looked just as bad as I felt!)

There was a definite feeling of victory as I passed over the finish line, even in 19,514^th (ha!) place.  Everyone keeps you moving forwards, and after a few steps you receive your finisher medal, then a few more steps to get your finisher’s T-shirt and plastic poncho to keep warm, then to tables full of Gatorade and water, then to the fruit table, then the left-luggage tents.  By this point I was damp and absolutely freezing. Chris found me at the left-luggage tent (I was standing right next to him and didn’t realize it.)  He bombarded me with questions: “How was your race!” “How do you feel?” “Are you cold?” “Are you hungry?” My head was so foggy I made him stop asking questions and asked how his race was.  He gave me a cheeky smile and showed me his watch.  I should preface this by saying he’s not a distance runner at all, and that he was aiming for 3:50.  His watch read 3:25:05!  That’s a 7:48 mine/mile pace for 26.2 miles! Amazing.  His race was so different from mine.  He said he’s never felt so good running, and didn’t have any trouble until his right achilles started aching at mile 20.  I’m so proud of him!!  (His official ranking was 4,562.)

Almost 40,000 people ran the Paris marathon this year.   The crowd support was really good; all but a few miles of the course were lined with spectators and there were 80+ drum lines, performers, and bands along the course.  Looking back on the race, I’d say it was well run except for a desperate need for more toilets.  The thing I will remember most about my first marathon is the number of people who just dropped pants and went for it in the street, on the grass, behind any tree, or behind the port-o-potties that had long lines of people.  I waited four minutes for a toilet about mid-way through the race and next time will probably just follow the crowd and not waste the time!  I mean, I pee in the trees when I run with my friends around the house but I know them and there aren’t hordes of spectators taking photos!  Haha!  I guess people gotta do what people gotta do.  I wonder if the race officials would be sad to know that what I remember most about their multi-million Euro race is the awe-inspiring amount of wild peeing happening over 26.2 miles of Parisian streets and parks!

Justin and Lindsey with their finisher's medals!

Italy! Florence, Cinque Terre, Pisa: Michelle Take Two

Dang it, Chris, leave that building alone.

We flew to Pisa, Italy Saturday morning on the budget airline Ryanair.  This was the very first flight Michelle has had to pay for!  We tried to warn her that flying Ryanair is an experience and dang, did she get to see that first hand.  Firstly, only one tiny piece of luggage is allowed for free so we each packed for four days (including nice clothes for Florence, hiking shoes for Cinque Terre, and a big camera with its own bag) in normal sized backpacks.  Then there’s the ‘we’re being herded like cattle’ feeling that accompanies the whole boarding process.  Then, as soon as your butt is buckled into a Ryanair seat, you are a captive audience for a sales pitch that lasts exactly as long as your flight is in the air.  This flight was almost two hours and in that time we were offered (and I couldn’t make this up): hot and cold food, magazines and newspapers, hot and cold beverages, alcohol, cigarettes, smokeless cigarettes “you can smoke them right on the plane!”, phone cards, makeup and perfume, train tickets, luggage, and my very favorites: Ryanair bingo and lottery tickets that are “€2/each or an even better deal at six for €10” and the Girls of Ryanair calendar.  The reluctant salespeople formerly known as flight attendants just walk up and down the aisle yawning and sort of waving whatever they have to try to sell that minute.  Plus, every announcement was made in English and Italian so there was a constant stream of noise coming from the speakers above our heads.  On the way there we had two ridiculous children and their mother who was feigning sleep to not have to deal with them sitting directly in front of us.  (The flight home lacked the screaming children but did have a large group of drunken Italian 20-somethings who clapped and sang every time a flight attendant came near them.  We didn’t even turn the car radio on for the ride home because all we wanted was silence!)  I won’t complain anymore… we got to Italy safely and cheaply and that is what Ryanair promises to do.  

So yes, from Pisa we took the bus (about an hour) to Florence, known as the ‘birthplace of the Renaissance’.  I loved Florence a few years ago and love it even more after this second visit.  We checked into our hotel and met up with Tracy and Deana for our first amazing meal in Italy.  When Italians go to eat, it typically involves a bottle or two of wine, an appetizer (usually a cheese plate or salad), a first course (usually a pasta dish), amazing crusty bread, a main course (generally a meat dish), and dessert and/or coffee.  It is expected that the whole ordeal will last a few hours so tables in a restaurant will rarely turn over more than once a night.  It was Chris and Michelle’s first time in Italy and it was so incredibly fun to watch them experience all the amazing foods for which the area is known, including gelato (although we did come up short of our goal to average two a day), freshly made pasta of every imaginable shape, steak, pesto, prosciuttos, cheeses, and wines (mostly Chianti since the region borders Florence). The first night we ate at a tiny 6-table restaurant downtown and were well pleased!  For that meal and the ones following we shared a few starters and first courses, each ordered our own second course, and then split a couple desserts.  This let us taste so many different things! The second night, Tracy made reservations at a place Acqua that was recommended to her by friends and again, the food was absolutely amazing. 

At the markets in Florence.

Il Duomo by night.

Tracy, Chris, Deana, Michelle, me

The first morning in Florence we hiked to the top of the Duomo’s (church) bell tower to get some amazing panoramic views of the city.  The Duomo itself was closed (arg). Afterwards we met up with the Dynamic Duo and made our way to see the Statue of David, Michelangelo’s 17-foot tall marble masterpiece (he was only 26 when he carved it!) The statue represents David from the Bible’s story of David and Goliath and truly is impressive to see in person. 

From David we walked to the Church of Sante Croce which was also closed (boo).  Then we hiked up a giant hill (gelato in hand to balance any sort of caloric deficit) to Piazzale Michelangelo for more amazing panoramic views of the city.  We sat for a coffee and then explored the Boboli Gardens, where there are (mostly 15^th and 16^th century) statues on display instead of flowers.  It’s only a couple blocks from there to the Ponte Vecchio, Florence’s iconic ‘Old Bridge’ full of primo jewelry shops.  I got side-tracked with leather boot-buying and met up with Chris and Michelle about 45 minutes later J.  The three of us were exhausted by this point, and needed to get back to the hotel to meet the Duo for that amazing dinner at Acqua but were side-tracked (again) and Michelle and I both ended up with a pair of leather boots and Chris a wool jacket.  Oops!  Our trio left Italy with a new coat, four new scarves, and three new pairs of leather boots between us.  Hahaha!  That made packing our three small backpacks even trickier! 

Il Duomo by day.

Chris and Michelle with their very first gelato!

Michelle taking in the beauty of Florence.  You can see the Duomo to her right towering above the rest of the city.

This is what we do.

Boboli - a garden of statues.

The Ponte Vecchio.

The Duo were heading down to the Amalfi coast for the next leg of their adventure so we said our goodbyes after dinner, packed our things, and set the alarm to catch our super early train to Cinque Terre.  Cinque Terre, literally ‘Five Lands’, is a famous cluster of five towns clinging to coastal cliffs and connected by what is widely regarded as Italy’s most scenic walking trail.  Hiking that trail was a favorite memory from my last trip to Italy and I got Chris and Michelle excited about it, too.  I knew the area had been devastated by a mudslide and flash flood last October so did some research before we committed to that part of the trip.  The official website of Cinque Terre (and Wiki travel and everything else I saw) had a warning that one of the five sections of trail had been washed out and wouldn’t be open.  The rest of the trail, it assured, was open and there was a train or alternative hiking paths that could be used as a work-around.  Fine.  We decided it was still worth the couple-hour train ride so there we were.  We arrived into Monterosso, the northernmost of the five villages and asked the lady at the information desk to show on a map exactly what parts of the trail were closed.  She started x’ing out almost the entire thing… The only part open, she said, was the first half-mile section (the least scenic, I will add.)  WOW.  You’re kidding, right?  That was the entire reason we came!  It was like driving three hours to a U2 concert and instead of them onstage you get a boom box playing their latest record.  Yeah, you’re hearing (or in our case seeing) the same thing but the experience is what you came for.  Does that make sense?  The hotel was already paid for, so we checked in and headed to the gelato stand (don’t judge), sat on the beach, and reassessed our situation.  We decided to take the train to the first of the five towns, Riomaggiore, to at least walk the small open section of trail.  That put us in Vernazzo, the second town.  The weather was gorgeous – 75 and sunny – so we bought snacks and hiked out to the giant rocks of the breakwater to relax.  It was a great decision, for sure.  The three of us made each other laugh for a few hours and enjoyed the heck out of our €12 bottle of Prosecco. 

Michelle had never seen the sun set over the ocean, so that turned into the ‘ruined’ day’s goal. We needed some dinner first, though, so picked our way the hundred or so feet back across the rocks into town.  

Hahaha!  Train yoga.

Monterosso, Italy

Chris and Michelle on the beach at Monterosso.  Gorgeous!

Me and Michelle, same beach :)

Don't let them tell you differently, Cinque Terre's trail is CLOSED.

The trail's first, and only open, section.

FAVORITE! This is Vernazza.  See the rocks on the right?  That's where we hung out for just about the whole afternoon!

Can you tell how many hours it is until sunset by measuring how far the sun is above the horizon? 

Awwwwww :)

We sent Chris on a gelato mission :) 

There was a restaurant with great ocean views that looked perfect and luckily the owner saw us looking at the posted and came down the hill to open up for us.  “We open. You stay.  Sit anywhere!”  He helped us chose our dishes, all seafood of course.  I honestly can’t think of any better meal I’ve eaten.  We had gnocchi scampi, squid ink homemade ‘long pasta’, seafood stew with fish, squid, prawns, and mussels, and gigantic prawns with a fennel salad.  Dang.  Double dang.  If you ever find yourself in Vernazza, definitely go to Ristorante Marina Piccola. The owner even gave us tastes of grappa and limoncello to finish off the meal.   



Sitting at our perfect table. 

Best bread ever. 

Grappa.  Ew.

Yummmy food.

Cracking up.

We watched the fisherman hoist this boat up from the sea as the sun was setting. 

 Afterwards we walked back to the rocks and spent an hour watching the sun set and the sky change to pinks and purples.  Do we wish we had been able to do the epic hike instead of all that?  Yes.  Did we thoroughly enjoy our day despite the disappointment?  Definitely.

Michelle catching the sun :)

Amazing colors (no filters or photoshop!)

Tuesday we lounged in the sun on the Monterosso beach for a while, watching the mail person ride her bike from person to person (I swear half the town was chatting on the boardwalk) handing them their mail.  Around 11:00 we dragged ourselves from the beach to catch a train to Pisa.  As a rule, we love taking dumb photos, so the famous Torre Pendente (Leaning Tower) was great.  It leans way more than I imagined! We snapped some pictures and then laid in the grass at the base of the tower for an hour before heading back to obnoxious Ryanair-land.   

Michelle's awesome handstand!

Serious leaning!

I mentioned before that Michelle was involved with Carolina men’s basketball but haven’t mentioned how much of a Tar Heel basketball fan Chris has become since we started dating.   Since most games come on TV in the middle of the night Chris and I are pretty good at playing the ‘don’t find out the score until we can watch the recorded game’ game.  It’s harder than it sounds! You have to tell everyone around about the situation and keep a self-imposed social and news media blackout (no Facebook, no email, no answering phone calls, no television…) The ACC tournament was on during this Italy trip so we set up the DVR to record Sunday’s final (that’s right, we all had faith) and played ‘the game’ until Tuesday night!  See, Chris and I are used to this game but Michelle, not so much.  In fact, she may have developed a nervous tic.  And all that to watch Carolina get beat by Florida State days after it actually happened.  Boo. At least there was leftover cookie dough to eat.

Michelle observed how much of a ‘yes, let’s’ person Chris is.  Huh?  Michelle explained:  Hey, want to climb those 300 stairs for the view?  Yes, let’s.  Want to skip that entire part of the museum because I don’t love those paintings?  You want to get back to the Ponte Vecchio by sunset?  How about sitting for a coffee?  Yes, let’s. From my perspective, Michelle absolutely shares that quality.  Whether it was because all three of us have similar traveling styles or interests, we always seemed to be on the same page with what to do and when.  It was wonderful!

I think maybe the best way to judge a trip is by how much you laugh and how many experiences you take from it.  If that is the measure, we had an absolutely wonderful time.  Even with the many, many hours ‘in transit’ (busses, cars, trains, planes) and the bitter disappointment of the Cinque Terre trail being closed, we managed to accept the reality of our situations and make the very best out of them.  Michelle, you’re welcome to come back anytime!