I like to run. Trail runs are preferable, but even city runs can be interesting. I think I find running in London curious for the reasons I find it frustrating: the hard, uneven pavement and the throngs of inconvenient people. Okay, so my knees and shins don’t appreciate the hard, inconsistent pounding that the streets of London afford, but I believe my mind does. There is never a dull moment while navigating the tiny side alleys and menacing main streets as I try to avoid stepping on concrete broken by tree roots or missing pieces of asphalt. And, the necessity to focus on my footsteps means I notice the other, more interesting, and more “London” parts of sidewalks: the silver plaques stamped with “Jubilee Walkway” inform me I’m running along a tourist route of major sites or the manholes touting “Thames Water” remind me that oh, right, I’m in London right now.
But, in case you didn’t realize, London has quite a few people wandering the streets every day. The human factor means I don’t spend all my time with my eyes glued to the ground, but rather they dart between the danger of the city itself and the danger of its human inhabitants (although, occasionally a particularly bold pigeon will capture my attention). Forced to weave through the mob, I like to look at the people I dart between (people watching never fails to entertain). A truly cosmopolitan city, the streets of London reverberate with dozens of foreign languages and witness a diverse range of “street styles.” Some runs, I will barely avoid colliding with a tour group to then find myself uncomfortably close to a smartly dressed businesswoman hurrying to what must be an important meeting. And then there are my fellow London runners who come in yet another range from the casual joggers in old hoodies and beat-up sneakers to the super serious athletes in sleek gear and sporting weighted backpacks (I need to get on that level).
It’s easy to get caught up in the touristy, “cultural” side of London and forget about the joys of getting down and dirty with the city. Don’t get me wrong, I love meandering about Trafalgar Square, snapping shots of Westminster Abbey, gazing at the skyline from the Millennium Bridge; but I also love navigating to Regent’s Park, dodging fast-moving cars and men in suits, fixated on the ground beneath my feet and the hundreds of faces in the crowds, admiring the fashion and surmising about the people.