Running around the world
In Vietnam I was too scared to go outside and run for the first 6 months of living there. It was so hot and humid and the traffic so unpredictable that I imagined I would be taking my life into my hands every time I stepped out onto the road. However, I find the treadmill so boring that heading out onto the road became necessary for my sanity. The first run I did I asked my husband to escort me on his bike. I had no idea where I was going and felt I needed a bodyguard and a water boy. (I didn’t tell him about the water boy part or he would never have come with me). The first few km’s were fine, it was hot and dusty, but that was to be expected. Our district, An Phu, was fairly quiet in the early morning and as I ran further away from our house towards the Saigon River, the streets were almost empty. About 5kms into my run the bitumen road narrowed and became a dirt track. The empty housing blocks ended and local housing started to line the street. Children appeared in the doorways running across in front of me as mothers chased them with bowls of food. (no eating at the table for little ones in Vietnam). Chickens squawked and strutted along the road, and cats skulked through the mounds of rubbish on the sides of the road. I felt like I had stepped into another world, a completely local village in the middle of the very civilized neighborhood of An Phu. I would never have found it unless I had decided to explore on foot. Up until this point the wonder of my surroundings had kept me energized, but by around 7kms I started to think there was something seriously wrong with me. My legs felt shaky, my breathing was laboured and my head was throbbing. I felt like I was going to be sick and my trusty water boy had run out of water!! I slowed to a walk, then a shuffle, and eventually kicked my husband off the bike and pedaled the rest of the way home. There was of course absolutely nothing wrong with me just the heat, humidity and pollution taking its toll. I persevered with my runs in Vietnam and my body soon adjusted to the climate. I came to love my runs through the local village and watching a way of life that probably hadn’t changed much in the last 50 years.
My husband would often come with me on my runs, which I honestly began to dread, as I never knew what he would find to take home with him. On one particular run, we ran past a man who had a cage filled with snakes on the back of his motorbike. David is animal mad, and immediately stopped to have a look at the reptiles. I slowly jogged on (I’m definitely not as keen on snakes as my husband), and next thing I knew that man on the bike was following us. David had found out that the snakes were heading to a local restaurant to appear on the menu. He was horrified, so had offered the man 500,000 dong for all of them. They were coming home with us!!
Later that afternoon as I was happily showering, I happened to look out of the second storey bathroom window. In the lovely tree that shaded our house a green long-nosed snake was slithering its way up the branches. David had made sure the snakes weren’t poisonous, and then let them free in our yard, much to the children’s delight, and my horror. I just shook my head and chalked it down to another experience I would tell the Grandchildren one day.
What is your favorite run or walk?