Month: July 2022

In August of 2021, me and a friend traveled to Paris to go for a run. Follow along with this map of our run. We ran 75 km over a day-and-a-half. Here’s how we did it:

“I just need to get away and go for a long run,” Seth confessed on the WhatsApp call. The both of us enjoy running long distances and, frankly, needed it. My life as a paramedic comes with baggage. Night after night I stressfully work with patients in need. It’s fulfilling and satisfying work. But the sleepless nights, high-stress situations, and high-acuity medical and trauma cases weigh on me—as they do all other paramedics, EMTs, firefighters, and police officers.

I can’t really speak to Seth’s life. But life as an expat in the north of Spain comes with its own difficulties. Life, for both of us, had gotten to a boiling point. And we both knew it.

“I have some time later this month,” I said, my mind racing. It was true. I had a couple of days off coming up in August (back in ’21). But it was only a couple of days.

“Let’s meet someplace”

“Let’s meet in Paris. We’ll run around the city!”

This was both good news and bad news. You see, we both wanted to run and we both wanted to run around Paris. That’s the good news. The bad news is that we’ve been arguing about the French Revolution for the past three years. Don’t ask me why; I can’t remember. All I know is that every time we get together, Seth’s opinion regarding the French crops up and I have to correct him. He says the same thing about me. I don’t even know what the argument is about. But when he and I start talking about the late 1700’s, it gets heated.

We would just have to risk it.

In less than a day, we made the decision to fly to Paris, France from our respective homes in Spain and Minnesota.

The plan was simple.

We would pack light.

Very light.

I was scheduled to land in the mid-morning and Seth would get in a few hours later. The only goal was to run as much as we could in a couple of days.

Back in Minnesota I stared down at my Nathan Hydration pack wondering if it would do the trick. The problem with flying to another country just to run was that I had to run with all of my luggage on my back. That just wouldn’t do. So, I pulled the water bladder out of the bag and packed the following:

• A single pair of running shorts
• One pair of socks
• One tech shirt
• A travel toothbrush and toothpaste
• Anti-chafe cream
• Phone charger
• Plug adapter
• Ultralight rain jacket
• Second hand sci-fi novel (call me a barbarian, but as I read the pages, I would tear them out and throw them away to save the weight)

I wore a long-sleeved running shirt, zip-off pants, and a hat—cell phone and wallet in my pocket. If it’s not on that list, I didn’t bring it. No deodorant. No soap. No second pair of underwear in case of…emergencies. Just a single pair of running gear.

The idea was that we would land in Paris and run around the city, seeing the sites. Later we’d hit a cheap hostel, clean up, and rest. Seth’s bag looked much the same as mine. However, he had a piece of equipment I did not have—sleep. He lives in Spain. The time change was going to kill me. I would try to sleep on the flight over from Minneapolis and he would get a full night of sleep.

Turns out, neither of us slept. Seth fell victim to a major problem that many runners face: the jitters. He tossed and turned and barely slept a wink. His flight left in the morning, and mine the night before. As it was, we both landed in Paris feeling jet lagged and worn.

My first goal upon landed was to get out of the airport. While this doesn’t sound too crazy, it was a legitimate concern. I flew with no luggage, just a tiny backpack. I had little cash on me. And my planned stay was two nights. To any border security agent, I was ripe for the plucking.

I stepped to the counter and gave a smile, offering my best, “bonjour.” The agent took my passport and flipped through the pages. I have a lot of short stays stamped on those sheets. He gazed up at me with squinty eyes. I then had to try and explain that I was literally there in Paris to run around the city. It was going poorly until I finally landed on the word “tour” and he stamped my passport, much to my relief.

Seth wouldn’t arrive for a few hours. And he would be arriving elsewhere. My flight landed at Charles Du Galle, that’s where most international (or at least most extra-European) flights land. So I grabbed the free bus to city center and found the hostel. Way too early to check in, but no matter. I found a bite to eat and started the journey to Orly Airport, the smaller international airport a few miles south of where I was.

I felt like I was cheating a little bit, being there before Seth. Actually, I’d been to Paris before, so it hardly mattered. But I felt like I was getting a head start on the exam.

anthony forrest

Follow along each week for the rest of our run along the Seine River in Paris.