New Town, Same Spectacle

Am I really that tall, or are they just short?

The ATPF has arrived in Hoi An - a town that feels so different from Saigon yet retains the same sense of wonder at our size.  We are still oh-so-oddly tall and out of place.

John and I compounded our freak factor this morning by venturing out for a run.  Running opportunities have been nearly nonexistent since we left Vermont.  We tried once in Ho Chi Minh and, between the scooter traffic and the air pollution, were quite confident that running was far from a healthy choice.  When I run at home my lungs burn and my heart races from exertion.  In HCMC my lungs burned from inhaling car exhaust, and my heart raced because I feared for my life crossing the street.  We gave up. 

On the beach in Phu Quoc, we were just plain lazy.  We packed no sneakers thinking we'd just run barefoot in the sand.  We did...for about ten feet.  Soft sand and hot temperatures did us in.  Now, however, we are on a delta.  The biggest hill for miles is the slight incline on the bridge going over the river.  There is mild traffic in town, but within five minutes we are running through rice paddies.   Four kilometers in either direction from the town center is the South China Sea and its golden beaches.  There's a riverside path in the shade.  There are dirt paths and alleys to explore.  There are no more excuses.

In theory this should be a good running year.  We just need to adjust to the stares.  Awkwardly tall people draw unwanted attention when they walk down the street.  Donning a pair of running shorts and a tank top and undertaking exercise in a hot climate is like opening the gates to a sideshow at the carnival.  I now have a pretty good idea of how the bearded lady must feel (only no one is paying to gawk at me). As the rubber-necking scooter drivers turned to stare, I just wanted to remind them to focus on the road lest they forget about the traffic death rate here. I sincerely believe that I am destined to cause a traffic accident whether I'm driving a scooter or not.

Early morning runs are essential to avoid the heat, but I'm thinking midnight runs might be a better choice.  Under the cloak of darkness, perhaps we could avoid the stares.  The alternative would be to buy a full-length set of silk pajamas for a running outfit - just so my attire could blend in with the local population.  Unfortunately that would mean a trip to the tailor for some awkwardly tall measurements.  I can only imagine the spectacle there.  Perhaps they could sell tickets in advance and take full advantage of our peculiarity.