The weather's gotten so much better since I first arrived here. And by better, I mean, colder. I can finally sleep at night without waking up in a pool of sweat and not shudder at the thought of wearing underwear after I shower-- because that would mean another layer of heat that my body certainly does not need. So in celebration of this fine, gloomy, cloudy weather, I've not missed the opportunity to go out running. You'd be surprised (or not, depends on how well you know me) to hear that in all the times I've come to live in Paris, that this was the first time I've packed my jogging shoes. I've always either been too afraid or too skeptical to. Skeptical me says: "Oh come on Tiffany. You're in Paris. Are you really going to go jogging? Aren't you going to be too busy shoving food down your face to even think about breaking a sweat?" and Afraid me says: "Where will I run, anyway? On the street? In front of the French people? In my... *gasp* SHORTS?" Yet alas, I scrounged up the courage to unabashedly pack my trusty Dr. Scholls running shoes and raggedy old running clothes and yes -- I've been running pretty frequently. In Paris, "le jogging" is considered a pansy American import. Yet the farther you go to the outliers of the city, the more Parisians you see in their matching jogging gear and sweatbands. I actually love running here. Not only does it give me a sense of routine and energy, it's a great way to explore the city. Granted, I don't venture too far away from my résidence, but I've discovered some pretty neat gems that I probably wouldn't have -- the parc de Réuilly, for example, a lavender garden (from which, of course, I stole from), a marché bio, and les bois de Vincennes. It's a good way to shake off a hard day of work (and of eating from work), and my absolute favorite time of day is early morning -- when the city is asleep and still -- nothing but the sound of plastic bags flying in the wind and my feet stepping into a giant pile of dog sh*t.
haha.
No, just kidding.
But I'm sure it's happened.
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