The weak morning sun glinted off the surface of the steely Seine. My feet pounded the pavement, and I sighed in satisfaction, the biggest decision facing me whether to descend and run at the water’s edge, or stay where the sights were. I loved it all - the arcs of the bridges, the gardens, the architecture.
I also loved the freedom - an escape in the wee hours, no one awake - with just my shoes, the city and me, to bask in the Parisian sights before the tourists. My plan was to run towards the Eiffel tower, cross the river there and return down the opposite bank of the river.
What a rookie I turned out to be. Somehow losing all sense of direction under the precision and symmetry of the Eiffel, it was 15 minutes later when I realised that I hadn't only crossed the river, I had managed to keep running in the same direction, which meant i was looping around into the more industrial part of Paris. No map, no French, no phone and no money, my previously celebrated freedom started to feel a little silly.
The happy ending was I found my way, and the only price was an unintended long run on a day when we also mounted the Eiffel on foot.
But the sense of being able to “just run” was amazing. Even when I was lost. If you’ve got the time, change your route - go down a road you haven’t tried, take in an extra few blocks. Better still, lose the watch, and just run until you’ve had enough. It’s bliss.
“But what about the music?” I hear you ask. You’ve been here before. Well, I’ll spare you “Lost in France” and leave you with Lost Boy by Troye Sivan. Because everyone should get a little lost sometimes. It can be fun.
So go get runnin', won't you hurry?While it's light out, while it's earlyBefore I start to miss any part of thisAnd change my mind, whatever