Running in Firenze

Imagine the ultimate paradox; as your lungs beg for air, your muscles crave relaxation but you cannot stop, your legs refuse to stop. The firm and smooth road quickly turns into a broken down, unstable path composed of stone and dirt. This begins the challenge. The body must work harder. But more importantly, the mind must work harder. There is no visual foreshadowing to bolster your determination to make it to the top. So why exhaust yourself? Why not just take a nice promenade and enjoy the scenery on the way up? This is what separates the runners from the walkers.

The winding paths and uneven stones laugh at the body's inability to maintain equilibrium. Constantly trying to maintain balance, but never interfering with the mind's one, clear goal: reach the top. A heavy dose of adrenaline is pumping through the veins. This feeling is exhilarating, and similar tot he short, warm tingle you feel before a shiver. The sensation fades to a burn; as the leg muscles tire, the stomach begins to cramp up and the body temperature rises. The span of each breath quickly shortens too. Each one becomes choppier, more difficult, and less pleasing than the last. Just before the body reaches its failure the end is in sight. But the last part is steep. You angle forward, putting most of the weight on the front of your feet. Do not stop, you are almost there, just a few more strides of agony.

Finally, at the top, there is no more incline; just a flat sheet of concrete and sidewalk. The David is the finish line. Green, tarnished and triumphant, it signals the body to come to a complete halt. The tension releases and you allow yourself to completely relax. Without thinking you rest your hands on your knees. Seconds pass and slowly the rate of breathing decreases. Now that the body has had time to settle, your mind has energy to focus. It is in this moment that you are rewarded; the ultimate gift for any runner. The head rises and your heart stop entirely. Not a momentary pause, but frozen in a quick jolt. Here, in the middle of Piazzale Michelangelo you are treated to an amazing view. Your hands hold onto the concrete rail, not for fear of falling, but for a reminder of something materialistic and real. In the evening time in February there is a soft and foggy haze on the horizon. The city stretches out across from you and for a moment, you feel like you are in a dream. Or on a cloud, blissfully watching the city from afar. Every church, every monument can be seen. The sky in the background is a fragile mixture of pink, purple and blue; like melted cotton candy. Or a magnificent collage of pastels delicately crafted on a canvas.

To the far left you can see the old city walls. Although recognizable, they are at first difficult to see with the surrounding greenery on each side of it. The brick separates the city from the Tuscan countryside. In a city robbed of plants and other organic elements of nature, the very site of trees is refreshing. The air suddenly feels different flowing into the lungs. Cleaner and crisper, as if the air particles had been individually filtered through the grass, leaves and trees. With February being the "off" season, you can enjoy the panoramic view of Florence with more peace. When the sunset approaches many tourists and vendors begin to disperse.

As you stretch your muscles, the mind becomes blank. Not because you are not thinking, but because it is impossible to craft a sentence that perfectly describes the view in front of you. it is precisely what you see in a postcard, but when the body is already physically excited, the beauty of Piazzale Michelangelo is intensified exponentially. Here, you find serenity and bliss; you fall in love. Looking past the city towards the mountains protecting Firenze you wish you could freeze time. Still and calm, the city already looks like it has been paused. Time loses significance and in that moment, as the body stabilizes and the mind wanders, you feel completely alive.

It is hard to leave this square, to snap yourself out of a euphoric daze. But you are grateful for the downhill slope ahead. Craving that beautiful paradox again, the joyful high mixed with the pain and despair, you begin to run for a second time. There is an enjoyable ease as the legs extend. They are also moving quicker than ever, so fast that you fear the consequences if you try to stop. In your head you are focused, but at the same time free. Any trouble, any stress just disappears. Maybe it drips off of your forehead in tiny beads of sweat; or burns away as the body puts in overtime.

If you are a runner and you are in Florence, for a few days, a year, or permanently, running up to Piazzale Michelangelo is a must. The trails along the Arno River are tempting and flat; but you will out on a spectacular view. Just like my running coach Ewen Scott Love once told me, "The easiest way to get over a mountain is to go around. But if you go around, you miss the amazing view from the top."