All In A Day's Run

  

     Last week I went out for a run, not really knowing where I was headed.  I just kept taking a turn here and a turn there, knowing that as long as I had the Duomo in sight I was not really lost.  I ended up crossing over the Arno and decided to take an uphill winding road.  This turned out be be both a bad and a good decision.  Bad, because I thought I was going to die from the challenge of the hill.  Good, because of what I stumbled upon.  Call me crazy, but today I took this route again, this time armed with my camera.  

     As I ran today I thought of my friend Jackie who lives in Canada.  She is so dedicated to running that she has been bravely putting on her snowsuit and heading out into the -20 degree temperatures.  I cannot imagine being that dedicated.  I am more of a "princess" runner.  For me to head out for a run there has to be no snow, and it has to be at least in the plus temperatures.  My friend Joanne will read this and say, "Princess is right", like that is a bad thing.  Some women just aren't made for roughing it.  I am one of them.  Although every once in a while I like to shock my friends and prove that in fact I can "rough it", I just don't understand why anyone actually likes to.  

     I took my camera today because when I realized what I stumbled upon on my run I immediately thought that I have to share this experience.  One of the reasons why I love Florence is when you least expect it something wonderful happens in your day.  I share with you how a sweaty, and thinking I am going to have a heart attack, run turned out to be my "something wonderful" in the day.  I won't need many words to describe my experience for you.  Sometimes pictures say far more then what the written word can say. 

The beginning of the uphill run.

  

     While I initially thought it was beautiful running amongst villas and olive trees, it soon turned out to be the winding road from hell.  

     As a church appeared in the distance I said to myself, "Dear God please let the end be near.  Well, not the "big" end......just the top of this bloody hill".  When you are amongst the great churches of the world I am thinking that you better be careful what you pray for.  It is probably best to be specific, just in case one has a direct line.    

     As I reached the top an elderly man walking his dog took one look at me, started clapping and said, "Bravo bella".  I can only imagine the look on my face and I don't think I was looking too "bella".  The poor man must have thought this crazy woman looks like she is going to keel over; I better give her a little encouragement.  Just as I was catching my breathe I saw stairs.....do I take them.....do I not take them.  I could not resist my "Rocky" moment, so up the stairs I went.  

     Then, to the right, I saw there was more there.  I was not sure what.  I walked through what I later learned was an Olivetan monastery.  Then I walked up this rocky path and came across a memorial cemetery for Italian Red Cross workers who died serving during WWI and WWII.  Under each cyprus tree is a marker remembering a brave individual who risked their life to save others.  I thought how fitting it is that they are buried overlooking the city that they sacrificed so much for.   

   

     As I looked up I noticed what appeared to be the entrance to the grounds of the church that I saw running up that winding road.  There was no one around except for me.  I was able to find a security guard and asked if I was allowed to walk through this way.  She welcomed me and told me that it was the entrance to the church and the cemetery.  I immediately envisioned a cemetery like I am use to seeing in Canada.  I had no idea what I was in store for.  This cemetery is like nothing that I have seen before.  It somehow seems inappropriate to say, but as I looked at what was before me I was in awe.  There is just no other word for it.  The beauty, the history and the stories that I imagined about the people behind each memorial.  I quietly wandered for over an hour repeatedly thinking that when I set out on my run I had no idea that I would find this historical treasure.  

    

This is the burial site of a young couple in their twenties.  They passed away during WWII, one year apart.
Their families must have truly appreciated their love for one another.

     As I left the cemetery feeling solemn, but enriched, I wandered around the corner to the basilica San Miniato al Monte (St. Minias on the Mountain).  There I was all by myself, free to wander on my own.  I was struck by the contrast of having just spent time in a place that was marked with so much sadness and loss, and then to turn a corner and look out at a city that is so full of life and warmth.

  

     In the summer when Florence is inundated with tourists I would not have been able to get the pictures that I was able to get today.  I would not have been able to wander quietly in my own thoughts.  I would not have been able to have the luxury of sitting in the basilica on my own......just being still.    

     I left the basilica feeling rested and feeling relaxed.  I left the basilica entrusting my prayers for myself, my children and my loved ones to God.  I left feeling blessed for having taken that winding road.  I left ready for the run back.

     As I made my way back to my apartment I happened to see a friend at a cafe with two of her friends.  Being the warm Florentine's that I have come to experience, they offered to buy me a bottle of water and insisted that I join them for a visit.  As I shared the story of my run, the two gentleman knew exactly what I was talking about as they run that very same route twice a week.  They then went on to describe to me what they say is an equally breathtaking route that will take me out to the hills of tuscany.  I am eager to see what they described to me.  I find myself ALMOST excited for my next run.  Maybe one day Jackie will be able to run with me here in Florence, rather then through the blustery snow in Canada.