Running Beijing, Jul 2015

Posted: 18th July 2015 by mockjogger in Running Away
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If this post is anything like my run it will be short and wet. I’d skip to the pictures if I were you.

And so it came to pass that I found myself in China with a seemingly impossible mission to accomplish a gazillion meetings in 4 cities in a week. Shanghai, Namjing, Xuchang, Beijing. My runners didn’t stand a chance. The day’s started early, usually involved a couple of meetings, a flight or high speed train, and a late arrival at a new hotel. I will never do this again, just like I promised myself last time.

There was simply no opportunity to run, until the very last morning in Beijing, when I dragged myself out of bed at 6am determined to record one city run. Of course, the heavens decided to vent themselves at exactly that moment, so I strolled out of out of the hotel door into a monsoon and pressed the “find me quickly” button on the Garmin. “Aye right, with all these buildings?” was the response. I cursed the watch and marched up and down trying to embarrass it into action. It finally deigned to synch and off I went like a Chinese bullet.
















As the saying goes, if you want to run in a city, find a river. Most of the roads were making good impressions of rivers, but luckily I found a real one after a mile. People were swimming! Well, two of them. At 6.30. I was in awe.

I might as well have been swimming. The path beside the river was totally flooded. I remembered I was going home later and wondered if wet clothes counted as liquids for security purposes. Another half mile and I turned for home.

I squelched through the lobby of the Shangri La hotel, trying to look inconspicuous, and failed. The time to get to the 22nd floor was measured in millilitres of water on the floor. After taking a hot shower I spent the next 45 minutes trying to make my running kit and Nike Fkyknits less damp by using the hairdryer. Until it expired. I checked out guiltily, and faced the last day of this epic trip.

And that’s the trip done. I’m writing this at 30,000 feet on a huge Airbus 380 en route to home. I feel like a curry.