This was from a couple of months ago. And although it is not directly connected to landscape architecture, it seems anytime you talk about Rome, it's an easy connection to make. Walking or running through the city always makes for an interesting discussion of pedestrian environments, old versus new and public space. So here it is:
Since many of you have been a part of the lead-up (in the form of visiting chocolate factories, skiing and other distractions from actually preparing), I thought I'd write.
It's also the perfect semi-crippled, convalescing activity this morning. Si il vous interesse….
I came to Rome two days ago to run the Rome marathon. The flight was filled with Swiss marathon runners (the only time I've ever seen the Swiss wearing sneakers in public) and the guy next to me (a tubby Roman-Genevan) asked me what was up. I told him the Rome marathon was the next day and he responded "oh, shit". That was kind of my sentiment at the time, too.
I've always thought that taking a run is a great way to explore a city, but tough in Europe where running through the streets is a tad weird and certainly marks you as "not from here". But the Atlanta marathon ran us through suburbia. And the Sodona, for as gorgeous as the red rock cliffs were, you just kept thinking 'why the hell does this red rock cliff continue to go up?", not "it's so pretty". But the Rome marathon, folks, is pretty darn good. It's flat the entire way, not too many cobblestone streets, was well organized (shocking since, first of all, it's Italy. Second, it's massive - over 16,000 people. Third, the city and streets are a couple thousand years old - no easy feat to plan, I'm sure), and on rare occasions like this, pedestrians trumped cars, letting us wind through some of the most incredible and ancient parts of Rome.
But... I haven't really trained much. I didn't do many long runs in the past months in Switzerland. The snow and skiing made it tough, and I started taking bets at what major ruin I was going to duck behind and drop out. But I made it. I think it was the collective adrenaline. The run starts at the Coliseum for god's sake (or gods' sake) where lots of other weird cultural ceremonies have happened over the years. But outside of where they may have marched Christians in to fight lions, thousands of people stood in throw-away track suits (think baby-one-sie meets hazmat suit), spreading Vaseline on feet, legs and armpits, spraying menthol sprays all over each other, applying plastic tape over their nostrils. Some day they'll talk about marathons on guided tours and people will laugh at the silly cultural events hosted 'back in the day'.
There were people dressed as Romans (original, right? Especially since the Vatican had organized this whole "Jesus getting flagellated by the Romans" scene near St. Peter with actors dressed up as Romans all over the side of the road. Cleopatra (?), Romulus and Remus, a Japanese man with a cape that said "thank you world", lots of sports teams dressed in matching suits including the Autism Running Team, Team Best Western Bargama, blind runners running with their hand resting on the back of a seeing runner ahead of them, and people lining the road the entire way. The spectators came in two camps - the super excited supporters who made me feel like I was a little kid at a talent show and the guy who just went down to the store to get milk for his coffee in his slippers, came out and there was a 30 person thick river of people protected by an overweight and officious police line making sure no one crossed the street.
Katie (from Ethiopia) and Lana (from Croatia) were there to cheer me on. BUT... last night Steph and Petra, 2 other friends from Croatia surprised me (they weren't supposed to be in Rome). If it wasn’t apparent that I'm not Italian, I confirmed it to everyone with the yelp I let out, outside the restaurant when I saw them. Katie took me to the start the morning of the race (she was the talent show mom) and met me at the river when I ran by. All of them came to the finish, which was a show of good faith since I was pretty sure I was going to have to take one of the "withdrawal vans" back to the start. But I finished. By the end I started seeing Robert DeNiro at various corners. I was sure it was him the first time. The second and third made me doubt. And Carol, remember the search this summer for the Trevi Fountain? That wasn't it. We ran by it and in this tiny piazza, water gushed everywhere and people packed the steps and the marathon line. Then (the highlight for me I think), running through Piazza Navona, ran us along the cafe row where posh Sunday-ites were out having coffee watching thousands of salty, sweaty, inappropriately spandex clad people running/hobbling by. We were like TV for them. They turned their chairs to face out (often they are that way anyway - people watching is nothing new) and would point at particularly good costumes or runners who were about to go down. They were like babies for me - they had stony faces for the most part. But if you smiled or waved at them, they lit up and waved enthusiastically back. St. Peter's was having mass and whereas bands lined up along other parts of the route to play fast paced and fun music, the Vatican projected solemn hymns into the plaza. When Carol and I were there this summer, tank tops were forbidden and nuns passed out shawls to offending people. I wonder if the Pope had to take a vacation with all the bare skin, tight clothing and lubed up thighs running by. Running fashion is full of poorly placed stripes, fabric that is either too loose or too tight and can't seem to find a fashionable in-between. Piazza Popolo and surrounding streets were full of shoppers. I watched a pissed shopper who wanted to cross the street fight with a cop at the Spanish steps. The day was cool and sunny. And although the kilometer markers confused me (perhaps this helped to keep me from focusing on them), I just kept going. I finished in 4 hours on the dot (but hope my chip time is less as I didn't cross the starting line right as the clock started with the Ethiopians and Kenyans and other elite runners) which I'm really happy with. We were chorralled into a pen at the end, given silver foil "blankets" and people started dropping like flies. Understandably, really. But it turned into a refugee camp/urban beach of people spread out on foil blankets (they give you foil blankets to keep you warm as you cool down, before you get the bag of clothes you left at the start), gatorade bottles and searching family members trolling for their loved ones.
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