Before you run the New York Marathon, read Liz Robbin’s A Race Like No Other– 26.2 Miles through the streets of New York.  Actually, I think the book should be tucked into every swag bag with the t-shirt and race number.  Runners could fight pre-race jitters in bed the night before engrossed in these captivating stories.  Moreover, they could throw it in with their water and power bars the next morning and pass the dreaded hours of waiting time at the start with Paula Radcliff and Hendrick Ramaala.  Runners would appreciate the many volunteers they were about to pass in a whole new light (who may actually hand them their water).  They would become familiar with the sacrifices of the bold-hearted elite racers like those they will follow through the streets of NY. And how could they not be motivated by reading about the many individuals who overcame heart-wrenching adversity to make it to the starting line?  I would have loved that before I ran in 2008. This book had me at mile one.

We, at a bold pace, have devoured Liz Robbins’ astute and edifying articles about running and other sports in the New York Times and Well Blog. In fact, Liz’s article The Best Marathon Advice You’ll Ever Get (a favorite) will be sent to new marathoner friends in perpetuity. Are you sensing how delighted we are that Liz Robbins’ has agreed to answer our a bold pace questionnaire?

10 Questions for Liz Robbins:

1. Running skirt: friend or foe?

Foe. When I run, I want to wear shorts. When I play tennis, I wear skirts. When I played lacrosse and field hockey, I wore tartan plaid polyester skirts. Enough said.

2. What is your idea of the perfect run (when, where)?

When I covered the N.B.A. for the New York Times, I had my favorite runs on the road.

Venice Beach (not all the way to Santa Monica Pier) – a nice 5-miler watching the ocean

Dallas – Katy Trail (I always seemed to do that run when it was 92 degrees)

Miami – South Beach boardwalk/trail

But, my favorite quick run is in my backyard. A few blocks to Central Park, one loop on the upper bridle path, one loop on the reservoir.

3.  What do you most value in a running friend (or do you prefer music/sweet solitude)?

Encouragement. I run faster with a friend.

4.  What is your present state of running mind? How are those knees…will you ever run the NY Marathon?

My present state of running mind is…incredibly frustrated. I haven’t had a run longer than 30 minutes for months, and I’m spending most of my time on the elliptical right now. My doctor wants me to have arthroscopic surgery. My doctor thinks it’s essential because cartilage is roaming free in my right knee. I knew the pain and the clicking noises were not good signs. Any advice?

5.  Who is your favorite runner to watch (or to cover) and why?

Hendrick Ramaala.

Because he is so genuine and so wise. When I did research for my book, I stayed with him and his family for five days in Johannesburg, and they couldn’t have been more hospitable. Hendrick, the 2004 NYC champion, has time for everyone, young runners, recreational runners, he loves to impart his wisdom. Plus, at age 38, he goes for broke and always thinks he can win. He is an inspiration!

A close second would be Paula Radcliffe. Even though it’s very difficult to watch her as she bobs her head and always looks in pain (since she is), a race is never boring when she is entered.

6.  We think runners are tough (especially women runners!). How do they compare to the basketball players or tennis players you have written about?

TOUGHER! No comparison. Nobody endures as many injuries as women marathoners, namely Deena Kastor and Paula Radcliffe.  And then there’s Grete Waitz.  She is battling cancer with grit and grace.

7.  In an interview you compared running a marathon to writing A Race like No Other. What did you learn about yourself when writing this book?

I learned I could push myself further than I ever thought. I wrote every day for four months straight, with the exception being New Year’s day of 2008. I had a deadline to meet. Since my chapters were each a mile on the course, I tracked my progress as if I were running. And, since all writing is rewriting, I crossed the finish line multiple times!

8.  Who are your favorite writers?

T.C. Boyle, Barbara Kingsolver, Joan Didion

9.  What are you reading these days?

The Women — T.C. Boyle

10.  What is your (life) mantra?

Keep pushing. You can always recover tomorrow.

Extra credit: What is your favorite sport to play? And why does ping-pong come up when your name is mentioned?

I love playing tennis and golf, but the latter is too frustrating for a former high school and collegiate athlete. Since I was a small girl, I have always loved to play ping-pong. The rhythm, the precision, the pace – what a rush!

About Liz (Bio edited from her blog):

“Liz Robbins has been a reporter for the New York Times for the last 10 Years, and a journalist for the last 18 years, since graduating from Cornell with a handy degree in European history. She has interviewed athletes such as LeBron James, Steve Nash, Andre Agassi, Venus and Serena Williams, and Paula Radcliffe, and covered major sporting events from the NBA finals to the United States Open to the Olympics. And, of course, the New York City Marathon. Since receiving critical acclaim for her first book, “A Race Like No Other: 26.2 Miles Through the Streets of New York,” Liz has branched out of the sports department to cover breaking news for The New York Times on the web. She runs in Central Park as much as her tortured knees can endure, and plays virtually every sport, from tennis to golf to ping pong.”

Thank you Liz !!  We can’t wait to read your next book!

Liz has so generously offered to send a signed copy of her wonderful book to the lucky winner of the Facebook giveaway on the “a bold pace” fan page!  Become a fan, make a comment, bring a friend to enter!  (contest ends March 1st)

An excellent start; the 2009 Philadelphia Marathon swag is the best ever. A smart Kick Asphalt technical shirt, runners’ gloves and a (zippered) mesh bag.

Sunday, 11/22, 5:10 am. It’s finally time…Kim and Kerry are running their first marathon. The mood in the car is optimistic and light.

The day is made for marathon running, cool, bright and cheery. We choose the facilities at the Starbucks on Callowhill and 20th. The line of ardent runners recount tales of race bibs purchased on Craig’s List and compare favorite marathons (it’s NY by a mile.)  We women get a bad rap when it comes to time in the loo…those Starbucks men sure took their time!

The new wave start is touted. With roughly 7,500 marathoners, 7,200 half marathoners and 1,575 8K runners, the streets are mobbed for the first mile or 2.

Kim and Kerry (the K’s) are low key, savoring the architecture (the Beaux-Arts Memorial Hall in Fairmont Park is a midpoint standout), the sparkly rivers and the quirky marathoners along the way. Kim discovers her mantra at mile 4…..never say never. The ever vivacious Kerry chats with fellow runners, collecting their stories.

I’ve run Philadelphia twice. This time, I am doing the half.  I’ve read of runners who purchased a half marathon bib and then proceeded to run the full marathon. Those are not my people. The leisurely half is great fun. And so is the finish line.  But the day is all about the marathon; we half-runners are merely poseurs. I forgo my Mylar blanket, medal and banana.

I cheer the runners at Lloyd Hall (after mile 25.) This year, runner’s first names are boldly printed on their bibs. We yell out their names as runners grit their teeth, limp, cry or (happily) accept candy from the crowd. A group of young women are singing the Black Eyed Peas’ latest. The entire song. At mile 25.5. I don’t like them one bit. A bystander is obsessively playing the Rocky theme—a runner requests Sinatra. A middle aged man, with his entourage, is running his 100^th Marathon. The crowd goes wild. A young couple run by, the man’s shirt says, “I love my marathoner”, pointing to the woman.

LDF’s, Ann and Jill, jump in at mile 23, with stories to tell, just what the K’s are craving.

Kim and Kerry run past. They seem calm, classy and jubilant. They did it.

Monday finds the K’s with the inevitable sore and unsightly toes and that painful stair walking.  Talk quickly turns to their chances of getting into the New York Marathon next fall. The glorious conversation continues….

The last time I ran a marathon, I took the Boltbus. This time, I am flying to Chicago…with some trepidation. The week before the race finds me frantically combing through my running log and training plans with that sinking feeling. It finally dawns on me that, thanks to my so called life (and sore knee), I have completed fewer long runs and less total mileage than ever before. Some of my long runs were dire.  I worry, is a dark running cloud following me?

Chicago is my kind of town. A stroll through Millennium Park reveals flowered landscapes reminiscent of London’s Green Park, Grant Park (the setting of Obama’s election night speech) and the Jay Pritzker pavilion, an outdoor concert site designed by Frank Gehry. Its steel ribbons adorn the cityscape (once referred to as the City of the Big Shoulders.) We pass the Cloud Gate, an elliptical sculpture reflecting the skyline and the Crown Fountain, glass block towers that project video images of Chicagoans amidst jets of water. The Art Institute of Chicago’s Modern building is airy, light filled and uncrowded. We contemplate the mastery of a Magritte sunset. While passing the Gold Coast (Oprahland), overlooking Lake Michigan, we glimpse a beach with palm trees!  We recall The Spirit of the Marathon documentary, wondering, “is this where they trained?”

The food is terrific. At Mercat a La Planxa, we savor Barcelona tapas and pineapple mojitos. The flavors are bold and vivid.  Andrea discovers a night-before-the- race gem, Fianco-a neighborhood trattoria; new wave, yet hearty Italian fare. Jane and Ralph, married, veteran marathoners (and doctors!) bring a lighthearted air to dinner, reminding us to enjoy the ride.

We taunt the marathon gods by running in customary but new sneakers (Andrea), a brand new Chicago Marathon shirt (Jean) and a 2007 Vermont Marathon shirt (my own brand of lunacy.)

The race is huge, yet every detail is impeccably orchestrated (lightening quick check in at the expo, plentiful porta potties, Gatorade and water.) Waiting for the race, it is so very cold. By mid race, the temperature reaches the 50’s and it is sunny.

People are disconcertingly nice. They say “excuse me, sorry” over and over again during the inevitable jostling. The enormity of the race is sensed while turning some corners where we slow runners come to an almost complete stop. Tee shirts of note: “I want to beat Oprah’s time” and (two) “Unemployed financial analyst looking for work.”

I have decided to run with a pace group. What the heck? I even try out the pace tattoo provided at the expo. The pace group compels an initial slow down. Although I inevitably lose the group and add some time at the end, I don’t experience that soul killing, bone-weary tiredness of 20 plus miles. The pace tattoo is an agreeable distraction, visible evidence of the miles traversed.

We pass majestic skyscrapers, quirky architecture, hip neighborhoods, the Chicago River and the zoo. There are mariachi bands and in Boystown, the Righteously Outrageous Twirling Corp and men in drag serenade us.

Running through the silvered city, my dark cloud of running anxiety dissipates! Jean and Andrea achieve PR’s. Walking back to the hotel, Midwesterners heartily congratulate us on the running. All evening, runners in street clothes wear their medals without east coast irony. We are a long, happy way from home.

Running in Philadelphia is great fun; eating there, even better. A perennial favorite, The Philadelphia Distance Run, took place on Sunday, 9/20. Next year, the race will be “rebranded” as the ING Rock ‘n’ Roll Philadelphia Half Marathon. Even road races are beginning to resemble suburban malls…… 

The Race Expo takes place at the Philadelphia Convention Center. We listen to a panel of marathon winners (they muse over the concept of luck in racing). I have my picture taken with Catherine (the Great) Ndereba, currently the 7 time winner of the Distance race, an Olympic medalist! The lovely Ms. Ndereba radiates serenity and benevolence.

Kismet! Monica wins a pair of Sir Isaac Newton sneakers (the next, big thing in running). Newton’s are engineered to mimic the advantages of barefoot running. We try the sneakers on and my feet are immediately transformed. I rue my 2 newly purchased pairs of Asics.  We find KT Tape in the goodie bag. I try it out and experience immediate relief from a nagging sore knee. Crazy!

We have lunch across the street at the Reading Terminal Market. The market is the heart and soul of Philadelphia; gritty, urbane and comfy with a European flair. So many choices: Amish roast chicken and soft pretzels, Thai salmon, Italian Market cheeses, remarkable breads and hearty turkey sandwiches. We enjoy our Pakistani kabobs while catching up on the world, big and small.

On Sunday morning, Kerry, Kim, Ann and Jill are poised to run their first half marathon. They are at once apprehensive, bubbly, confident and ready. Last minute decisions abound: we mull over iPods, sore knees (I decide to wear my magic tape and feel good throughout the race-and afterwards!) and throw-away clothes.

What is it with the pre-race porta-potty scene? We arrive at the start 45 minutes early and line up. The line is eternal.  The wheelchair racers start off. We inch forward.  Kerry remains optimistic; line anxiety takes our mind off of pre-race panic. Goal finally accomplished, we enter our corral with seconds to spare.

The day is glorious autumn; sunny with a crystal clear sky. The breeze is crisp and cool. We run past the regal Museum of Art on the Benjamin Franklin parkway, passing fountains, statues and the Rodin Museum. We run into Center City via City Hall (the world’s tallest masonry building) and Independence Park. Finally, we complete an 8 mile loop around the Schuylkill River.  The River is sparkly, the color a vibrant blue-green. A welcome change; the race offers Cytomax, less sickly sweet that Gatorade. 

Kerry and friends run a terrific race. They decide to document the moment. Kerry has her picture taken with the winner, the extraordinary Ryan Hall. The group induces amiable strangers to take our picture.

A celebration is in order. We stroll (in running clothes!) to the chic brasserie, Parc, in the elegant Rittenhouse Square.  The restaurant is breezy and sun filled. The space conjures up Paris. Mercifully (and purposefully?), we are seated outside among fellow Distance runners. The cocktails are exceptional; Kerry and I enjoy one (actually 2!) with lemon and vodka. The food is straightforward, the ingredients impeccable, the company incisive and buoyant.

Time to plan another lunch, I mean run, in Philadelphia!

Could it be the coffee shops? The bike riding lifestyle? Or the brick roads of the city center? No one was running on the streets of Amsterdam. My 3 guide books say nothing on the subject of running. Our smashing hotel staff suggest running in Vondelpark, the largest park in Amsterdam.

I take an easy-to-manage tram to Vondlepark. At 8:30 am, the park is serene and verdant. Runners are doing their thing! A 4K asphalt bike route and a dirt path ring the park (with straightforward signs to guide me.) While running, I spot a tree full of green parrots! The grand Filmmuseum of Amsterdam (with requisite café) is located mid-park. Stately homes on tiny canals line the perimeter. Some vintage Clash and New Order (thanks John!…see Best Running Music) feels right as I circle the park a few times.  Want to find this run? Check it out at www.stepwhere.com.   This great site lets you zoom in and follow the path step by step.

The Dutch, the tallest people on earth, are invariably fit and great looking. We see few cars in the city and nonstop bikes. People of all ages and manners of dress ride them. The bikes are often decorated with Mexican oilcloth bike bags. The fashion: think Eileen Fisher goes Scandinavian hippie princess.  Men and women wear messenger bags of smart design; a jewelry of sorts.

The bike riders are patient with Karen (quirky art teacher and treasured old friend) and I as we inadvertently step into the bike lane (watch out!!) People seem relaxed, open and friendly. In a country where tolerance prevails and people are directly connected to their environment, who needs to run and run? Very often, we spot men with their children. Is there a saner work/family dynamic here?

Coffee shops are not the totality of Amsterdam. In fact, the Dutch smoke less marijuana per capita then Americans. Coffee shops have a diverse vibe and clientele. Many are quite civilized and economical. Others are filled with exuberant kids with unfortunate tee shirts.

When it comes to getting around, Amsterdam is the great leveler. The city is not built on a grid. The canals ring the city in a mind boggling manner. On any given corner, people from all walks of life can be found scowling at their maps. The coffee shops cannot be helping this effort!

We visit the Van Gogh Museum. Only 1 wing of the Rijksmuseum is currently open due to renovation. We take in the spectacular Rembrandts, still lives and Vermeers. The fantastic modern art Stedelijk Museum is also currently closed for renovation. Some of its art can be found in the Van Gogh Museum.

We thoroughly enjoyed:

-The Museum of Bags and Purses/The Tassenmuseum–bags from the 1500’s to modern times. Words fail to describe these treasures!

-We caught Public Enemy at the opulent art deco Tuschinski Theatre.

-The Hermitage/Amsterdam, opened in 6/09, is an airy space filled with riches from the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg. I was especially taken by the czarina dresses;  sumptuous velvets with mirrors and to-die-for embroidery.

-The Amsterdam Public Library, the largest public library in Europe, was built in 2007 by Joe Coenen. This place defines visionary architecture.

-The markets- Albert Cuypmarkt, Westerstraat

-The FOAM contemporary photography museum

We relished the Netherland’s hearty bread, butter, cheeses and apple cake. Terrific Asian (Thai, Indonesian, Surinamese and Chinese) restaurants can be found everywhere. Most restaurants and stores do not accept credit cards.

Our magnificent hotel, the Grand Hotel Amrath, served for a decade as a major shipping office. It is replete with high ceilings, art nouveau décor, charming canal views, a fabulous pool and a FREE minibar every night! The staff is charming, friendly and quite literate (our young porter was fluent in 5 languages.) We purchased our rooms for $130.00 dollars per night via Hotwire. A recent NY Times column, Save or Splurge, Amsterdam on a $1000 Dollars a Day, recommended the Amrath! Could this trip get any better?

I’m becoming restless. Time to break up the drudgery of distance training by running somewhere new. I choose the NY Marathon Long Training Run #1 in Central Park. The run costs $15.00 if entered ahead of time and a little more to pay on the spot. The run is billed as a “noncompetitive” 6-20 miler.

Saturday night, Chelsea, NY:  Paul, consummate theatre enthusiast and fun time addict, absolutely must attend the last performance of Twelfth Night, a Shakespeare in the Park production starring Audra McDonald, Anne Hathaway and Julie White. Goddesses all. The play has earned stellar reviews and the requisite buzz. The tickets are free (that is, if you can line up early enough).

Paul stays up late and sleeps in, while my definition of a late run, alas, is 6 am. But tonight is not like any other night. After drenching thunderstorms pass, Paul leaves his Chelsea apartment at 3 am and bikes to Central Park West, where the ticket line begins. Paul encounters a mighty line in front of him formed in defiance of the storm. I leave 3 hours later to make my way to the run’s starting point, at the Park on 5^th Avenue and 102 Street.            

The run’s start is low-key and upbeat. I take in the pre-run chatter. Runners are wowed by a Polar triathlon watch (it records time and distance on the run and in the water.) We talk of our next marathon: NY and Chicago are mentioned most often. Runners bitterly compare notes about the perpetual conflict between Central Park bikers vs. runners. (Heidi: how do triathletes’ traverse this divide?)

The run consists of 4 loops; one 6 mile loop, two 5 milers and the last loop of 4 miles. Water is provided throughout the run. At mile 6, 11, 16 and 20, Gatorade and pretzels are provided. GU is located at miles 11, 16 and 20 (does anyone actually down a GU at the end of a run?)

The run starts about 20 minutes late. The course is hilly throughout (see map). Each mile is marked. The sun is blazing hot. Then, we run into luxurious, jade colored shade. The sites that keep my mind off the miles: the Lennon/Ono Dakota, the stately Met, the newly spiffed up Guggenheim, the jewel-like Reservoir and the Fred Lebow statue (checking his watch.) Lebow was a beloved runner who helped organize the first New York City Marathon along with many other notable races.

I pass Paul and the Shakespeare line three times. Line holders eat. They doze. They read the Times and play Charades.  Parents are reading the Shakespeare plays to their teenagers (Ann Hathaway fans.)  Everyone is fretting about their chance to get a ticket. Anxiety is a faithful friend.

The staff informs Paul that his place in line is directly across from the Rock of Hope. Meaning that he has a 50% chance of scoring 2 tickets.  50%!?!  Paul has bonded with his line-mates as they share tales of ticket-waiting hell. To pass the time, they track my progress throughout the loops.

Unlike most races, the pace groups are well-defined. The event organizers purposefully create time and space between each pace group. It’s a good thing because there are no pace balloons or identifying markers. When I inevitably slow, it’s as if a herd of caribou are behind me.

Most of us end our run after the third loop, at mile 16. Unlike a race with a definite finish, this run allows my running devil to go wild; “stop now, it’s hot and hilly. Quit while you can; with a modicum of dignity!”

I cool down with a 2 mile walk to the Shakespeare line and spend some time with the line dwellers. At 1:30 pm Paul and his compatriots are awarded with tickets. Everything is cool!

Twelfth Night is all that Paul hoped for, a splendid production and a luminous summer evening in the Park.  A perfect way to spend the day on the Twelfth.

Beach at Dennis, MA. Courtesy of Boston.com

Dennis, Massachusetts, a sylvan mid-Cape town, has less name recognition than its glitzy cousins, Provincetown and Hyannis. Its charms are singular; exquisite light and color, understated, yet elegant New England architecture (think old shingles reminiscent of grey cashmere) and a small town vibe.

Dennis boasts the Cape Playhouse, the oldest professional summer theater in the US.  Gregory Peck, Humphrey Bogart, Ginger Roger, Lana Turner, Helen Hayes and Jane Fonda made their professional stage debuts there. NY theatre professionals continue to appear, proving this local gem to be a performance space of quality, particularly on a sultry summer evening following today’s catch and a chilled Riesling. An 8/08/09 NY Times article, Where Broadway Takes its Vacation, recounts the frantic theatrical preparations of the Playhouse. They liken the process to a bank foreclosure: There is always potential for fiasco —let’s hope!

The Cape Cod Museum of Art and Cape Cinema are located on the same lovely grounds. The cinema presents a weekly indie or foreign movie, as well as mainstream fare. Currently, the charming and instructive documentary Every Little Step is playing. The theatre is replete with linen seat covers and Rockwell Kent murals.

While summertime on the Cape is a classic pleasure, I particularly love Dennis in the fall. The landscape is gilded with the colors of cranberries, mustard seed, asters and Russian sage. The weather defines crisp.

I’ve experienced some perfect running moments there.  Map My Run lists several pages of Dennis runs, here’s mine:

Begins at the Dennis Village Green on 6A. Heading east, towards Brewster, signs point to the oddly named Cold Storage and Corporation Beaches (all on the Cape Cod Bay), as well as the Howes Street Beach, Scargo Lake and the Dennis Yacht club. After encountering a sign, I run through each distinctive neighborhood until I reach the destination. I return briefly to 6A, where I will encounter the next sign. Because I am so directionally challenged, these runs tend to stretch out for hours. They culminate in a (private) outdoor shower.

Could there be anything more welcome?

The perfect Dennis jaunt; the dream rental house (each home we’ve visited offers an outdoor shower), forays to Bucky’s Underground for lattes and biscotti, hours of beach reading with occasional warm water swims (when the tide cooperates!) and long, leisurely dinners at home. We buy produce at the organic vegetable store on 6A in Dennis. There is an excellent Stop and Shop and a yuppified food emporium, Ring Brothers, located at the shopping centers on Route 134 (near Route 6.) If it happens to be a rainy day, check out the unbeatable Marshalls.

Bring lots of books, magazines, sunscreen and those running shoes…

courtesy of Alexander Anderson photography

Spring in Washington DC is magical.  Cherry blossoms, magnolias, and rows  of tulips sit at attention among beautifully manicured lawns.  I spent a fabulous weekend there for Easter with family and friends (visited the must see Newseum and spent my injured early mornings hours engrossed in The Help by Kathryn Stockett-a great read).  And although I was unable to run this time, I have fond memories of the trek we made last year to run the National Marathon.  A few days before the race I ventured out from my hotel room alone in the early am to try and find a few miles to get the blood moving.  We were staying at the Westin Grand on M street and the hotel provided a running map card sponsored by Runners World (some Westin locations actually provide a running concierge who takes you on the run! -see RunWESTIN for locations).

I stayed true to the map as it took me down M street to the waterfront near Georgetown and found myself on the path along the Potomac river.  I stayed on the path past the Kennedy Center until I could see the Smithsonian mall ahead.  Surprisingly,  I was almost alone as I began my loop around the mall.  It was almost spiritual being among these great monuments with only a few people in shouting distance.  I have been there so many times with thousands of other tourists.

It was the perfect pre-marathon moment and one that stays with me.   I re-ran a shorter version of the route the next day and had a great marathon a few days later, but that was the run I remember most. (@5 miles round trip)

courtesy of www.fairmountpark.org

When it’s time for a long run, my long distance friends and I head out to Philadelphia: Kelly Drive and the Wissahickon Park. We start out at Lloyd Hall on Kelly Drive. At 6:20 am, there is usually free parking nearby. Lloyd Hall is located on the east side of the Schuylkill River, next to stately Victorian boathouses. We pass grand sculptures (Saint-Gaudens and Frederick Remington are represented), blooming cherry trees in the spring and old stone bridges. Regattas, races and triathlons are a welcome distraction.

After Kelly Drive ends, about 4 ½ miles later, we cross Ridge Avenue into the verdant Wissahickon Valley Park, part of Fairmont Park (one of the largest city parks in the world, designed by Frederick Law Olmsted. Olmsted also created Central Park, NY and the Emerald Necklace parks of Boston). The Wissahickon Creek runs through the park’s entire 7 miles length. At the fork in the park, bear left onto the Forbidden Drive.

The Forbidden Drive is fairly quiet and easy on the feet. The trees provide the respite of deep shade against those muggy Philadelphia mornings. The light is quite lovely.  Often, we see fly fisherman toiling away in the creek.

Midway through the park is the Valley Green Inn. We stop here for a drink and GU. There is an excellent buzz; running clubs and spirited friends begin and end their runs at the Inn. Depending on the length of the run, we continue on to a covered bridge or to the stables. We bide away the miles debating if the park ends at the road or at the stables down yonder. I don’t think we truly want to know.

We run back out the same way that we came in. Distance running brings out my latent OCD tendencies. I inevitably stop at the same place each time for a drink. I tell myself to avoid the mile markers on Kelly Drive and then end up reading each and every one of them. The numbers are rarely comforting.

On Kelly Drive, near the rowing grandstands, is a bronze sculpture, The Rower, in honor of triple Olympic gold medal winner John B Kelly, Sr, father of John B Kelly Jr, a 4 time Olympian oarsman and Philadelphia councilman (hence Kelly Drive) as well as Grace Kelly, Oscar winning actress and princess of Monaco.

Once we pass the Playing Angels statues, another Saturday in the park with friends has just about come to an end.,

As we flew to Rome on Christmas night, my 12 year old daughter woke up from the Alitalia stupor to say, “Mom, when we get to Rome, let’s do some serious eating.” Perhaps a modicum of running may be in order.
We arrive on our ancient street at 9:00 am and immediately see a group of runners in sleek, Boston Marathon-blue jackets, running on the cobblestones. The men are happily conversing together up front, while the women, also chatting, are running behind them. Throughout the trip, I often came upon this group, running on the cobblestones, each time on a rainy morning.
Rome at Christmastime evokes breathtaking sites, colors and design. The fashion is understated, classic and waistlines are back in style; winter coats are cinched and belted. Roman dogs are dressed impeccably (though they don’t seem to have read the understated memo.)
In our family, lunch, vino and lattes are equal partners to the sites. We enjoyed incredible, one euro lattes (don’t kid yourself: I observed not a hint of low fat milk in Rome), long, delicious, moderately priced lunches, red wine to die for and vividly flavored gelato.
During Christmastime, Rome abounds with lovely holiday decorations and crèches (ranging from classic and gorgeous to tacky and time bending.) The weather was warmer than Philadelphia and, perhaps, the woeful economy caused very few American tourists to visit.
The bitter memory of plantar fasciitis ruled out running on the cobblestones, so I ventured up and down the Tiber. I would begin at Ponte Umberto (the lovely bridge near the Piazza Navona) and ran north to the Villa Borghese area where a bike path runs along the west bank of the River, crossing back on the Ponte Flamino. Alternately, I would run towards Trastevere, past the Isola Tiberina, crossing over at the Ponte Palatino. I would usually begin running at 9:30 am. The traffic was brisk and I tended to run on the Trastevere/Vatican side to avoid the fumes. I ran on the sidewalks and saw many runners out there as well. I felt safe, comfortable and completely engaged with Rome.
The perfect (running) moment: the sun was glinting on the Bernini designed angel statues of the Ponte Sant’Angelo (a bridge built by Hadrian  in 134), my ipod is playing The Skin on my Yellow Country Teeth (Clap Your Hands Say Yeah) and I just have to wonder—is this what it takes for me to have a fabulous workout?
Some recommendations:
Our favorite guide book was written by (the far too earnest) Rick Steves (Rome 2009). It is well organized, clearly written, provides good tips and terrific restaurant suggestions.
For those of us watching our euros, the following moderately priced restaurant choices serve classic Roman food—to Romans!!
Osteria Ponte Sisto/Trastevere
Osteria Checco er Carettiere/Trastevere
Trattoria da Lucia/Trastevere (are you sensing a theme here?)
Ristorante Enoteca Corsi/near the Pantheon
Gelateria Caffe Pasticceria Giolitti for gelato (the hoards do get it right sometimes!)/near the Pantheon
Tazza d’Oro(one euro latte/cappuccino perfection-visit often!! And such attractive baristas!)/near the Pantheon

While facing the hoards at the Vatican museum, on the way to visit the Sistine Chapel, spend some time in the Raphael Room marveling at the School of Athens painting featuring the great thinkers, mathematicians, scientists and philosophers of the age.