I love my routine, so I’m incorporating the greatest hits from my home routine into its Italian counterpart. Today I went for a morning run. My fellow gym-rats at home may be surprised to know that I got off the treadmill and into the glorious fresh air.
My “running” route starts with a hill that is is too steep to even jog. I’ll revisit that after my 6 weeks here, but I think it will always be too steep. At least it’s short and provides a nice view. My favorite photo of Benano is taken from a switchback about mid-way up the hill. I walk up that hill and call it my warm-up.
The reward at the summit is a long stretch of open and gently rolling road. It’s a near-ideal walking, jogging, or running route. In different seasons, I have seen people working the fields, but the sheep are my most consistent companions up there.
I ran to the end of the road and back to Benano, where some of my neighbors were gathered outside. Had I stopped there, I probably would have gone about 2.5 miles. My neighbors, who I assume were waiting for one of the merchants to drive up in a truck with produce, bread, cheese, and/or meat, waved to me. I waved back and signaled “UP!” as I ran by and away from Benano in the other direction. They laughed. Were they laughing with me, knowing I was in for a workout, or at me, because I didn’t look capable of running up that hill? Discuss amongst yourselves.
Mercifully, the worst part of that hill is short, too. Here it is in a photo I just took of it from our dining room window:
My neighbors were still out as I came back in, and I remembered an important Italian word in time to make conversation with them. I started with, “basta.” (enough.)
This morning’s routine certainly didn’t feel very routine.