Scenes from My Running Path: Vientiane, Laos

I loved Vientiane for many reasons, but the one that stands out the most is the river walk, or in my case, the river run. 

Before I left for SE Asia, I had this fantasy that I would be up at dawn every morning to run down the sidewalks of every city. Perhaps I was naive or in denial, because I have never been able to wake up before 10:00 am naturally, and I often found myself sleep in during my time in Asia. If I can't even be a morning person, how can I be a morning runner?
Secondly, this fantasy shows my ignorance of most cities in SE Asia. Few cities have paved sidewalks suitable for pedestrians. Temperatures during the day can soar to 40 degree C, and the dust, dirt, smog, and exhaust from cars can be overwhelming. Moped traffic rules the roads, and even if there are sidewalks, mopeds are happy to drive on them when car traffic moves to slowly. 
Going for an afternoon jog is nearly impossible almost everywhere. 
Everywhere but Vientiane. 

Along the Mekong River, the city built a gorgeous riverwalk. As wide as a road for car traffic, this river walk is blocked off for cars and even mopeds, so pedestrians can walk freely without fear. In the evenings, it is packed with local people dancing, playing sport, looking at the sunset, or picnicking, but it is so huge that you almost never have to cross paths with anyone. I saw plenty of other evening runners, many of whom were foreign. Taking advantage of the cool evenings, the beautiful sunsets, and the well-paved car-free path, I ran almost every single day in Vientiane.

The road is about 5 kilometers from start to finish, 10 K for a round trip. The best part of the path is alongside Chao Anouvong Park. After that the road continues to be well-paved but the view is reduced to boarded of construction sites. It ends, anticlimactically, at foot of the Indian Embassy. I don't really recommend running all 5K unless you are really trying to get a work out. If you just want to check out the scene and experience the river walk, you don't need to go further than Don Chan Palace (not actually a palace). 

Despite a few shortcomings at the end, the river walk at Vientiane is my favorite place to run in all of SE Asia. 

Scenes from My Running Path: Ubud, Bali

I came to Bali with the naïve idea that I would running to and from town on a daily basis. That any and every street would be scenic and smooth. That could not have been further from the truth.

Running in Ubud sucks.

First of all, the sidewalks are narrow, usually only wide enough for one person going one direction. If you cross paths with someone, one of you needs to step out into the street to pass. The sidewalks are also impressively ill-maintained. Large potholes and trash abound. I had to stare at my feet the entire time I walked, because as soon as I looked up I was sure to trip on a stone or fall into a hole.

If you think jogging on the roads is any better, think again. Traffic is Bali is the stuff of nightmares. Nearly everyone rides noisy and smoky mopeds, which they fill with home-brewed gasoline kept in Absolute Vodka bottles. Even if you manage to avoid not getting hit by a car on the road, you can’t avoid the noise and filth they emit.

But wait, not all is lost. There is one running path in Ubud which is safe and quiet and serene. It’s not easy to get to, and you have to get up at 5:30 am, but it’s worth it.

The trail starts at our house in a village just outside Ubud. A quick pre-dawn walk through alongside the narrow pathways between quiet rice fields. A circuitous routs leads to the main temple in town, located beneath the bridge. Walk behind the temple, then it’s straight uphill for twenty minutes or so. The route leads up to the top of a hill, alongside a river opposite of the town.

From there you can watch the sunrise over the palm trees before descending into town. Mornings in Ubud are smoky, like walking through a dream. Although I'm awake the dream continues.

You’ll pass by numerous luxury resorts and villas, the kind of places that appear in advertisements for Ubud. Then it is a slow decent downhill. No sidewalks, so you will be walking along the road, but at 6:30 am there are hardly any cars.

The path leads back to our house, but you could easily modify it to go anywhere you want. We did the entire 2-hour walk on our first morning in Ubud, then again in the evening, when we walked in reverse. 

Scenes from My Running Path: Kawamoto, Japan

Part of my acclimation to a town of 3,000 came in the form of running. It seemed an unlikely outlet; I hated exercise and felt uncomfortable being outdoors in general. But in the absence of gourmet food, lattes, places to shop, and diverse people to see, I found that I could not replicate my urban lifestyle as it had been in the U.S.

After the onset of culture shock brought a succession of days spent indoors, scanning yelp reviews for restaurants back home, looking at friends pictures, and wishing I was somewhere else, I decided that enough was enough. I ventured outside.

I took my first walk down the street at 4:30 pm on September 7^th, 2013.

That’s when I realized that I live in one of the most beautiful places on earth and I need to spend everyday in that beauty. I began going out walking everyday after work. There is no need to name the street on which I walk. It’s the only main road in town. I walked along the sidewalk which runs parallel to the river. With time my pace increased, and one day I decided to run. I barely made it to the end of the block (we have very, very long blocks) before I was out of breath. But I kept running. Every day my endurance increased, and so did my distance. My goal was to run to the street light at the end of the road. The intersection needs so name – it’s one of only two street lights in the entire town. Then when I passed the streetlight I set my new goal further out – at the car mechanic opposite the rice paddies.

One day I saw someone cross a pathway through the rice paddies onto another road I had never noticed. I followed them and discovered a pathway o the edge of the river dam. Shielded from the noisy of cars, the road is cupped on one side by steeped hills of rice paddies, and on the other side by a large river. It is in the valley numerous mountains, each turning bluer and blue as they fade into the bottomless sky.

Slowly visions of my new environment supplanted the memories of my old one.

In my evening walks I learned the position of the sun in the sky at every hour. I know its color. A rosewater hue amidst a salty sky.  It has just slipped below the peaks of the blue mountains, its glow, a mere sizzle beneath the crisp fog. Just before sunset, the farmers set their crop waste ablaze, and with backs bent low towards the earth, they painstakingly tend to every plant by hand.

My running path along the edge of a river dam between the mountain slopes of rural Japan is enviable. Nowhere else in the world is there another place like it. It has brought me closer to nature, and closer to myself.

Iwami Airport Marathon

Just a few snapshots from my first 10k, which took place at the Hagi-Iwami Airport in Masuda city. 

There were no morning flights so we ran down the runway while airport staff stood on the sidelines and waved at us. 

After finishing the race a matsuri was waiting for us a the finish line. The best way to celebrate running a 10k is with chicken karaage, yakisoba, and kakigori.