Once a Runner, Always a Runner?

Sunday we met a couple whose 17-year-old son had just competed in a track meet here in Kessel-Lo, and had come in 6th in the final of the 5000 meter.  I was curious about what his time was, so I asked.  His father was pleasantly surprised that I was interested and when he told me the time (around 14 minutes), he was pleased at how impressed I was and that I had an understanding of how fast that was.  "You must be a runner," he said, "most people have no idea what those times mean."

You must be a runner.  I'll be honest, it felt good to hear that!  Even though I haven't really felt like "a runner" for some time, I have actually been running here and there, so I guess that does mean I'm a runner.  Right?  What are your thoughts on this?  Is there a certain amount of running you need to be doing to call yourself a runner?

In any case, motivated by this nice conversation, I took myself out for a "real" run on Monday morning.  Yes, I've been doing interval runs on the treadmill for the past few months, and I've done a few run/walks with my husband on Sunday mornings, but it had been a long time since I'd just gone out by myself on one of my old routes for what in my book qualifies as a run.

Just me and my Garmin, the path through the woods and the neighborhood and past the old abbey farm where the horses graze...it felt great.  I was doing ten minutes of running alternating with 2 minutes of walking and I hit 5000 meters at 36 minutes.  Not too shabby, I thought to myself.  I may be slow but I'm still a runner.

Summer Recap: 5 Teenagers (including1 Niece), 3000 Kilometers, 4 Weeks, 7 Countries!

Outside the cathedral in Bourges

So, my niece Maddie came to visit us for nearly a month this summer, and we really wanted to give her a chance to see as much as possible while she was here.

We managed to get her to seven countries while she was here (Belgium, Luxembourg, France, Spain, England, the Netherlands and Germany), the highlight of which was a big road trip to the south of France for ten days.  It was a lot of fun - all five teens (Maddie, my three boys and Charlotte, Florian's girlfriend) were great company and good travellers.  I had been wanting to take my kids to the area for years to see the medieval city of Carcassonne, which I visited when I was a teenager travelling with my French host family.

Cloisters in Narbonne Cathedral

Hiking down to the natural bridge in Minerve

We stayed in a gorgeous gite in Pouzols-Minervois, a small village in the middle of vinyards located about a half hour inland from Narbonne, which was really well located for the Mediterranean coast as well as neat places like Carcassonne and our new favorite spot, Minerve (which inspired our running joke of saying "tu Minerve" while we were driving there) - a very cool ancient Cathare city built on cliffs and with an amazing natural bridge in the ravine below - and much much less touristic than Carcassonne, which really put the kids off.  Most days we went and visited things in the morning and then headed back to the gite late afternoon to spend some time relaxing before making dinner.  And one day we drove the 150 kilometers to Spain, to visit Figueres, which happens to be the birthplace of Salvador Dali, and where they have an incredible museum showcasing his life and work.


We could not get over how busy it was at the Dali museum!  The line to get in stretched right around the building and the place was jam packed.  The crazy architecture and the sheer number of Dali's works of art made the trip more than worth it, however.  It was quite an adventure!

I feel so lucky to have been able to get to know my niece better, spend time with her, my husband, kids and my son's lovely girlfriend, and get back to one of my all time favorite parts of Europe.

Enjoying a relaxing boat ride on the Canal du Midi

Can you tell I'm in my laughing place?

Maddie wrote some very nice blog posts about her European adventures on her own blog (including lots of pictures!):

France Part 1
France Part 2
London
Belgium, the Netherlands and Germany

A special visitor, a special place

My niece, Maddie, is visiting us this month!  It's her first big European trip on her own.

This weekend we took her to the Groot Begijnhof (Beguinage) here in Leuven.  It's a neat place, like a tiny city within a city, founded in the 13th century as a community for unmarried, widowed or temporarily single (when their husbands went on crusades) Catholic women (but not nuns).  They had everything they needed within the walls of the city.  Quite a feminist idea for those times!

These days, the houses have all been renovated by the university and are used for housing for students and visiting professors.

Row, row, row your boat...

For the past several weeks I've been doing the Matt Roberts "I Will Make You Fit Fast" program (which I think I've blogged about before).  It's a 12-week program of workouts by a well-known UK trainer.  I have two of his books and I've always really liked them.

The great thing about the program I'm doing now is the variation in the workouts, which challenges me to do different things and get out of my usual routine.  I'm on week 7 now, and plan to finish the entire 12 weeks by the beginning of September, allowing a couple weeks off for when we're on vacation.

So yesterday rowing was on the plan, a gym machine I hardly ever use.  There are three rowers at the gym, and there was a young guy on the middle one, so I took the one on the left, and an older lady I know was on the one on the right.  I quickly got into a rhythm and was very focused on watching the distance I was doing (I had to do 2200 meters), when the lady called over to me, "He's moving forward!"

I looked up and yes, indeed, our fellow rowing dude's entire machine had moved about a meter forward into the aisle, and was inching further!  I had to stop myself from laughing out loud, it was so funny!  And I wasn't even sure if the guy realized it, as he kept rowing away!  Should I tap him on the shoulder and warn him?  I figured that there could have been no way he hadn't noticed he was moving forward, though, and after a few minutes he stopped, got off his machine and sheepishly pulled it back to its original position.  But the other lady and I both congratulated him - "wow! awesome rowing!" - and so then he smiled and looked kind of proud of himself.  I was glad we made him feel better about it, but I made a mental note to avoid the middle rower in future.

16K "Dropping"

Ingrid and I had been planning to do what we were calling a "dropping" for several weeks. We wanted to challenge ourselves with a 15K walk and so I figured out where we could start, and planned out the route so that it would take us about 15 kilometers to walk back home. And then I asked my oldest son, who recently got his driver's license, if he would drop us off at our starting point. "Sure," he said, "but technically, that's not a dropping." Oh, yeah? "A dropping is when you get dropped somewhere without a clue how to get back or even knowing where you are, not to mention how far you are going to walk and the exact route, Mom!" Hmmm. Well, we still are calling it a dropping, because we got dropped off and we walked back. In my book, that's a dropping. And we were pretty darn proud of oursevlves for completing it: It was a gorgeous sunny day and we had a great time. The route we picked had some really nice paths, a lot of variety and some decent hills. By the time we approached our home stretch, after three and half hours, we were definitely feeling it. Before we parted we stopped the Garmin so we could see how many calories we had burned (830) - and then we both headed home, which was another 400 meters or so (I started a new route on my Garmin on the way home just to be sure). Which means we did 16K - our longest distance to date. I was pooped when I got home and my legs were killing me. But I was very pleased with our accomplishment. The only downside to a dropping (well, our style of dropping) is that the last stretch is a bit too familiar (= boring), being in our own neighborhood, and since we don't finish together, we don't get to share a cold beer at a cafe afterwards...I think our dropping formula is going to need some further tweaking if we decide to do it again in the future. But it was fun to try for a change!

Random Act of Kindness: Anonymous Benefactor?

For the third day this week, we've had a very mysterious thing happen in our street:  someone has been putting a 10 euro bill in our mailboxes.

It started on Tuesday.  My neighbor came to ask me if we had checked our mail yet.  I hadn't and asked her why, and she said she had found a 10 euro bill in hers.  So I checked our mail and lo and behold, there was a 10 euro bill lying on top of the mail!  We were flabbergasted.  My neighbor started asking other people and by the end of the day, we knew of at least 6 other families who had received the money.

Then on Wednesday, it happened again.  There was another 10 euro bill put into the mailboxes along with the free advertising sheets we get on Wednesdays.  A bunch of us stood outside trying to figure out if the whole street had received money, and as it turned out, the only people who hadn't received anything were the people who had a sticker on their mailbox requesting no free advertising be placed in their box.

Yesterday, the press got wind of the whole thing, and they descended on our street.  My neighbor was interveiwed on the radio, the television, and there was a full page article in one of the national newspapers with a picture of a few of our neighbors (luckily I wasn't home when the reporters came - LOL!).  It was kind of crazy.  They even asked me if they could film our mailbox - the reporters wanted to do a reenactment of someone putting the money in - so I said sure.  So in the news report below, at the beginning, it's my mailbox they're filming and my neighbor Kristel who's being interviewed:

There's been a lot of speculation about who might be doing this - someone who recently won 5 million in the Lotto in our neighborhood? Is it because the name of our street means "savings street?" One news outlet is reporting this morning that it's an advertising stunt. Who could it be? It's been so interesting to see how people react to such a strange thing - a lot of people were very suspicious at first and wondered if it was real money. It did feel a bit creepy, but at the same time, I think it's best to give it a positive spin. Last year someone who inherited money from his mother did the same kind of thing in Koksijde, on the Belgian coast - three days in a row, he put 20 euro bills in all the mailboxes of two apartment buildings. Perhpas the person in our street was inspired by him? I have no idea but when I came home from the gym today there was another 10 euro bill in my mailbox. After thinking about it, I decided the best thing to do will be to donate the money to the Cancer League, since we've had so many friends and family affected by cancer over the years. In that way, the good karma will hopefully continue to spread! UPDATE: Well, as it turned out, it was indeed a publicity stunt...they did the same thing in Rue de l'Epargne (savings street) in Liege (French speaking part of Belgium). In the meantime I donated my 30 euros to an event taking place in Leuven today: Levensloop. This is a relay team running event to raise money for cancer and my son has friends who are running it, so I decided this was the perfect cause to support!

Happy Easter!

Wishing you all a happy Easter and a lovely day spent with those near and dear to you.  We are heading out later to my in-laws but I'm just puttering around, waiting for the four men in the house to wake up for brunch.  Fruit salad is already made and the chocolate eggs are on the table!

Ingrid and I met up for a walk yesterday and we were so lucky with the gorgeous weather!  We decided to
start our walk from the Arenberg Castle on the university campus, and from there, head into the paths that go south towards Korbeek-Dijle:


This has been one of our longest distances to date together. We are shooting for the 25 km Loop van Vlaanderen, but next year, not this year, as neither one of us has had the time to build up to that distance yet. Slow and steady wins the race, as the old saying goes, and we kept to our usual slow (conversational) walking pace. And rewarded ourselves with a delicious beer (La Chouffe) at one of the numerous cafes at the end of our route. Zalig!